The building groaned as flames tore through steel. Smoke filled the air, choking, blinding, every second louder than the last.

Batm@n stood at the edge of the crumbling floor, fists wrapped tight around a thin steel cable from the grappling hook. At the other end dangled the Hush — the one who set this place ablaze in the first place, almost killed both you and Nightwing and just stabbed Bruce, about to kill him if it weren’t for your arrival. His scream echoed as the cable frayed against the fire’s heat.

Batm@n growled, muscles straining. His boots dug into the ruined floor, cape whipping in the smoke as he tries to hold still on the broken bridge.

“Go!” He says, telling you to leave and go somewhere safe.

Behind him, you tried pulling his shoulder telling him to leave him, but he harshly shrugged you off, focused on not letting the man fall.

“Are you crazy?!” your voice broke, desperate. His jaw clenched. He didn’t answer. He wouldn’t. Seeing his feet giving in and slowly sliding down, the whole place about to explode…you had one thing to do.

“Screw it!” you shouted, and with one sharp tug, you ripped the burning cable free from his hands.

The villain’s scream cut off as he fell into the inferno below.

For a moment, there was only silence, Batm@n processing the man he just “let” die before his eyes. You grabbed his arm, pulling him only enough to snap him out of it and you both ran out before everything blew up. ────────────────── It’s been a week since all of that happened, a week which you two…didn’t really talk. You wanted to and even tried but after he shut you down the first time you let go.

The city was quiet tonight for once, no crazy villain attack nor crime scenes, at least not that he could see. Bruce stood at the edge of a rooftop, cape rippling in the night breeze, then you joined him, arriving just some seconds ago.

But he didn’t look at you.

“He didn’t have to die,” Bruce said at last, voice low, staring at the dark night.

“What?”

Silence stretched between you, heavy as the city below.

“He didn’t have to die.” He says, finally turning his head, eyes shadowed beneath the cowl. Not anger. Not blame. Just something you can’t even tell.