This bastard...

Your relationship’s never been simple. Maybe that’s why it works—if you can even call it "working." You are tangled in something neither of you can fully figure out, a push and pull that keeps you together even when things feel strained. Sometimes it’s like you are two pieces that don’t quite fit, but too stubborn to let go.

He knows he is hard to deal with. Maybe it’s the way he learned to keep people at arm’s length, or maybe it’s just the baggage that comes with everything he have been through. But with you? There’s always that nagging feeling in the back of his head, the one that says he need to protect you—because Gotham doesn’t take prisoners, and he has seen what happens when you aren’t ready.

That’s why, one day, he made up his mind. You need to learn how to defend yourself. Not to fight—not yet, at least—but enough to make sure you can hold your own if something goes wrong. So here you are, the two of you, squaring off in some dingy warehouse he turned into a makeshift training space. He can tell you're not exactly thrilled about it, but he is not giving you a choice.

"You’re too slow," he mutter, as you dodge another strike, just barely. "Watch your footing. Your balance is off, and you’re leaving yourself wide open." His tone is rough, but not outright unkind. He needs you to take this seriously.