polychromatic | My girl-crush on Steph-bats is pretty huge right now

DC Universe
The PostSecret Chronicles 1
Stephanie Brown (Spoiler/Robin IV/Batgirl IV)
Written for

comment_fic
Posted here.
Prompt: Any, any, character sends a postcard to PostSecret
601 words. 1 graphic.

Up until this point, Stephanie Brown and her diary had been virtually inseparable when it came to matters in life worth venting about. "Dear Diary" had been there for her through the roughest times, so she almost felt a little unfaithful, two-timing on it as shamelessly as she was now. "Don't take it to heart, Dear Diary," she said while wrestling with the glue-stick cap, "It's not you, it's me. I just don't think our relationship is as fulfilling as it used to be. It's time I got out there to experience some other creative outlets and... yes, Steph. Talking out loud to your diary? Not a sign of dysfunctional behaviour at all."

See? This was exactly why she was doing this PostSecret thing. Because when you start addressing your diary like it's sentient, that's a sign that maybe you're starting to become a few fries short of a Happy Meal. Did her home life suck? Yes. Was she going to tell anyone about it? No. Because then social services would probably get involved, and she'd be thrown into the deep-end of the foster care system. At least Steph was reasonably sure that underneath the drug-induced catatonia, her mother still cared about her. She was probably better off where she was, and wasn't that a depressing thought? So it was just her and good ol' Dear Diary.

That's what made the anonymity of PostSecret so ideal. She could send it out and feel like she was being heard without it actually being traced back to her. It would be like going to confession - wait, was that considered a blasphemous comparison? - cathartic and cleansing and all that other good stuff self-help books bandied on about. She put the finishing touches on her postcard and admired her own handiwork, wondering how people would react.

Would they sympathize with her? Tell her how awful that was? Probably, and it was nice to get sympathy, but in the end it didn't really change anything. Maybe some people would tell her there was no way she'd turn out like her parents, and while the sentiment would be nice it was kind of... empty and meaningless, somehow. It's not like any of these people could make a judgment call on her character, what with being anonymous and all. Worse yet, what if people told her it was inevitable, that society had failed her and she would fall through the cracks, doomed to repeat the mistakes of her folks.

Well, actually, those people would just be the jerks of the internet. Dwarves, or trolls, or whatever they were called. She could ignore them.

Really, in the end, she knew how to address her own "secret" already. If she didn't want to turn out like her grade A douchebag of a dad, she'd just have to take matters into her own hands.

Slipping the postcard under her mattress for safe-keeping (who knows? She might change her mind, a teenage girl's heart is a fickle thing after all), she settled back in front of her desk and picked up her pen.

Dear Diary,

Alright, you win. I've come crawling back after my brief fling with postcard-making and am completely, totally apologetic about dumping you so unceremoniously. But a girl's gotta learn what her options are, you know?

But actually, diary, I'll be abandoning you again for a short while. I'm going to make sure I'll turn out different. I heard Dad and his creepy friends planning their next big heist, and I've got a plan to spoil it. All I need is a disguise and a name to go by...

My girl-crush on Steph-bats is pretty huge right now

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