She's out by the lake, on the outcropping of rocks that sometimes serves as a diving board and sometimes just as a brooding place. It's the latter right now; Steph's dangling her legs, watching her reflection in the still water, looking pensive.

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 ( Read more... )

Even in April, the lake's cold, and so it's a slightly blue-lipped Steph who pushes open the Batflat door and gestures Billy inside. "You wanna go first in the bath, or me?"

Steph's sprawled on the couch, watching Wendy the Werewolf Stalker - old episodes, but they're always good for a re-run. There is popcorn nearby. Also, chocolate.

And the door's invitingly open, spilling sound and light into the corridor. Stop by, if you're passing. Her flatmate's randomly vanished, and she could always use company.