#wintershade

In his focused stare, you started to get a glimpse of an answer you’d been searching for. You’d contemplated the idea of him maybe having the same spark in him that you felt in you. On special occasions, his eyes softened into a tender gaze like you were something deeply treasured. 

But it would all flicker just as quick as it crossed his face. When you blinked, it’d be replaced by something much tenser, a forced calm. It was the Bruce everyone else expected. But you’d still miss what you once saw.

About as instinctually as he moved you behind him, you reached out to grasp his arm, not to trap him, but just in case you needed to get him out of the way. He wasn’t the only one that felt a protective instinct flare to life. You’d grown used to each other. You’d gotten into the habit, regardless of any underlying feelings, of looking out for each other. 

While Bruce had a knack for puzzles and twists, random connections with a tiny thread between them, you drew a larger thread, one that wove around a person’s past and future. It made you an easy choice for Bruce to seek out. 

Bruce needed you to see into people in a way he couldn’t. You needed him to find information where all you could see was randomness. You were both inquisitive minds and inquisitive minds needed springboards to feed off of. 

The detective and the shrink. 

It was a nice pairing. 

Unrest slithered through the room. You tried to control the absorption of turbulence into your blood. Fear had a habit of getting under your skin and freezing everything. It turned every bit of intelligence you had into dust. 

You refused to be made dull and dumb by an emotion.

You wove your armor, trying to stay here and now, stay grounded, and take in as much information as you could. Bruce would be calling you later, assuming you’d get out of this, to talk things over. You needed all the details you could get. 

The rough material of Bruce’s jacket gave you something to deflect fear’s advances. Your eyes trailed up to his, colored in worry and fighting for control. His gaze fell down from the balcony. He didn’t hide his perturbed look. It was like he was expecting something that didn’t happen.

Tire screeching and a revving engine warned you of what was coming. A car that really had no business being inside of a church. “Bruce.” 

He deftly slid his hand down into yours and squeezed, angling closer to you. His body stood taunt as he scanned the entrance.

You wanted to wait to see what happened, to be smart about what you focused on. Afterall, the car was the biggest danger to you, nevermind whoever Bruce was worried about on the balcony earlier. But you couldn’t help yourself from scanning for who might be in the path of damage. 

Then you saw that small, lost face on such a small, young frame. And that young frame was right in the way of your predicted path of the car coming in the building.

You instinctively stepped toward Bruce but were stopped as the car tore through the door. “The boy!” You called out as you moved toward his small frame. 

Bruce picked up on where you were going and let himself be jerked forward by your hand. Bruce’s thundering footfalls were only barely audible above the sound of the screeching tires. The car must have been closer than you thought. Chairs splintered behind you. 

All you needed was to get the boy out of the way before the tail of the car could deal more damage than just some broken chairs. 

Luckily, you did.

You just pulled the boy into your arms when Bruce’s body wrapped around to shield both of you, throwing the both of you to the side and out of the path of the oncoming vehicle. 

You made sure to cradle the child’s head from the impact of your bodies on the floor. Bruce grunted as his shoulder bumped against the hard flooring, his side absorbing most of the shock. 

Once you stopped moving, it took a moment for your heart to restart. The fear hadn’t stopped you from acting, from doing the right thing, but its effects were catching up with you. Your trembling hands were proof of that. 

Taking a breath, you looked down to see the child’s eyes. They were squeezed shut, but from uncomfortability or a similar fear you experienced, you weren’t sure. 

Only when you were positive the car had stopped and nothing else posed a threat, did you let the boy go. Bruce’s arms never moved, still circling your body. “You okay?” he breathed. 

You nodded, timidly looking up at him. His eyes did that soft thing again. A painful yet concerned twist pinched his eyes and a warmth unfurled in your stomach. 

A small relieved breath left his nose. He started to shift, making sure to keep his arms around you to help you stand. 

You were nearly against his chest when you got back on your feet. Bruce’s hands cupped your elbows, fingers tightening around your jacket’s sleeve and keeping you close. Your eyes flickered to his unusually direct gaze. 

Just when you were about to say something snarky to break the tension, you heard the shouts of the police. Turning, you watched a man step out of the car with a device you quickly deduced as a bomb attached to his neck. 

“Oh my God.” Your eyes widened. Another dose of fear shoot through your bones. 

You could die. 

The weight of it started to settle in your chest. It had crossed your mind earlier, but there was a person to save and something you could do to help yourself out of just standing in horror. You couldn’t do anything now. 

And all of these people. All of these innocent people. That boy in front of you could die before his life even began. 

You couldn’t stop staring at the bomb. 

Bruce stepped up behind you, replacing his hand on your arm. There was an urgency in the way he wrapped his fingers around your forearm, a worry in the way he started to pull you away from the man and the quickly filling police presence. “We need to leave.” 

The officers ordered for everyone to clear out and Bruce tucked you into his side, keeping you going when you couldn’t stop the dread from stealing your ability to think. 

He angled himself behind you, keeping his hands firmly around your arms, guiding you through the throng and to your car. He must have looked like a bodyguard or a concerned partner. He fished your keys from your jacket pocket, unlocked the door, and started your car for you. 

He gently pressed you into your seat and crouched beside the car while you shakily buckled your seatbelt. “Go home, get some rest, and I’ll call you in a bit.” He softly commanded. 

He didn’t leave much room for argument, not that you wanted to anyway. A part of you felt guilty for wanting to leave as much as you did. Another part reminded yourself of the necessity of needing to actually be alive to help people. 

You took a breath and placed your hands on the steering wheel. He hung his head in relief, spared you one last softly firm look, and braced himself on your car door to get up. He started to shut it before you reached out. You managed to stop yourself before you touched his hand. 

“Be safe.” You couldn’t keep the serious tone out of your words. 

You had this feeling about him. Something that made you think he was more than just a curious citizen. If you were wrong, oh well. If you were right, then there was a high probability he would be going back in there. 

He was willingly ready to put himself on fear’s doorstep and stare it in the face. If you’d locked up in there, you could only imagine what he was feeling inside. 

Bruce’s eyes locked with yours before he pressed his lips into a line and nodded. “Let me know when you get home.” 

You bobbed your head. He hesitated. “Go,” you tilted your head toward the building. Who were you to keep the fear guardian waiting?

He only made it one step before he paused. It was as if some force was holding him back. “Bruce, I'll be fine.”

He took a breath. The conflicted look on his face smoothed over into one of conviction. It was the push he needed. He let your door shut. 

You smiled in encouragement as you shifted into drive. From your rearview mirror, Bruce stayed still till your car started to become a speck, and then you watched him sprint back up the cathedral’s steps. 

…

“(Name), always good to see you.” Alfred’s pleasant voice rang through the hall as you stepped through the doorway. 

Bruce’s place was about as beautiful as the cathedral but in a more grounded way. The wood details always carried a feeling of sanctuary which you couldn’t get from marble. 

Marble was too pristine. Too white. Too smooth. But wood? Wood carried stories, hopes and imagination, and a sturdy feeling of nature’s support. It felt safer, more resistant to chaos. 

You slipped your boots off, your socks sliding against the wood flooring. “Thanks for letting me in on such short notice.” You smiled his way. 

He waved his hand in dismissal. “Master Wayne needs the company. Plus, it gives me an excuse to prepare a meal for someone who will actually eat it.”

You smirked down at your toes as Alfred passed by you, waving you along. Alfred always was better at entertaining guests than Bruce had ever managed to. But you knew Alfred liked serving people on a more personal level. 

It was what he loved. He loved loving and supporting others. In a way, that’s probably what drew you to him. 

“I’ll put the kettle on. I’m sure the funeral was a lot to process.” His voice carried a thread of sympathy that was more than required for condolences for a usual event. 

The car stunt must have made the news. 

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “It was something.” You murmured, looking at the papers on the counter. Peaking out behind a magazine was a paper marked over with silver sharpie. 

El Rata Alada. 

A rat with wings. 

Bruce was exactly who you thought he was. That means you’d be hearing about his activities soon enough. The jingle for the next breaking news segment rang over the tv. 

“What shall it be, green, English, or peppermint?” Alfred perkily hummed over his shoulder. 

You answered without ever looking away from the paper. “Peppermint.”

…

You’d fallen asleep on the couch in the library waiting for Bruce. It had given you some much needed time to rest and process all of the fear you felt. 

The helpless feeling in your bones wasn’t completely gone when you woke up, but it felt more like a memory and less like a current event. 

Another cup of tea sat on a tray in front of you. Alfred must have refilled it while you dozed off. A copy of Frankenstein rested on your chest. 

It was dark outside, the light from the city peeking in through the window. It felt like it wasn’t that long ago when you were standing right next to Bruce talking about the next mayor. Now, you were sitting here trying to put a puzzle back together that you could barely manage to understand. 

You sat up, eyes still on the skyline as you messed with your hair. The city comes alive at night in a way that you truly hadn’t understood before. But you got a taste of it today. You had a feeling that nighttime events were unnaturally spilling into daytime affairs. 

You yawned, stretched, and reached for your tea. It was cold now but felt good on your dry throat. 

You checked your watch. 11:45. Almost midnight. Way too late for someone coming from an early afternoon funeral. From what you gathered, he hadn’t even gotten back to the estate yet. 

You’d made sure to text Bruce before you fell asleep that you’d gotten home and then again to let him know you were already at the manor. 

Maybe he was out so long to avoid the inevitable Alfred scolding, but it didn’t matter. He’d have to come home eventually. Just like that little boy would have to come to terms with what happened, how what was supposed to be a space of grief and safety became plagued with terror. 

How he’ll never be able to get that back. That’s what distressed you the most. The lack of sacredness. The disturbance of honor. Even death couldn’t stop dread. 

You’d just gotten up to add a little milk into your tea and grab some more cookies when you heard footsteps down the hallway. 

They sounded too heavy. At least, too heavy for someone just a little tired. These sounded laborious, like walking was a chore. 

You placed your teacup down and backed up. 

Bruce. 

There were dark splotches around his eyes and he wore dark pants that looked almost military-like. His suit, well-fitted and cut, was completely gone. 

You padded over to him, half afraid he might fall over. 

You stood in front of him and waited, scanning over his body. He curled over his abs and favored one leg while he walked. This was not the stance of someone returning home from a funeral. This was someone in a brawl, and you’re not entirely sure he won the fight either.

But it only confirmed your supicisons. The message on the tv about a mysterious vigilante rumored to be at the cathedral when the man with the collar around his neck lost his life added to your conclusion.

“You’re here,” he had such a gentleness to his voice that your knees almost buckled. You covered your stumble with a smirk and then decided to be honest with your theories. 

“And you’re the Batman.” Bruce’s eyes widened. You wiggled your eyebrows. “Not hard to put together when you suddenly have information that only the police should know. The cipher on the table was a good indicator though.”

He chuckled. “Alfred.”

You bit your lip to hold back a laugh before padding closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. He stiffened underneath your touch. It only took one rise and fall of his chest before he melted, softening his stance and curling his arms around your waist. 

“I’m glad you’re safe.” You pressed your nose against his neck. It was brave, much braver or a move than saving the boy. It meant that you were willing to be honest, and honesty was a hot commodity in Gotham. 

But for Bruce? He deserved a little honest care in his life. 

You heard his smile. “I’m glad I don’t have to fake like I don’t know things anymore.”

You hummed and leaned back, rubbing some of his back eyeshadow off with your thumb. Your teasing smile turned serious once you saw the exhaustion in his eyes. “You should rest.”

You took a step back to make your way to an adjoining room. Sometimes, when you and Bruce were deep into a sleuthing session, you’d crash in a guest room for the night to be available for the next day. Plus, you already did something bold. You wanted to give him room to process. 

He didn’t let you take more than one step back before tightening his grasp around your waist. His tired eyes crinkled at the corners. “We both should.” 

You felt a jolt in your core. 

A shy blush crept up your cheeks, but you swallowed it and placed a hand on his arm. You squeezed his bicep and nodded. 

A sigh of contentment flowed out of his nose. Your smile grew wider. 

Slowly letting you go, he moved his hand into yours, guiding you into his room. He made sure you sat on the bed before he went into the bathroom and got changed.

You were given time to absorb the details of his room. It was dark, of course. His sheets were black, little personal items, but a small photo of his family sat tucked behind some sculpture of some sort. It felt like intentionally tucked it away but there was just enough to look at. 

He left some clothes for you on the counter and ushered you into the bathroom while he went for some more blankets. 

By the time you’d gotten done, he was finishing putting the blankets on the bed. 

“Bruce, your eyes.” Bruce slowed to a stop, pressing his fingers against his under eye. He chuckled when he saw black. 

“Thanks.” He smiled and came over to where you were standing, reaching for some makeup wipes. 

The way he scratched harshly against his eyes scared you half to death. He would eventually strip his skin raw. You quickly covered his fingers with yours. “Let me,” you pleaded. 

He drew the cloth back, eyes already red and bloodshot. He paused at your touch before he came back to himself, placing the wipe in your hands, fingers delicately brushing across yours. 

You were much gentler than he was, taking your time to carefully wipe all of the makeup away without ripping out his eyelashes in the process. You kept your thumb pressed against his cheek, angling his face where you needed to. It was hard to miss the soft sigh he hummed into your hand.

When you were satisfied, you lowered the cloth and threw it away. He had the most peaceful, warm look on his face. It made your heart melt. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, reaching out to pull you against his chest. 

You smiled and wrapped your arms around his torso. Pressing a kiss against his shirt, you drew back to start walking to bed. 

He followed behind you like an innocent puppy. When you laid down to sleep, instead of leaving space between you two, Bruce laid right next to you, curling into your warmth. 

He reached one arm across your waist to draw you in closer. His arm was strong and soothing. A intimate sense of security fluttered across your stomach. 

“You want to talk about what we saw?” You peered at his sleepy battle worn eyes. They drooped closed against his will and that made him all the more adorable. 

He hummed and moved to press his head against yours. “Tomorrow.”

You gave your agreement and let your eyes droop to a close. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against the pillow. And you knew the thank you was more than just letting him sleep. You knew it was for listening, hearing him when he told you to leave. 

It was also for staying when you could have gone. You didn’t have to go to sleep with him but you were willing to, wanted to. 

You embraced him when you could have feared who he was. But you faced him down and still saw Bruce, still saw his heart underneath that focused, calculating exterior. 

You looked across his sleepy face and smiled. He instinctively mirrored your delirious grin. “Sure thing, batboy.”

Slowly, he padded toward your bed. Your eyes tried to adjust to his face but they hurt from the lack of proper rest. You were sure your face betrayed it too. 

He perched against your bed, sitting so his frame swallowed up your view of your window. You almost missed the flash behind him, but the way the light caught his hair suspended you in a mix of awe and fear. Your flinch wasn’t as hard as before, but it still snapped your eyes closed. 

His fingers gently rested against your shoulder. “You should have said something.” He sighed, reaching out to smooth your hair away from your cheeks. 

You rested against his hand, holding onto its strength and the stability it offered. Its warmth burrowed into you and a part of you twisted out to coil around what it could savor for later. You knew his touch would appear in your dreams on dark nights and hopeful slumbers in the future. 

“Not really my thing, metal man.” You murmured, a small smirk curving into the palm of his hand. He chuckled, deep and rumbling. A thunder you loved to sound of. 

His fingers skimmed across your cheeks and rested near your throat, the dog tags you wore jangling in greeting at his touch. “These little trinkets rarely stop moving these nights.” He hummed. 

The dog tags were a gift, a way to commemorate the past you’d gotten away from. Erik gave them to you on a night similar to this. He’d teased you about how the tags loved to sing during storms, but you knew he became quickly aware of your fear of thunder and lightning. The “singing” of your tags clinking together became more agitated when night fell and a storm sounded outside your window. 

You rolled so your face angled up to his more easily. The pillows made room for the shift of your head. Erik’s eyes bore into yours, his gaze concerned and warm. An amused smile lifted his lips. 

Your heart rested to a contented lull. The rumble of the air outside sounded duller and less threatening. 

Reaching out, you grasped his hand and wove your smaller fingers through his larger ones. They felt safe. There was a calculated vigor in his bones. Something about them brought out a calmer side of you. 

You cradled his calloused digits near your heart, trying to absorb all of him. His quiet energy, his sarcastic tone, his assured curiosity. 

“Trapping me, huh?” Another warm, strong hand came to rest near your cheek. 

You smirked back at him. “You like it.” You hummed, voice strained and cracked. It softly scratched against the stillness. “You wouldn’t have gotten this close otherwise.”

You felt the bed dip with his sigh. Your answering smile lit up the room, the flash of light from the window glinting off your teeth. 

“Move over,” he whispered and you tried to restrain your urge to be as close to him as possible as quickly as could be attained. You were about to unlace your fingers but he squeezed them tighter, trapping your escape. “You think I’m letting you go? You’ve never reached out to me before. I’m not dropping this hand for as long as I can.” 

Your hand flashed before his lips before he pressed the warmest kiss you’ve felt onto the delicate skin on the back of it. His heat seeped into your bones, another piece of him to save for later. He wormed his way underneath the covers, still keeping a firm grasp of your fingers.

“You came to me,” you scratchily disagreed. He tugged you over until your joined hands rested near his heart, and he secured his free arm around your waist. He pressed you closely against his side; you couldn’t do anything but curl up against him. 

It felt nice, warm, safe like this. The edge of the blanket skimmed against your shoulder as he drew it over the two of you before returning his arm back around your waist. “You’re a free heater. It was a benefit.” 

“Hmmm,” you rumbled against the darkness. Your tired eyes dropped without command. Erik readjusted his grip on your hands. 

“Next time,” Erik’s words angled toward you. “Next time, come and find me.” Leaning down, you felt his abdomen tense as he pressed his lips against your forehead. “Please.”

Your stomach warmed at his use of a polite term. Erik wasn’t always a polite man. It was nice to know he wanted to be polite with you. 

“Only because you said please.” You nuzzled your head into his neck, breathing him in. You pressed your lips softly against the delicate skin, a thrill of delight rushing down your spine as he subtly tightened his hold on you in response. 

“I mean it.” You knew to read behind the slight tease in his tone. 

“My tags will give me away.” You readjusted, finding the perfect spot between his shoulder and chin. “They miss you already.” 

“Sweet dreams.” He murmured, close to sleep himself. 

You knew most of his body weight lay in his cybernetic parts. These components would start falling considerably faster than his human body.

Sucking in a deep breath of air, you plunged into the abyss. The cool of the ocean water froze your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms. If you didn’t find him fast, he could easily become hypothermic before he drowned.

You wished you could scream his name.

One of the creatures began streaking through the water towards a dark entity, undetectable by your eyes yet. After a few seconds of observation, it became clear that the target was exactly the person you were looking for. Victor. Redirecting your abilities, you propelled yourself through the water after the sea monster.

There were two latched onto his body, trying to drag him away. Your blood heated. I don’t think so. You didn’t hesitate before you threw out beams of energy, knocking the creatures away and clearing your path to Victor.

You grabbed onto his arms. It was easier to hold him up due to your energy abilities around to your feet; they acted as jets, keeping you afloat.

Upon inspection, you noticed a few things wrong.

His arm was throwing sparks into the surrounding water, he had a deeper gash on his cheek, and you noticed the light around his eye growing dimmer. You felt your heart sink at the extent of his injuries. You wish you’d gotten there sooner.

Wrapping your arms around his torso, you threw all the energy into your feet, jetting the both of you out of the water and into the air. It was harder to keep him steady in the air so you angled the both of you horizontal to the ground, with him resting on your torso, and flew back to base.

After a few minutes, you felt his head start to move, a pained groan leaving his lips. “Hang on, Vic. I got you.”

You wrapped your arms around him tighter, trying to keep him steady as you moved through the air. “(name)?” Your name sounded broken and quiet on his lips. An urgency built in your blood, giving you the last push you needed to get to the bat cave.

Setting him down gently, you let him collapse into your arms, your arm bracing his torso as his back buried against your chest. “Hey,” you cupped the side of his face, lightly tapping it, willing him into consciousness. “Hey!”

Your hope began to plummet. “Victor, please.”

He coughed and sputtered. “Hey,” he answered, voice gravelly and hoarse. “I’m still here.”

You pressed your forehead into his hair, breathing in the deepest breath you’d taken all day. You felt an answering pressure as he attempted to lean closer to you. You pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before you leaned back, starting to shift around to be able to get a better view of his injuries.

“Where is everybody?” He tried to shift to look around. Your firm hand persuaded him to hold still.

“We’re at the Batcave. You got hurt.” Gently cradling his head, you moved your legs from around his body and prodded him to sit. You didn’t move your hand from his back until he seemed to be able to do it on his own. “Do you remember what happened?”

He watched you feel around his shoulders, checking for any other injuries you might have missed. “I remember falling out of the sky. That was about it. I must have blacked out when I broke the surface.”

You leaned back on your heels and nodded. You didn’t see any additional issues. “Yeah. You’re not exactly the most buoyant.”

“Hey!” He glared with sarcastic annoyance. “You try being a big hunk of metal and then get back to me.”

There he is.

You snorted in response. “Well, you got a few things going on externally. Are you getting anything else on your sensors?”

His eyes glazed over, no doubt checking his diagnostics. His eyes brightened again. “Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Okay.” You took a breath, looking to the table with multiple tools around it. “We should get you fully inside. I can do repairs with what we have here.” You moved to put an arm around his torso before he stopped you.

“I can do it. They need you back out there.” He grabbed ahold of your hand, holding it so you couldn’t move it any further.

“Vic.” You crouched down to look him in the eyes. “I’m here for you and you alone. Besides, they’ll be alright without me. Diana can easily do my job and hers.” You moved to try to put his arms around him again, but he kept you where you are.

“The fate of those people may be at stake without you. I’ll be fine, (name).”

Softly, you pulled your hand out of his grasp and laid them against his face, near the cut, smoothing your thumb over the angry skin, turning it into healthy flesh. “Listen to me. I’m not leaving you.” He froze at this, the red of his cybernetic eye glowing stronger. “It’s you and me, remember?”

A small smile captured his face. He nodded then, eyes closing momentarily as he answered. “You and me.”

You smirked at him, putting your arm around his torso. “Now, let’s get you fixed up.”

…

A few hours later, you applied the finishing touches on his arm, using the smaller tools to fix minor issues. Victor guided you through the steps easily enough, but you both already worked especially well together.

“Got it,” you murmured, standing up straight, dropping the tool on the countertop.

His eyes were still closed when you walked around his torso, trying to gauge how he felt after the last thirty minutes of grueling work, forcing him to keep as still as possible.

“Vic?” Your voice is a hushed whisper against the darkness of the room, brushing over the silence softly.

His eyes slowly open, honing in on you, softening. “Hi.”

A small smirk coats your features. “Hi.”

He holds out a hand, waiting, open. You take it and allow him to draw you closer. His arms lock around your waist gently, holding without force. “Thank you.” He looks up at you and your breaths become slower and deeper.

You draw your arms up to rest on his shoulders, fingers lightly touching the back of his neck. “Always, Vic.”

You feel the way his arms tighten around you before your lips touch, gentle but with the promise of something much stronger behind it. When you draw back, Vic leans in again, more urgent this time, sliding his lips against yours with fervor.

Stopping to take a breath, you rest your forehead against his.

He won’t say the words, those three little words flung around like they’re nothing, but you can feel them. You feel them again when he presses his forehead against yours with a little more force, drawing you in further. You feel them again when his eyes flutter open with a softness in them that you don’t see anywhere else.

“I love you, too,” you smile, whispering against his lips.

That was a piece of life you shared. The difficulty of self-expression cleared those things up for you two. Share only what you’re comfortable with and no more.

It’s what made you good partners. Plenty of things were left unsaid when you were around each other. It was easy to guess and anticipate what he was thinking next. He was excellent at catching where your next move would be, excellent at anticipating your every thought.

You were a pair.

Always have been.

But this, this imprint on your neck, it seems to mean something more to him.

This thing, this mark of death, was a byproduct of what this job entails. You’re going to get hurt; that’s the point of this work. You do it so others don’t have to, but Victor seemed tenser than usual.

You could hear him sprinting through the chaos, footsteps sounding over your raucous coughs. “(name)!” He skidded to a stop, shooting a blast as another shadowy figure came hissing through the darkness. Diana’s lasso lit up the void, swinging it around enough to create a path out of here.

You had strayed out of the path long enough for one of the soldiers to get a hold of you. Victor’s hands were on your shoulders, steadying you, trying to pull you up.

The room swam.

“(name)?” His voice sounded worried, more worried than it usually did. “(name)? I need you to get up.”

Getting your legs to corporate was the first problem; the real issue was stopping Victor’s face from spinning. “I don’t know if I can.” It was the truest response you could give. It didn’t help the situation, but it was honest.

Tentatively, you reached an arm out to place it on his forearm, letting him stabilize you as you worked your vision back to normal. Seeing you were making little progress, Victor leaned in further, wrapping his arms around you to pull you fully off the ground, taking your hand in the process.

He stopped for a moment and turned around to look you in the eye. “Stay close and don’t let go.” You nodded as best as you could, a soft feeling spreading through your core at his protective instinct, at his willingness to keep you safe. It made you feel...good. It was a weird feeling for you.

You didn’t leave his side and he didn’t leave yours the rest of the day.

The team made it out alive and with minimal scratches and bumps. It was all you could hope for.

Later, the mark made its appearance, and with that a flurry of research and confinement for you.

You were just getting ready to put the cold towel back down into the sink and pull on your undershirt before there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” You called, pulling your shirt off the counter and moving to greet your guest with a tank top on. You had just gotten your arms through the sleeves when the door swung open. You stopped mid-motion.

Victor. “Hi.” You greeted him, pausing to see how he’d respond. He didn’t. “Everything alright?”

He seemed to come out of his stupor, shaking his head slightly. “I just came to check on you. See if you need anything.”

You smiled to yourself, putting on your shirt the rest of the way. “I’m doing fine. I appreciate you stopping by.” Adjusting your sleeves, you walked over to start pulling on your armor.

He followed you. “Wait,” you could feel his hand reaching out toward you.

You turned around, a smirk on your face. “You do know that some of us need to put on armor. We’re not lucky enough to automatically have it.”

Your smile drooped a little as he stepped closer, fully coming into your space. Words escaped you as his hand reached out to move the collar of your shirt backward. His touch was soft, a cool pressure against your neck.

A part of you wanted to turn away, but the comfort in his presence assuaged the desire. You were safe with him; there was no need to hide.

His face turned into a grimace, eyes taking on a sad twinge. “Does it hurt?”

You took a breath, closing your eyes and shaking your head lightly. You reached up to grab his hand, to stop him from dwelling on it. His posture told you everything you needed to know. He stressed about your mark more than you did.

“I still can’t feel it,” you sighed lightly. By the time you looked up, he was watching you with this soft look in your eye. He met your stare for a moment and then looked back at your mark. Your stomach flipped.

“I should have been there.” His gaze was still aimed at that black print against your skin.

You reached a hand up to gently tug his chin, readjusting his eyes to align with yours. “It was nobody’s fault. Even if you were, another would have come to take its place.”

“Still. We don’t even know what this will do to you.”

“I’ll be fine, Vic. We have bigger things to worry about.” You moved out of his reach to start to slip on your gloves.

When you looked back, his face was conflicted. This was another one of those times where he’d have a hard time expressing his feelings. “What’s wrong?”

“I—you,” he walked closer, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. Slowly, once he stopped moving, he reached his hand up to cup your cheek. “You...you are something I worry about.”

Your breathing stopped and all you saw in his eyes were pure warmth and adoration. He was telling the truth.

You placed a warm hand on his arm. “I worry about you too.” He smiled a little, a laugh almost escaping his lips. “We’ll keep each other safe.” You held onto his arm a little tighter. He nodded. “Now, as much as I love having you here, I need to put on this armor and it’s going to be a lot harder if you’re here watching me.”

He nodded, his thumb stroking your cheek, and your eyes fell shut for a brief moment. “Okay.” Letting his hand fall, he backed up. “Let us know when you’re ready.”

“I will.” You returned his grin, watching as he padded around to the door. Pulling on your gloves, you made your way over to your suit, ready to slip into the hard outer shell made of kevlar.

Only seconds went by before his voice rang out across the room.

“(name)?”

“Ye—” he pulled you in, pressing a searing kiss against your lips. His hand came up to steady your head, drawing you closer against him, catching your upper lip in his. Initially, it was firm, enough to bruise, but now, as you found your rhythm, it was smoother. It was a blend of delicacy and firmness you could only attribute to Victor.

After a moment, you both pulled away to catch your breath. “I just wanted to let you know how I felt. Just in case something happens.” He whispers the confession against your lips. You smile.

“You’re gonna have my back right?” You open your eyes to find him watching you.

He nods and leans in to press a kiss against your forehead. “Then nothing is going to happen.”

“Right.” He chuckles.

“I’m serious,” you grin. “You’re stuck with me for life.”

You nodded and placed a small kiss on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He paced ahead slowly and you let him slip out of your reach, walking towards the hammock you tied secured in between two trees. The straps could hold 500 pounds and the hammock could hold about the same, maybe a bit less. 

Either way, you doubted it was going to slip with how secure it was. But you wouldn’t tell bucky those odds. 

His fingers fidgeted with the material, attempting to hold onto the edge to keep the wind from blowing the hammock from under him. 

His eyes fixed you with a look, one of doubt and exasperation. You laughed and nodded for him to continue. 

Shifting his weight onto the hammock, he began to sink down in it, his arms flailing a moment to find something to hold on to and struggling when he couldn’t. 

You rushed over and grabbed his arms, steadying him with your weight. “It’s okay.” Your words were smooth and slightly teasing, enough to know his worry was for nothing, but enough to provide sympathy. “I was a little nervous my first time too, but it’ll hold.” 

His blue eyes swam to yours, flashing with a bit of fright. When he looked at you a little harder, his spasming stopped and his face morphed into a tumultuous calm. He nodded, his eyes hardening in determination and fixed resolve. 

There’s the Bucky you knew. 

His eyes dropped closed as he leaned further back, his mouth forming a small smile at the hammock’s strength. 

After he was comfortable enough to swing his legs over and into the hammock, you slowly let his arms go and positioned yourself near the edge of the hammock. 

His eyes flashed. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting with you,” you kicked your shoes off to avoid dirtying up the hammock. 

“Will it hold?”

You stopped and fixed him with a fake look of annoyance. “What are you trying to say, Bucky?”

He coughed and slowly lifted his hands up. “Nothing, just that the integrity of this...thing...may not hold up to the standard of us both sitting.”

You hit his bicep and urged him over. “Move, you whining puppy.”

“Woah, no need for the harsh words.”

You snickered and swung in, yelping a little at the way the hammock shifted for a minute before erupting in giggles. 

Bucky didn’t look amused. “Look what you did, you almost killed us.”

You turned your shining eyes to his and watched as his blue orbs softened. “Hi.” You whispered sweetly. His dramatic flair always calmed down when you took on that voice.

Slowly you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him close as you threw one leg over his. He returned the gesture. His arms wrapped around you, nuzzling his head on top of yours. His breathing slowed and you heard his voice rumble through his chest as he replied. “Hi, doll.”

“Is this better, darling?” You asked in a dated accent, smiling at what you almost knew for sure would be his answer. 

“It’s perfect.”

You felt him kiss your forehead gently. “Would you like to eventually do this again sometime?”

You felt him nod. “Yes, I think I would. But next time,” he pulled away to look down at you. “You’re getting in first.”

“And get crushed to death by the winter soldier? No, thanks.”

“Oh, so it’s fine if I die?”

“That’s kind of what it sounds like.”

“You’re impossible, doll.” You knew he rolled his eyes and felt his head shake against the crown of your hair.

Your lips curled into a smile. “You love me.”

He stopped for a second, looking down at you. His fingers smoothed some of the wisps of hair from out of your face, smiling with the innocence of a puppy. “I do,” his voice low and grumbling. 

you were paired together often from then on and when you weren’t paired, you’d request to be

in that space, he’d warm up enough to have actual conversations about life and work and all the up and downs of being a cyborg or being a human living a false life

and then the time came for Victor to ask you out

he’d prepped the lab with dark lighting and candles and waited for you to enter

you’d swung the door open without looking, babbling on about what an exhausting day decoding you had

You’d stopped once you saw the candles

He smiled at you shyly, the light from the flames making his eyes sparkle

You stopped and grinned. “Oh my God, Vic. Are you asking me out?”

He sputtered then, laughing at your boldness. 

“That was the idea”

and that was that

Established Relationship

so he’s a bit of a cuddler

he’s more cuddly than you really gave him credit for

he’s very gentle and tries to put a few layers of clothing between his metallic body and you so he doesn’t bruise or hurt you when he holds you

his arms are well covered when he holds you while you sleep

he likes having you near him

it makes him feel better

it works out well too because if you get too hot, you’ll just turn and press your forehead against the little bits of his metallic frame that peak out over his hoodies

your hand usually rests right the space where his new core lies when you sleep

you love his frame even if he doesn’t like it all the time

but it reminds you of him so it’s the best thing in the world

He likes to stand by you often

like, wherever you are in the room that’s where he is too

he’s not too into PDA

but he’s not opposed to a chaste cheek kiss or a lingering kiss on the forehead

he really likes it when you hold his arm when you walk out in public

also, he’s shocked sometimes when you have no problem going out with him

you’ll say things like “let’s run to the store” or “we should go out to eat, tonight.”

“are you sure?” he looks down self-consciously as he says it

you’d come up and press a soft kiss to his lips, placing your arms around his neck. “I adore you. yes, I’m sure”

You would usually try to sit somewhere quiet and secluded to alleviate his anxiety but a warm smile from you calms him down

You’d hold hands while waiting for your food, and crack jokes over your meals

victor is 100% the type to make breakfast in the morning

and to bring you flowers and gifts

like, you’d come home to little boxes or he’d come back to the tower while you were working

“hi” he’d greet you with a kiss

“hey, how’d it go at the lab?” your fingers were still flying over the keyboard as you finished up your own work

“as usual” you’d hear the crinkling of a bag and stop typing momentarily

“what’d you bring?”

“something for you”

and he’d whip out something cute and simple, a small pair of errands, that book you wanted, a mug you’d pointed out that one time at the store, something thoughtful and inherently you

Victor always say sweet things to you and just treats you with care

“you’re perfect” or “I’m really proud of you. I know how hard that was for you”

small little tokens of encouragement

you always encouraged him by leaving little notes around like “you got this” or “have a wonderful day at work. rooting for you!”

there’s so much love and encouragement between the two of you

and that’s why you work

it’s a bond of things unsaid

the little gifts, the way you gently touch and hold each other, the way you both make food for each other and leave little notes lying around

it’s the way you look at each other and never stop looking at each other

You tap your earpiece, gritting the words through your teeth as you huff your leg along. “Bruce, I cleared the building. Need evac.”

Nothing. Not good.

You ran through your options. Diana was away doing god things, Arthur was ruling a kingdom, you were positive that Barry had some sort of homework or projects to work on, and Bruce, well, who knows where Bruce is. You wouldn’t even get yourself started on Superman. You two hadn’t even been formally introduced yet.

That leaves Victor, and you never called Victor.

“Bruce.”

Static. 

You grunt in frustration and try to move faster, pressing a hand firmly against your side. The best thing right now would be to get to high ground and hide out for a good amount of time, but getting there might take some time. 

From the crimson staining your hands, it would probably be too much time. The trail of red would give you away.

Time for plan B.

“(name) to Batcave. Anyone there?”

“(name)?” It was Victor. Your heart jumped for a second. 

“Hi, I didn’t know you were still there.” You tried to stifle a grunt of pain as you started to climb a fire escape, the rain making it significantly harder.

You heard a little shuffling. “Just trying to test out an idea I had.” The line went quiet for a second. “I thought you were on a mission.”

“Still...am.” You hoisted yourself up another fire escape. A hiss that you couldn’t control escaped your lips.

There’s a frown in his tone when he speaks. “Where are you?”

“I’m not quite sure.”

“Where’s Bruce?”

“Hard to say.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be together?”

The fact that he knew made the pain in your side dull in favor of the new surprise that took over. Either everybody paid that much attention to you and the Bat’s movements or he was intentionally observant. 

Either way, it shocked you that he knew what was going on in your life.

“That was...the plan.” You hoisted yourself over another banister and collapsed against the side of the railing.  “Ran into a few issues.”

Quiet again.

“I’m trying to find you now.”

You nodded, knowing that he couldn’t see you. Letting your head fall back against the metal bars, the rain soaked your face in heavy splashes. Despite your pain, you were becoming increasingly tired.

“(name)?”

“Hmm?” It was a lazy response, but you didn’t have the energy for anything else.

“I approximated your location. Can you tell me what you can see?”

You twisted around, trying to ignore the burning, aching feeling in your side. “I think I can see Happy's House from here.”

“Okay.”

“Are you gonna send Bruce back around?”

“No, I haven’t been able to reach him.” Great. “I’ll be there soon. Can you get to the roof?”

By then, you would probably be drenched and borderline hypothermic, but if that’s what a rescue would take then that’s what’d you do.

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” More shuffling, this time a little faster, a little less organized and put together for the Victor you knew. “Be there soon.”

You weren’t really sure how that was possible but you nodded, holding onto the words as you began your journey up another five flights of stairs. “Thanks, Victor.”

“Keep your coms on in case I need to reach you.”

It took another ten minutes to get up those stairs, your strength leaving you as you fell onto the concrete of the roof, shaking and exhausted.

The pain didn’t matter now. 

The wetness of the ground pressed against your cheek, the roaring of the rain a steady presence in the darkness of night. Hopefully, Bruce made it out of whatever happened to deter him. 

You weren’t holding out any hope that Victor would get there in time before you slipped into unconsciousness, but maybe he would get there in time before your whole body shut down.

Closing your eyes, you let the water coat your face, you let your limbs fall limp, and you let go.

…

A light shined against your eyes, but dully you registered the warmth around you. It was a weird feeling.

Slowly, you opened your eyelids. Victor rested in the chair next to you and the light you felt pressing against your closed eyes was a fire in front of you. A machine beeped, an I.V. drip connected to your arm. 

“Victor?” You croaked and he jumped a little, sitting forward with less coordination than you were used to. “Where am I?”

“You’re okay.” He kept his hands folded in his hoodie you never saw him come out of, but he turned toward you more firmly. “You’re back at Wayne Manor. I found you on the rooftop.” He frowned and looked down. “You were unconscious by the time I got there, but I brought you back here.”

You felt a little guilty. You still hadn’t thanked him for coming to get you, but there was something pressing on your mind that you needed to know. “What about Bruce?”

“His coms got cut.” He looked at you from where his eyes were fixed on the floor. It startled you, triggering a slight fidget of your feet. You can’t remember the last time he looked at you so directly. “He got here about half an hour after I found you.”

You nodded, trying to relax. Cutting eye contact seemed to help, but not all the way, that dull spark in your vein still humming.

“Thank you.” You took a brave step and looked back over at him again. “Thank you for getting to me when you did.”

It was his turn to look away. He took a breath and leaned back in his seat. “I’m glad you called someone.”

“Well, I appreciate you answering.”

He frowned, smirking — a rare sight — a bit as he quizzically looked at you. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

“It’s not that,” you trailed off. But it kinda was. He never said much to you. “It’s just, we’re not really that close.”

He chuckled and his smile was beautiful. “Just because I don’t say much doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”

“Good to know.” You nodded and turned away to catch your breath for a moment. 

He cleared his throat. “I might like you a little more than you think.”

Your eyes flashed to his, a warmth stirring in your core, something igniting in a deep place in your soul. You smiled back as best as you could. “That’s good. Glad to know I’m not the only one.”

Chuckling, that smile of his reappeared. “Oh really?”

“Really.”

You closed your eyes then, drowsiness taking over. 

But you could still feel him there, right by your side, watching over you. It was silent and quiet, save for the crackling of the fire, but it felt comfortable and safe.

That’s what Victor’s silence was. A comforting force. A reassuring presence just gently tapping against you, letting you know that he was there, but never expecting anything from you.

...

He stayed with you, sitting right next to you through your recovery. And when the time came for readjustment into the field again, you worked next to Victor, not always talking, but always feeling seen and heard, even when he didn’t talk.

“Hey, (name). Come look at this.” There was a little more excitement in his tone than usual. 

“Sure.” You stood and walked over, still feeling stiff from your wound but mostly healed.

You hadn’t meant to do it; it just seemed to happen naturally. As you leaned over his scientific creation, your hand fell right on his shoulder, staying there as the reaction played out in front of you.

“That looks awesome, Victor!” You smiled and looked down at him in his chair. He had a grin that matched your own. 

“Yeah. It’s cool.” He reached up and placed a hand over yours, grasping it gently. It became clearer what you had done and your lips parted in your own haste and how long it took you to realize it.

Victor didn’t seem to mind as he raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. That jolt came back.

The embarrassed smirk on your face made him laugh. “You’re really cute when you get shy like that.”

“Stop it.” You bumped your hip against his back, forgetting it was partially made of metal. You bounced right off of it. “I’m taking my hand back now.”

“Oh, come on.” He tugged against you, keeping your hand right where it was. “I was just playing.”

Your death glare wasn’t very convincing. 

But you stayed like that for a while, just content in silence and in each other.