Chapter Text
Harper Row is formidable. Through the good, the bad and the frankly weird, that's one thing she's learnt is practically written in stone. She is formidable, unshakeable, and strong. She can do anything she puts her mind to, even in the worst situations. She's proven time and time again that she can and will succeed. But, Harper is aware she's also young, wild, rash- trying her best. People rarely seem to care about her best though.
It's not easy balancing a job, college, raising a teenager, and vigilantism. It's one of the most difficult things Harper has ever tried to do but usually it's worth every soul crushing, self splintering moment. However, there are brief moments when it feels like the walls are shrinking in or a tsunami is crashing down. It's moments like these that she wonders whether it's worth it.
She doesn't doubt her place in raising Cullen, of course, never Cullen. Even in the secret moments, the ones she keeps tucked deep inside of her never to see the light of day, when she envies him being the younger child, the one with more stability, with a trusted adult to lean on, with unwavering support and care. She'd never mention those seeds of jealousy and longing though, because despite her desires, Cullen's worth it. He's worth every difficulty, every smile, every moment she has. Harper would give up everything and anything if that's what Cullen needed to be happy, healthy and safe. Still, she can't quite smother her envy, especially when the closest thing Harper herself has to a trusted adult, can barely stand the sight of her some days.
Wanting Bruce Wayne's approval, Harper has found, is somewhat like an addiction. It's not necessarily the most healthy thing to strive for, yet, despite the pain it causes her, Harper returns again and again hoping for those moments when he's proud, when he's kind, when, for a time, she feels loved.
It was not one of those blessed moments that leads her to the door of a shoddy apartment in the East End; instead it's cold words, disappointed scowls and a cracked blue mask. Harper knocks sharply on the door before raising her hand to run her fingers through her hair. Purple and blue stick up on end in an unkempt fashion that would have Alfred fussing. Luckily, Alfred isn't here. Harper isn't sure she'd be able to face him if he was- nobody likes to disappoint the grandfather figure.
Steph pulls her door open, speaking before the door is even fully open, “Hey, did you get assigned a new-” She pauses, eying Harper critically. Her body language goes from relaxed to defensive and angry within a split second. “Who do I need to fight?”
“Nobody,” the dismissal is almost second nature at this point. Bruce messed up and the person he hurts just continues on as if they're the one who's in the wrong.
“Uh huh,” Steph doesn't even pretend to believe Harper. She opens the door wider and grabs Harper's arm. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Harper lets Steph drag her into her apartment. Steph's mum isn't home, but Harper had expected that- she should be at work around now.
“Ice-cream, angry music and alcohol.” Steph looks Harper up and down in a ridiculously fond but extremely judgemental way. “You look like you need it.”
Harper hesitates. She hasn't drunk in months, she has too much going on to let her guard down in the slightest. And even if she did have time to relax, she can't spend her evenings drinking when she's meant to be looking after Cullen. “Cullen-”
“Knows you're out, yeah?” Steph gives Harper a look, already knowing the answer. Despite knowing that she knows, Harper still nods anyway. Of course, Cullen knows where she is. Steph nods sharply and pulls out her phone. “He'll be fine. I'll even text Duke to head over, if you want?”
“Yeah,” Harper half smiles. Steph always has the simplest solutions; usually through reminding Harper that she isn't alone anymore. Even if Bruce isn't satisfied, the others will nearly always help. “He'll like that.”
Steph hums and nods, typing with one hand. When she finally tucks her phone away, she grins at Harper, “Duke's going to stay the night, and we're going to get drunk and eat ice-cream while you tell me what's going on.”
Harper rolls her eyes but doesn't complain as Steph shepherds her into the lounge. Harper curls up on the creaky old couch while Steph leaves the room again. When Steph returns, her arms are filled with bottles and two tubs of ice cream. Harper laughs at the sight of a spoon already in Steph's mouth. “You're a terrible influence,” She jokingly complains. Harper reaches out to help Steph empty her arms.
“And you're a stressed mess,” Steph shoots back. The pair settle on the couch, a tub of ice cream, a spoon and a bottle of cheap white wine each, “Spill.”
Harper takes a long drink of alcohol before she even considers replying, “I just- I'm really trying, you know? I've been trying to keep things together, keep me together, keep Cullen together, keep the world from crashing around us, and then I have to juggle work, and Bluebird. I need it,” Harper feels like she's almost pleading with Steph to understand.
And because it's Steph, she does, “You couldn't give it up now you've started, but it takes up every little spare piece of energy you have?” Steph nudges Harper's ice cream tub with her foot, prompting her to eat.
Harper nods in agreement and has a mouthful of ice cream before replying, “Yeah,” She laughs self-deprecatingly, “And I don't have much energy to spare as it is.” Harper takes another swig of her wine.
“That's because you push yourself too hard,” Steph points out like a hypocrite, “You need to rest at some point.”
“The bat motto is pretty much ‘I’ll rest when I'm dead, and I might not even actually rest then'.” Harper rolls her eyes, she's hardly the most overworked one of them. “Everyone else is similar.”
“Yeah, but you're pretty much the only one successfully raising a child and being a vigilante at the same time.” Steph points her spoon at Harper to emphasise her point.
“Bruce-” Harper cuts herself off at Steph's raised eyebrows. “He tries?”
“Does he?” Steph makes a dramatic considering expression, “Doubt.”
Harper huffs a laugh, “Alfred then.”
“Alfie isn't an active vigilante so, while a star, does not count.” Steph kicks Harper's knee. “Now, what did B do?”
Harper startles slightly at the question, fairly certain that she hadn't said Bruce was the main cause of her sudden spiral. “I didn't-”
“I know everything,” Steph smirks, winking at her.
Harper gives her a doubtful look, “Pretty sure that's Babs actually.”
Steph kicks her harder this time. “Rude.” The pair laugh and eat and drink for a content minute as companionable quiet sets over them.
“He said that I'm not made for being a vigilante, that if I'm going to make reckless mistakes I should just quit before I get anyone killed,” Harper sighs, then takes a long drink of her wine.
“Bruce is such a fucking asshole sometimes,” Steph says bluntly, “And most the time he's also just plain wrong.”
“I had a plan.” Harper runs her hand through her hair. “There was a fear toxin threat but the tip off we got- it didn't make sense. The others thought it was going to be released through air-conditioning units but- I was so sure it was going to be put into the water.” She'd been so, so convinced. “Turns out we were all wrong, toxin contaminated a brewery instead.”
“Let me guess, you're the only one B yelled at?” Steph has that look in her eyes, like she can tell what a puzzle looks like before she's even put all of the pieces together.
“Uh, yeah,” Why was her being wrong worse than everyone else being wrong?
“You didn't do shit wrong.” Steph holds up a hand to silence any disagreement from Harper. “You didn't. B was frustrated and instead of handling it like a big boy, he lashed out at you. That's a him problem, not a you problem. Who else was on the case?”
Harper feels a bit of pressure relieve from her chest the moment Steph confirms that she didn't completely mess up. Steph, in Harper's experience, will call anyone out when she thinks they're in the wrong. “Dick and Tim?”
“Right,” Steph nods like she was expecting a similar answer. “So, you, Dick, Tim and B were on a case and none of you got the right answer first time. B got frustrated and, because he needs a shit ton of therapy and self reflection, he lashes out instead of processing his emotions. He knows that Dick and Tim won't put up with his shit anymore, so he makes you feel like everything is your fault because you're there and you're the least likely to punch his face in for it.” As Steph explains, guilt and stress slowly melts away from Harper. Steph's right, this isn't her fault. None of them knew it would be the brewery, if anything Harper's answer was the closest. Maybe it wasn't her fault? “Easiest solution: next time Bruce is a whiny bitch to you, punch him in the nose.”
Harper burst out laughing at Steph's extremely genuine suggestion. Steph grins at her, causing her to laugh more. Soon, Steph's laughter joins Harper's and the rest of the night is lost to alcohol, ice cream and being the young adults that they are.
–
“Hey, B,” Steph looks down at Bruce, smiling to herself at how he looks sprawled out on the floor. She taps a spare grappling hook, one she had just denied having, in her hand.
“Spoiler,” He grunts, slowly rising to his feet. There's a scowl on his face, there often is, but he's being slow in formulating his words, cautious. “Is there a reason that I had to scale the wall instead of borrowing a grappling hook?”
“I don't know,” Steph's voice drops from amused to hard, “Is there?”
Bruce stands silently, trying to batstare Steph into telling him what's wrong. Unfortunately for him, the fact he can't figure it out only makes her more angry.
“Bluebird is double the person you are and more than a hundred times better a guardian. She's doing so much and so well, you had no reason to treat her like that, B.” There's a buzz around Steph that reminds Bruce of Dick when he's very angry.
“I-”
“No,” Steph doesn't give him a chance to make excuses, “Just because your fragile ego was hurt doesn't mean you get to put her down. You all messed up, you then fix the mess. You don't drag down someone who's trying her best- someone who looks up to you.” Steph takes a step closer to Bruce, her body language screaming aggression. “Apologise to Bluebird.” With that final threat (and it was a threat, have no doubt) Spoiler turns on her heel and grapples away.
A week of petty revenge, Spoiler trying (and often succeeding) to fight him every time she saw him, and cold disapproval from Alfred, Bruce apologises.
Harper, grin on her face, makes him grovel. He deserves it.