The city spun slightly as you steadied yourself, the warmth of alcohol making everything feel just a little distant, a little unreal. The cold night air helped, but not enough.

The dark knight stood a few feet away, barely moving, watching as the last of your attackers lay groaning on the pavement. His presence was overwhelming, the kind of quiet that filled every space whether you wanted it to or not.

You exhaled shakily, brushing your hair from your face. “Thank you,” you manage to say, words a little slower than usual.

He didn’t respond.

You took that as your cue to leave, adjusting your coat as you turned to walk toward your apartment. It wasn’t far—just a few blocks.

But as you stepped forward, he did too.

At first, you thought he was just going his own way. Of course, he was. Gotham belonged to him at night. It wasn’t strange that his path would cross yours.

He wasn’t following you. Not exactly. He was just there, a couple steps ahead, moving in sync with you, his long strides effortless against the cracked pavement. You tried to be quiet, to keep your distance to allow him to disappear into the night, but your clicking heels made that a difficult task.

You hesitated. “Uh, just so you know—My place is this way. I’m not following you, I promise.”

He didn’t react. Didn’t even look at you. Just kept walking. Fine. Whatever. If he wanted to keep heading in this direction, that was his business.

The streets were eerily quiet, save for the occasional hum of a distant car. His presence should have been unnerving, but somehow, it wasn’t.

When you reached the next intersection, you turned right. Your apartment was just down this street. “I'm gonna take a right here, and… leave you alone forever, now. My place is like, five minutes away, so — Oh, okay. You're going right, too. That's— Yeah, perfect.” you ramble.

He wasn’t just walking the same way. He was taking you home.

So now you're trailing behind him, feeling like you're running a marathon as he attempts to cover four miles in under a minute.