ANGELS WEEP || bruce wayne

the fifth

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The mud moved around them as they struggled to support the sopping wet vigilante, wading through the rising canal to try to find a foothold. Stacey almost slipped but she caught herself on her knees. She gripped the arm that she had slug around her tighter, holding onto the heavily armored creature of the night.

"Ready?" She yelled over to Lorenzo on the opposite side of him. "One, two, three!"

On three, they both heaved themselves forward, struggling through the slick mud of the bank and onto the concrete in front of them. They both breathed heavily but didn't stop, dragging the unconcious man through the city, lurking in the shadows and avoiding people to try to avoid drawing attention to themselves.

By some miracle they made it to Stacey's doorstep. They stood on the porch a moment in the rain, catching their breath and rinsing themselves off. The mud and dirt travelled down the stairs in a mini waterfall, mixing with the water droplets until it ran clear.

Stacey surged forward, precariously balancing the vigilante's form over her shoulders as she unlocked the door. She pushed it open and followed Lorenzo in, shimmying herself through the doorframe so that the ears of his helmet didn't clip the wood.

Lorenzo made a motion to throw him onto the chair but Stacey stopped him, gesturing upwards. "Bring him to the bathroom."

He nodded, grunting with effort as they made their way up the stairs.

They both gently lowered him onto the floor of the sea foam colored bathroom and surveyed their work. The giant black-costumed man made the bathroom look tiny, but fortunately there was just enough space to kneel down next to him.

Stacey huffed, and looked at Lorenzo. "Holy fuck, we did it."

He nodded, continuing to heave in huge breaths. "What... what now?"

"I'll take tomorrow off. You should get home."

He looked at her incredulously. "What? You want me to leave you alone with a highly dangerous individual? You want me to leave with that on my conscious?"

"Yes." Stacey answered, looking down at the vigilante on her floor and back up at Lorenzo expectantly. "He's critically injured. And doesn't he only hurt criminals? He helped with that one police investigation."

Lorenzo rolled his eyes. "This is on you, Stace, if anything goes wrong."

"It won't." Stacey answered firmly, mentally cringing at the nickname but not correcting him. Stace was better than Tacey. Two people had called her Tacey in her life, and she didn't want to remember either.

"And it's Dr. Mar to you!" She called out as he left, unable to stop herself.

Her brief smile turned to a look of concern as she stood at the doorway of the bathroom, surveying the vigilante on her bathroom floor. She hadn't had a chance to really look at him before due to the pouring rain and mud coating everything, but now she knelt down beside him and got a good look at his helmet, his jawline, the rest of his body. Thick segments of armour bisected by a large symbol in the center of his chest; the bat that offered his namesake. His body was laying face up, his steady breathing the only sound in the room.

He twitched slightly and Stacey immediately went into Doctor Mode, kicking herself for wasting so much time in surveying the man bleeding out on her bathroom floor instead of attending to him. She checked his pulse again, counting it. Weak, but stronger than before.

She followed the pool of blood to its source. A nasty cut was at his side, in between the chinks of armour. The fabric was melted into it, preventing her from getting a closer look. She took a mental note of it and checked the rest of his body for other life-threatening wounds, but besides some cuts and bruising, she didn't find any major trauma.