status: ongoing
chapters: one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / (interlude) / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty / twenty one / twenty two / twenty three
rating: mature for entire work
warnings: stripping, violence, blood, light BDSM dynamic (blindfold), mention of past abuse and trauma
summary: the nights in Gotham are always unforgiving, you, you strip for money, to feed your son and to forget some of your troubles. it’s easy, it’s simple until Vengeance appears in your night.
current word count: 168,019
read it on AO3
to be clear, I believe younger artists and minors can write good fics (not to say “fanfic must always be good” either because it is a hobby and I still believe that as long as it’s done with love and the artist’s joy, it is good) and I believe it’s good when younger artists and minors start making art at young ages.
that said, a lot of fanfics out there that you read and love are done by adults with kids, jobs and responsibilities. adults who have years, decades of practice under their belts. adults who don’t let life and responsibilities take away their joy in creating.
someone’s love and passion don’t suddenly go away the second they reach a certain age. so if anything, I feel sorry for people who say “adults shouldn’t write fanfics or make fan art” because what these people really say is that they expect themselves to stop having fun and finding comfort in things that bring them joy and comfort the second they reach a certain age. it’s sad that they put an expiration date on their own fun and source of comfort.
⯈ previous chapters: after hours masterpost - after hours tag
⯈ pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x female!reader
⯈ summary: the nights in Gotham are always unforgiving, you, you strip for money, to feed your son and to forget some of your troubles. it’s easy, it’s simple until Vengeance appears in your night.
⯈ rating: mature.
⯈ tw: violence, blood, angst, mention of domestic and physical abuse
⯈ chapter word count: 7k
⯈ note: back again, no I haven't forgotten about this fic, it should be finished this year, fingers crossed, I'll see you in three weeks for another update 🖤
As Bruce talks and explains his idea, you listen, arms folded over your chest, nodding just as Alfred does. But still, it's not like your mind is at peace. Not at all, in fact.
Domino is the mayor's deputy. The man who employed that asshole Vincent. The man behind The Island and behind all the drugs and women trafficking. The man who tried to kill Bruce and who is responsible for the days he has spent unconscious and for all the surgery he had.
And most of all, the man who made sure Cynthia was dead. Leaving her husband completely alone.
Benjamin Garcia.
Who always seems to tag along behind Bela Reál. Fuck. Not only you have met him, but you have shaken his hand when the Wayne Orphanage had opened that one evening. He even wished Bruce a prompt reestablishment, without knowing that Bruce Wayne was actively trying to undermine his every move.
It's maddening that he leads such a double life and that he has that much power. It fucking pisses you off, that's what it is, it angers you, so much so that Bruce puts one hand on your shoulder the next moment, bringing you back to reality.
"Hey," Bruce squeezes gently, whispering your name next as you look up into those blue eyes, "Are you okay? Do you need like… ten minutes?"
"We don't have ten minutes," you reply as your hands fall to your side. You, however, take a deep breath, doing your best to put a literal lid on your emotions. "I'm here, sorry, I was thinking about the last time I saw Benjamin Garcia and fuck... that asshole was at Cynthia's funeral."
"He was," Bruce confirms through gritted teeth, and you realise that he might seem more composed than you, but Bruce is just as angry as you are.
You're supposed he’s more versed than you when it comes to pushing emotions aside and putting them away. To come back to them or examine them much later.
"We are going to make him pay for everything."
"Yes, so now.... I suppose we should record the video?" You say, referring back to Bruce's earlier plans.
"Yes," Bruce nods as he speaks, turning to Alfred. "Let me suit up again, and if you can have a look at the data from the latest Gotham news broadcast... we need to see how Domino is taking over their news show."
"Hmm, well," Alfred is already sitting back in front of the computer. "I don't suppose it is that hard, sir. I think I have cracked tougher security than that for you in the past."
"Good," Bruce whispers with a smile. "It will be useful."
"What do you want me to do?" you ask.
"There's a camera back in my office upstairs, think you can get it?"
"Yes, going, getting, and then we'll record the message you want to give to Gotham."
"Not me, Vengeance."
You nod more than aware of the distinction, and you head towards the elevator quickly, glad to be moving and not to be left alone with your thoughts.
Yeah, that bastard is going to pay.
***
"I think that's the one..." you whisper a few moments later as you lower the camera.
You nod as you give it to Alfred. Just as you do, Bruce gets up, removing Vengeance's mask. There is still black coal around his eyes, and they appear even bluer than before. You're distracted for a few seconds as he removes the other part of his armour, and he addresses Alfred next.
"That will be enough for you to broadcast it?"
"Yes, sir, right as Domino starts his little address, we will take over all the screens in Gotham City, and your message will be transmitted." Alfred sounds confident; he doesn't look up from the computer screen or the keyboard. However, there is no doubt in his mind or on his face, so you trust him. You know Bruce shares the same sentiment.
"Perfect, now let me just..." Bruce trails off when Alfred, one hand still typing, moves his other hand to open a desk drawer and hand him some wipes. "Thank you." Bruce wipes off his face clean, turning to you next.
"Let's head upstairs, we have an hour before it all starts."
"Yes," you grab his hand automatically.
"Very well, sir, I'll call you if I need anything, but it seems we should be all good to go."
"Thank you, Alfred.”
Both you and Bruce say it at the same time, and in the elevator, you squeeze Bruce's fingers tight as you lean against his nearby arm. You sigh as the doors close, Bruce feels solid and warm... Everything you need with all the revelations of the evening, something steady, something firm you can grip and hold on to throughout the night. Someone who will fight tooth and nail for you, who will always be there for you, and someone who will even brave death for you, Bruce is all those things, and so much more. You've never been more certain of this right now.
Upstairs, you swing by the living room, and you watch as your mother is helping your son with some math. It brings some memories of your own childhood, and you smile. You don't want to interrupt, so you lead Bruce back to the kitchen. You close the door as you do so, and Bruce, who was reaching for the kettle, turns with you, with a slight frown.
"So they don't hear," you mumble, and he nods.
"Hmm, I get it, and as Alfred would say, the situation calls for tea...."
"Yeah, right, okay?"
There's a relative silence in the kitchen as the water boils and Bruce finds cups, tea bags, sugar, milk and even some gingersnaps to eat. You don't think you'll be able to eat anything for a while, your stomach is a proper mess of knots, anxiety and anger and yeah...
A few minutes later, you are holding on to a warm cup of tea, sitting at the kitchen island, Bruce in front of you, holding on to his warm drink as well.
"This is so messed up", he whispers, breaking the silence, and all you can do is chuckle, because you've had the same exact thought.
"It is... and I can safely say that no one could have predicted this."
"Nope, not even me, and I am supposed to be sharp."
"You are."
"I still ended up in the hospital."
"That you did, I'm glad you came out, even if it was too early."
"Hmm, I'll tell you what, when all of this is over, I'll book an appointment with the neurologist, and a bunch of doctors... they can do a full check-up..."
"And you'll get some rest?" You ask, your eyes finding his, and Bruce nods, taking a sip of his tea next.
"Yes, some... only on one condition..." The Wayne starts, and judging by his expression, you already know you have something to do with the condition.
"Come on, Bruce, spill it," you order, and it's Bruce's turn to chuckle.
"We go somewhere, you and I, like a full weekend trip, like a regular couple. To a fancy Airbnb or a hotel, where we can just relax, eat some local food, visit some museums, whatever... just away from Gotham... anywhere you'd like."
"Oh, that sounds.... yeah, I'd like that," you nod, something warm in your chest. "I've actually never really left Gotham."
"Really?"
"Hmm, does Metropolis count?"
"Nah, not really."
"Yeah, I've never crossed state or anything like that, so... yeah. Shit. I haven’t led a full life."
"We can go anywhere you like, you name it."
"Oh yeah, what if I say Italy, hmm? Then what?" You think back to Benjamin Garcia and his origins, and you watch as Bruce simply shrugs.
"I did say anywhere, so yeah, even Italy."
You watch as Bruce nods again, before he takes another sip of his tea. This time longer, and he seems deep in thought. Is he already planning your weekend away in his head? Honestly, it wouldn't surprise you; he seems to be that kind of man. He likes to be prepared, and you honestly respect that.
"I will look, I said Italy on top of my head, but honestly, even a trip to Vegas sounds exciting!" Your reflection causes Bruce to laugh so much that he has to put down his cup of tea the next second.
"Vegas, really? You don't get enough excitement in Gotham City?"
"Tss, of course I do not, Bruce, and besides, it would be a whole different kind of excitement, one that does not involve life or death."
"Touché."
"Plus, I feel it would be really fun to go to Vegas with someone who has an unlimited amount of money," you tease, reaching over the kitchen island to poke his free hand next. He chuckles again, blue eyes on your fingers and then on you.
"I don't have an unlimited amount of money; it is a finite amount," The Wayne argues, and you roll your eyes.
"You get what I mean, we can gamble and have a bit of fun if we go, and it won't be the end of the world."
"Very true. If you want to go to Vegas for the weekend..." Bruce shrugs, going back to his cup. "We can go to Vegas for the weekend."
"Good to know." You conclude with a smile, and there is another silence in the kitchen. It might be trivial and a small moment of reprieve, but just like that, you feel like a real couple.
Because making plans to save Gotham is one thing, but planning a trip away? It seems more tangible, less fate of the world and more Sunday morning, and you love that, you cherish that.
You tuck your hair behind your ears the next second, and it causes Bruce to frown.
"What is it? There's something else on your mind..."
"What?"
"Whenever you do that with your hair," Bruce puts down his cup to mimic your gesture, tucking invisible hair behind his ears. "That means there is something you want to talk about, and most of the time it's because it's not pleasant or will lead to a difficult conversation."
"Yeah, I—" You swallow quickly, you didn't know you were this predictable. "You're right, so I'm just gonna come out and say it."
"Go ahead, I'm all ears."
"I— Shit. Yeah. I don't want to work at the Wayne Orphanage anymore. Sitting behind a desk and everything, it's not for me, despite how rewarding it is to work with and for children, I just can't. I want to do something else. Something with my dancing. I've seen that the Gotham Dance Academy takes audition from anyone once a year, and maybe if I can get some decent ballet classes or something, I can join in and do something with it. But once this is over, I don't want to go back to the orphanage. Maybe the club. Or a different club, because that's a job I enjoy, despite the customers and everything, and I'm good at it, so yeah..."
You take a deep breath at the end of your rant, and you feel like you've run for miles and miles. Even though you're still sitting in his kitchen, Bruce's blue eyes are still on you. He hasn't stopped staring since the beginning of your speech; he hasn't even blinked once, and it is a bit daunting.
But after everything that has happened lately, everything you and Bruce went through together, all the revelations... You deserve to be honest with him. If not now, then there will never be a perfect time, you think, biting your lower lip next as you stare at him.
Is he upset? Disappointed? It's suddenly very hard to tell which is which, or which one you're expecting, but the silence lasts a minute longer before Bruce finds his voice again.
"Is it because of Marvin?"
"I'm sorry, what?" You say that louder than what you need to, you eye the door next, half expecting your mother to barge in, but no. It's still you and Bruce as he talks about the biological father of your son.
"He works at the orphanage, is it because you feel uncomfortable or—"
"This isn't about Marvin," you insist, index tapping the kitchen island next. "Fuck Marvin, to be honest. What can he do now? No, it's about me, Bruce, it's one hundred per cent about me."
"Okay, sorry, I had to ask, just to be sure."
"I understand that. Just like I understand this isn't what you wanted, and it would be easier if I had a steady and boring job..."
"Wait, hold on, is that what you think I want?" Bruce mumbles, and next thing you know, Bruce is on his two feet and coming closer.
He grabs one of your hands and cups your face with the other, his thumb pressing against your cheek as he makes you look up. Into those familiar blue eyes. You could never let them go now, you need them too much, you need him too much.
"You want me to be safe, right?" you whisper, and he nods.
"Yes, safe and happy, and if you don't like it at the orphanage, then okay, I think it's great that you want to do something with your dancing, and I can help you look when things settle back in town," he assures you with a soft smile. "As for finding another club to dance at, I can help with that also. Maybe a place with tighter security and actual policies rather than yeah..."
"The money was good, though," you argue with a smile.
"Yeah, you let me worry about that, thank you," Bruce counters, with a smirk of his own. "But if that's what you want to do, do that, I'm not gonna stop you or tell you what to do." Bruce insists on the last part; he moves to release your face, but you cover his hand with yours, so he stays exactly where he is.
"So you don't mind if I strip for money then?"
"Am I thrilled about it? No. But it's you, and I've seen you on stage, you're something else, you're in your own world, and I know it's not really about whose lap you're dancing on..." Bruce adds quickly, and you find yourself nodding because he gets it. "So never mind me, I'll get over it."
"Really?" You press him again, a bit uncertain and convinced that yes, you are asking too much.
"Yes, I will get over it. The only thing that matters to me is what you want. If you're happy, then I'm happy... and that's it." Bruce concludes with a smile, then leans in, pressing his lips softly against yours. It's a quick kiss, no correction, it is barely a kiss, but it's enough to reassure you, more than enough to make you feel grounded and like you have a purpose here. Here with him.
It makes you smile as Bruce pulls away, and you notice that his expression matches yours.
"I know who I am dating... I also know who I fell in love with and..."
"And?"
"And if too many things change, then you won't be that person anymore, it's as simple as that."
"Sounds logical."
"Yeah, I know, I'm quite smart... sometimes."
"You mean when you don't end up in the hospital? Yeah, pretty smart. Sometimes, even the smartest in the room."
"Oh, that's a compliment, but is that a hint of sarcasm I detect?"
"No, not at all," you say, this time fully and completely sarcastic.
Bruce laughs, pinching your cheeks, and you do the same in retaliation, and he ends up laughing even more. When he lets go of your face, it's to kiss your cheeks, which is much better in your opinion, and he slowly presses his forehead to yours.
All you see is him, Bruce. The blue of his eyes, his sharp nose and his even sharper jaw, that pale skin of his, and a smile on his face. It's funny because you're smiling too, despite the circumstances, what you two just found out, what's happening in Gotham, and what Bruce will most likely have to do to fix it.
To Domino, it might be a game, but to you?
It's Bruce's life on the line, your future, the possibilities, the after. The way he holds you in the middle of the night, the way you're cared for, and you never have to look over your shoulder. It's just a feeling, in your heart, in the pit of your stomach... but now that you're so accustomed to it, how could you ever let it go?
How could you ever pass that up? You can't, you just can't.
"You know I love you, right?" Bruce whispers it in the small space that separates your two faces, and your smile widens.
"I love you too."
It's the first time you actually say it back fully, the first time you two share those words without any stake, without a literal dagger hanging over your heads. It's light, simple, refreshing, and you're not even surprised when Bruce leans all the way in to give you a proper kiss. That you need, that you welcome, probably smiling too much, one hand over his shoulder, gripping tight, the other one inside of his hair, doing the same thing.
For a moment, right there in this kitchen, there is a sense of normalcy that you appreciate. You're not just dating the mask, Vengeance, you are also dating him, Bruce Wayne, and you love him, everything he stands for and everything he represents.
And it's so easy. So goddamn easy that you almost don't want to let go.
You only part when your mother enters the kitchen next. She laughs, apologises for disturbing you two and informs you that your son is hungry.
"Hmm, maybe we should all have some food together?"
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."
"Hmm… we should have something to eat before the end of the countdown," Bruce mumbles, and you are half surprised that he mentions it with your mother around. The old woman shrugs, she makes a face, even the kind of face you have seen many, many times growing up. She is clearly displeased, and it's not like you can blame her. Who would want to think about Domino in such peaceful circumstances? In this little bubble of serenity that you manage to build. But it is the reality, unfortunately.
"I will let you two watch that," your mother simply said, a tired expression on your face. "If that's okay with you, the boy and I will just be in the library or the music room."
"Of course, Mom, you don't have to put yourself through that," you confirm before you place one hand over her shoulder and squeeze.
She looks at you with an expression so familiar, and yes, she is tired. It’s easy to forget how old she is, considering how she has been helping you ever since you barged into her doorstep, pregnant and crying. None of this is new for her, sadly.
"I know this is Gotham City," the older woman mumbles as she opens different cupboards and takes some pasta out, as well as seasoning. "But sometimes, a normal, boring day would be good."
"I couldn't agree more," Bruce nods, and you almost want to ask him if he really means it.
Normal and boring would mean no more Vengeance, you don't know if he realises that. He masks it well, well enough that you buy it, and your mother smiles at him before asking him what he wants to eat. You let them decide and talk while you go check on your little boy. He seems happy enough. He asks if everything is okay, and you nod. Dinner will be ready soon.
"I see... mom?"
"Hmm?"
"Do we have to head home?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, when everything goes back to normal... do we have to head home, back to our apartment, or... can we stay here, with Bruce and Alfred?"
He asks it so innocently that it melts your heart, and you kiss his forehead first, before answering.
"I mean, we can, I'll have to talk to Bruce first but... young man, did you just roll your eyes at your mother?" You ask, a bit of disbelief in your voice as the little boy just chuckles next and takes your right hand.
"Yes, but only because we both know he is going to say yes," points out the little boy with a smile on his face. "He can't really say no to you..."
"Well..." you chuckle too because the little boy might have a point. "Still, though, I will ask him, because it's not polite to assume first off, and in a relationship, you always ask your partner if he, she or they are okay with your choices. Not to mention this is Bruce's space, we have to respect it."
"Yes, I know..." The little boy buries his face into your sweater, and you smile. "But yes, I like it here, when we're all together."
"Yeah?"
"Hmm-hmm." He nods, looking up at you next, with an expression so similar to Bruce's, you almost ask yourself who his father is.
Oh, who are you kidding? It is one hundred per cent Bruce. Bruce has been more of a father to the boy than Marvin could ever hope to be. Ever.
"I'll talk to him, alright? But thank you for sharing all of that with me."
"Of course, Mom, I tell you everything, I always will."
"Hmm, can I get that in writing, mister? Because one day, you might not feel this way, you know..."
"You mean when I get older? Nah, I'll always feel this way, Mom."
And you can only hope as the little boy hugs you.
Soon enough, the dinner is ready, and if your mother asks about Alfred, when Bruce explains that he is busy, she understands. She doesn't ask more questions, but it is so clear that Bruce is distracted during dinner. His blue eyes keep darting at the clock on the wall, and yeah, he is elsewhere, thinking about that countdown; it's less than an hour now. Still, you place one hand on his knee, under the table, and you feel him relax.
If he doesn't let himself enjoy moments like these, he will eventually regret it, and you don’t want him to miss out. On anything, actually.
Bruce does relax his stance a little bit, enjoying the food and talking with your mother. They already make plans on what to do after, for when Gotham City is reopened, and everything is back to normal. Your son wants to go back to the park and fly kites again, he wants to play soccer with his school friends, and Bruce loves that idea. So much, he starts making plans himself: why not a couple of matches, out on a real field, with parents cheering and kids from various schools from all over the city.
"Really?" asks the little boy, with actual glee and excitement in his heart.
"Yeah, I'll take care of it," Bruce promises with a wink as your mother is already refilling his and your plate.
This, you think, was worth all the pain. Marvin screaming at you and telling you that you were worthless, that no one could ever love you, that you were trash. This was worth every single tear, every single heartbreak, every single bruise you had to mask with makeup, every single night you barely made any money or tips to cover the ride back home. The smudge mascara tears, the first few nights of doubting, the glow of the stage a little bit too shiny sometimes.... Watching over Bruce's unmoving form for days and days, only kept alive by that bip-bip, that incessant bip.
You did it all for this, for this moment right there, and you smile as you finish your own plate. You're not that hungry, but you refuse to waste food, and you don’t want the dinner to end.
It's easy to clear the dishes afterwards, and when your mother suggests a movie to the little boy, he's happy and lets himself be led away. Meanwhile, Bruce grabs your hand and leads you away, back to his office. Alfred is already waiting for you, you realise, in front of a smaller TV than the one that your mother and son are going to watch their movie on. It's better this way; you'd rather shield him that way.
"We're not late, are we?" Bruce asks, and Alfred nods negatively.
"No, sir, the broadcast news has just started.... they are still talking about the current lockdown." He answers as he hands Bruce the remote.
You sigh, seeing the same two journalists everyone in Gotham is well acquainted with. "I can't believe they are still doing their jobs despite everything..." You whisper as the camera pans to a specific journalist's face as she gives people the emergency numbers.
"I get it," Bruce shrugs. "Even if I were just a civilian, I don't think I'd be able to sit at home and do absolutely nothing."
"Just to be clear, sir, you'd make a terrible civilian," Alfred is quick to add, and it's enough to make you chuckle slightly. Because he is not absolutely wrong, no, in fact, he is totally correct in that regard.
Bruce shrugs in response, still focused on the TV.
"We are now minutes away from the end of Domino's countdown, and at this moment, the mayor's stance hasn't changed, and Gotham City remains on lockdown as it's been since Bela Reál's address."
”Yes, that is correct, and we will go back to the countdown."
...
You squeeze Bruce's hand on instinct, seeing the numbers on the screen.
Just a few seconds remaining, and something will undeniably change within Gotham City. And maybe within yourself and Bruce, too.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Just like you all predicted and very unsurprisingly, when the countdown ends, a single domino appears on screen. It's zoomed in and a bit blurry, so you wonder how it was filmed, but you have your answer the next second when someone clearly picks up the camera and turns it to the man of the hour. Domino himself, with his white suit and white mask still very much in place. He stands in a dimly lit room full of mirrors, and it almost looks like he is speaking to his own reflection or his cameraman.
It is a bit eerie and surreal to hear that voice, and once again, you squeeze Bruce's hands very tightly, more out of instinct than anything.
"Good evening, Gotham City, I can not say that I am very surprised, disappointed, yes, but not surprised and-"
"Is it now, Alfred?" Bruce asks to your immediate right, and it makes your heart beat steadier in the process.
"Yes, anytime now, sir... in about ten seconds?" the older man replies as he stares down at the watch on his wrist.
Alfred counts while on the screen, Domino makes empty and idle threats about the future of Gotham, his legacy and what he is trying to achieve.
What a fucking prick, you think. And just as you do, the screen turns black. Complete black, and you know most people will assume that something is wrong with their TV. Why not considering everything that has been happening recently in Gotham City? But it's no trick of the light or their TV failing them. Almost immediately, you hear his voice, you hear Vengeance's voice coming from the TV.
"I think it's enough of that, don't you?" Sure enough, a single light bulb lights up on screen, right above Vengeance's head, shining some light on the familiar mask, the suit, and how he is standing so tall.
You didn't realise how much it would hit you seeing it on a screen, as well as the rest of Gotham. No, surely, it's a bit naive, but filming it, you had no idea how impactful it would be and how tall Bruce... no correction, Vengeance, would be standing.
"As you can see, I am very much alive and still standing. Some may claim to have killed me, to have me weakened, but neither of those claims is the truth. I am very much alive, flesh and blood, standing and fighting for Gotham. Just like I know you at home, watching this, are still very much alive and standing." There is a brief pause before Vengeance continues. "I am not simply an idea, I'm not simply retribution and the thing at the back of your mind that tells you to speak up when something is wrong or to beat those who pray on the weak, I am more than that. I am standing here and very much alive because of all of you. For all of you. I do intend to fight, until my life is taken, until Gotham is back in the correct hands... Yours."
Another pause, and you squeeze Bruce's hand even sharper than before.
"You should have received a parcel on your doorstep today, a mask, my mask. When this address is over, I want you to wear it, I want you to turn off your TV and turn on the lights in your home and stand by the window and wait for my signal. Because I am you and you are me, we won't stop fighting, because I am your fist, I am your retribution… I am your Vengeance. If anyone tries to test that, they'll have to go through us first."
...
Just like that, Vengeance's message ends, and it's back to a black screen.
…
"Time to see if I'm heard," Bruce whispers darkly as you pull him to the nearest window.
He sounds confident, but you know, deep down, Bruce is the one who doubts the most. That cares the most, because the mask isn't just his. Something you and Alfred had to remind him of over the past few days, and something you are convinced of. Before Vengeance, Gotham was a bleak place, through and through. But he tried, and fuck, he still tries, and that does count for something at the end of the day.
Because who is the hero in the end? The one that comes at the very last second, saves everyone, keeps anyone from bleeding... Or is the one who is there, every single day, night after night, making sure everyone is standing tall? Making sure there is something to protect, something to hold and most important of all: something to defend?
You already have your answer, because you are dating the man who's always protected you and the one man you have always believed in; it's as simple as that for you.
So yes, you pull him to the window. From there, you have a very good view of the surrounding buildings and a good portion of the city. And there, it's a matter of seconds, but it happens.
One window lights up, and then another, and another... half a dozen of them, then, a hundred, a few hundred more. It's... yeah, Alfred has the binoculars, and you can see him smiling as he hands them to you next. To confirm what you already knew.
It's thousands upon thousands of people, standing by their windows, wearing the mask. Wearing his mask, people like you, regular people, people who've had had enough of the mindless violence, of the injustice, people who are yearning for an actual change.
"Oh look up, Gordon is really someone you can rely on, Sir."
"Of course he is, I was never doubting him one bit," Bruce mumbles after Alfred. And you don't need to turn the binoculars to his face, there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that Bruce is smiling, a full-blown smile, actually. Instead, you look up, just as Alfred instructed, and you see the bat signal in the sky. You cannot help but smile, because this is exactly what is needed at the moment.
"That's still good to know you have one friend in that police station." You say as you lower the binoculars, and you hand them back to Alfred slowly, fully turning to Bruce.
"Now what?"
"Now comes the worst part, we wait for Domino's response, no doubt he will respond... with his terms, I'll meet him and... let him think he is in control of the game once more..."
"But really you are."
"Something like that...." Bruce nods, a smirk well in place on his face, and he turns to Alfred. "Did you manage to hack into the security footage that is at Bela Reál's place?"
"Yes and no." When you two frown, Alfred explains, a tight lip smile on his face. "She doesn't appear to have security footage everywhere, just the main entrance and exits, and she has security... competent security from what I can see... Benjamin does visit, but he doesn't spend the night... I am keeping an eye on it, though."
"You really think he would blow his cover and do something to her?" You mumble, suddenly worried that you let the other woman in such a vulnerable position.
"I think it would compromise his cover, but also... you'd be surprised to what people do when they think they are cornered and desperate."
"Oh..." It's your turn to shrug. "You don't need to tell me."
"But," Alfred chimes in. "We are keeping an eye on it, closely, in the meantime... we wait, do doubt, Domino will send a message to you and very soon."
"Not to me,” Bruce cannot help but correct, “… To Vengeance."
Yes, it is very important to you that he makes the distinction. Because Vengeance is for the people out there, the one who just put on the mask and who needed a dose of hope.
But Bruce?
Bruce is just for you, yes, after everything those past few months and even the months before, Bruce is just for you, and you're really not in the mood to share.
***
The waiting is the worst part. Bruce was completely right.
Waiting for Domino's answer and to see if he will accept the fact that Vengeance is very much alive and is challenging him and everything he is trying to accomplish. Without a surprise, Vengeance hijacking his little address makes the news, and that's all anyone seems to be talking about for the next few hours, the newscasters at least.
Bruce goes out the very same night; he daunts the black armour, patrolling, assuring you that's what needs to be done and that yes, he is coming back.
"In one piece, please," you specify, staring at Vengeance now and blocking the way to the nearest motorcycle he was about to climb on.
He smirks, it's gone as soon as it arrives, and it stirs something in you, because you want him to take this seriously, and not just see it as the first night he can go out at Vengeance. Without particularly hiding, while being free.
Yes, you know exactly what goes through that head of his, behind that very thick mask, of course you do, you two think alike, and you don't take any of this lightly, at all.
"I am."
"You better..." You whisper when he leans forward, and his hands end up on your hips.
"Come back to this." It's quick, the way you do it, one minute you're staring into the almost too dark eyes, and the next you pull him to you, to press your lips together and kiss him. It's not an innocent kiss, and it's certainly not the kind of kiss you see in a typical love story, no. It's meant to brand him, it's meant to remind him, to remind them both, what he will be missing if he doesn't come back here, to you in any case.
When he pulls away, you hear him groan, and you take advantage of that small split second to bite his lower lip. The sound Bruce makes deepens, you feel him slightly shiver at that, and you cannot help but smile a little bit and take some pride in that, as he pulls away for good, standing up straighter this time.
"I am coming back," he reiterates, his focus clearly on you, and you nod, finally moving.
Nothing happens that night, and you're glad. Gladder even in the early morning when Bruce tears off the armour and slips back into bed with you.
He just doesn't do that, he pushes down the pyjama from your hips, and the next second he's kissing you. The very next breath is into you, and you can only gasp into the morning light, nails clawing at his shoulders, as he moves into you, nice, slow, and so deep that when you come, you're almost certain you see God for a second or two.
Or maybe it's a minute.
Whatever the case, it leaves you breathless and aching for more.
So much so that after those mindblowing minutes, you drag Bruce into the shower. Not to get cleaned, but just so you can kiss him senseless underneath the warm shower jet. Maybe there's some cleaning involved, you don't remember. All that's clear and not hazy is the imprint of his lips in the curve of your neck. The bruises he leaves on your skin, on your hips, as he lifts you easily, only to press you against the shower wall, and push against you.
Your bodies are joined once more, and it's just as messy as it was in bed. Bruce cannot seem to stop, even if it's impractical, even if he has to slow down at some point, just so you don't slip away.
But you love it, you love every single aspect of this, and you moan loudly, the sound swallowed by the water across your face, by Bruce's lips pressed to yours the very next second. You love it, and you hold on to him as he rips another orgasm from you, your arms wrapped around his wet shoulders, keeping him close. You moan I love you over and over again, like it's a prayer, like it's gonna keep you insane and alive. And maybe it does, you frankly do not know.
You're shivering as Bruce puts you down, and you clean up for real with a smile; he has the same kind of expression on his face. And you find him staring a little bit too long at your neck, you understand that it's because you have a bruise right there.
You don't hide it, why would you hide it? You're dating him, and it's not like you're going outside.
No, the day is spent inside, playing board games, watching movies and reading to your son. You do switch to the news when he's asleep on the couch in the afternoon and when your mother goes to make more tea. But, no signal from Domino.
It's like this for the next two days.
And you honestly do not know who is growing more impatient, you? Bruce? Vengeance? Maybe all three at once. You don't know, but every single time he comes back from a long night of patrolling, Bruce finds his way between your legs.
As the sun rises in the pale hue of the morning, he does his best to map out your curves, every single inch of your skin with his blue eyes, with his used and abused hands, with his soft lips. And you welcome him every time, you feel drunk from the feel of it, because you need him as much as he needs you.
Fuck no, you need even more, you know it's not a fair exchange, but you don't care. You're always gonna respond when he finds you like that, always. On the third day, as you're stepping out of the shower, alone this time, you find Bruce at the door, it's slightly opened and he's mumbling something. Yeah, he's clearly talking to Alfred, and you let them talk in hush tones as you find something suitable to wear. You’re back into the pyjama that Bruce pushed away from your body half an hour ago to have you naked; it's not even seven am, it's perfectly acceptable for you to still be in your pyjama.
By the time you're combing your somewhat wet hair with your hand, Bruce is coming back to you with a tablet in hand.
"What is it?" you ask, pushing your curls to one side of your face, sitting on the bed.
"Well... someone contacted Vengeance, alright," Bruce mumbles.
He sits down and hands you the tablet. You frown for a little bit, wondering what you are seeing, but you quickly realise that it's camera footage, it's not a live feed, no, according to the time stamp in the right corner, it's a playback. An hour ago, and it's... the rooftop of the police station, you gather, seeing the bat signal, turned off.
"I installed a camera up there weeks ago, just in case..." Bruce mumbles as your eyes are still glued to the tablet. "Someone found it."
And yes, someone did, you watch, a bit puzzled, Bela Reál, the mayor of Gotham City, appears. She is closely followed by Lieutenant Gordon, and she heads straight for the camera. She has that determination in her walk, you can tell. She gets close to the camera and raises a piece of paper to it.
We need to talk.
Tonight.
Midnight.
Come alone.
The black woman lowers her message, staring at the camera a bit longer before walking away. You sigh, handing Bruce the tablet back.
"Well, it is a response, and you can't blame her for reaching out; she assumed that you were dead, and she's been facing all of this alone..."
"Very true... it could be a trap."
"Also true... but Benjamin was nowhere in sight; he follows her around like a fucking lap dog," you say darkly, and while Bruce chuckles, you shrug, coming closer. "What? It's true! That man had no business visiting you at the hospital; it made my blood boil that he pretended to care."
"Yep... also my identity could have been compromised."
"Honestly? I don't think he suspects a thing. We already established that he is cocky, and he probably believed that you were just caught in the crossfire, otherwise, well, why not just finish the job? And he did say he killed the bat on TV..." you mumble, your chest pressed to Bruce's back, as you hug him like that, head on his shoulder. Bruce relaxes, he holds one of your hands, and he looks ahead.
"So, you think I should go?"
"Yes, don't tell her the whole truth, but hear her out, you're not the only one fighting for Gotham City, you know?"
"True." He sighs deeply. "And if it's a trap?"
"Please, as if they ever made a trap that could hold my man down," you say and yes, there is a surge of pride in your voice, and even if Bruce is looking ahead, you see the smile he has. Before he grabs your arm fully and pulls you into his lap. The sudden shift in position makes you gasp, even more so when you end up straddling him and kissing him the next second. You catch up quickly, though, hands in his hair and grinding your hips down.
It's dangerous, everything outside this bedroom remains uncertain and yet... you've never been happier.
