The bar wasn’t fancy. A quiet place tucked near the shore, half open to the ocean breeze. The lights were warm, the air thick with salt, and the sounds of waves breaking against the sand filled the empty spaces between the clinking of glasses and low conversation.

You sat alone at the edge of the counter, one hand wrapped around a sweating drink, the other resting idle in your lap. You hadn’t looked at your phone in days. Not that it mattered—there was no one left to call. Not after you changed your number. Not after you disappeared.

Just like he told you to.

You remembered the conversation vividly, though you tried not to think about it too often. His voice calm but cold in that practiced way—like it was the hardest thing in the world, and he couldn’t let it show.

“If the world ever finds out who I am, if it all falls apart—go there. Change your name, disappear. I’ll find you when it’s safe again. No messages, no contact. Just trust me.”

You had. And it broke something in you to do it.

So here you were. Miles away from Gotham. A new name. A small place. A bar with sand sticking to the floors and ocean breeze that smelled like freedom, but felt nothing like home.

You had been waiting for him to turn up. Eyes always looking around, hoping it was finally the time he found you.

You’ve always been scared the day would come. Batman’s identity leaked and all safety he was able to provide useless. It was a nightmare come true. The thing he was most passionate about gone. Batman’s work was done. It was only Bruce that was left in him.

You hadn’t seen his face in months. Not on news reports. Not in back channels. Not even whispered in rumors.

But then the door creaked open, and something in you just knew.

You didn’t turn. Not at first. You just sat still, eyes fixed on your drink. Heart hammering so hard you could feel it in your fingertips.

His shadow moved across the floor. And then—

“Is this seat taken?”

That voice. Rough. Tired. Familiar in a way that made your throat tighten instantly.

You turned your head, slowly.

There he was. A small smile. Tousled hair. A day’s worth of stubble. Dressed in something too casual for the man you once watched zip into body armor every night.

And looking at you like he’d finally found the only thing that mattered.