Silent Heroes - ONE
DC Fanfic
ONE - The What If Masterlist
The couch was too small for two grown people, but they made it work — legs tangled awkwardly, the TV flickering in the background with some low-budget reality show neither of them were really watching.
Stephanie shifted, grimacing as her arm bumped the sling strapped to her shoulder.
Across from her, sprawled half-off the other side of the couch like he didn’t have a spine, Oakly snorted, eyes flickering away from the TV towards her with a grin threatening to break across his face.
"You fell off a fire escape, Brown," he said, dry as hell. "A fire escape. That's like... Gotham 101. What are you even doing out there?"
Steph stuck her tongue out at him and adjusted the pillow jammed under her elbow.
"Slipped," she said defensively, rolling her eyes. "It was raining. It was wet. Shut up."
Oakly grinned, sharp and easy, and then went right back to rambling, his voice loose, casual, the way it only ever got when he was at home.
"Anyway," he continued, tipping his head back against the cushion, "Mio tried to crawl into the laundry chute again. Fourth time this month. Leila practically begged me to fish him out before the fire department got involved — 'cause last time they made her fill out incident reports and she’s convinced they’re gonna put her on some CPS watchlist."
Stephanie laughed under her breath.
"You get him out?"
Oakly shrugged lazily.
"Bribed him with Oreos and the promise of learning how to pick locks."
Steph choked.
Oakly just smirked — that slow, easy smirk that usually meant I'm kidding and I'm not at the same time.
Stephanie leaned her head back against the couch, listening to him talk — about Leila’s stress, about Mio’s latest attempt at breaking the sound barrier on his skateboard, about the old neighbor upstairs who kept trying to leave "offerings" at Oakly’s door because she was convinced he was some kind of guardian spirit.
The sling dug into her shoulder — dull and aching — but she barely noticed.
Because somewhere between Oakly’s deadpan stories and the hum of the broken heater, a thought sneaked up on her:
He could have been something else.
Not just museum tours and babysitting rescues.
Oakly had been good at it — scary good. Fast, brutal, smart. The kind of fighter you didn’t see coming until he was already in your blindspot.
If he’d stayed, if he’d let himself be pulled deeper — he could’ve been one of Gotham’s best.
But he hadn’t.
He was here. Half-asleep, hair messy, laughing about a ten-year-old stuck in a laundry chute.
And Steph couldn’t tell if it made her heart ache or feel lighter.
Maybe both.
Oakly reached over, plucked the remote out of her good hand.
"When's Cass coming? Did she get tired of your ass yet?"
"Bite me," she said automatically, tossing a popcorn kernel at his forehead.
He caught it mid-air, smirking.
For a moment — just a moment — it was easy to forget that there was a whole other world outside this apartment.
A world that ate people alive.
Note:
We're just jumping right into it guys - buckle up
