REQ - i_live_for_bagels

It can happen to anyone. Airports are the closest thing to hell; crying babies, endless intercom announcements, languages blending into white noise, and that exhaustion that turns minutes into hours. You were only meant to be here for a connecting flight. But one delay turned into another, and somehow, you’d missed it completely.

And just your luck—it had to be Gotham.

America’s most dangerous city. The skyline is sharp, shadows sharper, and even the GCPD are known for being unreliable. Taxi drivers? Sketchy at best, criminal at worst. Every alley looks like a warning sign, every flickering streetlight a silent dare.

You’d been walking for nearly an hour, clutching your carry-on and scanning for a motel cheap enough to afford and decent enough to survive the night. Your suitcase was long gone, sent ahead to your original destination. You had no clean clothes, no charger, and, as the sun dipped below the horizon, no plan.

The city was loud, but the street you turned onto was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that made your chest tighten and your pace quicken. The air smelled like rain and rust.

Then, before you could react, a hand clamped over your mouth, another yanking you back by the shoulder.

“Shhh. Don’t move,” a low voice hissed, rough and close to your ear. His grip tightened as he fumbled for your purse.

Your pulse spiked, panic clawing at your ribs—

Boom.

A flash of motion from above, the blur of black fabric and impact echoing off brick. Your attacker hit the ground hard, his weapon clattering away. A dark figure landed between you and the man with effortless precision, cape flicking out like a shadow come to life.

The thief groaned, scrambling backward—then froze. Because everyone in Gotham knows that silhouette.

The cowl. The armor. The glowing white eyes.

The Batman. The one all over metropolitan news stations.