Stephanie Brown

“About five coming off the north end,” Stephanie said, quite possibly to herself. She was hoping O could hear her on the other end of the line, but Livewire’s henchmen (and since when did Livewire have henchmen, anyway?) had set off a pinch that had all electronics in a five block radius on the fritz. “Tazers, no guns. Going in.”

The ‘alone’ part was implied. Even if Stephanie – Batwoman! The friggin’ Batwoman! – wasn’t more than match for five simple goons (which she was, thanks), it’s not like there was any backup on hand. Cass was with Huntress in Hong Kong, Tim was following his own leads across the city, Dick was with the JLA, and Damian was—

Damian wasn't a factor. He hadn't been for a long time. As far as Stephanie was concerned, he was a memory. A name that popped up out of habit, when she wasn't thinking about it. Like when you feel guilty for not ringing a great aunt for a few months, only to remember that they've died.

Steeling herself, The Batwoman tossed a smoke bomb at the goons, dropping into that fray with an easy and hard earned grace. This whole thing was about as routine as it got.