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#and absolutely grab yourself a comm; you won't regret it!
inafieldofdaisies · 4 months
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Ship Art | John x Sabrina | The Diviner and The Baptist | Commission by @derelictheretic
“Kiss me, mercilessly. Leave no corner of me untouched.” — Beau Taplin
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[tags] @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @strafethesesinners @onehornedbeast @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @adelaidedrubman @voidika @aceghosts @madparadoxum @theelderhazelnut @direwombat @florbelles @corvosattano @unholymilf @nightbloodbix @josephseedismyfather @macs-babies
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nokomiss · 4 years
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How about: "I won't forget this." *Rolling their eyes* "Thats's the idea y'know." With Jaysteph?
The tragedy happened -- poetically, really -- in Crime Alley.  
Two mid-class goons currently serving Two-Face were barreling down the middle of the street in a stolen armored truck, sideswiping anyone who didn’t swerve out of the way quick enough.  Steph didn’t even know what the special occasion was -- it was both an odd month and an odd day, so maybe it was just Two-Face causing what chaos he could -- and Steph was the closest on patrol. She swung in, regretting her choice to leave the Compact behind, and tried her best to catch up with the armored truck.
“Any help?” she called over the comms. “O, can you do something about the traffic, maybe? These guys are not following the rules of the road.”
“Already there,” Babs said.  “Red Hood is incoming.”
Steph managed to hook a line onto the truck just as Red Hood appeared on a really nice bike. Nice enough she noticed even when flying through the air aiming her body at a speeding truck.  
She landed on top of the truck with more grace than she’d been hoping for, given her iffy relationship with gravity in general, and began to make her way towards the cab of the truck. “Hood, can you distract them?”
“On it,” Jason replied, and a second later the armored truck swerved wildly as a chain wrapped around one of its wheels.  Steph kept her grip, and made her way unnoticed to the roof above the driver. She knew the glass was bulletproof, but that didn’t so much matter if the driver couldn’t see through it. She anchored herself to the top of the truck, then splattered two gooperangs on the windshield.
Instant chaos. The driver, just correcting from Jason’s attack on his wheels, lost total control of the truck as his vision was completely obscured. Steph gripped tightly to the magnetic gripper she’d anchored down. Her cape whipped around her as she tried to figure out where Jason and his bike were -- she definitely needed to bail soon, as the truck was aimed right for the concrete pillars supporting an overpass.  
“Behind you,” Jason said through the comm, clearly seeing her dilemma, and Steph let go of her anchor as she felt the truck lurch over a curb.  
She managed to somersault off the back of the truck like she did it every day, and caught onto Jason’s handlebars in a move she couldn’t replicate if she tried, but was so grateful that she pulled off. A half-turn and a twist and she was landing roughly in Jason’s arms like she’d planned it all out, and a second later the armored truck smashed into the pillar, front end crumpling like an accordion.
Jason pulled the bike to a stop, and Steph hopped out of his arms before offering him a high five. He grinned at the destruction they’d caused and high fived her back before they went to check on the goons, who were both groggy and easy to subdue. There were two dollar bills floating comically around them, like it was a cartoon, and Steph understood why Two Face had staged this particular robbery.
“Huh,” Jason said, catching one of the bills mid-air. “Who knew there were this many in circulation?”
“And in a city known for Two-Face’s crimes, even,” Steph said. “Like. What was the take, a couple hundred bucks?”
Jason pocketed the bill he’d caught, and Steph rolled her eyes at him. “What?” he said. “Batman takes trophies all the time.”
Steph could hardly argue that point, having spent more than her fair share of time climbing the giant dinosaur.  “Thanks for the assist, this went way smoother than--”
She was interrupted mid-sentence by an ominous creaking noise overhead.  She looked up, saw the cracks in the concrete, and grabbed onto Jason’s sleeve. “Run!”
They sprinted across the road, and watched in mutual horror as a broken slab of concrete, loosened by the crash, fell directly onto Jason’s motorcycle.
“Oh no,” Steph said quietly.
“Oh shit,” Jason said, and it was not the horror-struck tone of someone who had lost a prized possession. It was the horror-struck tone of someone who had fucked up majorly.
Steph looked at him.  Jason pointed at the crushed metal that had formerly been a red motorcycle with a shaking hand. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating.”
“Gotham’s infrastructure really never recovered from No Man’s Land,” Steph said, patting him on the arm. “I mean, that was a really nice bike, but at least we caught the bad guys?”
“It was a really nice bike,” Jason said. “It also wasn’t my bike.”
“Yikes,” Steph said. She cautiously moved closer, but there were no more creaking sounds overhead. The bike was thoroughly crushed, though. She poked at a bent wheel with the toe of her boot. “Bruce’s?”
Jason nodded. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“I mean, it’s not like he can’t afford another one?” Steph offered. 
“There aren’t any more,” Jason said. “And he fucking loves that bike.”
“How can there not be any more? It’s not like donut holes at the bakery,” Steph said. “It’s a motorcycle.” A Ducati, granted, and a definite loss, but… Jason was not taking this well. She wondered if he needed a hug.
“There were less than eight in the world. Seven now, I guess,” Jason said. He began picking pieces of concrete off the bike’s remains. “Come on, you have to help me hide the body.”
“Hide the -- you’re shitting me,” Steph said. “You love breaking Bruce’s stuff. Last month you took a picture of yourself next to the Batmobile you wrecked and made it the Batcomputer wallpaper.”
“Well, this is different,” Jason said. “Come on. I saved your ass, now you get to save mine.”
Steph couldn’t really argue with that, given that Jason had kindly kept her from splattering on the pavement. She began to move concrete chunks, and the more of the bike they unearthed, the worse it looked.  Oil and gasoline smeared the pavement like blood, and the bike itself was mangled beyond recognition. The bright red paint was coated with concrete dust, turning it dull brown.  
There was absolutely no way they were wheeling it away from the scene, and Steph could hear police sirens echoing down the street. They cleared off the rest of the concrete as Steph remotely called the Compact.  She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Jason doing the same. “We can drag it over behind that pillar?” she suggested, pointing to one that didn’t have an armored truck smashed into it.
It was less than fifteen feet away, but it took all their combined effort to get the bike’s remains behind the pillar before the cops came.  Steph hurried out, grabbing a broken tail light off the pavement and standing casually in front of her captured goons as the police cars careened around the corner.  
The scene looked suspicious as hell, but the actual presence of a Bat at the crime scene -- even if it was Batgirl -- had the officers off-balanced enough that no one actually questioned the pile of rubble.  Steph told them all the intel she had on Two-Face’s crime (not much, but she added enough details that it took a few minutes) while watching the Compact arrive out of the corner of her eye, and Jason managing to strap the Ducati’s remains to it without any officers actually noticing.  
It was actually pretty hilarious, watching him struggle to shove mangled motorcycle parts into a net intended for a cartoonish capture of criminals on top of the Compact while trying to blend in with the night.  He mostly failed, but luckily for him, Steph was a pretty great distraction.
“And in conclusion, what the heck, Gotham National Bank, what were you thinking? Gotta run!” she announced as soon as she saw Jason finish with the Ducati and climb into the Compact, and made a big show of firing her grappling gun and swooping off into the night like a proper vigilante.
If it hadn’t been for the one notable casualty, Steph would be having an absolutely stellar night.
She met up with him a few blocks over and climbed in the Compact, letting him continue to drive, as she had no earthly idea where one disposed of the body of a motorcycle.
Though, as he pulled up to an abandoned part of the harbor, she probably should have guessed.
They climbed out of the Compact and stood there, breeze ruffling their hair and the moonlight shining on the water. It should be a peaceful moment, but the smell of motor oil dripping from the Ducati ruined it.  
“Tell me why this bike’s different?” Steph was so incredibly curious.  Jason was not one to hide something to spare Bruce’s feelings.
Jason had his hands shoved in his pockets. They were both fully in uniform, though Jason was down to a domino mask.  For some reason, Steph thought it was easier to share personal things while in uniform; it somehow seemed divorced from real life.  Though for Jason the uniform seemed to be real life.  He stared out at the water for a few more minutes, then finally said, “I had a picture of that bike on my wall when I was a kid. Like, before things really went to shit, I ripped a picture out of a magazine at the fuckin’ library, and snuck it home in my backpack. I didn’t know it was some rare thing, I just liked the color.”
“You do like your reds,” Steph said, for lack of anything better.  
His mouth quirked up. “You sure you wanna go there, Purple Rain?” 
She bumped her shoulder up against his-- well, against his arm, but the thought was there.  “So you had a picture of a motorcycle on your wall. Very weird. Almost unseemly, for a boy to have an illicit picture of a motorcycle--”
“Wow, you just don’t stop ever, do you,” Jason said. His mouth quirked up, and then he glanced back at the bike. “Anyway. After Bruce took me in, I kept pestering him about getting me one, even though they were stupid expensive and impossible to find, because of there being only a handful in existence.” 
“And obviously he got it for you,” Steph said, rolling her eyes, because Bruce could be called a lot of things, but stingy wasn’t one of them.
Jason shook his head. “Nope. I mean -- I guess, but not as a present. I guess he bought it symbolically for my sweet sixteen. Probably drove it to my grave, the melodramatic bastard.”
Steph opened her mouth and shut it again a few times, and then turned to stare again at the wreckage of the bike.  “I mean-- wow. So he didn’t think to give it to you once, you know, you rejoined the world of the living?”
“I don’t know if you remember but things weren’t awesome between us then,” Jason said, a little testily.
“I mean, if you want to play that game, I don’t, actually, given that I was having my own post-death world travels at that time,” Steph replied in exactly the same tone. 
Jason’s mouth tightened, then he let out a sharp bark of laughter. “I kind of forgot about that.”
“Well, I don’t bring it up in every conversation I have, so….” Steph nobly managed to not stick her tongue out at him.
“You’re a saint. And no, he did not give it to me once I came back,” Jason said, bringing the conversation back to the salient point.  “I found it in the garage covered in a freaking tarp, and sometimes I borrow it.”
“Without permission, I assume.”
Jason nodded. “He’s never shown any indication that he noticed. Which, you know, for Bruce…”
“Is a miracle in and of itself.” Steph nodded back at him. “So basically -- Bruce bought you your dream bike when you were dead and you’re cranky because he didn’t actually give it to you, so you keep stealing it hoping he’ll notice.”
“When you put it like that, it sounds stupid,” Jason said.
Steph stared at him, hoping he’d get the point.
“It isn’t stupid,” he insisted.
“You’re all stupid,” Steph said. “So now you want to throw it in the harbor instead of just… letting Bruce know that you have been taking it? Nevermind that obviously he knows you’ve been taking it. I mean. Do you fill it up with gas every time? I bet not, and I bet it’s always full when you pick it back up.”
She absolutely was not speaking from experience with her own personal favorites of Bruce’s ridiculously awesome car collection.
“I--” Jason began, but then shrugged. “Shit.”
Steph surveyed the harbor again, then looked back at the wreckage. “You know, this is one way to deal with this, but… what if there’s a better way.”
Jason drummed his fingers on his thigh, clearly weighing her earlier words, then said, “I’m listening.”
*
Four hours later, they stood side by side again, this time in the Cave.
“Okay,” Jason said slowly. “Okay, I’ll say it. You are an evil genius and I adore you.”
Steph fluffled her hair cheerfully. “Glad to hear it.”
“This is-- I mean, I thought I was the best at getting under Bruce’s skin, but this is going to make him go ballistic.”
Steph rolled her eyes. “The point is not to make Bruce go ballistic. That’s just a happy little bonus.”
They were standing in front of Jason’s memorial case, which until very recently had held only his Robin uniform.
Steph had to say, the a good soldier plaque now felt far less serious, given that it was now describing the mangled remains of a motorcycle that had died in the line of duty.  She even found a sharpie and added to the plaque, in the most cutesy handwriting she could manage so that it now read JASON TODD’s dream bike.
“It’s perfect,” Jason breathed.  Steph had been unsure about what to do with the uniform that had been inside, but Jason had lovingly pulled it over the handlebars until the Ducati had become, in death, an honorary Robin. “I won’t forget this.”
Steph rolled her eyes. “That’s the whole idea, y’know. It’s a memorial. For memory-keeping.”
But then she reached over and took Jason’s hand in hers, tangling their fingers together and squeezing. “Sorry your bike died while you were helping me.”
Logically, Gotham’s poor infrastructure wasn’t her fault, but if she hadn’t needed an assist, Jason would still have his beloved bike. Well. Kind of. Would still be regularly stealing his beloved bike from his emotionally inept father, because they were both stubborn idiots.
Jason kept holding her hand, leaning in until their sides were touching. “At least it went in a blaze of glory.”
“And now it’s gonna live on forever in our hearts,” Steph said. She pulled up their joined hands and pressed a kiss onto Jason’s knuckle, ignoring the way he startled at the soft touch and focusing on the little smile he gave her.  “Wanna hide in the dinosaur and watch Bruce’s reaction when he notices?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
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