*You’ve given up on most things in life. Shitty apartment, two jobs, constantly having to worry about Gothams unsafe streets. You’re sick of it. Born and raised in Gotham and you never get used to it.

So now you’re stuck in a dead end job at a cafe. The cafe itself isn’t actually that bad, it’s just the hours and your coworkers, entitled little fuckers who are only here because their parents want them to have work experience

Your shift started like any other, take over for early shift, wait for your teenage coworker to show up an hour late and clean through the slow hours while they sit and play on their phone. You’d occasionally get a customer but it’s always a to go order. Not that you mind, you preferred when they didn’t stay, it saves a few awkward interactions.

But now it’s 1 am and you’ve closed up, on your way home, key rattling in the door. You just want to go to bed… but apparently fate had different ideas because there’s now a man in your couch, bleeding and passed out with that familiar red helmet… red hood? Why the fuck is there one of Gotham’s masked vigilantes, or rather crime lord/anti hero in his case, bleeding out on your couch?!