kyle rayner x batsis!reader, batfam x bat!sis
summary: lantern duty comes to a halt when kyle gets called to gotham to help save you, his girlfriend.
warnings: violence, blood, wound describing, language. its mad angst. scarecrow. bruce and kyle lowk butt heads.
a/n: this fic is just about 5k words! enjoy the ride cuz i LOOVED it. also yay first kyle fic. i love my lantern bae <3
Patrol was only supposed to take 4 hours. Prance around Gotham like any other night, fight a couple goons, save a cat from a tree. Simple. Your type of crime fighting. Now it's 8 hours later and you’re now tied to a beam, beaten and disoriented. Your weapons and all Wayne-tech smashed to bits with little to no chance of recovering or even locating.
You started to stir at the scent of some ungodly toxin. Your eyes scan the area revealing the dark and humid warehouse holding you captive.
“Crane.” You mutter, realizing that Scarecrow is your captor. The last thing you remember was monitoring the alley near the bagel shop, then smelling what you thought was copious amounts of molded pastries before passing out. You whip your head around to see any proof of him and scream out his name.
You get no response. Your body slumps against the pole. You feel a presence sneak up behind you.
“Miss Wayne, it is a pleasure to have you visiting tonight”
You spit in his face and attempt to kick him, he counters by angrily placing a contaminated oxygen mask up to your face. His newest form of fear toxin enters your system once more and your heart races.
“Miss Wayne, you truly should have known better than to do that. Where has your civility gone?” You could feel the venom in his voice.
He walks away, leaving you in the shadows once more. Anxiety creeps through your brain.
Meanwhile, back in the Batcave, Bruce and Dick scatter across all of the computers.
“Where was her last location on the comm?” Bruce asks with uncertainty.
“Says at O’Neills Bagel’s. But that makes no sense, she couldn't have just disappeared from there. What did Tim say?” Dick huffs out equally worried.
“He said the scans found nothing, nor did he himself. The tech never fails. What are we missing here?”
“I don’t know, if we can’t find her, who the hell can? It’s not like she just up and left, she wouldn’t have done that without telling anyone for a good reason”
They both sit in silence for a moment. Bruce clicks some more on the computer in hopes of a new development, something, anything. He calls Oracle to check in with her scans.
You anxiously look around you, feeling like there is a hoard of people watching you. You look down at your hands and are stunned, the previous cuts you had earlier now worse, much worse. The bone of your hand peers out and drips blood onto the floor. A gasp escapes your lips. You look away. In reality, your hand is completely fine, aside from a little bruise. But you don’t know that. Crane’s toxins are messing with every bit of you.
The sound of Kyle’s voice forces you to look back over. He reaches for your hand and pulls it up to his face, giving it a kiss. You see that the wound you once had has now vanished. You look up at the green mask in front of you.
“Ky?” You smile with relief. You believe that he has come to save you, help you get out of Scarecrow’s grasp. Yet again, your brain fools you. Kyle chuckles in disbelief.
“Did you think I came here for you?”
You look at him with a questionable gaze. Unsure of what he is getting at. Your eyes peer over at his power ring which is now under his influence, in the middle of constructing something. In front of you is a bright green mirror. The second you glance into it, it cracks. Your head snaps back to Kyle.
“Ky, what are you doing? Untie me, please!” You beg. He laughs once more.
“Look at you, you truly think I’m your saviour? Just because “I love you?” You're such a dreamer, you believe that love can save you from fear?” He mocks. He gestures over to the mirror still in front of you, He looks at it as well, seeing your terrified expression. With a snap of his fingers, the mirror completely shatters into pieces, staying afloat in the air. He takes a step back.
“Kyle, please,” You say in a near whisper, your skin crawling at his sinister expression. He mocks you once more before speaking up.
“Haven’t you learned? Love can’t save you, it won't save you. Certainly not from this.” He takes a step back from you and the green construct vanishes.
“Please, Kyle. I love you! Help me!” You scream out. In a flash he is now knelt before you, a “J” carved into the side of his face. For a split second, you thought you were reliving the horror that was your brother Jason's death, but this was worse. It was Kyle. In Jason’s former place was Kyle, behind him the Joker, holding a bloodied crowbar. You screamed out and Kyle smirked up at you. You squeeze your eyes shut as the crowbar swung out of the Joker’s hands, you braced but nothing ever came for you. You open your eyes again and Kyle is gone. Your heart feels as if it is going to jump out of our chest. You have no idea what is happening, you’re petrified.
Tim had come back from the bagel shop to meet up with Bruce and Dick. Barbra is currently displayed on the computer screen, a video chat.
“I’ve searched through every possible GCPD camera, Bruce. I can’t see anything. This is crazy, who would even do this? Have there been any recent Arkham breakouts?”
“Not that I am aware of” He grunts out. He holds a hand up to his temple. Tim speaks up.
“Could we hold a JL meeting? I’m sure someone could do something, anyone really. Clark might-”
Bruce cuts him off. “No.”
“C’mon, it's worth a shot.”
“I’m not holding a meeting. This is an us matter. They do not need to be involved.”
All of his sons sigh in near unison, they aren't surprised that Bruce would act this way. He likes things done his way. Not one for a team up per usual, even if it comes to the disappearance of his own daughter.
“I’m calling the GL at least. Kyle deserves to know” Dick declares. He disagrees with Bruce, he believes that any help is good. Especially if it’s from your boyfriend. He walks away from everyone else and picks up his phone. He calls Kyle.
Driving through space in his constructed glowing green Chevy Impala, he chats with Guy.
“Dude you constructed a hammer when you needed a screw driver. Who the hell let you speak the oath?” Kyle chuckles.
“Laugh it up, Rayner. It did the job anyways, I-” Guy is cut off by a ringing. He speaks up again.
“You carry your phone in your suit? You don’t even have pockets?”
Kyle rolls his eyes and picks up. “Hello?”
“Kyle, hey” There is hesitancy in Dick’s voice.
“Dick? Hey man. You alright?”
The green vehicle comes to a halt. The coffee Guy was sipping spills all over him.
“We don’t know. She was on patrol then completely vanished, I take it she's not with you?”
“No, not at all. Didn't even call me. Are you sure she’s not just home?” Kyle’s knuckles whiten around the steering wheel.
“It’s been 8 hours, we have no idea where she is. No cameras caught her, all of her tech we guess got demolished. She was last seen in a dead zone of ours, go figure. We’re sure she's gone.” They both are silent for a moment, nothing is heard other than static between the lines. Kyle swallows.
“I know,” Dick says. “We checked. We’re still checking. But if she’s not with you…”
“She's not.” His jaw tightens.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” Guy eavesdrops and places a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Rayner,” he says quietly. Kyle ignores him and continues to talk to Dick.
“I’m coming back,” Kyle says. “I’ll be in Gotham in five. Maybe less.”
“Okay, I told Bruce you deserve to be here for this, but just so you know. He’s not too happy about it.”
Kyle shakes his head. “Figures, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up the phone and glances over at Guy.
“Tell Hal I’ll brief the Corps later. Right now I’ve got something more important.”
Guy raises an eyebrow but nods, “Kick some ass, Rayner. Good luck dealin’ with all your crazy bat in-laws”
Kyle doesn’t answer. He's already gone, streaking through space like a green comet.
Now at the Batcave, the air shifts. There’s a faint hum, and then a blinding green light pulses into the center of the cave. Dick barely turns before Kyle storms in like a bullet, the light fading into the angular armor of his uniform.
He doesn’t even glance at Bruce, who stands silently behind the monitors.
“Kyle,” Dick greets, stepping forward quickly. “That was fast.”
Kyle nods. “Where’s the last location?”
Tim gestures to the holographic map, flipping through panels. “Right here, every camera glitched out for a three-minute window, just after she went silent. It’s looks purposeful”
Kyle’s fists clench. “What about her comms?”
“Crushed,” Tim says. “We picked up what was left of it, looks like someone stomped on it”
“So then what’s the theory?” Kyle asks. “Who’s behind it?”
“Unknown,” Tim says. “But we have this.”
He throws up a paused frame from a corrupted GCPD feed. A distorted figure in the distance—tattered coat, gas mask, silhouette barely visible through the smoke.
Kyle’s eyes narrow. “That’s Crane.”
Barbra’s voice filters through the comm. “I cross-referenced it with his old fear gas dispersal models. That location has every classic signature of Scarecrow”
The lantern ring on his finger pulses, responding to his sudden spike of fear and rage. The tension in the room rises as he turns toward Bruce. “You should’ve called me the second she was missing.”
Bruce finally stands, slowly facing Kyle. “We had to confirm it wasn’t a miscommunication first.”
“She’s been gone eight hours! Are you kidding me? Miscommunication? She could be dead for all we know! Or worse, hooked up on a fear toxin that’s making her feel like she's dying!”
“She’s not just your responsibility,” Bruce says flatly. “She’s mine, too.”
The words hit like stone.
Kyle steps forward, chest rising and falling with barely restrained emotion. “Then fucking act like it.”
For a moment, no one speaks. The cave feels colder, tension still at an all time high. Barbra’s voice comes through the monitor, still on the call.
“I hate to break up the standoff, but I don’t think she’s dead. If she was, Crane would’ve made sure we knew. He’s theatrical. This feels... personal.”
Kyle looks up at the screen again, at the blurry image of the gas-masked silhouette.
“If he’s using fear gas... then he’s already in her head.”
“And that’s what he wants,” Dick adds. “She’s isolated. No backup. Nothing grounding her to reality.”
Tim clicks to another onto another screen that displays a city layout, showing underground networks.
“There are old sewer systems down here. Abandoned tunnels from Arkham’s first expansion. Crane could be using them. It’s a perfect place to set up one of his twisted fear drug labs. She's gotta be down there somewhere.”
Kyle stares blankly at the map as Barbra speaks up again, a slight crackle in her words over the video call.
“But whatever happened, it was fast. No sign of struggle, which means she either froze... or he got into her head before she could react.”
Kyle’s jaw tenses once more, Bruce sighs out in reaction. Both of them look up at the map trying to figure out the route in.
“She didn’t freeze,” he mutters, almost to himself. “She doesn’t freeze.”
Dick hears it. “No. She doesn’t. Which means Crane had her before she even realized it.”
Kyle takes a shaky breath and flexes his hand, the glow of his ring intensifying. “How deep do the tunnels go?” he asks.
“Very,” Tim answers. “Some haven’t been mapped in years. Old Arkham foundation blueprints are incomplete. We’re trying to get other scans now, but they’re distorted.”
Barbra leans forward on her monitor feed. “Kyle, listen. If she’s been exposed this long, she’s not just hallucinating. She’s trapped in a recursive fear state. It’s not just illusions anymore—it’s memory, it’s guilt, it’s grief. It becomes real to her.”
Tim blinks. “Wait, you mean psychically?”
“I’ve done it before. The ring can build a neural-link construct. If Crane’s using fear gas to keep her locked in a hallucination, I can find her inside it.”
“That’s risky,” Barbara says. “You could get trapped too.”
Kyle doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m not leaving her alone in that nightmare. Not for one more second.”
“No.” Bruce’s voice is dark, it cuts into Kyle.
“I’m not asking for permission. I’m going to do something since you won’t.”
“I’m not letting her drown in that darkness. I’m going down there. I’ll find her and if I find Crane, I’ll drag him out by the neck.”
Bruce stands up and towers over Kyle. His expression is protective, yet fearful. A pang of guilt underneath his cowl.
“She’s not your only responsibility,” Bruce says, “You think this is personal? It’s personal for all of us.”
Kyle steps forward, chest rising and falling with barely-restrained fury. “Don’t you dare act like I’m overreacting. You didn’t even tell me she was missing until now. You sat here for hours. Running data, playing detective while she was alone in that hell.”
Bruce’s voice stays even. “We handle things by process, not emotion. If you let this spiral-”
“You think I give a damn about the process right now?!”
The words slam into the cave like thunder. Dick flinches slightly. Tim stops mid-scan. Barbra goes silent on the line.
Bruce’s eyes narrow. “We don’t react emotionally. That gets people killed.”
Kyle barks out a bitter laugh, the glow from his ring pulsing hotter. “She’s gone, Bruce. She was out there alone. And instead of calling me, the one person who could’ve tracked her across the damn galaxy, you decided to keep it in-house?! You thought your pride was more important than her life?!”
“We needed confirmation. We weren’t sure,”
“Screw confirmation!” Kyle roars, stepping closer. “You didn’t want help. That’s the truth. You never do. Because if someone else steps in, it means someone else gets to fix it. You’d rather risk her life than admit you couldn’t stop it.”
Bruce’s eyes narrow. “Watch it.”
Barbara breaks their tension by pointing out the obvious; “We’re running out of time, you both need to stop and look at the matter at hand. This isn't helping anyone, certainly not her.”
But Kyle doesn’t stop. He doesn’t look away, he believes that this is fighting for your will. He takes another step forward, squaring off against Bruce, the green glow of his ring clashing with the cold blue of the Batcave lights.
“No,” Kyle growls. “Let’s talk about it. You always act like you’re the only one allowed to care. Like you’ve got the monopoly on grief. But you don’t. You just bury it. You bury it and move on. Until someone else pays the price.”
Bruce stares him down. “That’s enough.”
“No,” Kyle snarls, “it’s not.”
“She trusted you. And you waited. Sat in this goddamn cave with your files and your protocols while she was dragged into hell.”
Bruce's jaw tightens, but he doesn't flinch. “My family matters are not yours to worry about.”
“Don’t pull the family card. Whether you like or not Bruce, I’m considered your family too, so don’t even try.”
Bruce’s eyes harden. “You’re not family. This is not your team. You weren’t trained for this.”
The moment the words leave his mouth, the room shifts. Everyone freezes once more. The glow of Kyle’s ring dims in hurt. Then in a second flares alive with fury.
“Oh,” Kyle says, voice like acid. “There it is.”
His fists clench at his sides. “That’s what you really think, huh? I’m just some outsider. A guest in the family you built with trauma and silence.”
Bruce doesn’t reply. His stance is still. Cold. Measured.
“You act like you’re the only one who ever bled for this mission,” Kyle spits. “Like your grief is the only grief that counts. But I’ve watched teammates die, Bruce. I’ve buried friends in space. I’ve held the hands of people as their minds were torn apart by fear, and I’ve survived it.”
He steps forward again, eyes burning. “Don’t you dare tell me I wasn’t trained for this.”
“Kyle,” Dick starts, but he’s cut off.
“No. No one else says a word,” Kyle snaps, without even looking at him. “Because I’m done pretending that this was okay. That what Bruce does is noble. It’s not noble. It's bullshit. You hide behind tactics and timelines and control because you can’t stomach the idea that you missed something.”
The words land like a hit to the gut. The silence after them is heavier than anything else in the room. Dick opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. Tim looks down, jaw tight.
Even the screens seem to quiet.
Bruce speaks low — quiet but lethal. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kyle leans in, fire in his eyes. “No, Bruce. I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re terrified of letting anyone see how much you care, because you think it makes you weak. But it doesn’t. What makes you weak is letting the people you love suffer alone, while you sit here and calculate.”
Barbra’s voice cuts back in, urgent and steady. “Kyle, you need to move. Her vitals just pinged from the trace residue left on her comm. She's still alive but her heart rate’s climbing fast. She's panicking.”
Kyle pulls back slightly, shoulders tense, his whole body coiled like a wire about to snap.
“I’m going,” he says again, voice thick with rage.
Bruce blocks his path. “We need to approach this with caution.”
Kyle looks him dead in the eye.
“If she dies because you hesitated again, I swear to God, Bruce, I won’t just blame you. I’ll never forgive you.”
Bruce doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move.
Kyle’s ring flares and a burst of green light swirls around him.
“I’m going in,” he says one last time, locking eyes with Dick, with Tim, with Barbara on the screen.
“To bring her home. Or burn through hell trying.”
A green light flashes, Kyle is gone.
The cave falls still again and Bruce is left staring at the place Kyle just vanished from, jaw clenched, his own fear too deeply buried to show.
Kyle navigates the old sewerways wearing a constructed green gas mask to repel any toxins. He searches for any trace of you or Scarecrow. On his travels he catches a shine out of the corner of his eye. He hurries over and crouches on the ground. He picks up the object, a necklace. One that he had bought you. He feels the cool metal on his fingers and closes his eyes for a moment. He feels your presence, he knows you are close.
The damp air presses in, thick with the stench of decay and old fear. Shadows crawl along the walls as his ring’s light casts eerie green patterns across the tunnel’s cracked bricks. He moves forward, each step careful but determined. Memories flood the neural construct. Fragments of your thoughts are altered by Crane’s toxins, flickers of doubt and pain. He catches a glimpse of your silhouette, trapped in a nightmare that twists your reality. Kyle breathes steady again, the hum of his ring synchronizing with his heartbeat. A sharp clatter is heard up ahead, snapping his focus. Behind a rusted pipe is a tall figure. Kyle takes a step closer.
The gas mask is unmistakable. Scarecrow.
Kyle’s jaw tightens. Got you. He thinks. But the figure vanishes into the shadows as the hallucination consumes him. He steadies himself and breaks free with his willpower. He continues on, the thought of you not once leaving his mind.
Deeper in the sewers, he comes upon a run off. He follows it down and sees a dim light ahead. He passes the archway and finds you. You’re still tied to the pole and trembling. Your eyes are squeezed shut, the rest of your body limp. His heart stops for half a second then he rushes to your side.
His hands graze over the shackles and rope keeping you held up. He constructs a shield around the both of you to keep more toxins from entering your system.
“Hey,” he says softly, cupping your face. “I’m here.”
But you don’t respond. Your eyes flicker behind closed lids trapped deep within the chaos Crane built inside your mind. He knows what he has to do next. He kneels beside you, placing one hand to your forehead. His other hand forms another construct, a green wire arching out like synapses connecting. It slips into your mind like a key through a lock.
The world Kyle steps into is a twisted version of reality. Gotham streets warped like melting wax, shadows cling to every corner, moving when he isn’t looking. He stands in the middle of it, fully armored, his light barely cutting through the fog. He hears sobbing. Screams. Your voice, pleading with someone who isn’t there.
He moves and the cityscape shifts with every step. Your memories fold over each other. He sees pieces of your past: a shattered childhood bedroom. The cracked pavement where you lost your first fight. A rooftop soaked in rain where a mission went wrong. And at every location are shadows shaped like Crane, lurking in the background.
You’re curled on the ground in the center of a crumbling plaza, trembling, clothes torn, blood staining your hands.
Kyle approaches slowly. “Hey,” he says, his voice warm, calm. “I’ve got you.”
You don’t hear him at first. You flinch as another Crane shadow looms over you, mocking you. You let out another scream, thinking that Kyle is here to harm you again. Thinking that the Joker is back for you.
With a wave of his hand and flick of the lantern ring, the shadow of Crane is gone. The sky seems to clear up just a little more around you, the blood clean from your hands.
You look up confused, your breath falters.
“Kyle?” you look up at him with a weary glance.
“Yeah. It’s me. I’m really here.”
You shake your head, backing away. “No. You’re not. You’re just another lie. Another illusion.You’re not real.”
He reaches forward slowly. “This isn’t a trick. This is me, alright? You dropped your necklace. I found it. I followed it. You left me a trail.” He holds up the silver pendant. You’re crying now, silently. Your body trembles as the hallucinations fight to take hold again. He places your necklace in your hand. The one you thought was lost. The memory attached to it flares back to something warm, something real. A night on the Watchtower. Laughter. Hope. Kyle. Your Green Lantern.
That breaks the loop. Just enough.
Kyle pulls you into his arms as the storm around you begins to collapse. He holds on tight. For a few minutes. The toxins are worn off and you come back to him.
“I’m here. I’ve got you,”
“Y-your alive? I thought-”
“Not real, Crane’s toxins are messing with you. I got you free for the moment but you gotta help too. Break through, I know you can do it.” He helps pull you out of the mental mindgame. You nod against his chest, body still trembling, but the warmth of his hold starts to push back the cold.
“I’m trying,” you whisper. “It’s so loud… it won’t stop.” Kyle tightens his grip around you at the sound of your voice.
“Then listen to me. Focus on my voice. Everything else; the blood, the shadows, the guilt it’s all fake. Crane’s poison.”
Your fingers tighten around the pendant in your palm then a memory emerges. Not a toxin induced one, but a true actual memory. A rooftop on Oa, the twin moons shining overhead. Kyle holding your hand, sketchbook in his lap, laughing as you mocked his attempt at drawing you mid-fight. You hadn’t smiled like that in weeks. And in that memory, you remember the promise he gave you.
“If you ever get lost,” Kyle had said, “I’ll find you. Always.”
That truth hits hard and deep and you take a shaky breath, the surrounding fog starting to lift. The crumbling curated Gotham around you wavers, groans like it's losing power. Kyle brushes a lock of hair from your face.
“There you are,” he murmurs, his voice cracking with something deeper than just relief. “I’ve got you.” He smiles. The nightmare shakes again, harder this time. Crane’s illusion cracks under the weight of your combined will.
But one final shadow remains. Behind you, the real Scarecrow twists into something monstrous. Towering. Rooted in your deepest trauma. His voice echoes through the space.
“You think this ends because of him?” Crane hisses. “You think love saves you from fear? It feeds it. He’ll leave. They always do. And you’ll be alone again. Love is going to get you killed.”
The altered fear and anxiety begins to creep into your system again. It knows exactly what to say. What to show you. The faces of people you’ve lost. The voices of ones who left. Of ones who betrayed. You squeeze your eyes shut, sheltering yourself.
Not even a millisecond passes and Kyle raises his hand, the green light of the ring surges, crashing into Crane with the force of a hurricane and destroying him with pure willpower. It breaks you free from the fear, the hatred.
Back in the sewer, a blast of emerald light erupts as you wake. Kyle quickly begins to cut and break you out of the ropes and chains. You take a deep breath like it's your first time breathing, like you had been drowning in the ocean. Your eyes crack open and find his immediately.
“Hey, hey,” he whispers, cupping your cheek again. “You’re here. You’re safe. It’s over.”
Tears spill before you even realize they’re falling. You collapse into his chest. Freed from restraints. And for a long time, he just holds you. No more speeches. No more battles. Just you and Kyle. Just love.
“I thought I was lost,” you whisper against his armor. “I thought I was never getting out.” He slightly hushes you and runs a hand through your hair for comfort.
“I’ll always come for you. Don’t ever doubt that.” He places a kiss on your temple. He shifts you over so that he is standing, holding you in his strong arms.
“Come on. I’m getting you out of here.”
The chill of the Batcave lingered while Kyle was gone. Everyone sat still around the monitors waiting for a sign of anything. Dick huffs.
“Are we just gonna keep sitting here? We should go help.” Bruce shuts him down.
“Rayner has got it all planned. He was not interested in help, he will be fine.”
“B, really? He didn’t want help? That was you!”
Their near argument is cut short by the appearing green portal. It lands both of you in the middle of the Batcave. The moment the construct goes out, Dick is at your side, helping Kyle ease you down onto the nearby med table but your grip tightens on him for a moment.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, reading you before you even have to say it. “I’ve got you.”
Dick’s hand hovers over your shoulder, his face pale with relief. Tim lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. And Bruce stays by the monitor. Just standing and staring at you, his daughter. The one he almost failed for what felt like the millionth time.
You laid there, blinking against the harsh med lights with the Batcave coming into focus. Familiar. Real. You flinch slightly as the medical equipment buzzes behind you
“Easy,” Kyle says gently, sitting beside you, his thumb brushing your wrist. “It’s real. You’re back.” Your eyes lock with his. You nod, but there’s something broken just beneath your surface. You focus and center on the warmth of his touch.
Bruce steps forward slowly. He stops a few feet from the table. You look at him, your expression unreadable. There’s so much hurt and exhaustion behind your eyes. He opens his mouth to say something. You cut him off with a hoarse voice.
It’s not a shout. It’s barely a whisper. But it silences the entire room. Kyle speaks up again.
“I’m taking her to the healing center on Oa. Where she’ll be protected.”
Bruce takes another step forward on the opposing side of the medbay bed. He glares into Kyle’s soul.
“No, she is staying here. She will do just fine. I will not let Scarecrow get to her again.”
“Like hell you will. No. She’s coming with me.”
You feel the tension peering out of both of them. You stay still and quiet, too weak to interfere. A few moments of silent staring pass and Bruce keeps on with his stoic act. Kyle makes his final decision.
“We’re leaving.” He states. Bruce’s jaw tenses slightly. But he doesn’t speak.
“She needs rest,” Kyle continues, his voice calm but full of conviction. “Real rest. Not Gotham. Not the Manor. Not with everything she’s just survived.”
Dick steps forward slightly. “Where will you go?”
“To Oa. The healing center. They’ve handled trauma deeper than this. It’s quiet there. No fear gas. No nightmares echoing down alleyways.” His hand brushes over your shoulder, steady. “No Batman.”
Bruce’s gaze finally shifts over first to Kyle, then to you. He still says nothing. You meet his eyes, and though your throat is sore, your words are loud.
“I can’t stay here, Dad. I need… to find myself again. Somewhere else.” Something changes in Bruce’s eyes. Guilt, maybe. Or loss. Maybe both. Kyle gives him a moment. Bruce lowers his gaze slightly. When he speaks, his voice is quieter than anyone expects.
Kyle doesn’t nod. Doesn’t salute. “Always.”
Dick steps to your side as the green light begins to build again. He places a hand on your shoulder, offering a soft smile. “You’ll come back when you’re ready. We’ll be here.”
You smile back at him and thank your brothers. As the constructed green platform forms beneath you, Bruce takes one small step forward. Not close enough to touch, but enough to mean something.
“I love you,” he says, barely louder than a breath. “You know that.”
You nod, eyes tearing up. “I know.”
Then Kyle takes your hand, and the two of you rise in a quiet blaze of green light—bright, but soft. No more shouts. No more shadows.
a/n: ITS OVER!!!!! (im writing pt2) LOL. tbh i absolutely adored putting this together. im an angst kinda girl and a half. pt 2 should be more fluffy stay tuned ❇️🥰 also just now seeing that i spelt babs name wrong majority of the time. whoops.
