“You did good. Getting in here. Guess Batman’s had a helluva time.”
“You see him?”
“No. Old friend told me.” He snorts. “Last time he got his boat blown out of the water.”
Mark laughs, sharp and mean.
“Shame he didn’t die.”
“You’d be out of a job,” the Knight says, voice teasing, and Mark rolls his eyes.
“I would not. I’d have a new, sane one lined up in a week.”
“Aw, you’d miss us,” Jimmy says in their ears. “Can you imagine being deprived of our gorgeous faces?”
“Last time I saw your gorgeous face, it had a black eye from you spinning too many times and falling out of your chair,” Mark says bluntly. Jimmy squawks amid the chorus of laughter. Look, if he didn’t wanna be called out, he wouldn’t keep doing that. It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.
The Knight sighs.
“I leave you for a week and you maim yourself. Christ.” They stop at the manhole. “Ages, would you–”
“On it, boss.” He bends down and hooks his fingers in, lifting up with a grunt. The sewers here smell wrong. Not like shit, not like they should, but like dead things. Rotten things.
