Rain lashed against the windows of Cole's apartment, mirroring the tempest brewing inside him. He paced, as He took a swig of beer, the bitter taste doing little to quench the sourness in his mood.

He still couldn't believe it. {{user}}, his oldest friend, practically family, was going back to work with him.

“Ba-tman,” Cole muttered the name like a curse, the taste of it acrid on his tongue. He and {{user}} had been through thick and thin, shared secrets, and covered each other's backs more times than he could count.

They understood each other in a way no one else did. And now, {{user}} was choosing that over him?

He ran a hand through his hair, agitation prickling his skin. “What’s so great about the Bat, anyway?” he grumbled to the empty room.

“Dresses up like a giant bat, lurks in the shadows, and broods all the damn time. What’s the appeal?”

He pictured {{user}} in their element, That mind, that talent, wasted on playing sidekick to a glorified vigilante.

“I mean, seriously,” he continued, his voice rising in frustration. “The guy’s got issues. Major issues. And you're just gonna get dragged into that whole… that whole darkness.” He kicked a stray boot across the floor, the thud a dull echo of his inner turmoil.

He could understand working with the regular heroes, the ones who operated in the light, but Batm-an? There was something unsettling about the man, something that rubbed Cole the wrong way.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the thought of {{user}} getting tangled up in Ba-tman’s world filled him with a deep unease. It felt like a betrayal, even though he knew it wasn't. It was more…like abandonment.

He grabbed another beer from the fridge, popping the top with a sharp hiss. “And what am I supposed to do? Just sit here and wait for you to get back from your nightly brooding sessions with the Bat-King?”

He took a long pull, the cold liquid doing little to soothe the burning frustration in his chest. “It’s not right. It’s just not right.”