“It’s going to be okay. I’m getting you out of here.”

The first human words spoken to you.

So far, all you know of humans is maniacal laughter, steel beating over your body, and the cold of this cell. Not the best introduction to the mortal realm for an angel. Well–technically, ex-angel. You'd fallen to Earth and been found by the Joker. Then, several agony-filled days later, you'd been discovered by Dick. It was a miracle–if he hadn't chosen to take this route out of the warehouse, he would've never found you.

Dick’s eyes flit over your face, over the fear there, and soften. He reaches out a hand, stopping just short of actually coming in contact with you. Physical touch may not be the best option as of right now. You look at him as though he's just as bad as Joker, and his stomach contracts.

He bites his lip, clearly deliberating over something. The cell door is wide open, yet you don’t have much time to get out. Joker will undoubtably be back soon to play with his new toy–you.

“Can I carry you?" His voice is hushed but genuine. He tries, and fails, to produce a comforting smile. What happened to you?