You were in over your head. Clark could see that from where he was hovering in the shadow of a building. From what you’d told him earlier, this was just a drug bust. Except there were a lot more of them than there was of you. Just you. So small in the alleys of the warehouses. It took everything in him not to run to your aid. This was Gotham. It wasn’t his territory nor his place to help you without you asking. He’d done it once and remembered the yelling that had ensued. Still, he had to watch. Watch as you threw punch after punch. Watch as one of the goons swept your leg out from under you. Watch as you hit the ground and rolled just in time to avoid a kick to the head. This was the worst kind of torture. Clark lowered himself onto a fire escape. He didn’t trust himself not to just swoop over if he didn’t keep his feet planted. Eventually, the tide turned and Clark let himself relax a bit. You hit hard and fast and eventually it looked like this would be over in a moment.
You were beautiful. A rushing tide of rage and vengeance. There was blood dripping from your nose but he knew you hadn’t sustained anything too serious. And then, as you were focused on a guy in front of the warehouse doors, Clark saw the gun. Someone had it trained at the back of your head. It was fine. Your armor was strong enough to withstand it. The guy you’d been focused on went down and you turned. The bottom half of your face was exposed by the mask. The gun went off. Clark was moving. It was barely a second before he was in front of you. The bullet flattened on his chest, falling to the ground with a harmless ping. You incapacitated the person with the gun, knocking them out with a swift kick. Clark stared at the bullet on the concrete. He heard footsteps and your boots came into his view. “I know—I know—we promised not to interfere.” He started. Was his voice shaking? He barreled on. “But I had to. That would’ve killed you. I couldn’t—“ Clark knelt to the ground and picked up the bullet. It was hot and he flipped it around in his palm. He looked back up at you, his eyes pleading. “You know I had to.”