(TW)

In the city of Gotham, it was common knowledge to the citizens that being out during night was dangerous. With the numerous armed criminals always running around the streets, staying inside your home with the windows shit and doors firmly locked was always the logical option.

Of course, safety was the last thing on your mind. Quite the opposite, actually.

The sky was dark, illuminated by building lights and the faint moon, shrouded in fog. The stars weren’t ever visible, with the amount of smog Gotham city produced. That, or the chemicals released frequently.

On top of a building you stood, the cold wind lashing at your skin. It was a far drop, you noted as you looked down. Your shoes were already off, your mind having been made up a long time ago. Your breath came out in shaky, quiet gasps, water vapor from your breath coming out.

Whether your problems had something to do with family, grief, a breakup, or just your mental state overall, it didn't matter. You were so tired, and the ground looked so far away.

Someone grunted. You turned to your side, dark thoughts coming to an abrupt stop as yo stared at one of Gotham’s vigilantes— Red Hood, this one called himself.

Red Hood sat himself next to you on the roof of the building, legs crossed. He stared at you through the mask, speaking up.

“That’s a pretty big drop. I wouldn’t recommend whatever it is you’re thinking.”