multiversallogs | I promise I shall never give up

Entry tags:

I promise I shall never give up

Who: Stephanie Brown, Hermione Granger, Jason Todd
What: Hermione patches Steph up, Jason is a door to door violence salesman
Where: Steph's place!
When: Early morning, just after this
Notes: I am all up in yr log comm. Also I'm bad at html so if this looks weird somehow, bear with me while I fix it
Warnings: Injuries, discussions of violence, Jason Todd

By the time Steph slips into her backyard after the long, slow trip home, it's light outside. She's grateful that she's in a less busy part of Skulkford, because there's no one around to see how pathetic she looks, and there's no one to tip off the militia that she's here. She knows she should have gone to her safe house and gotten changed, but she had a feeling that even if she'd made it there, she wouldn't have made it home. She's just glad she left a spare key hidden by the back door, because she doesn't have the energy to break into her own house, and she hadn't taken a key in case she'd gotten captured.

Once inside, and with the door relocked, Steph drags herself into her bedroom, grabbing a clean towel as she goes past the linen closet. Her suit isn't as waterproof when it's got slashes in it, and the river seeped in, leaving her feeling wet and grimy. With the adrenalin rush gone, she finds her hands shaking as she drops the towel on her bed and picks up her CiD, but she has something she needs to do. It occurred to her on the way home, as she was trying to figure out how not to die, that she knew someone who could help. Hermione and her had discussed healing magic, and Steph is in desperate need of it now.

need a big favour: can you come over asap? having trouble with a work thing, need help with the stuff you were teaching me a few weeks ago.

She thinks it might be too risky to just say I need help, in case the militia are monitoring the network to find whoever was responsible for the altercation tonight. It might be overly paranoid, but she feels justified in being paranoid at the moment, and just hopes that Hermione understands what's not being said; she prays the reference to their magic lessons will be enough.

That done, and once she's sitting on the edge of her bed, she pushes her cowl off, then fumbles for the release on her cape, sighing in relief as the weight leaves her shoulders and the cape and cowl ends up on the floor -- she can pick it up later. Her gloves go next, but when she tries to reach for the zip at the back of her suit, the pain makes her give up that idea instantly. She'll just have to stay in her suit for a little longer, hopefully Hermione will be here soon.

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Steph turns to look at Hermione, "Yes, nurse," it's accompanied with a smile, that's mostly meant to reassure her everything is okay. She's not bothered by what Jason says, and takes a few steps in the direction of the bedroom before she notices the way he's looking at Hermione.

"Don't," she says to him in a low voice, although it could mean plenty of things; don't start something, don't antagonize her, but mostly she's trying to say don't hurt her. Steph might be willing to trust him for now, because if he'd wanted to attack he would have done it already, but she's not going to completely let her guard down. She knows what he did to Tim.

She has to force herself not to answer the question on Hermione's behalf, because that would be rude. Instead, she gives a quick nod in her direction, hoping to communicate that she is in on this. Or will be, as soon as Steph explains everything.

Hermione catches the look, though she isn't sure how she feels about Steph telling Jason don't. It's unnerving- and it implies she couldn't cause rather a lot of trouble if she had to.

She eyes Jason straight back, lifting her chin slightly, defiantly- but her wand is lowered. Just about.

"Both," she says in answer to him. "Near enough, at least. Steph?" She makes a move back towards where her potions are, not quite taking her eyes off the scene.

Stephanie's... request? ... makes him raise his eyebrows, as if only his words counted, and not his body language. And after a moment, even that is neutralized, in tiny ways: he straightens a little, his gaze becomes more naturally distant, and he offers his hand to Hermione. He doesn't smile, because that would be weird considering the moment that just happened.

"Jason," he says, adding after a moment's thought, "someone Stephanie should really call before she gets into trouble, from now on. Just like I might call her."

The last part is to make what he said less a rebuke and more a broaching of these terms.

"I'll call you when I know I can trust you," it's not said meanly, just a statement of fact, and she doesn't mention that before now she didn't even know he was here - although she kind of wants to - he already knows that.

But she's glad he offered his hand to Hermione, and it goes a fair way in getting her to relax. She turns and starts walking away, "We're in the bedroom if you need us," she says without looking back. She'll let Hermione follow at her own pace, Steph just heads into the room and ressumes her spot on the bed after having carefully stepped around the potions.

She's going to have to talk to Jason properly, but it can wait until she's fully healed. She at least trusts him not to steal any of her stuff while that's happening.

"Hermione," she says after a split second, taking his hand and rejecting the urge to say someone Steph actually did call. Her handshake is firm, but brief- she clearly doesn't want to waste time when she has no idea of the extent of Steph's remaining injuries, and nor is she quite sure what to make of Jason.

Instead, therefore, she says, "Good luck on the blood stains."

Ah, small talk. Maybe it comes easier to those who've never spent upwards of seven hours straight in a library. She is being wry, but it falls slightly flat considering the situation.

She follows Steph as quickly as possible, mind buzzing with questions.

Jason seems to pick up on some of the sentiment behind the idea Hermione refrained from expressing, and his smile, while not wholly pleasant, is amiable enough for him.

While the ladies retire to the bedroom, Jason goes rummaging in the laundry for a rag. Hey, Steph said they were there. He makes no attempt to eavesdrop; even if they feel like discussing him, it won't be anything he hasn't heard before. Instead he runs the rag under the faucet, adds a little bleach, and heads back outside. There, he shoos a fanged pigeon away from the blood — what the fuck, Baedal, seriously, that is so gross — and starts cleaning.

"Sorry about that," is the first thing Hermione will get when she comes back to the bedroom. Steph kind of wants to strangle Jason for having terrible timing, but if he wants to hear about what happened tonight, at least Steph can tell it to both of them at the same time. "I promise I'll answer any question you've got, as soon as I can." She doesn't care if she has to give the details of her pre-Baedal life while Jason is around -- she assumes he knows it all anyway

"How are we dealing with these bruises?" If anything has to be applied directly to the skin, things are going to get tricky.

"I should certainly hope so," Hermione says, sternness thick in her voice as she waves a hand at her vials and jars again- before she blinks. Wandless magic has never been so easy before.

Well, best to keep not thinking about it, she decides. Stress is clearly coming into play.

It's a bit of a relief to find out she can still act in a crisis.

She plucks a jar from thin air and wrenches off the top. "This should get rid of them in a few hours. There's nothing faster, I'm afraid. You just have to put it on them- you should be able to do it yourself, unless your back's bruised as well." She pauses like she's about to say something else- but it's the wrong time to ask what on Earth Steph's wearing.

The sternness just makes her smile; it reminds her of so many people and she just adds Hermione to the list of her friends who take things too seriously.

Although her expression turns wry when Hermione confirms that it's going to have to be applied to the bruises, "My back is the worst part, sorry. I hope you're okay with me taking my top off, or I'm gonna have to go ask Jason for help."

She doesn't actually seem bothered either way by this, her main problem is going to be actually getting out of her suit. Hopefully it'll be possible now that she's a bit more healed.

[[OOC: I figure we can thread with just Hermione and Steph until they go back downstairs, and then Jason can pop back in?]]

Edited 2012-03-01 12:26 (UTC)

"It's fine," Hermione says decisively, because good grief, she's not letting Jason up here. She isn't quite sure what to make of him as things stand, and doesn't particularly like the fact that he's turning up now when Steph is vulnerable.

Yes, she's already gotten protective. Older-sisterly, even.

She hesitates for a moment, taking the suit in once more, and inquires- because she's been dying to and because Steph seems slightly brighter- "Steph- I'm sorry- why are you wearing that?"

"Thanks."

Steph stands up and reaches around to find her zip; she can manage it now - thank god - although it still makes her wince in pain. The zip goes down to the small of her back, and then she peels the top half of the suit off so it hangs around her waist. There's a thin lycra top underneath, but Hermione's question makes Steph pause and huff out a little laugh.

"It's my costume," but she knows that doesn't really answer the question, "Do you have comic books in your world? Superheroes and vigilantes, stuff like that?" If Hermione says yes, Steph figures she can put the rest together herself.

And then she just tugs off the lycra top and tosses it aside; leaving her in just a sports bra. The dark bruises are mostly on her back, shoulders, elbows and hips. Her scars are visible as well, but Steph is fighting down the urge to cover them up. Hermione's seen her in costume, so there's an explanation for them. She'll just have to privately deal with her own dislike of letting people see.

Edited (wurdssss) 2012-03-05 21:38 (UTC)

"You're kidding," she says, with faint, automatic disbelief- but she doesn't really think she is. It's hardly the strangest idea she's come across in Baedal, admittedly.

"You're not kidding," she amends, seeing the scars but not commenting on them. It would be cruel- and she knows how it feels to have people bring up old wounds time and time again. Still, the sight of them worries her; she's fallen into the role of protector, once more, like she so often does with heroes.

She daubs on the ointment, brows drawn, and bites her tongue on the matter. It's not her place.

She does have a query she can't help, though, which is- "Don't the Militia hate you? I mean- I just can't see them taking very well to vigilantes."

Her smile is faint, but amused. It's not surprising that Hermione doesn't believe her at first and honestly, if Steph didn't come from a world where it's common place, she'd probably have trouble buying it too.

"Definitely not kidding," she confrms, then after a moment turns so Hermione can put the ointment on her back as well. It feels weird to have someone else look after her, she's so used to doing it herself.

The question almost makes her laugh, even though the situation isn't funny at all, "Who do you think did this?" To be fair, it's not like the militia came after her; she went for them, but still, "If they didn't hate me before, they do now." Now that's she killed one of theirs, but she's not ready to say that out loud.

For a moment, Hermione is very still.

She'd known, of course, about what the Militia could and would do- to innocents. And it had sickened her to the core, had made something in her want to rebel and revolt and- yes- hurt them. It would be better if they were just murderers and criminals. They aren't. They're in charge; they're meant to be there to protect and- how dare they?

"Those-"

She cuts her self off, applies more of the cream in silence for a few minutes.

"What were you doing?" she asks, in a tightly controlled tone.

Steph stays quiet, patiently waiting for Hermione to gather her thoughts. It's not a surprising reaction, although the stillness does make her a little nervous but she reminds herself that Hermione probably isn't going to hex her for going against the militia, and forces herself to stay calm.

She visibly relaxes when Hermione starts applying the cream again, then it's her turn to go still at the question.

"I don't know if you saw the more recent transmissions," There were a lot of them, and they went to all different places, "One of them showed a man beating kids..."

She takes a breath, steadying herself to say what she needs to, because she can't think of a decent lie and maybe she owes it to Hermione, "He won't hurt anyone again."

Hermione pauses for a moment, and then keeps applying her ointment to the last of the bruises, saying nothing for a short while as she grits her teeth and marshals her thoughts.

Perhaps she ought to tell Steph that violence doesn't solve problems. And then she looks at the bruises, the scars, thinks- she couldn't undo her own suit after what they did, thinks- a man beating kids-

How could she possibly have the gall to even think it? How could she ever be so stupid as to tell her violence doesn't solve problems when she can see all this?

Anyway- there was the war.

"Good."

When the word leaves her lips, it frightens her, but she doesn't regret it at all. Quickly, though, she moves on, shaking her head and putting the lid back on the jar with unnecessary force- her hands trembling slightly, but not much. "I didn't see anything. I had no idea."

A beat.

"Steph, if I can help- and I think I can- I want to."

It seems stupid, embarrassing, but she holds out, her expression earnest and positively shining with a desire to do something. She's struck by that familiar feeling of you, what could you do, a bookworm with no mates in a city she doesn't understand- what are you going to do, research at them- but she ignores it. She can help. She's a war hero. She's a Gryffindor. And she'll do what she thinks is right.

When she hears Hermione put the lid on the jar, Steph turns back around to face Hermione, her expression gentle. She wants to say thank you, because the guilt sits heavy in her chest and knowing that people don't hate her for what she's done helps make it easier to deal with.

The offer doesn't quite surprise her - she's seen what Hermione can do - but it's nice to know that her friends are the sort of people who will make that offer, "Thank you," It feels alright to say it now, "I think you can, too, and I'm more than happy to have your help."

Steph didn't just call Hermione because she's handy with a wand, she called her because she's trusts her and this only confirms that.

"I have a feeling this might be why Jason's here, too. A few nights ago, my friend and I went after another militia agent featured in a different transmission. We ran into Jason and another vigilante, but I idn't know it was him at the time." She'd still backed him up when they voted to kill Jennings; she wonders what Jason thought about that. Another Bat willing to kill. She also wonders if she should warn Hermione about what the man downstairs is capable of.

"Well."

She feels on edge, super-charged, and yet riding it out, in control. It's a good feeling. Let's do something about this. Scratch the 'good'; it's a brilliant feeling.

"If there are a lot of people willing to do this-" euphemistically referring to fighting against the Militia as if she's wary of saying the words aloud, and perhaps she should be "-we'll need a certain level of coordination."

She glances towards the door. "Ready to go down and see what he has to say?"

"We have the Oracle," She's aware Hermione won't know what that means, but it's something she needs to say for herself; they have Oracle. She adds some explanation for Hermione's sake, "She can coordinate the whole world if she needs to."

"Yeah, I'm--" A pause, she looks down at herself, standing there in a half peeled of Batgirl costume, a sports bra and covered in bruises and ointment, "I'm half-naked. You can head down if you want, I'll get changed."

She moves without waiting for a response, sitting down on the bed, but as she starts tugging off the rest of her costume she looks up at Hermione, "Feel free to turn him into a frog if he's annoying."

The blood gone and the door shut, Jason stands at the sink in a casually domestic pose, wringing the rag he'd used. As Hermione comes down, he glances at her out of politeness, but says nothing. He may not personally like magic, but he'd be a fool to alienate her. ... Any more than he already has, though Jason being Jason, he doesn't think of his earlier behavior in those terms. New people do have to be poked a bit to see what happens.

There's one glass in the sink and he looks at it for a second, clearly debating whether or not to wash it while he's here. Steph would probably find that snide even if it's not meant to be. It's just there, he's bored, and he's trying not to snoop.

"Oh- alright," Hermione says, giving Steph a sheepish smile. "I'll try and keep him in line."

And then she's gone, padding down the stairs, her mind whirling.

She wants to see the transmissions- wants to know what the plan is. And she wants to know, too, who 'Oracle' is. But there will be time for questions, she thinks as she slips into the kitchen, making a conscious effort to find him.

"Hullo," she says, voice even, sounding like she's determined not to be put off or intimidated. "Steph'll be down in a moment." Nothing about her voice or demeanour suggests she's going to leave them alone, either; her rather prim and unassuming look is distinctly deceptive.

"All right," he says, dropping the rag on the side of the sink and turning to lean against the counter as if he's perfectly at home. His hands rest against the edges on either side of him rather than closing off by crossing in front of him. Now that Jason isn't posturing, he's more of just another guy, though given the situation, that may not actually be more 'normal' than how he acted before.

"So you heal." It's conversational, the kind of carefully non-interrogative that indicates that's what he'd really like to do but has at least learned to refrain, to invite an answer instead.

Hermione leans in the doorway, arms crossed- defensive, perhaps. She takes him in carefully and gives an awkward smile at the mention of healing--

"I do magic," she corrects. "Healing's one of a plethora of applications for it. But yes, I...can heal, to a reasonable extent, though I've never had the formal training that actual Healers by profession go through."

"You fight too?" He watches her, but there's neither skepticism nor eagerness in his voice. Shiva and Cassandra Cain are tiny women, Tim looks like a J. Crew model, he used to run around in shortpants: appearances and mannerisms don't play the most important role in his assessment of combat skills. Maybe there's something about Hermione that, to him, screams librarian. That doesn't necessarily mean anything. It's not like you can only be a librarian.

As Steph proves. And Kate, too, for that matter. ...And Martel.

The staff of the Library of Blessed St Brian are collectively terrifying, really.

"Dueling is another part of magic," she responds, rather carefully, as if 'fighting' isn't a verb she wants to be associated with. As if she can't blow holes in things, basically. As if she isn't particularly fond of, for instance, fire spells.

A beat, and-- "I'm fairly sure you're angling, so I ought to tell you that Steph's told me quite a bit and I'm pre-" Well. No. She's not prepared to help. She's going to help. "I'll help."

I promise I shall never give up

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want Steph to come back in after this?

sure!

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