alwaysroomforhope | Suite 138: Augh. Or, Steph Is Emo. In a big way.

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Suite 138: Augh. Or, Steph Is Emo. In a big way.

Everyone leaves.

Steph's not getting out of bed today. Not like there's any reason to, anyway. It's grey and dull outside, and grey and dull inside, and everything just sucks.

Everyone leaves, and you can't stop them, and it's always going to hurt.

No, that's not true. She is getting out of bed. Bed sucks too. Restless, irritable, dismal, she pads bare-foot out to the living room and glares at the TV's blank screen. Fictional characters never have to deal with this kind of thing. It sucks.

Because you care about everyone.

The couch is kicked over and the door to the balcony slammed open, leaving a crack spidering across the glass pane. It's cold and gusty outside today; the wind catches her hair and chills her all over. The floor's icy to her feet, and her pyjamas consist of tracksuit pants and a sports bra, but who cares? It's only weather. She's dead anyway, and people are just going to keep leaving. They always leave. What's physical cold matter?

Everyone leaves.

Even Billy. One day he'll want out, too. It's too good to last. She's too screwed up, and he's too normal, and he's a real hero, anyway, not just a wannabe like her. What's she really got to offer? Not enough to keep anyone. Just enough to catch their interest, and then get hurt by them.

Everyone.

The wind, at least, catches any tears before they fall, and whisks them away from her already chilled cheeks.

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The lock clicks as Billy uses the key she gave him to come into the Batflat, and his eyes go wide as he sees the devastation.

"Holey Moley...."

He starts rtunning almost, lookijng for her, and when he sees the balcony open, he heads in that direction, heart in his throat.

"Steph? Steph are you there?"

Fear and a strange pain in his chest pound at him as he runs.

What if something has happened to--- no!

She doesn't even hear him. She's out there, though; it's only a small balcony. She's at the far end, back straight but head bowed, the wind whipping her hair across her face. Goosebumps are standing up all along her spine.

"Steph?"

Joy rushes through him as he szees her, followed by a different kind of worry as he sees how she looks.

::What's wrong?::

He walks toward her.

She steps back, instinctively, away from him - it's a small movement, but it's enough; her bare back comes in contact with the cold metal railings, and she breathes in sharply.

"'m fine."

Shock at that slams into him almost physically.

"What... what's wrong?"

::Steph, it's me, Billy. Please dont shut me out. I love you.::

"No," she whispers, through dry, cold lips. "No. Go away. Just - don't - just go away!"

It's not like he'll stay long anyway. Nobody ever does.

He stares at her, then he shakes his ehad and takes another step and reaches out his hand. and his mind echoes his words in perfect clear harmony.

::"No. I told you I wouldnt leave you, that I loved you heart ad soul, and I meant it."::

He steps forward again and his hand touches her arm.

:":I will not walk away from you. Ever."::

She's cold to the touch - she'll give herself pneumonia if she's going to keep walking around outside barefoot and underclothed.

She turns her head away, jaw tight.

"Everyone leaves. You only - you just think you won't."

From her mind, from the mental link, comes just confusion and chaos and an aching sense of loss.

::"I love you, I will not leave you."::

He takes one more step and then he ios there an he is drawing her in with a hug and love is pouring into her from the link. He doesnt know what to do, and he is frieghtened and he loves her and wants her safe.

He says it. She can't believe it. It doesn't work that way, not for anyone. Not for dead girls. She can't clear her head enough to open her mind to him deliberately - and she can't believe him. It just - doesn't work.

She's tense in his arms, cold and stiff, face still turned away.

"You can't - promise that. You don't know."

"I could die, and barred from coming here, but that is the only thing that wil stop me. As long as I have one ounce of myself about me, I will never abandon you. I swear to you, never."

The words are pushed out with an incredible intensity as he looks at her.

::I love you and I will not be kept from you, not by anything...::

He gently hugs her. He doesnt know what is happening but fear cluthces him, and then it is forced down by anger and by love and by certainty. He will NOT fail her.

She shakes her head, and then suddenly intense, pushes him away, tears herself out of his grip.

"No. No, you can't - you don't know." She's crying in earnest now, gasping for breath. "You don't - even Barry left, and he was - and Tim's leaving, and I wasn't even supposed to like him, and it still hurts, and what am I going to do when you go too?"

The balcony's not wide; the movement means she hits the wall of the building, scratching her back, and then she slides down the wall to sit, head on her knees.

"Everyone leaves," she says, into her arms. "Everyone."

he stumbles back, goes to his knees and groans for a moment as he collides with a wall, but he scrambles to her side again and without touchijg her looks at her.

"I wont leave you. I will not."

And something comes over him, something powerful, and wild and his voice shifts softly, and deeper.

"Death is no Bar to my call..."

"You will," Steph gasps, voice hitching. "You should go. We shouldn't - we're - you should go. Now. Why put it off? Why wait? What are you even doing with me?"

She turns her face up to him, blotchy and pale and tear-stained and irrational, screwed up and utterly miserable.

::"I love you. You make me happy. You are smart, beautiful, kind, fun, thoughtful, brave, honest, and you are the woman I love."::

And he kisses her, once.

::"I love you."::

"No, you don't," Steph contradicts, flinching from his touch, drawing in on herself further, curled up tight and small. "You don't. You can't. If I'm all that then why do people keep leaving me?" The last words are ragged.

"I do love you."

He sighs.

"People die and leave and move on. it is the way of life, Steph. It sucks and it isnt fair and it really is a lousy deal, but it is the way all life is... even life here, at Milliways."

He sinks to his knees before her.

"It isnt your fault and it isnt anything wrong with you. Loving me isnt going to make me leave. I love you and I am here to stay."

Eeryone she's loved has died or left her. She presses back, trying to dig her way through the wall with bare shoulderblades, and shakes her head, wordlessly.

If she lets herself love him properly, he really will disappear, just like all the others. That's not going to happen. She's not going to let it.

He reaches for her again, touching her gently, then dragging her towards him, or trying to.

"Stephanie, please... I love you. I am not going to leave you."

She's shivering, partly from the cold, partly from emotion, and she hasn't got the energy to resist any more.

But she's not going to let him make her care.

She goes limp in his arms and doesn't react, gaze caught on the forest over his shoulder, ignoring the little tracks of blood starting to make their way down her back from where she hit the wall.

He picks her up gently and begins to carry her back to her room.

"I am not going to go away. I love you and I will not leave you. Nothing is going to change that. Nothing."

That's what they all say. And she's not going to let him in, not if it means it'll be him who's gone one day, or shot, or attacked because she's been cursed again.

The warmer air inside hits like a blast of heat, and she realises he's taking her somewhere - she hadn't wanted to - she didn't -

- she doesn't really care. And she can't deny the trickle of safety that she feels, just being held by him, by Billy. And it only strengthens her resolve to push him away.

He carries her to her room and lays her on the ebd, closing the door, then joins her.

He holds her, gently rubbing her back.

"Steph, I love you and I wont leave you. No matter what you think right niow, nothing about you makes people leave or get hurt or killed, none of it is you and I am not going to leave."

And he repeats it and variations of it over and over, boith in word and in mind.

She still won't - can't - won't speak, and she's tense again, even under his gentle hands; muscles corded, back knotted, and still shaking, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

"Billy," she says, eventually, suddenly, voice raw and empty; "you said once you'd leave if I asked you to. You said if I told you to, you'd turn around and walk out the door."

She can't think of anything she wants less - or wants more. If it's the only way to protect him from getting hurt - and to protect herself, too - then it's the only way. She can't deal with this ever again. Barry, and Tim Drake, and Tim Hunter now, and her mother, her father, Dean - it's enough. No more. If she makes everyone go now, then it won't hurt.

His gasp is shocked, torn and broken, but he forces himself to speak, the words forced out thickly. He begins to cry, but he speaks.

"I would never force myself on you. If you...."

His voice breaks, and it is moment before he can speak again.

"If you tell me to go, and you really want me to, I will do so, and never bother you again."

And he winces, heart torn in a thousand pieces as he waits for what he is deadly afraid is coming.

But even he has a breaking point and he gasps out; "Please dont do this... you are wrong... please., Stephanie...please...."

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