Just Breathe

Chapter 5

With one movement, Bruce caught George's left arm in a steel grip, and fired his grappling gun with his free hand. The moment the anchor bit into the concrete building, the two of them jerked to a stop.

"Ahhh!" Bruce cried, as pain seared through his right shoulder. George's added weight and the sudden deceleration had wrenched his shoulder from its socket. Gritting his teeth against the piercing agony, he lowered himself and the young boy to the street below.

He sliced through the zip-tie with one of the tactical knives embedded in his chest plate, and George used his freed hands to whip off his blindfold.

"Holy shit, you're Batman!" he exclaimed, staring up at Bruce in awe.

Bruce grunted in reply as he looked over the kid. His face was grimy with tears and he'd probably have a hell of a bruise from where Bruce had caught his arm...but he looked otherwise unharmed. "You okay, kid?" he checked.

He nodded, his face breaking out in a smile. "That was awesome! Wait till Sammy and the others here about this!"

"I though it was going to be our little secret?"

George's face fell. "Oh, yeah." His boyish enthusiasm melted away at the thought of what the Deacons would do to him if they found out.

Bruce saw his chance. He crouched down so he was at eye-level and tried to convince the kid to rethink his choices. "George do you really wanna be part of a gang that would do this to someone? They left you up there, knowing there was a strong chance you could die. They don't care about you."

George looked down. "No one does," he mumbled under his breath.

Bruce grappled with something to say in response, his heart aching for this poor, neglected boy. But just then, a police siren blared from the end of the street. The sound spooked George, who took off running.

Bruce watched him go, then disappeared back into the shadows of the alley as the patrol car passed him.

His shoulder throbbed.

Shit

His motorbike was stashed nearby, but there was no way he could ride it home with his arm hanging useless by his side. Alfred would have left for Capitol City already, so he couldn't come get him...

And taking a taxi dressed as a 6-foot-tall bat would not be the sanest idea.

There was only one option he could think of.

Or, at least, only one option he wanted to think of.

———

Beth took a sip of wine and checked the time on her watch. It was well past midnight and she should probably go to bed...but her book was just getting good. She nestled deeper into the couch and turned the next page.

But she was abruptly drawn out of the world of regency-era England when she caught sight of the large shadow passing by her window.

Someone was on her fire escape.

She slowly put down her book and grabbed the decorative vase from the coffee table - the nearest heavy object. Gripping the glass weapon firmly, she quietly approached the window.

The shadow shifted...

...and the moonlight overhead illuminated a tell-tale set of ears.

It was Batman.

She set the vase down and opened the window.

"There was movement this time, so this definitely constitutes 'sneaking'," she called out.