Chapter Text
“Lose the attitude, Spoiler,” Batman told her. “I don’t appreciate being followed.”
“I’ve been locked out of the Cave for weeks,” she said. “I wasn’t sure how to reach you. I figured if I staked out that beacon, you’d eventually show—”
“Go home,” he said.
“What about my training?” she asked. “You came to me, remember? It’s not like I asked you to tutor me in calc—”
“You don’t have the skills or the talent, Stephanie,” Batman said. “Go home.”
“But—”
He jumped off the ledge and grappled away.
“You came to me,” she finished softly.
No one was around to hear.
She did not cry on that rooftop. And if she did, no one could possibly know, because she kept her mask on the whole time.
A half hour later, she had swung smoothly into rage.
How dare he. How dare he.
She was sixteen goddamn years old. She had been Spoiler for over a year now, coming up on two. She had taken down gangs all by herself, orchestrated her father’s downfall, she had given birth and nearly died in the process, she had known loss and hope and through all of it, Batman had never respected her.
And she was not his goddamn kid.
Nor was she a Robin.
She didn’t answer to him. She had said he could train because what vigilante would pass on that opportunity but that did not give him any sort of authority over her. And if Robin, her boyfriend, hadn’t managed to successfully talk her into quit in all that time, then no way in hell was some Bat furry going to.
Fuck him.
She was going to give him a piece of her mind.
“That’s it?” she muttered. She launched herself down at the Batmobile. “I’m not good enough?”
The Batmobile swerved off her path with an ear-splitting screech. She landed neatly beside it rather than on top of it like she had planned.
Batman rolled down the window. He didn’t bother looking at her. “Go. Home.”
“No,” she said. “Look, I can understand if you changed your mind about trusting the Cluemaster’s kid, but I think I deserve the benefit of the doubt before you show me the door.”
There. That was so reasonable and mature of her. Far more than Batman deserved.
“We’ll see,” he said.
She smiled underneath her mask and climbed into the passenger seat. You always had to take the high road with Batman. Because God knew he left no room for anyone else on the low road, despite all his lofty-sounding morals.
‘You can’t kill that guy, Spoiler.’ ‘You can’t just steal pop, Spoiler.’ ‘We have to save even the villains, Spoiler.’
Whatever.
She played by the rules. Even if she hadn’t understood them at first. But Batman had made it clear that she would have to abide by his standards if she wanted to operate in “his” city.
Nevermind that it was her city too.
She had seen what the alternative was. Huntress. The Gotham vigilante who didn’t abide by Batman’s rules. Seeing her in action had… it had scared Spoiler straight.
She played by the rules, now. She understands why they’re in place. Why they matter.
She has played by all of Batman’s rules.
“Earlier tonight, nine Kobra terrorists were apprehended by various law enforcement authorities—” Batman started.
“Huzzah for the good guys, right?” she grinned.
“—There was a tenth terrorist who eluded capture.”
“Oh,” she said. “Can’t we just use all this Bat-tech to track down the last guy?”
“Computer, go to Vox-Command. Archival index—K. Search and list all files relating to Kobra… K-O-B-R-A… end of word.”
“Okay, I get it. Like searching for a snake in a haystack made of snakes. So how do we find him?”
“You tell me. This is your one and only chance. Find the tenth terrorist and I’ll reconsider training you.”
“And if I don’t…?”
“Failure isn’t an option. There are other sources of information in Gotham. Unsavory, but usually reliable. You’ve got less than two hours.”
Fuck. Fuck him. A spike of fear lanced through her heart.
What the hell was he going to do if she failed?
“You’re wrong, you know,” she said. “I have all the talent and skills this job needs.”
Batman let her out at the entrance to the Iceberg Lounge.
The Batmobile idled while she walked through the roped-off pathway to the door. Heavily-muscled enforcers lined the other side of the ropes, staring at her.
Her own little red carpet walk.
“I’m a minor and I don’t have an invitation,” she told the bouncer at the door.
“Then beat it.”
“You want me to bring my chaperone back around?” she jerked her thumb back at the Batmobile.
“Maybe you should let her in, Rocco,” an equally muscled man said. “The boss don’t want no more trouble tonight.”
“Thanks, boys,” she said. “I won’t be long.”
She stalked up the stairs to the offices above the club proper, purple cape flaring out around her as she went.
“—I’m c-cold, Ozzy,” a woman was saying. Redhead. Tall. In a bathrobe.
“And I’m curious,” Spoiler said from the doorway. “What exactly is the freezing point of silicone?”
“You must be new, little bird,” the Penguin said. “Tell him to so his own research from now on. I support homeland defense as much as the next fellow, but I’m no damn snitch. Pay close attention, because I’m not doing this again tonight. He’s calling himself Kalkin…”
She and Batman busted down the door to their lead’s apartment. The man shouted something in a language Spoiler couldn’t recognize, let alone speak.
“Gun,” Batman warned.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Not a problem!” Spoiler said confidently, easily dodging. More shots were fired off. She punched the goon hard, and he dropped the pistol.
He said more words in that unknown language.
“What’s he saying?” Spoiler asked.
And then Batman spoke to the man in that same language.
“What… What are you wanting from me?” Goon asked.
“I’ll take ‘starts with a K’ for $200, Alex. Kobra, Kalkin, go nuts and close out the category.”
Five minutes to midnight. Five minutes ‘til the bombs go off.
“And it looks like I won’t be turning into a pumpkin come midnight,” Spoiler said, as they closed in on the warehouse. “Back me up on this, okay? I’ll surprise Kalky and smoke him out of his hole.”
She tore the police tape off the door and pried it open.
It was empty.
“Oh, God,” she said. “He’s not here. We’re too late. I blew it. It’s all my fault.”
“Go ahead, Rex,” Batman said.
“Who—Who’s Rex?”
A tinny voice came through from Batman’s comm, loud enough for even her to hear. “We nabbed the Kobra goon right where you said he’d be, Bats.”
“Who are you talking t—”
“—We stopped him a few klicks short of Vegas. Couple minutes to spare, too.”
“Casualties?” Batman asked.
“He was never here,” Spoiler realized.
“Nobody ‘cept for maybe this Kalkin guy if we didn’t show up in time,” the voice over the comm said. “Another hour and he’d be glowing goo. The Feds are moppin’ up right now. As soon as the STAR guys scrub me down, I’m headin’ home to the wife and kid.”
“Affirmative, Rex. Give Sapphire my regards.”
“Someone you trust?” Spoiler asked bitterly.
“One of a few,” Batman said. “His name’s Metamorpho.”
“You were on top of this the entire time…”
“Tell me what you missed.”
“You mean besides the big ‘kick me’ sign taped to my back?”
“Start from the beginning.”
Keep calm. Keep calm.
She can’t afford to lose her temper. She never can.
This was a training exercise.
“Okay,” she said. “The Iceberg… you had been there earlier. That’s why the Penguin was so chatty. He didn’t mind spilling the beans again because he thinks he’s smarter than you. And that Kobra mole… The guy ready to bolt on the next flight out of Gotham. He was unreliable and lied to you once already. But he was afraid off somebody else more than he was scared of you. Naja-something, in English or otherwise. Backwards, forwards, or upside down. It was a red herring and you figured it out a long time ago. But you had a backup plan. Someone outside of Gotham. Someone with the skills and the talent—”
“I’m sorry about your father, Stephanie.”
“Go to hell.”
She walked away.
“Steph?” Tim asked. He crept in her bedroom window. “Alfred called me. You, uh, you wanna talk?”
“He is such a jerk.”
“I know…” Tim wrapped her in a hug. “I know.”
She goes to visit Cass the next day. Cass always cheers her up.
She knocked on the door to Batgirl’s own private Batcave. “Helloooo!” she said, looking directly at the camera. “Hey Batghoul! You home?”
Nothing. Nada.
Ugh.
“Guess not,” she said.
She turned and started walking away.
The cave’s intercom crackled to life. “Come in… Spoiler.”
“Cool! Be right down!” she made her way to down into Cass’s creepy little lair. “Took you long enough! You in the bat-room or something? Get it?”
“No. I… was sleeping.”
Steph dropped her backpack down on the floor and pulled out her Spoiler mask. “It’s been a while. Thought maybe we could—”
“Not tonight,” Cass said.
“Those Daddy’s orders?” she asked flatly.
“It’s not… fair.”
“I’m not being fair?”
“No. Him.”
“Oh.”
Steph slung her arm around Cass’s shoulders. “Doesn’t mean we can’t still play, right?”
Rooftop tag was fun, even if Cass insisted that Steph play without a line like she did, which resulted in them both falling into a dumpster and Spoiler clinging to the ledge of a roof at one point.
She managed to flip herself up and kick her feet straight into Batgirl’s chest, knocking her down.
“Yes!”
Cass laughed joyously. Cass. Laughed.
“Good one,” she said, still laughing.
“Thanks for tonight. It’s been rough lately,” Spoiler said. They both sat back on the edge of the roof, watching the city skyline.
“Batman?” Batgirl asked. No. Cass asked. They had both taken off their masks.
“Yeah,” she said. “That and, um… I found out my dad died. I don’t know how to feel, you know? I mean, he was a bad guy, and now he’ll never…”
“Be good,” Cass said.
“Yeah,” Steph breathed out. “Don’t tell anybody, okay?”
“Okay,” Cass said. “Cain is my father.”
“Well, duh.”
“No. I always thought I was… adopted.”
Steph was pretty sure the word she was looking for was human trafficked. But adopted was a much nicer way of putting it.
“Oh, wow. That blows,” she said. “I used to wish I was, too. Guess that’s why I gave mine up.”
“Your what?”
“My baby.”
“Baby?!”
“Yeah.” She rested her chin on her palm, feet kicked up behind her as she laid on her stomach. “You didn’t know?”
“No. When?”
“Last year.”
“Not… Robin’s?”
Steph laughed. “No. No, we haven’t…”
“But…”
“What? You think I’m a bad person now?”
“It’s just I’ve… never even… been kissed.”
Oh, Steph could show her how. Friends did that, right?
“No way! I finally beat you at something—”
There was a loud crash.
The Lady Killers were squaring off against the Tiger Lilies down below them.
“C’mon, let’s go!” Spoiler hissed, pulling her mask back on.
“I go. You stay here. Promise.”
Batgirl was already leaping off the roof.
“…Promise,” Spoiler muttered.
She settled in to watch the fight.
“It’s the Bat! Kill it!”
“Slice it up!”
“Yeah!”
“Kill the Bat!”
She couldn’t even see her. How did Cass do that?
Then—
One of the Lady Killers got hold of Batgirl’s cape.
“No!” Spoiler jumped down off the roof. She landed a flying kick across the thug’s face, causing her to drop her crowbar.
“She was mine!” one of the Tiger Lilies yelled.
“Too bad. So sad!” Spoiler punched her backwards.
“Yeah. For you.” A Lady Killer threw a fucking dagger right towards her face.
Batgirl snatched it out of the air before it could hit her. She flung it back at the Lady Killer’s shoulder.
“You… promised,” she said.
“But I thought—Look out!”
A brass-knuckled fist hit Batgirl across the face and she retaliated with a knock-out punch without even looking.
“Oh yeah!” Spoiler cheered. Batgirl turned to her. “Oh no. Not again.”
Batgirl punched her lights out.
Steph came to to Batgirl holding actual fucking smelling salts under her nose. She jerked backwards.
“Ow. Why’d you—” she stopped herself. “You think he’s right, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Batgirl said.
“He’s not your dad. You know that, right?” she asked. “He never will be.”
“I know,” Batgirl said. “Still… friends?”
“Friends don’t turn their backs on each other.”
She pulled out her line and grappled away.
She called Dinah Lance. The Black Canary.
“Hi. This is Stephanie,” she said. God, this was awkward.
“Um, Stephanie, I don’t think you should be—”
“—Using this line, I know, but I found something that might be important, and Tim’s out of town, and I’m kinda taking a break from the Spoiler thing…” she lied.
“Okay, shoot,” Dinah said.
“It might be nothing, but… Well, you know about my dad?”
“Yes… And I’m really sorry, Stephanie. I know you must feel just—”
Dinah didn’t know shit.
“Okay, and you also know how he was working with Riddler before he died?” she cut her off.
“Of course. They were using your house as their headquarters until we chased them off.”
“Right. Well, last night I was in our side yard petting the neighbor’s cat, when I noticed that the… what do you call that metal box where the phone line hooks into the house from the street? The little panel on the front of it was open slightly. There was a note inside there, folded up tight. ‘Thur night—big party at my new place 8p. Tall and silent will be there. Bring the poprocks. E.’”
“’Tall and silent’? Hmm,” Dinah said. “Do you think it’s been there since just after we chased them off?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but the box was open slightly, and even though we had all that rain last weekend, the note wasn’t wet at all,” she reminded her.
“…So it couldn’t have been there for more than a few days. Hm,” Dinah said. “Here’s the thing, Stephanie. If this is actually a message from Riddler to your dad, that would mean Riddler doesn’t know your dad is dead. Doesn’t even know that he was arrested.”
“I know. But they weren’t together when the cops caught him. They might’ve designated the phonebox as their place to leave messages in case things got hairy. I dunno,” she said. “Anyway, I thought I should tell someone, since tonight is Thursday night. And I figure you guys probably have some idea where Riddler’s holing up currently.”
“Thanks, Stephanie.”
“And like I said, since I’m laying off the crimefighting these days—”
“You know Barbara and I never meant to imply that you should—”
“It’s okay. No hard feelings,” Steph lied. Wasn’t like the Black Canary was her hero or everything she wanted to be when she grew up or anything. “I’ll talk to ya later.”
Spoiler knelt on the rooftop across from the clocktower, watching with a pair of binoculars.
“Come on. Take the bait, Dinah.”
Black Canary stepped out onto the roof.
“Yes!” Spoiler quietly cheered.
Dinah led her straight to the Riddler’s latest hideout. Black Canary staked it out for as long as she could justify, watching Nygma drink port and read, before something more interesting called her away.
Spoiler made her move.
Ten minutes later, civilian Stephanie Brown knocked on the Riddler’s door.
“Who is it?” he called.
“Someone sent you some flowers, sir,” she said.
If he bought that, then it was on him.
Sure enough, he opened the door.
“Hi Mr. Nygma. Do you remember me?” she asked.
“Arthur Brown’s daughter. What do you want?” he asked. “I hope your dad doesn’t expect me to visit him in prison.”
“He isn’t in prison anymore.”
“You don’t say.” The Riddler smiled.
“He’s dead,” Steph cut in bluntly. Wouldn’t do to get his hopes too far up.
Riddler smiled more broadly. “You don’t say?”
He closed the door. “Just a moment!”
Steph sighed.
When he opened the door again, Nygma had on his classic domino mask, bowler hat, gloves, and question mark cane. He had already been wearing the green and purple suit because apparently that was all he ever wore.
“Now then,” he said. “Please come inside.”
Three glasses of amber liquid sat on a table.
“One burns on the tongue, one burns in the belly, one burns in the air,” Riddler said. “Choose.”
She was very familiar with this game. He played variations of it with her growing up all the time.
“I’ll guess that the one that’s bubbling is the ginger ale,” she said, choosing her glass and taking a sip. “Thanks. What was in the other two?”
“Bourbon. And lighter fluid. What brings you here, Miss Brown?”
“Like I said, my father is dead. There’s a lot about what he did that I don’t understand, and you were the last person to know him well. I just want to ask you some questions. Nothing incriminating—just personal stuff about him.” She pulled a key ring out of her pocket. “If you’ll answer me for real, I’ll give you this. I found it hidden in my basement. It’s the keys to his safe-deposit boxes—I have no idea what’s in them. Interested?”
He hummed.
“I take that as a yes,” she said. “What did he say about me? Anything you can remember?”
“It’s a gift that keeps on taking. It’s a theft that keeps on giving.”
“What? Come on. I said to answer me for real,” she said. She was in no mood for riddle bullshit or fucking clues tonight. Why can’t people just be straightforward? “How about this! Why do you believe he felt he had to leave clues at his crimes?”
“One bug is wrapped in a web, therein to die. Another bug is wrapped in its own web, there to be reborn.”
She glared. “Did he ever talk about someone who hurt me? Or mention the name Murray?”
She had never found out. It had always bugged her, the unsolved mystery of it. What the hell her father had done to make a man flat-out disappear off the face of the Earth, after he—after he tried to—
“There is a dog in a manger, but it cannot subsist on hay,” the Riddler said.
“Okay, look, just answer this one thing in straight English! Do you think he wanted to give up crime?”
“What day of the week has no man ever lived to see?”
“Answer me!” She leapt from her chair and grabbed him by the collar of his stupid purple shirt. “Did he want to stop?!”
“The tiger envies the oxen but understands only its—”
“Answer me!” she threw the glass of ginger ale at him.
“—horns—”
She pressed him back up against the wall of his apartment, one arm across his throat and the other cocked back, ready to punch.
“One straight answer and I’ll leave,” she promised. “I mean it!”
“I—” Nygma started. “…I am the number you can’t count on your fingers.”
“Damn you!” She cold-cocked him.
“You’re sick! Sick!” she shouted. He was on the floor now. She kicked him in the gut. “Sick! If I was as sick as you, I’d drink a whole gallon of lighter fluid!”
He coughed pathetically.
Steph was already out the door.