Feeling The Aster | DC Imagines

too fast, too slow - part four | young justice

warning(s): reader's trauma surfaces and there's a scene in which they suffer from a PTSD episode. read with caution. 

The explosion rung in your ears. It wasn't particularly loud, or cataclysmic. It didn't even shake the ground like you had thought you'd felt. It rung in the way that reminded you of the others you had been witness too. The damage of falling debris and innocent screams of agony flashed in your memory. Joker's laugh always following quickly after as he reveled in the chaos.

You were slower than Batman and Robin as they darted out of the Four-To-Go, memories freezing you in place for a moment too long. You began to run with heavy feet, hopping over blood and dodging plastic bags and canned food. You'd almost reached the door before you felt a hand clamp your wrist, yanking you backwards almost cruelly.

A blink and you saw the wicked red of a painted grin contorting around his grimace. The sharp white of a glove before it made a stinging contact with your face. Another blink and your head snapped back to see the hardened gaze of a GCPD officer reaching for his cuffs.

For a moment, you thought this was finally the day you had moved too slow. You had your fun traipsing around Gotham with the Bats like you were one of them, and now it was time to pay. Until all of a sudden, too fast, the metallic blur of a batarang shocked the cuffs and your arm out of the officer's grasp. You didn't even spare a second. You ran.

You could see the charcoal cloud plume against the muddy nighttime sky far in the distance. It was far. Too far for you to make it on foot and get there in time to make a difference. Your lungs burned preemptively at the thought of you running that far. The heavy feeling of disappointment began to settle in your chest as you weaved between clumps of lingering civilians on the street and darted through dark alleyways. The knowing thought that you would have to sit this one out slowed your pace until you were catching your breath, stationed next to an old water tower overlooking Finger River. Behind the thundering of your heart, you could hear the shrill sound of an alarm system ringing faintly through the air. Defeat tugged a frown at your features, and you slumped against the metal beam behind you. Insecurity plagued your mind; second thoughts like whispering ghosts telling you that you should just give up. Gotham already has her heroes. There was no way you could—

A blur of red flashed in the corner of your vision and you wildly searched around until you focused in on the figure. You sat up, heart aching as you saw Robin trailing Batman just two blocks ahead from where you had given up. A quickshot surge of pride fizzled in your chest at the thought that had you not stopped, you had been keeping up with Batman and Robin in a bout of adrenaline. From rooftops to ally, you watched their silhouettes drop down from out of view and you tore your eyes away. They would have the situation under control. They didn't need you. They never needed you.

A heavy sigh parted your lips. You knew you needed to stop thinking like that. There was only so much you could do, and you needed to remember that. You were only human, after all. You weren't a genius, or a billionaire who could afford tons of fancy gadgets. You had your will to better yourself, your fighting skill, and the determination to prove to everyone—prove to yourself—that you weren't the villain you were forced to become. There were going to be attacks that you wouldn't be equipped to handle, better left for Batman. You couldn't picture yourself ever holding your own against any of the city's Rogues, knowing your skill didn't even come close.

But you knew in your heart that you could make a difference. You knew you would. You could micromanage a section of the city, maybe. Work during the day instead? The exact plan was still being workshopped as you kicked rocks and dust on the ground as you dragged your feet, not knowing exactly where you were going.