alwaysroomforhope | (no subject)

Steph has been in Kenya for months and there is a number she hasn't called.

Well - okay, there's a lot of them, given that she hasn't kept in touch with anyone from her former life. But one in particular. One that she keeps worrying at, like a sore tooth. She knows Barbara knows she's alive, she knows Barbara knows where she is. Babs knows everything.

Steph hasn't really felt any motivation to call but even so, she's still a little hurt that Babs hasn't made the effort either.

It's early morning in Kenya. They aren't big on clocks these days, but it's not sunrise yet. Steph does not like the dark particularly well; it's too dark. Not like Gotham's night. Out here there's nothing. Animals noises she doesn't recognise, and the stars. Way too many stars.

But she can't sleep. And for once, they're in a village that has regular electricity, and her cell phone is charged. Leslie insisted they have cell phones and Steph didn't really have any reason to argue - and tonight - this morning - she's actually about to use it.

Not that she has any idea what time it would be in Gotham. Or really cares. Barbara will be there.

It takes her a while to get through to Gotham - although it's easier than it could have been. And she's still not really sure what she's going to say when it finally starts to ring.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Steph waits for a wave of relief to wash over her.

It doesn't.

Barbara wouldn't necessarily tell her, after all.

She switches the phone to her other hand, wiping sweat from her palms. "... why can't I remember them properly? I've heard of - you know, there was that one guy who woke up from a lobotomy speaking a different language, or something, and I - I mean, I just - I don't know what's going on with me, Babs. Leslie keeps talking about PTSD but that's - it's something else, I'm sure of it."

"You're right," Barbara agrees. "It's not PTSD. I mean, you've got that, too. But... that's different."

She sighs.

"Just... look. You're not going crazy, Stephanie. And... to tell you the truth I'm a bit relieved to hear that you're remembering things. Even if they don't feel like your own memories. You know?"

She hadn't killed one girl to save another.

Steph rests her head on her knees, listening to the silence. No traffic, out here. No people screaming. Nothing but wind, and occasionally animal noises that she can't even identify.

And Babs, small and crackly on the far end of a phone line, being as incomprehensible as Babs always is.

She knows something. And she's not telling Steph.

"You're not really making any sense," she points out. "I mean, I'm happy to listen to you ramble as long as you like, but it'd be great if you started telling me what's going on sometime soon."

"I think this is one of those things you find out for yourself," Barbara says a bit hesitantly. "But... I can tell you this. Keep your eye out for doors."

Yeah. That is going to be such helpful and non-cryptic advice.

Steph frowns at her knees.

"Doors."

Babs snorts. "Yeah, I know."

She sighs. "And... stay in touch?"

If she knows she could say. Steph tightens her fists in frustration.

"Yeah. Okay, Babs."

"You're going to make it, Steph. Don't forget that."

"Yeah," Steph says, quietly, not sure if Babs is even still on the line.

"I won't forget that."

Doors?