He leaned against the brick wall, one foot kicked against the wall, as she ran down the list of things she thought he should do. He let her talk, let her finish.
“That’s the thing, Batsie. I’m a bat, just not his bat.”
He unzipped his worn brown leather jacket, revealing the upper half of his black armor. The stylized bat he’d put there as a last minute decision was muted, bloodred. His voice was low as he responded to her.
"I’m not a sign of hope, some urban legend to frighten the weak. I’m a warning, a sign of what will happen to evil.”
Zipping the leather back up, he shook his head, slowly.
"I’ll only go to him if I’m desperate. But you? You’re different. You’re independent. Headstrong. Doesn’t seem like you take much shit from anyone above you. I respect that."
Pulling out a basic prepaid phone, he tossed it to her, watching it sail through the air.
"There’s only one number in it. Anytime you want some help, call it. I’ll show up.”
Stepping forward, he brushed past her, hand lingering just a second on her hip as he strode by. Turning his head back, he nearly whispered, letting the words float behind him.
“Thanks for the assist, Batsie. See you around.”
Barbara sneered, hint of a smile playing at her lips as she shook her head. “You only think you aren’t a symbol of hope. I’m sure that girl in there would argue differently.” Snatching the phone midair, she gave it a once over before tucking it into her belt. No acknowledgement beyond a quick nod of her head was made. As much as her mind was telling her it was a bad idea, you didn’t discard allies. Truthfully, if their last meeting was any proof, she needed all the assistance she could get.
His hand swept against her, and she swallowed back a lump, her beating heart pushing against her ribs. She stared at him for longer than was comfortable, her posture stiff. Barbara didn’t respond to his farewell, the words too twisted in her mouth. As soon as he was out of sight, she turned toward the wall and slammed her fist against the brick. Wincing, she walked back into the clinic, rubbing her swelling knuckles.
One day her temperament would get the better of her. Until then she would continue making stupid, impulsive mistakes.
Barbara sat with the young woman as she came out of the recovery unit, holding her hand and reading from the outdated magazine pile. Tonight had been a bruise to her ego, especially since it was clear the girl would have preferred it if Hood had stayed instead of her. She took it in stride, though, too exhausted to care.
It was well past dawn when Barbara made her way home, tired, worn eyes barely able to stay open. Her normally busy mind was finally quiet enough to allow her rest, no matter how fleeting it would be.
[COMPLETED]
and all of this will never be the same again 