ANGELS WEEP || bruce wayne

the fifteenth

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Bruce was being tortured.

He kept up with Stacey as she walked into the night, silently chiding her for doing the one thing he told her not to- walk around Gotham at night. He slid across the rooftops like ink over parchment, black liquid against the dark brushstrokes of the night sky. The stars weren't visible: only the large, red moon and it's hazy glow competing with the streetlights for attention. He avoided those, keeping to the shadows and the dark nooks of Gotham where he wouldn't be seen by her or by anyone else.

It was in this darkness that he felt safe, like there was this big, black blanket billowing over him and hiding him from the monsters under his bed, the demons that plagued his sleep. His sleep had somehow gotten even worse since he was told that Stacey had come back. With the arrival of the sun on horizon he couldn't watch over her in that encompassing blanket of darkness. It drove him mad.

She turned the corner away from the Iceberg Lounge and Bruce followed, noting three people that looked at her retreat with interest. If they became a problem, there was be no hesitation in how fast his fists would fly. With the Riddler loose and the mayor dead, he was on his toes.

"Maroni!" A man lurched forward and Bruce followed the forward motion, perching at the edge of the balcony above them, but the man simply shook Stacey's hand, offering a business card that was subsequently shoved into an already-full pocket.

She thanked him and moved on, Batman melting back into the shadows. He was on edge tonight; and after the card signed to him, the missing murder weapon, and the fact that Gordon had pulled him in to an active investigation, he just wanted to make sure that Tacey was safe. Stacey Maroni was easy, she was wit and humor and someone that knew his past. She was the thing that defined Bruce, that kept his alter-ego from bleeding into his life. Bruce could loved Tacey, but Batman couldn't.

It was borderline obsession. And he hadn't talked to her in seven days.

Torture.

Something buzzed in his pocket and he dug it out, putting the burner phone up to his ear.

"I'm, uh, I have a favor to ask."

Bruce swept himself off the roof to land in front of her, moving forward to place his glove over her mouth to stifle the scream that followed at his abrupt entrance.

Stacey took a step back, swatting at his hand. "Ick, gross! Do you know where that's been? Do I wanna know where that's been?"

Bruce sheepishly wiped his glove off on his suit. "Uh, probably not."

Stacey huffed and started forward, Batman falling into step beside her.

"You didn't apologize for frightening me, yet."

"I'm sorry."

"How long have you been following me?"

"Since you left the Iceberg."

"So you don't know why I went in?"

"No."

"You were there earlier tonight, weren't you?"

Batman paused, and Stacey stumbled, Bruce sticking out an arm to catch her before she landed face-first on the filthy asphalt.

"How did you know that."

He was so close to her. He could feel her breath on his cheek, could see her eyelashs fluttering over warm gray eyes, her lips pursed at his cold tone. He had meant it as a question, but in his worry, it had come out as a cold, concrete interrogation.

She leaned into him, winding her arms around his neck and facing him head-on. "You tell me first."

He froze, staring at her lips with icy blue eyes, watching her speak. They quirked into a teasing smile, opening once again to say: "You tell me, I'll tell you. È giusto."

"Say that again." He murmured, dipping his head to press his cheek to her's.

Stacey giggled. "È giusto. It's only fair, Batman." She dropped a kiss onto his cheek and unfurled herself from his grip, making her way down the sidewalk as Bruce stood in shocked silence.

"Wait-" he lurched forward once again to follow her. "It's almost morning. I... I want to show you something."

"Show me something?" She asked, surrendering her lead to allow him to pull her along behind him.

They turned a corner and Stacey let out a sound of surprise as she was picked up and set on a motorcycle, a helmet slipped into her hands.

"Hold on."

Bruce hopped into the front of it and revved it up, waiting until he felt Stacey's hands hook onto his belt before speeding off into the night.

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