Comfort in the Darkness
tags: batman!jack abbot x fem!reader, concept teaser for a longer fic
notes: with a crazy amount of twitter posts and that one shawn hatosy batman edit on tiktok, I just had to write this. taglist below cut, and if you want more, please please please comment (I'm not going to write a full fic and have it get three likes)
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Two things shook Pittsburg to its core.
One: Jack Abbot stepped down as the night shift attending of the Pitt, leaving them desperate to fill his position and the hole he left in their hearts.
Two: crime rose substantially, giving way for a new breed of evil and filth to roam the streets after the sun dipped below the horizon. Along with reason two, Pittsburgh also manage to produce something—no, someone to combat the growing criminal activity.
The whispers called him a masked vigilante that walked through rains of gunfire without flinching. The press, on the other hand, named him as though he were a stray in need of a name.
They called him The Batman.
Questions rose, and fingers pointed, but no one knew who he was or where he came from. Publicists needing profit claimed him a danger to the society, a menace. Fans on their Reddit accounts and feeds hailed him hero, their saving grace. If you were able to even catch a glimpse of his blackened suit, no matter what you called him, it meant you were either the luckiest man alive or the unluckiest criminal about to be imprisoned until death.
Another thing they all noted was that the Batman did not kill. Maim, bruise, break bones, castrate on a few occasions: he did it all, but he left them breathing and crying for help.
You'd seen his handiwork first hand a few times. The Pitt continued to be the only Level One Trauma Center even if it lacked one of its key members. Criminals came wheeled in on gurneys, shouting madly about a man in a black mask with fists that felt like tree trucks. Nothing a few sedatives couldn't quiet down, but their words almost always seemed to stick to you.
Oh yeah, there was another thing that no one seemed to notice about the two things that rocked Pittsburgh's very foundations.
Sure, an uprise in evil always seemed to need its opposite, someone willing to do right when everyone made doing wrong look good.
But what everyone missed through headlines and dark web searches was that Jack Abbot left the Pitt and the Batman rose one day later from the shadows. And you concluded that they could only be one and the same.