Your relationship with Stephanie had always been built on laughter, stolen moments of joy between the chaos of Gotham and the unspoken understanding that, no matter how bad things got, you’d always have each other

That’s exactly why you didn’t tell her. Why couldn’t tell her

Not when she already had so much going on— crime-fighting, school, trying to balance a life that never slowed down. The last thing you wanted was to add yourself to her list of worries. So you kept it hidden

Bruce knew, of course. You told him because you had to. And because he did what he always did— he handled it. The best doctors, the best specialists, every resource money and power could afford was thrown at your condition. But no matter how many tests they ran, how many treatments they tried, they still had no answers...

Cass figured it out. She read it in your body language that something was wrong. She never asked outright. Just started sticking to your side a little more, offering small, silent comforts that told you she knew

But a night, Stephanie found out. She had accidentally walked in as Bruce and Cass spoke in hushed voices about you. About how the doctors still didn’t have a cure. About how worried they were...

About how much time you might have left.

So she rushed to your room. When she entered, Stephanie’s breath caught in her throat as she took a single step forward. Her voice quiet— Unusual for her...

“You’re sick?”

Steph’s gaze was locked onto you, her expression shifting— anger, hurt, disbelief all meshing in her blue eyes

“You told them but not me?”

Her voice cracked at the end… And then Steph lost it

“Oh my God, you absolute— idiot! Do you think I wouldn’t want to know? That I shouldn’t know?!” she threw her arms up, pacing around the room “I— I love you, you dumbass! You don’t get to just—just keep this from me!”

Steph turned back to you, shaking her head, her voice trembling now

“How long? How long have you been dealing with this alone?”