This is gonna be a sad and personal one
Soooo, I have a big anxiety disorder, social anxiety/phobia, and all that. I have been in therapy for nearly 4 years and counting, and it really helps.
So when I was supposed to have my first theoretical driving lesson today. I really did believe in myself, I knew I was scared, but my anxiety got so much better over the years that I thought u could handle it. Turns I couldn't.
My brother drove me there, I cried before we even got into the car, and I was repeating the same sentence over and over again.
"I can do it"
And I believed it. I really did. My brother also did. He was also like, "Yeah! You can do it." I cried again in the car but was still repeating that sentence. He made a stop shortly before we were there, so I could have some extra time to hype myself up. I still really believed in myself at that moment. But then we were standing in front of it, I could see the group of people, and everything I learned, every progress I made was gone in that moment.
Amd I DID make progress, I am able to ask questions, and talk to people I never met, yes, I'm still scared af but I cam do it. So much progress, so many things I am able to do now that I wasn't even half a year ago gone in half a second.
So, I saw all these people in there, turned to my brother, and repeated a new sentence, "Can you please turn around?" Ofc, I said it in different variations."Can we please turn around?","can you please turn around?","please, can you run around?","can we please just go back home?" And many more.
He did. He turned around, we drove home.
And he isn't mad, my parents also won't be mad, I know that. But I am. I am mad at myself, I am extremely disappointed. One thing I am very proud of is that I don't run. I once had a big panic attack while holding a presentation. A really big one, I needed to sit down, or I would have broken down, barley could form sentences, bit I didn't run. The teacher told me I should take I all the time I needed, that they would wait, and what did I do? I went on. My voice was extremely shaky, it took time for me to form words, and I cried while saying a few of them, but I didn't run. And now? Now I DID run. That is what I did, I ran away. The thing I always was so proud of, that I don't run, didn't work. It's fucking disappointing. I am fucking disappointed in myself, and I think I have the right to be.
I know that if I wouldn't talk about me, that if I would talk about anyone else, I would think differently. I would be all "healing has its ups and downs, this was an down, but that's ok. It was a down to your standard now, but still a big up if you look at the way you would have handled it a few years ago. You wouldn't even left the house then!" But I'm not talking to someone else, I am talking to myself and yeah, tomorrow when I look back I will see it the way I would have seen it if it would have been someone else, but not today. Not right now. Right now I'm mad, right now I am disappointed because I KNOW I can do it, I know that but I still didn't. And I don't know why? That's the problem. Normally, I know we're the step back comes from, but not this time.
I really thought I could do it. I knew I did.
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We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!
“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”
Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.
As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.
What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.
“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground.
“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”
A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.
The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up.
He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop.
Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone.
Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified.
And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide.
For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.
It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either.
“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”
Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”
“Your folks gonna look out for you?”
“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”
“Your godfather tried to kill you?”
“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”
Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.
But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.
“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”
Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”
Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.
“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows.
“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”
.
.
.
It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.
After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.
Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative.
Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.
It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing.
“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”
“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”
“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”
“Got it. Signal out.”
His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets.
It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like.
Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.
He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner.
Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.
It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.
He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.
Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot.
A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.
The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.
“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting.
Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck.
“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”
He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.
“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.
Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.
“Get back here!”
Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.
He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.
A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.
Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.
He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.
“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”
Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.
Maybe it’s all in his mind.
“Danny?”
Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”
“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”
“My— Duke? Is that you?!”
He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.
He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.
“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”
“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”
“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”
“That’s why you—”
“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”
“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”
Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”
Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”
Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.
“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”
The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out.
Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.
“Narrows!”
The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him.
“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?”
“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first.
And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.
“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.
“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”
“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”
“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”
“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”
Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”
There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.
Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse.
And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.
This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.
“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
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inspired by @flashyysins
Two days after Hawkins was almost split open, Robin saw a woman pacing in the hospital waiting room.
There were plenty of other people as well, sitting or standing or walking the length of the room in a similar pattern, but there was something about the woman that Robin noticed. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, which she was- it's that there was something familiar about her.
She was in blue jeans and an old-school Hawkins High Letterman jacket, light brown hair twisted up in a claw clip. Robin had never met her before, she'd remember that at the very least, but still.
Something about the angle of her nose or the gentle waves of her hair felt like something Robin had seen before, something she'd be able to find in a crowded room or across a street.
But Robin had somewhere to be, so she shook off the odd feeling, and followed the familiar path to Steve's room.
---
"Hey Stevie."
Steve's smile was tired, but he was looking more lively than when he'd passed out in the waiting room the other day, so she'd take it.
"Robbie, you left me hanging yesterday."
She snorted and dropped into one of the chairs by his bed, swinging her legs over the arm rest and cradling the bag she'd brought with her in her lap. "You're the one who fell asleep during visiting hours."
He rolled his eyes, and she happily noted the colour returning to his skin. "You should be exempt from visiting hours, you're like...essential to my recovery or something."
She laughed to hide the way those words curled soft and warm around her heart, eyes stinging until she blinked it away. The dumbass had almost over-worked himself to the point of no recovery. "'Exempt?' Someone's been reading a dictionary- did one of your children leave theirs behind?"
"Oh fuck you-"
They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Robin was startled to see the woman from the waiting room hovering behind a nurse.
"You have a new visitor Mr Harrington."
Even knee-deep in confused intrigue, Robin couldn't help but dramatically mouth Mr Harrington over her own shoulder, pleased at the face he pulled in retaliation.
And then the door shut, and Steve looked up to find the woman-from-the-waiting room standing at the end of the bed.
Robin saw his brain grind to a halt at the sight of her.
It was silent (well, as much as it could be in a hospital room, what with all the beeping and whirring) as they took each other in, and Robin slowly brought her knees in closer to her chest like it would shield her from the vague awkwardness chewing at her.
And then-
"Fucking hell, Eve." The woman breathed out, white knuckling the bar at the end of his bed.
At the same time, Steve's face scrunched up as he demanded: "What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? You're in hospital!"
"I thought you were in New York!"
"Yeah and then I got a call from Hawkins General that my little brother was dying in a hospital bed! Thank you for keeping me as your emergency contact, by the way."
"Well-" Steve spluttered and then crossed his arms over his chest, wincing at the pressure on his injuries. "Obviously."
Several things clicked into place like undone locks. Steve had almost been too comfortable about "feminine" topics for as long as she'd been an active member of his life- and even slightly before.
(He'd once run out of Scoops to buy her pads when she'd started her period in the middle of a shift. At the time she'd figured he was just trying really hard to beat the still a douche-bag allegations.)
Then there were the sweaters that he wouldn't confess to the origin of, the jokes he'd make about Robin "not being the only woman in his life" that she'd thought were about Nancy Wheeler, the vehement denial that the rom-com collection in the theatre room were his.
And, while Robin hated to enforce gender stereotypes, he'd always had the kind of mean girl cattiness that was usually only forged in teenaged girls and merely rubbed off on others.
Of course Steve Harrington had a sister.
Now Robin understood why she'd seemed so familiar in the waiting room.
"What happened to you?"
Simultaneously, Robin and Steve shifted uncomfortably, meeting each others eyes and coming up blank on both ends.
Steve's sister swallowed, jaw clenched and lip quivering as she look back and forth between them. She seemed suddenly fragile, like Steve after a nightmare, or right before he'd collapsed in the waiting room after carrying Eddie inside.
Steve cracked first. "Lou-"
"Don't fucking lie to me, Stephen. This is the third time you've ended up in hospital since your senior year."
Steve blinked, startled. "How did you-"
"I'm your sister." She seethed, and Robin could see flickers of Steve with an axe in his hand in the arch of her shoulders. "You might have told the hospital not to call but I still have friends in this town. If that Hargrove asshole wasn't already dead-"
"Lou-"
"Don't-"
"It was a serial killer." Robin blurted, drawing Steve's sisters' attention to her. "I don't now if you heard about it, but someone was going around killing teenagers. It started with Chrissy Cunningham- she was a cheerleader? kind of cute in a preppy sort of way, but, um- she was killed in our friends living room and then he sort of got blamed for it because, I mean, it was pretty sketchy but he didn't do it! I promise, Eddie didn't- anyway, there was this whole witch hunt, and two more people died which just sort of made it worse for Eddie and a group of us were trying to, like, clear his name, you know? Because we knew he didn't do it and we didn't want him to get killed next, but then one of our other friends - this girl, Max, she's a riot - she was being targeted by the real killer so we came up with this...really stupid plan to catch the killer but everything went sort of tits up and Eddie and Steve both got, well-" She waved her hands at the bandage around Steve's throat and the bruising around his wrists from the vines. "And Max, she broke her elbow and her knee when she fell, and I think Dustin twisted his ankle? So now Max and Eddie and Steve are all in hospital and Dustin has these crutches that he doesn't want to use but, I mean, Steve always makes him because it's Steve, and we don't really know if Eddie's okay yet but no one's come to tell us he's not so we're still hopeful-"
"Robin."
Robin shut her mouth, and took a deep breath through her nose. Steve's sister was staring at her in the startled sort of awe that Robin was used to seeing when she got going. She had the lungs of a trumpet player, it wasn't hard for her to talk until she forgot where she'd started.
"You fought a serial killer?" Steve's sister - Lou? - asked, and Robin hysterically felt like she should offer up her seat.
Steve, bless him, only nodded. Lou stared, lips pressed into a thin line and nostrils flared slightly.
And then, quite abruptly, she was straightening her back and stepping around the bed to hold out a hand to Robin. "Louisa Harrington."
Robin blinked, and shook her hand. "Robin Buckley."
Louisa nodded, like that made sense, and smiled the same cupids-bow smile as her brother. "The best friend- it's good to meet the other half of my brothers brain. Clearly the better half, considering you aren't the one in the hospital bed."
Steve made an offended noise, and Robin grinned.
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