Atlas

Big Bad Bat

Batman stood over Tyler, his cape dragging along the floor as he turned to face me.

With a shadowed face he beckoned, raising his gloved hand for me. I obeyed, tucking the gun back into the holster.

"I'm sorry."

The words fell from my lips without permission, and I waited with bated breath for him to respond.

He didn't.

Feet pounded down the hall, guards just outside the door. The two other women had already fled with screams ripping from their throats.

I took his hand, glass crunching under my flats as Batman led me to Tyler's desk. He picked up the kryptonite and tucked it into the satchel against his hip. The silence continued, panic rising within me the longer it stretched.

"Please, say something," I begged, gripping his cape with my free hand.

His fingers squeezed around mine, once, twice, a promise.

The door burst open just as Batman pulled me against his chest, tucking me close like a fragile doll.

I could hear the men screaming, guns firing after us as Batman ran straight through the broken window. 

A scream crawled up my throat but I swallowed it back, hiding my face within his shoulder.

For that split second, the wind drummed into my ears, that weightless feeling curling within my gut.

Within seconds our feet hit solid ground, but I wasn't ready to let go. Batman kept his arm tight around my waist as if he knew, and I managed to bring myself to look up.

I watched as his lips pulled down into an angry frown, his furrowed eyebrows molding the whites of the mask into a scowl.

The grappling hook shot towards us, furling back into the gun. Batman re-holstered it to his belt, watching the building for a moment.

When no bullets rained down, he finally snapped his attention to me, frown growing until it was almost a snarl.

The arm around my waist squeezed once before it unfurled, his other hand coming up to wrap my wrist, fingers digging into the delicate skin. 

With a growl, Batman spun on his heel and barreled forward, the fixed-up batmobile waiting innocently beside the curb.

Biting my lip, I debated saying something or not, Batman's shoulders were tense and the grip on my wrist was firm enough to declare his ire.

When we reached the car, he ripped the door open before shoving me inside.

Huffing, I fell into the front seat like a rag doll, completely at his mercy.

Slamming the door shut, Batman stomped around the car to throw himself into the driver's seat.

His movements were jerky and rough, snatching the gear stick and shifting it into drive.

Plucking the earpiece out, I tucked it into the pocket of my dress.

"Well, this is lovely." Catwoman's voice danced to the front of the car.

I whipped around to see her crossed arms and smirking lips.

Something in her expression unsettled me. It was almost as if she was sad as she watched Batman drive. 

"You'll never ask (Y/N) for help again," Batman growled, speeding up. 

"I don't see the difference when you take her out on the town."