#ic reply.

THE BAT wasn’t a big believer in fate. There was already too much in the universe out of their control to add one more thing to it. But it must be chance, purely off hand logistics, that lands him on the roof of MJ’s building with a scrape against his side and a bullet through his shoulder. 

If he’d landed in New Jersey, this would be easier. He knew every sewer line and every short cut that could lead him back to the manor and in Alfred’s tender loving care. But he’s stuck in Brooklyn and New York’s finest is already on their way with helicopters. 

Shit luck is what it is. 

Somehow, he maneuvers himself down the fire escape and through her window. Landing just on the floor beside her bed without even breaking a thing. A feat in itself he hoped she might appreciate before he’s pushing himself up to an opening door. His figure a dark silhouette against the window bathed in streetlights and the piercing glowing gaze from his lens the only outlier. 

     “ Do you have a first aid kit? “ 

   Sai would never cause trouble to instigate friendship. How dare you   

" Where are you going? " He asked softly, voice slightly hoarse and still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A small yawn and a stretch of his arms and he's quickly reaching for her wrist and her arm, trying to tug her back into bed with him.

Bruce reaches for the warmth of her beside him he fell asleep too. A spark of panic seizing the length of his spine before logic and sense joins coherency even through the haze of grogginess. Eyes peering through half open lids to trace the shape of her against the rising sun. Her silhouette forlorn even in the bright warm glow of the morning. 

He stirs slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and the weariness in his bones that had dragged along with age. Arms stretching on his way up and out of the bed to reach for his robe and not much else. Barely a cover against his frame and yet somehow just enough as he walked towards her. 

Sensing the gloom with each step closer, he touched her back tentatively. Watching her shoulders stir even before his hand make contacts with the skin of her spine. The tenderness of the view seemingly shattered by what he imagined was some heart ache he couldn’t see ─ a bruising he couldn’t fix ─ pain he just couldn’t take away. 

Even if he wanted to. 

“ Diana? “ He asked softly then, circling around to her side. Trying to get a good look at her and confirm his suspicions. “ What’s wrong? “

Who else, after all, if not him?

The Caped Crusader turned Dark Knight. And from Knight to God. 

Oh, how men fall…

His gaze flickers between nothing and everything. As if the history of every bloodshed and war cry that had rung from the pores of his sword is calling out to him and he forgets and he remembers all at the same time. He looks down, feeling the trembling, the piercing, the heat of rage bleeding from the tendrils of the handle. His grip only tightening, tampening it down. 

And the world quiets once more for there is no more war. There is only him. And from now on there is only dissent. Or him. 

And there is no plan they could come up with that he couldn’t predict. No fight he couldn’t win. No battle he couldn’t end. And it's with that certainty, he strides away from the shadows and into the light, expecting nothing more than dissent, nothing more than a temporary distraction, nothing more that could catch him off guard. But he should have known, should have anticipated, should have seen what was making the cowl - no, the helmet feel heavier on his head. 

He’s no longer sure if it’s him or it that pulls the blade over his shoulder. To aim it at her. Certain even without looking that its lined with the same spot he had buried it in her chest when he had said farewell to her and his heart the first time around. 

The second time should be no different, right?

Hn. As expressive as ever as one might get from the GREAT BAT after having tied up another group of low level gang members for the cops to find. And basing it on the absence of sirens disturbing the night, it won’t be a while until they’re found. 

He walks on over to where she was, the light of the batmobile straight at him ; piercing through it like it was a mist and hovering right in front of where she sat on his hood. 

Did you miss me, lover? Like @jewelstealr had to ask. But the answer remained tightly locked somewhere in his chest. 

Instead, he lets the cape drape over his frame, covering him in darkness like a blanket. His piercing gaze was the only thing focused on her. 

" I think your mom might kill me finally if you insist on trying to steal her invisible plane, baby girl. " He whispered to their daughter as he picked her up. A small smile still on his lips. A seemingly permanent affliction now whenever he gets home. Not that he is desperately looking for a cure any time soon.

She pouts as a way of trying to convince him to double back instead of turning about towards the direction of where he could already see a glimpse of Diana waiting for them. And he merely whispers when they're within earshot conspiratorially with Persephone, "Now I wouldn't tell if you don't."