#ok i lied i DO know the last outfit Tim has and its banging BUT I CANT DRAW IT ITS TOO HOT and its not red robin i think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

themandylion · 7 years

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[fic] the rarer action is - deleted scenes 2

More deleted scenes. I wrote so many versions of Stephanie’s rescue from the Egyptian? Here’s one from another pov. In this version, Steph is in her Spoiler outfit (because she was in the comic even though it makes no sense because she wasn’t when Selina grabbed her but continuity, what’s that???). Also, ALSO, I totally found a scene that somehow didn’t make it into as strange a maze for some unknown reason that probably made sense to me at the time? Whatever, everyone gets to read everything! \o/ (Lies, no one will ever get to read everything, there are too many notebooks for that.)

An inch more and Steph will have her fingers on the knife secreted away in the lining of her boot. It’s her own fault for taking this long—Oracle tried to convince her to keep it in a hidden pocket on her thigh, or at least wear taller boots, but Steph hadn’t listened, had been sure she’d never need it, would never get caught. Had never expected

Catwoman, of all people.

Steph’s contemplating dislocating her thumb when the door to the vault starts its slow swing open.

“—boots can’t clash with anything—it’s not about the style, it’s about the attitude of the person wearing them. And anyway, it’s not purple,” a familiar, artificial voice drifts through the open door, “it’s aubergine.” A muffled bang punctuates this final statement.

Oracle is tucking a gun into a smart evening bag when she walks in. Steph gives her a hairy eyeball. “Rule One?” Stephanie asks, because as glad as she is to see Oracle, she really doesn’t want to risk being the accessory to a murder.

“Rubber bullets; he’ll have a killer headache, but otherwise he’ll be fine. Nice to see you too, Spoiler.” Oracle is wearing combat boots, a deep purple cocktail dress, and her mask.

“I could have got out on my own,” Stephanie says, a little annoyed. “I have a knife.”

“And I have C-4,” Oracle tells her as she unites the rope around Steph’s wrists and ankles. “So does Flying Fox on the floor above us.”

“You’re going to blow up Catwoman’s vault?!” Steph’s friends are crazy. No wonder her mom wanted to skip town.

Oracle climbs up on the chair Steph was sitting in and starts sticking balls of plastic explosive to the ceiling. “You’ve pissed off people with power. Cluemaster has League assassins after you. We need a quick and quiet exit.”

“Explosions aren’t quiet!” Stephanie hisses, fumbling her mask back into place.

“Bluebird has it under control.” Oracle attaches a wire to the C-4 and pulls Steph back into a corner of the vault. She presses the side of her mask. “B? Maneuver R1—flash and bang, at least five minutes, ten is better. FF, on my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark!”

The explosions aren’t nearly as big as Steph expected, and when the dust clears, there’s a hole in the ceiling just big enough for Oracle and Steph to fit through. A rope falls down from it, followed by Flying Fox’s head.

“Hey, Spoiler. Got your gear here. Ready to blow this joint? O says you get to come home with us, and I’m thinking breakfast for dinner.”

The computer lights up as soon as Tim sets foot in his room on the yacht.

Ok, just so you know I totally didn’t see this coming.

“Um, what?” After spending who knows how long bouncing around the timestream, Tim’s exhausted. It doesn’t help that, because of time shenanigans, less than 72 hours have passed in the “present” while the Titans have been occupied elsewhen. At this point, Tim honestly doesn’t have enough functioning braincells left to deal with Oracle.

The Nightwing thing. Didn’t see it coming, I’m as shocked as you.

Shit, that’s right. Between one thing and another, Nightwing’s capture by the Crime Syndicate totally slipped Tim’s mind. “S’okay. He gets himself in over his head all the time,” Tim says, but already his body is dredging up the last reserves of his adrenaline, encouraging him to kick into high gear, to start panicking.

Ouch. Haven’t talked to the family yet, then, huh?

Already, Tim’s stumbling backwards, trying to find the pieces of the Red Robin suit he just took off. “Oracle, what—what happened with Nightwing?”

If it’s any consolation, the stats are on his side. 100% of all former Robins who died after being fired from Robin turned out to actually be faking their deaths.

This can’t be happening. Dick can’t be dead—he’s the most together of them, the least neurotic. The hero the whole masked community admires, respects. Loves. “No,” Tim says, stopping his mad rush. “You’re wrong. Batman saved him.”

Hey, look, all I know is that there was a bomb, and it was wired to Nightwing’s heart, and he had to die for the bomb to stop.

“Batman would have found a way to save him. Resuscitate him. Batman would never let Nightwing die.” Dick is the best of them, what Bruce keeps trying to replicate with the rest of his Robins. Letting Dick die is the last thing Bruce would ever do.

Look, Red. I know it’s hard to grasp, but according to everyone there, he’s dead. BUT. Like I said–high probability that he’s faking it.

“One nonexistent case does not a trend make,” Tim says, collapsing on his bed. He feels sick and drained, only now it has nothing to do with time shenanigans and everything to do with how his heart hurts so much he’s sure it’s about to just—give up. “Your case study is the nonexistent Robin, right? The girl one.”

Don’t discount my science just because I have no hard evidence to back it up. It’s not on me that someone broke the world. Which, hey, could be your fault, Mr Let’s-Take-A-Jolly-Jaunt-Through-Time. Nevermind timeline integrity.

“Hey, that—It’s not like we did it on purpose,” Tim splutters. After all, if he’d had any choice in the matter, the Titans would’ve all stayed in the present. Yes, it’s nice to finally have an answer for how, out of all the trains and traincars available, Miguel hopped on the same one as Tim last fall. But he’s still not sure if the closing of that particular timeloop was worth the loss of Bart (Bar, a part of Tim hisses, call a murderer by his name) and Kirin.

Yeah, yeah. Still, if the world goes cockeyed again in the next six months, I’m totally holding you responsible, I don’t care if you can’t remember it.

#The Tempest of Team RedBird #my writing #Stephanie Brown #Tim Drake #Prudence Wood

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