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———
Rain drops from the edge of the building, soaking his sweatshirt as he looks through his binoculars. The city smells worse than usual, the flooding bringing the putrid trash to the surface. Nothing to hide. Nowhere to go. The stench of his failures clinging to the air.
I will do better.
———
Sluggishly, sinister beeps, weave in and out of his confused dreams. Even in the liquid space of unconsciousness, he can feel his sore muscles.
“Bruce,” a voice pulls him from the darkness.
He fights to awaken, clawing away from the images of men in army jackets, women with Selena’s wicked smile. Blinking confusedly, he opens his eyes to see the starchy white of Alfred’s hospital room. The medical equipment’s beeps are less frightening now.
“Alfred,” his voice is a harsh rasp.
“When was the last time you slept in a bed?” Alfred queried softly, concern evident in his soft blue eyes.
“Don’t worry about me,” he leans forward to take his hand, trying not to wince as his back twinges painfully. “Just focus on getting better.”
Alfred looks at him, a tear dribbling from the corner of his eye. Bruce looks away, the love in his gaze is blinding.
I haven’t earned it.
———
The man beneath his fists is shouting in pain. With tremendous effort, Bruce stays his next blow, panting. The man is crying, covering his face in fear. Steadying his frantic breathing, Bruce straightens up, pulling the man with him.
He will take him to Gordon.
Trying not to stagger with exhaustion, he yanks the man down the street.
One criminal at a time.
———
He’s observing a drug deal when he sees her again. She’s slinking along the rooftop, footsteps light, but not light enough. His heart leaps.
Selena is back.
When he approaches her, he makes sure to not be noiseless, not wanting to frighten her. Quick as a flash, she rounds on him, fists raised before recognition flashes in her eyes.
“Vengeance?” She says playfully. “Well, did you miss me?”
He doesn’t reply to her question.
“We have work to do.”
———
The encounter is quick and efficient. They work well together. Bruce is tying up one of the Penguin’s goons, fingers slipping with fatigue.
“You okay, baby?” She’s standing over him, head cocked. “Been burning the candle at both ends?”
He finishes his knot and stands, trying with all his remaining strength not to show any weakness.
“Hey,” her voice is commanding. “Why don’t you come back to my place? I’ll fix you up.”
He doesn’t know what to do.
There is still so much left to do.
His traitorous body betrays him and he nods his ascent.
———
They are in Selena’s small dingy apartment, atmosphere tense. She’s standing close enough to smell the sweat clinging to his suit. Uncomfortably, he shifts his feet, meeting her gaze but not saying anything. He doesn’t feel like leaving, going home to a still empty penthouse.
“You look a little frustrated,” her smile isn’t sympathetic at all, voice so quiet he has to strain to listen. “Want some help with that?”
His mind races, brain scrambling, telling him to accept: he’s tired, he hasn’t touched a woman in years, he hasn’t jerked off in a long time. So many reasons to say yes.
But really, when it comes down to it, it’s pretty instinctive. Moving towards her, letting her strong fingers unbuckle his belt and tug his pants open. Letting her wrap her warm hand around him and start to stroke, an impish expression on her face as she licks into his mouth. He lasts an appallingly short amount of time, coming with an embarrassing whimper.
“I’m flattered,” she mouths against his hot cheek, barely above a whisper. “But it’s my turn now.”
She leads him by his limp dick over to her bed, pushing him down to his knees. Efficiently, she takes off her boots and throws them into a random corner, stripping off her leather pants and underwear quickly, eyes never leaving his.
“You know what to do, baby?” She asks, sitting down at the edge of the bed and spreading her legs. He nods, stupefied.
“Be a good boy, and I’ll let you fuck me next time. But you have to earn it,” Her voice is a soft hiss above his head, her hands gripping the points of his mask instead of his hair, tugging his mouth to her wet pussy.
———
At home that night in bed, he imagines she is tugging his hair as she breathes his name. His real name. He gets off again to the thought of the sound she made when he sucked her clit.
Laying hazily on his silken sheets, breathing raggedly, he feels better than he has in a long time. Gradually, unconsciousness pulls him under into a dreamless sleep.
———