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Even when Batman and Robin were only rumors and whispers, they never had an official public presence. Not even after the Justice League and the Teen Titans were formed.
Which meant that when Robin disappeared and then reappeared years younger, it was only speculation that the first Robin had moved on and become Nightwing. This was a world of gods and monsters and magic, after all; who was to say Robin wasn’t an immortal child?
This continued after the second Robin disappeared. The Robin of Crime Alley was still dearly missed, though no one ever confirmed that he was a different boy from the new bo-staff wielding Robin that appeared after six months.
The only thing that changed that for Stephane Brown was meeting Batman and Robin herself, dating Robin, and learning he was Tim Drake. Now Tim was good at keeping secrets, but she was pretty sure she’d know by now if Tim was a reincarnation of a teenage hero who'd been around for decades. She knew she was nowhere near the detective he was, but her time with them, Batgirl, and the Birds of Prey had honed those skills.
Regardless, the point was that no one had ever confirmed it for her, but Stephanie was fairly certain that the first Robin grew up, flew the cave, and became Nightwing. So hearing that their next mission would be taking them to Blüdhaven was a little surreal.
(“You’re not dumping me off on Oracle and Batgirl? Promise?”
“You’re coming with me to Blüdhaven,” he confirmed again.
She asked hopefully, “And I get to drive us there?”
“No.”)
It wasn’t a long drive there from Gotham, especially in the Batmobile, but every minute made Steph more and more nervous. Batman, the warm and kind hero he was (note the sarcasm), did nothing to help, only seeming to frown and scowl every time she twitched or even thought about asking him questions. Instead, the drive passed in silence, aside from the whine of the engine and the rustle of cloth as she fiddled with her cape.
They met up with Nightwing on the roof of one of his safehouses, and he was everything Stephanie expected and more. He was tall, muscular, handsome, and confident. It was easy to see how he might have been a hero for nearly as long as Batman himself.
The one problem was the tension in the air.
“Batman,” he greeted, almost coldly. Then he turned on Stephanie and froze. She had the distinct feeling his eyes were locked onto the ‘R’ symbol on her chest. “Who is this?”
Something in his tone made her nervous smile falter. “Oh, uh, I’m Robin! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you!”
“Where is he?” Nightwing demanded, turning to Batman. “What, did you fire another Robin?” he spat.
Batman’s eyes narrowed. “He resigned. Stephanie is Robin now.”
Steph tried not to wince. It wasn’t the first time Batman had been careless with her identity, and he hadn’t hesitated to tell Steph about Tim’s name. She had hoped things might be different, but she could only blame herself for that.
“What the hell?” Nightwing hissed. “Aren’t you the one who’s always raving about secret identities?”
She also couldn’t help the little swell of hope that gave her, someone finally pushing back against Batman for her sake. Even if Nightwing now refused to look at her.
“Have you found any leads on the buyer?” Batman asked.
Nightwing scoffed. “Why am I surprised? Yes, yes, I did. He’s one of Blockbuster’s guys. The sooner we disrupt that deal, the sooner I can get back to taking him down. Let’s go.”
The heroes grappled away, leaving Stephanie to catch up as she swallowed her dread. “Woohoo," she muttered, “team-up mission is a go.”
It was her own fault when the knife slashed across her hip.
It was also her fault when the other knife stabbed into Nightwing’s leg.
The three of them had dropped in on the weapons deal just barely too late, and the fighting started quickly. Batman and Nightwing quickly disarmed any gunmen while Steph weaved between the unarmed fighters. Batman dodged effortlessly and used batarangs to disable with ease, Nightwing flipped and twirled gracefully while wielding his escrima sticks.
Steph? She was scrappy, used to fighting alone. She was no acrobat, but she had been a gymnast, which helped her quite a bit. She used her fists, feet, and even cape to disorient and take enemies down.
She was used to having to watch her own back. So when she spun to block a fist to the back of her head, but Nightwing swooped in to shove the assailant away, she messed up. She stumbled as she tried to rebalance herself, which gave another man time to pull out a large knife, get into her guard, and slash the blade through her tunic and across her skin.
“Robin!” Batman shouted when she cried out. Nightwing rushed over to cover for her while she put pressure on the wound. That was when a second assailant feinted toward her, only to pivot low and stab their knife into Nightwing’s thigh. Batman had to pull back to assist them, but the fight ended quickly after that.
The good news was that the buyers were taken down, and neither of their wounds seemed fatal. The bad news was that at least two of the sellers had escaped in their car, taking half the weapons with them.
Batman examined both of them quickly and grunted. “You’ll both need stitches quickly.”
“But the weapons,” Steph protested, even as she winced while Batman wrapped a quick bandage around her waist.
“I attached a tracker to their car. I’ll follow them later.”
Nightwing sighed. “By the time ‘later’ comes around, they could’ve ditched their ride.” He finished wrapping his own bandage then limped to his feet. “You follow them, I’ll take her back to the safehouse and stitch her up.”
“Hrn.” Steph wasn’t sure if that was a thoughtful or disgruntled hum.
Nightwing seemed to take it as the latter, since a sharp smile grew over his face. “What, you don’t trust me?”
That brought a heavy silence over them, one with the weight of dozens of arguments behind it. Batman stood quietly and looked down at Stephanie. “That would be our best course of action. Nightwing will look after you.”
“Sounds like a plan, boss,” Steph tried to chirp, fighting off a grimace.
“I’ll call the Nightbird over and we’ll get there quickly,” Nightwing told them.
Without another word Batman grappled to the roof and was off.
There was an awkward pause before Steph asked, “So is the Nightbird your version of the Batmobile?” He nodded quietly. “Cool. Cool, cool. Can I drive us to the safehouse?"
His flat look was answer enough.
They helped each other through the window carefully, both wincing and limping over to the dining room. “Sit tight,” Nightwing told her. “I’ll grab the suture kit.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” she tried to joke. The ride there had been painfully silent, even compared to the initial drive from Gotham to Blüdhaven.
Before he returned, Steph removed her domino mask, detached her cape, and unbuckled her utility belt. Then, she got to work unwrapping the bandage and rolling her uniform to above the wound.
“What are you doing?” Steph jumped as Nightwing stomped over to her, which made the pain in her side flare angrily. “Why would you unwrap it before we’re set up?”
“I was checking the wound and making it easier to get to!” she hissed defensively. “Not like we’re going to get much of a sterile field around here.”
“Moving around like that will aggravate it more and cause you to lose more blood, kid,” he bit out, quickly laying everything on the table.
“And what do you call limping around your apartment with a stab wound inches deep in your leg?”
“I call it prioritizing, Stephanie.”
Steph winced, shrinking away for the first time. “I was just trying to help,” she said weakly. Always trying to help, but always doing it wrong somehow.
Nightwing sighed while he pulled on a pair of gloves. “This’ll sting. Gotta clean the wound before I can stitch it closed. No local anesthetic, I’m afraid.”
“I know how it goes. I’ve stitched myself up after a fight before.”
He went quiet for a moment, then Nightwing grimaced. “It’s deeper than I expected. It’ll probably leave a scar.”
“Not the first, probably won’t be the last.” Steph shrugged.
He got to work cleaning the long cut silently, and Steph bit her lip to silence any pained whines.
“Damn,” he said, looking up at her apologetically. “Can you lower the waistband of your leggings a bit more? Need to see the cut a little better.”
She grimaced but did her best. Her modesty was still intact with room to spare, but lowering the band would reveal a certain pair of scars on her lower stomach.
Indeed, even in spite of the domino mask, Steph caught the moment he saw them and realized what they meant. “Are those–?’
“Don’t,” she said coldly. “Yes, they’re C-section scars. No, I won’t talk about it.”
It took him a moment to recover, but he soon nodded and finished cleaning the wound. Even as he started threading the needle through her skin, she refused to wince or whine.
Finally, after a long while, he tied off the last stitch and got to bandaging the cut. “I’m gonna change into shorts, then I’ll stitch myself up. Need help getting to the couch?”
Stephanie frowned. “Wait, I can do your stitches for you. I’ll just wait here.”
“You ever sutured someone else?” he asked dubiously.
“Yes. I’ve stitched up both Batgirl and Robin. My mom’s an RN, she taught me how.” Recently, after finding out about Spoiler. And Robin had complained about her sutures before then. But that wasn’t Nightwing’s business.
After a few minutes, he came back wearing a tank top and basketball shorts, and he dropped a pile of clothes onto the table, including the Nightwing uniform.
“Would you mind sitting on the table and resting your leg on the chair?” She felt a little selfish for asking when he’d crouched down with an open stab wound. Regardless, her hip was tender now, and getting onto the floor and back up sounded miserable. Fortunately, he shrugged and climbed up, with her help, and she got to work cleaning and stitching the wound in silence.
He didn’t flinch or wince at all, which Steph took as a win. Especially when he told her point-blank, “You’re pretty good at this.”
She hummed as she cut the last thread. “Thanks. I’ve had lots of practice.”
“Here.” Stephanie looked up as Nightwing dropped a t-shirt into her lap. “Change carefully, don’t want to pop those.”
Steph scowled but reached for the hem of her top. “I know how to be careful with stitches.”
Nightwing turned around to give her some privacy. “And I know how excitable you kids are.” He paused, then, “Do you end up with stitches often?”
“More often than I should," she lamented. “That’s probably why no one ever trains me for long. Lost cause, diminishing returns.” She took a deep steadying breath. “That’s never kept me down, though! I mean, look at me! I’m Robin now.” Until Tim wants it back…
Nightwing had his back turned still, but he didn’t seem convinced. “Batman’s trained you, hasn’t he?”
“Batman, Oracle, Batgirl, Huntress, Black Canary. All tried, all gave up. Well, Cass still tries sometimes, but I don’t think she likes it. I’m not a very good student.”
A pause, during which she let him know he could turn back around. Then, “‘Cass’? You know her name?”
“Just her, Barbara, and Tim. And I guess Alfred.”
He just hummed as he limped over to grab a holiday cookie tin across the room.
Don’t tell me. Steph watched him sit on the armchair across the coffee table, set the tin down, and open it to reveal a full set of sewing supplies.
Steph tilted her head curiously. “Can you sew?” she asked.
“No, I’m just threading a needle for dramatic effect,” he said dryly, but the smirk on his face was the closest to a real smile she’d seen all night.
“Well, I’m just surprised is all. You don’t really seem the type.”
“My daj taught me, my mother, when I was very young. Alfred helped me stay in practice, which helped when I left Gotham.”
Steph sat up straighter. “So… is it true then? You were the first Robin back then?”
Nightwing froze. “Did… Did none of them tell you? Tim? B-Batman? Barbara?”
“No one tells me anything,” she lamented. “No one’s even confirmed Barbara was the first Batgirl.”
They were silent for a bit again, but it slowly grew warmer. Less cold and more comfortable.
Eventually, he asked, “So, ‘Stephanie,’ right? As in ‘Stephanie Brown’? ‘The Spoiler?’ Tim’s on-again-off-again girlfriend?” She just nodded. “We never really met, but we saw each other back in No Man’s Land. You seemed to like Spoiler well enough. Why be Robin?”
And how to answer that? I thought Tim was cheating on me (but I was wrong, again) and wanted to make him jealous, so I took the mantle his dad forced him to give up? Yeah, that would go so well.
“Well,” she started, “it was pretty selfish at first. Tim was gone. Spoiler just… wasn’t cutting it. No one ever believed in Spoiler. You don’t look to the sky and say, ‘Wow, it’s Batgirl and Spoiler!’ or ‘Look, it’s Spoiler and Robin!’” She shrugged. “So I, uh, made my own Robin suit and broke into the Batcave. Basically demanded he make me his Robin.”
Nightwing fully laughed at that. Stephanie wanted to be offended, but he had maybe the warmest laugh of any hero she’d met up to that point. “No joke? Okay, stop me if this sounds familiar: I made my first costume myself and suited up to take revenge on someone. Batman tried to stop me at first, but he couldn’t, so he decided to train me instead.”
Steph fully gawked at him. “Really? No way!”
He put his hand over his heart. “On my honor as a hero, it’s the truth.”
“Well…” She hesitated, but he nodded encouragingly. “Why’d you stop? Why did you become Nightwing instead?”
“According to B, I got in over my head.” He pulled aside his tank top to show a scar on his shoulder. “I’d been spending more time with the Titans, and when I came back to Gotham, I got shot by the Joker.” Steph’s eyes widened, but he shrugged. “When I woke up, he’d locked away the Robin suit and told me to quit.” Then he smirked. “I went back to the Titans and made myself a new Robin suit at first. Then Jason showed up in my colors, and I decided it was time for a change.”
“Jason? Was that the second Robin?” She’d seen the memorial in the Batcave during Robin Boot Camp but never had the courage to ask about it.
Nightwing nodded. “That… that was him. Batman gave him the suit. He was a sweet kid, maybe a little arrogant. Always said Robin gave him magic. At least, until he was a teenager. He got angry, but what teen isn’t angry at one point or another? Anyway, B fired him, too. Then, well, he went looking for someone as Robin, but he found the Joker instead. Joker killed him.” Nightwing’s shoulders were stiff. Steph had the feeling he'd squeezed his eyes shut behind the domino mask. “I wasn’t on Earth at the time. I didn’t learn about it until it was all over.”
Stephanie gasped. “That’s horrible. I’m so, so sorry.”
Before she could say anything else, he seemed to shake himself off. “It’s in the past,” he said. “Nothing I could have done, nothing I can do to bring him back now.” She wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. “After that, Tim figured out something had happened to Robin, since Batman was getting excessively violent. Suited up to try and help Batman and Gotham.
“That was always the difference between me and them,” he told her. “They became Robin for Batman and Gotham. I became Robin for myself. Sure, it became about helping people, but it started with revenge.”
Stephanie nodded. “That’s how it was with me and Spoiler. Cluemaster ruined my family, my life. I wanted to ruin him. To kill him, at first. Not for my mom, not really. Just for me and little Stephie Brown, who never really got to have a father.”
“Me too,” Nightwing said, nodding too. “I wanted to kill the man who killed my dad and daj, Tony Zucco. I chose the name ‘Robin’ because it’s what she called me, her little robin.”
That made Stephanie freeze in horror. “Wait. Batman took your mother’s name for you away? Gave it to some other kids?” Oh, she was going back to Spoiler immediately, and Tim couldn’t ever be Robin again.
But he shook his head. “That’s how it felt, at first. And, well, that’s why I was so hostile to you earlier,” he said apologetically. “But after a while, I gave Jason and Tim my blessing. They were Graysons, too, just like me and my parents.”
Wait. Tony Zucco? I know that name. Grayson too. “‘Grayson’?” she asked hesitantly.
Nightwing smirked and sighed. “Batman really hasn’t told you who he is yet?” She shook her head. “Well, let me give you a hint.” He reached up and, to Stephanie’s shock, took off his domino mask. His blue eyes met hers. “Nice to meet you, Stephanie. My name is Dick Grayson, of the Flying Graysons.”
It was a while before they finally got word from Batman (Bruce Wayne was (probably) Batman??): he’d followed the car to an abandoned compound between Blüdhaven and Gotham. He could take them down on his own but it would take some time. He’d pick up Stephanie as soon as he could, and they’d end the night when they got back to the Batcave.
As time passed, they decided to throw on a TV show in the background, eventually deciding on Avatar: the Last Airbender. Then Steph’s stomach growled, and they decided to make a quick meal for themselves.
While they talked, the conversation wrapped back around to the scars they had. Dick told her about a burn on his hand from cooking, she told him about a cut on her shin from a gymnastics fail. He told her about a cut from when he broke a chandelier, she told him about a scar on her knee from tripping on concrete. But she knew what he really wanted to know about.
So when he told her about a scar on his back from Deathstroke’s sword, she told him, “I had a kid. Labor complications, so they had to do a C-section.” She took a deep breath. “Tim wasn’t the father,” she reassured jokingly.
He paused, then asked, “Who was?”
“Dirtbag named Dean. I was pregnant during the Cataclysm, he skipped town while I stayed. I decided it was better for them if I put them up for adoption.” She paused. “Her, I guess. I had a daughter. I asked Tim recently, when Dean tried to come back into my life.”
“He sounds like a piece of work.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Dated him when I was fifteen. He told me he was eighteen. Turns out he was twenty-two.”
Dick went very still. “I’m sorry that happened, Steph. If it helps at all, I get it. A woman named Liu, back just before I left Gotham. I was sixteen.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she gave him a small smile. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“Thank you. Neither did you.”
“Thanks, Dick.”
They sat and ate quietly for a bit, then Dick said, “I have a scar on my chest from when Flash tripped and dropped me after a big battle where I didn’t get hurt once.”
Steph snorted, nearly choking on her food.
Stephanie didn’t remember falling asleep. Only that she’d laid on the couch after they’d eaten, meanwhile Dick stitched their uniforms closed from the cuts they’d gotten that night. She was really only half-aware when she woke up, but she didn’t feel like she was in danger or anything. If anything, she felt more warm and secure than she had in a long time. It felt like she was being carried, wrapped up in a blanket. It wasn’t until she heard voices that she finally popped open her eyes a bit.
She was being carried. By… Batman, it sounded like. And he had her wrapped up in his cape like a little girl. Her first instinct was to fight it, but she was still groggy.
“She’ll be fine,” she heard Dick say. “I gave her a talk already, so save the lecture for after the trip home, okay, B?”
Batman hummed, “She made a mistake that got both of you hurt.”
“And we talked about it. She wasn’t expecting someone to be watching her back, so take it easy on her. Sounds to me like she doesn’t usually have someone covering her blind spots.” His tone grew accusatory, and the rest of the walk to the Batmobile was silent.
She didn’t speak until Batman set her down in the passenger seat, pulling back and taking his cape with him. Then she whined at the sudden cold. “Dick?” she asked.
She didn’t notice the way Batman froze, not when Dick crouched down to her eye-level. “Hey, kid. You okay?”
“Cold.”
He clicked his tongue. “Well, we can’t have that. Here.” He reached over her and draped the Robin cape over her like a blanket. “Better?” She nodded as she snuggled into its warmth. “That’s good.”
“Hey,” she said suddenly. “Don’t crouch. Your stitches will pop.”
“I’ll be fine,” he chuckled. “Your shirt is all stitched up, too. I’m gonna leave it at your feet.”
“Mmkay. Thank you, Dick.”
“You’re welcome, Steph.” It felt like it had been so long since anyone had said her name so softly. Not with hot anger or cold apathy, but with warm kindness. “Take care of those stitches, got it?” She nodded. “Attagirl,” he said, ruffling her hair gently. “Time for you to head back to Gotham with B.”
“Okay,” she said with a yawn. “Take care, too.”
“I will. I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Good luck. You’re gonna do great, Robin.”
As he closed the door, Stephanie Brown smiled and snuggled further into her cape. The thoughts that followed her into sleep were these: the first Robin approved of her. She was officially, officially, the fourth Robin. And no matter what happened, no one could take that away from her.