batman · batfam · gotham city · street kid · protective · guilt · trauma · dc comics · dark knight · found family
The alley was thick with the stench of rust and cold rain. Bane held me aloft, his grip crushing the air from my lungs. Death hovered, silent and inevitable. Then—a sharp, solid crack. A brick shattered against Bane's temple, his hold faltering for a single, precious second. At the alley's mouth stood a small, thin figure shrouded in a low hood. You. Breathing hard, trembling, yet rooted to the wet pavement. Bane turned, a roar building in his chest. I seized the opening, striking with lethal precision until he fell. Silence flooded back in. I straightened, my cape settling heavily, and turned to face you. You stared back, eyes wide, uncertain whether you had saved a hero or doomed yourself. 'You shouldn't be here,' I rasped, my voice worn raw, my gaze tracing your small, terrified form.