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The first thing Bruce noticed when he began his night was the thick layer of fog that trenched anything falling below the tips of the tallest buildings. It made the lights of the city, which were usually pinpointed and sharp, to turn into amorphous stretches of light that fractured in the distance and lit up every street with streaks of colour. It looked almost as if the city was underwater with the glow from the windows in the dark towers looming on either side of the road being the only way to know if anyone was even alive.
And with every citizen that pursued their ‘hobbies’ after dark using the fog as early cover for their mischief and misdeeds, Gotham certainly was alive tonight.
Bruce didn’t hesitate when he finally saw his opening after waiting for several long minutes, and he was diving over the ledge of the skyscraper in a single smooth movement that had him appearing more as a shadow slinking down several stories of skyscraper than a man gliding on a cape.
After several stories his HUD told him he was approaching the street and he broke his position to straighten himself out and shoot a grapple at a nearby wall, swinging with it to slow all the excess speed he had built up descending stories until he could release his hold into a controllable leap onto the top of an armoured car.
He landed as quietly as one could with thick boots on thin metal, but even if he had been loud, the shouting he heard coming from inside would have ensured no one heard him. He picked off the red and blue flashing light he had earlier shot onto the roof of the car. People always scanned for trackers but sometimes it was the dumbest solution like a small flashing light that worked the best for hunting people down, and especially with tonight’s conditions Bruce needed something to help him cut through the thick weather.
He waited silently as they went, laid down flat over the roof as they flew erratically down the city roads. They hadn’t stopped arguing the whole way, and it was likely why the driver was so loose and unforgiving with how he drove through the streets. Eventually they slowed as they pulled into a lot, driving across empty parking spots towards the back and creeping around the buildings towards the loading dock of a warehouse. Why was it always a warehouse.
Bruce held still as they opened up the truck and the arguing changed quickly to quiet annoyed jabs as they worked together to unload the truck of several boxes and crates. A no nonsense voice joined the cacophony of the disgruntled grunts working, and Bruce made sure that he wouldn’t be seen as the man descended a set of stairs to approach them. “You’re late. Again.”
That would be due to Bruce’s involvement. The initial plan he had learned of had been set for the truck to drop off a portion of it’s load at several locations across Gotham, but Bruce had ensured every single port the truck was supposed to stop by was covered by at least one member of the bats before the truck had even hit the streets. That forced the truck to deliver to the only person who wasn’t currently occupied, and after some motivation from the Batman, they led Bruce right to the man he needed to pin everything together.
The room fell silent besides the sounds of footsteps shuffling and boxes thudding onto the ground. One of the men, the driver, bravely responded as he helped unload the truck. “Ran into the bats. Had to take some time to ditch him- lost him somewhere in Burnley ‘cause of the fog.”
The man was moody, and unimpressed. “Pick it up, then. We need to go fast, I’m not taking any chances. Sort this and get it to South within the hour, and keep Maddison in the loop. I won't be back for a few hours so we’ll talk back at my office. Don’t busy yourself.”
If Bruce were interested in the boxes of files they had, he would drop down and restrain all of them right now- but one of the perks of working in a team was that Bruce could focus on the no nonsense leader and still be comfortable knowing Tim was busy nailing each of these goons on their own separate charges. They could leave the warehouse with the files, but neither were lost.
The truck was closed back up, and no nonsense climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Bruce had to wait almost an hour on the roof. Normally Bruce would appreciate a moment of downtime between fights, but he had spent a long chunk of time focused on the streets for the truck to zoom by that he felt primed for a fight he knew he likely would not be able to enjoy for long based on the looks of the wiry man.
Eventually, they pulled through the lavish gates of a beach side mansion, and Bruce noticed when no nonsense oddly had backed the truck into the (decorative and loungey) garage rather than park from the front.
The reason Bruce was here was he suspected that the large-scale blackmail operation was a red herring, designed to capture their attention then lose them as the true scheme laid behind it- and so far his theory was proving to be correct. Everything down to the isolated playboy mansion Bruce initially theorized he had.
Bruce was left in the garage, the main door still open and the trunk of the van left wide open as the man trudged into his house without even shedding his wet jacket and boots on the bench just beside the door. He knew he would be back.
All Bruce had to do was wait, and eventually the door to the house opened again as no nonsense manhandled a panicking woman down the stairs. She was wearing little clothing, and what she did wear didn’t help with her modesty at all. It was clear to Bruce what was happening the moment he heard the woman, and considering no nonsense was stupid enough to do this without backup Bruce revealed himself via a batarang embedding into the man’s calf just moments before his foot made contact with the next step.
His legs buckled below him at the same time that he cried out in pain and alarm, and Bruce rolled off the truck top, closing the distance quickly between all three of them to catch the woman as she fell- set off balance by her fallen attacker. He let the man hit the floor with a thud, still whining and clutching his calf as he struggled with his free hand to draw the gun trapped at his backside with his body weight.
Bruce shoved the woman behind the car as gently as he could while still having time to turn his back to the man in time to deflect the bullet that rang out loudly in the garage. His cape was mostly bulletproof, and the armour on his back was much stronger than his front so he often preferred to try and catch as many stray bullets there when he didn’t have time to shield himself properly. He glanced over to the woman while he was turned around, quickly ensuring that she was still safe- if not terrified.
He returned his full focus to the man and flicked his cape out to the side of him, catching no nonsense across the face with the heavy blade ends. The weight of it along with the sharpened metal edges sliced across his face, and he howled as he threw himself backwards out of the attack position he had started to rise in while Bruce was turned.
By the time Bruce was on him, he was already on his back with his unarmed hands held out in front of his face to distance himself from Bruce. The fight was over- they both knew it.
Bruce could hear the woman behind them still breathing heavily, likely from adrenaline, and he couldn’t help but taunt the man below him a little. “It’s going to take you more than a few hours to get back to your gang.”
No nonsense stupidly tried to throw another punch, probably so adrenalized he didn’t fully take in their situation, and Bruce got the satisfaction of breaking his nose and splitting his lip. He let him recover for a few moments before turning him on his stomach and restraining his arms tightly behind his back, then doing the same for his ankles.
Bruce still had to search his house before he alerted GCPD, so he took the extra precaution to tie his legs and wrists together behind his back. He’d leave him in the garage for now.
Bruce raised back up and turned towards the woman who had now stood from behind the truck. He used the car as an obstruction to shield everything but her face, and now that her attacker was restrained Bruce could see the confidence return to her. He slid his cape off his shoulders and handed it to her it across the hood of the car.
She accepted it without fuss, and stepped out from behind the truck. She didn’t look scared anymore, just angry as she watched no nonsense sniffle on the floor. Bruce let her adjust, in no rush to close this case and not wanting to startle her given the obviously traumatic situation she had just been in.
“How can I help?” But Gotham always surprised him.
Bruce took a moment to look at her, to assess how he might need to help her through this, but could only recognize the look in her eyes as the look in his own. “His office. Anywhere he would hide information.”
She nodded, her eyes glancing down in disgust to no nonsense. “Anything to make sure this prick stays away.”
“He will.”
She nodded, comforted by his confident assurance and led him back up the stairs without a word. He could see her stance wobble as she started to move, but didn’t comment on her body’s shaky reaction to coming down from the adrenaline. She may be nervous, but she was strong- that much was obvious.
“What’s your name?” Bruce wasn’t one for small talk, yet whenever he put on his suit and went out he was almost unable to stop himself from leveling with people. He needed her name for his reports, of course, but he found himself wanting to ask simply to know.
“What’s yours?” She butt back a little irritated, but Bruce could hear the defensiveness behind it. He let her be, and eventually her tension eased slightly. “I just want him to go to Arkham. I don't want to be a part of it.”
Bruce understood, so he didn’t push her. Investigations were obstructive, and if he found what he was almost positive was in the man's offices, even without her Bruce would have enough to send no nonsense to prison for years.
She led him past several rooms in the mansion until they were in his office. It wasn’t ornate or even remotely organized, and looking at the mountains of paperwork strewn about intermixed with personal notes and junk mail- he knew this was going to take a while.
“He never let us in here,” she murmured, kicking a small stack of books on the floor over. The rest of the mansion had been spotless, and Bruce could connect the dots enough to know she, and whoever else he held here, had been in charge of cleaning his house. He didn’t seem capable of it himself, judging by this office.
“You want help going through it?” Bruce glanced back over to her, surprised that she would willingly offer spending more time in the mansion than she had to. “Not like I had any plans for tonight anyway.”
Bruce could feel himself smiling a little, and her motivation to put the sex trafficker in jail endeared her to him. It reminded him of his own kids- who, speaking of, would be great candidates for this task.
Either way, this woman needed to leave soon. “GCPD will be here soon. You should go home.”
She laughed dryly, and Bruce could guess how his words were insensitive even before she confirmed. “Where is home, these days?”
“Somewhere safe. I can help you find that.”
Bruce had resources for cases like this- homeless shelters that actually helped, mental health programs that he funded through Wayne industries, and even safehouses set up with enough safeguards to be his own personalized witness protection. Whatever she needed to heal from this, Bruce would be able to give her.
She studied him, not exactly with mistrust but uncertainty. Bruce was glad his reputation preceded him, or her trust in him would be little to none. She nodded, and Bruce let her lead him back out of the office towards the front of the house.
“Almost caught up, B- two minutes out, tops.” Dick’s voice crackled through his earpiece as they left the warmth of the heated house into the chilly night. Without his cape, Bruce could feel the strong wind through the breathable and bendable parts of his suit, and it was a nice temperature change from the heat he normally carried being wrapped up in the fabric all night.
“I just want safe to be real.” She talked, leaning on the railing of the deck facing out into the yard and large driveway. Bruce knew what she meant even without her having to elaborate. Safe was hard, sometimes harder than danger.
Bruce knew what he needed to do when he was at risk, or when the people he loved were at risk. But when things were supposed to be safe, when there was no way you could have expected something and it happens anyway, a piece of what makes safety safe shatters.
Safe wasn’t something you could be, it was something you had to fight for. He didn’t think he needed to tell her that.
“It can be. If we make it.”
“You can make anything happen, Batman. We aren’t all the same.”
“No,” but they weren’t all that different either. “but we all want the same thing.”
“Safety?”
“Security.” The headlights of Dick’s car shone over the hill down at the end of the driveway. Their conversation would come to a close soon, and Dick would drive her wherever in the city she needed to go. “So that if safety fails us we won’t be alone.”
She looked away, wrapping herself tighter in his large draping cloak. She wasn’t shivering; Bruce knew firsthand how warm his cape was. She didn’t look at him as Dick pulled up in the Batmobile. “Thank you.”
He never knew how to explain that he should be thanking them, that he had the easy part. Bruce had years of this under his belt, separating the strings that knotted together to hide the crime in Gotham was as second nature to him as breathing. The people like her had the hard part, were the ones who had to endure all the horror Gotham spit on its people.
He bowed his head for a moment, and watched as she turned and walked down the stairs towards Dick. She smiled at him, the first smile she had given him that night, while she ducked into the passenger's seat of the Batmobile, and Bruce lost sight of her behind the heavily tinted glass as they drove away.