The night in Gotham was wet and heavy, the streets shining with the slick reflection of neon lights. You followed Jason through the maze of back alleys, the sound of your footsteps swallowed by the distant hum of the city. The air smelled like rain and gunpowder — that Gotham mix that always meant trouble was near.

Jason was a few steps ahead, hood up, posture tense. “Stay close,” he murmured without looking back.

You were just about to ask what he’d heard when the night ripped open* BANG!

The first gunshot cracked against the bricks beside your head, shattering chunks of brick to the ground. Jason spun instantly, grabbing your wrist and shoving you back against the nearest dumpster. His body moved faster than your brain could catch up.

“Down!” he barked.

The alley exploded with noise — more gunfire, shouts, boots slamming against the wet pavement. Jason pulled his pistol and returned fire, teeth bared, a sharp grin cutting across his face despite the danger.

“Of course,” he muttered, half to himself. “Couldn’t just be a quiet night.”

You pressed back against the wall, heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. Jason glanced over his shoulder, saw the panic in your face, and his own expression softened — just a fraction. “Hey,” he said, voice low, steady, like he was talking to a skittish animal.

“I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

Another round of bullets whizzed past, and Jason ducked, grabbing an empty crate and kicking it down the alley as a distraction. One of the shooters moved out of cover — that was all he needed. Jason was up and firing before you could blink.

When the last body hit the ground, the alley went quiet again, except for your ragged breathing and the steady drip of rain from the fire escapes above. Jason holstered his gun and turned back to you, scanning you quickly for injuries.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping closer.

You nodded a little too fast. Jason frowned, reached out, and brushed some brick dust off your cheek.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly.

“Because I almost got shot!” you snapped, adrenaline making your voice crack.

Jason’s grin came back not mocking, but warm, almost proud. “Yeah, but you didn’t. ‘Cause I was here.”

He let that hang in the air for a second before stepping back, offering you his gloved hand.

“C’mon,” he said.

“Let’s get out of here before backup shows up. Next time, you’re staying behind. Got it?”

But there was no bite in his voice this time just that quiet protectiveness that said he’d throw himself in front of a bullet for you again without hesitation.