C҉R҉O҉W҉ | ᴍᴄᴜ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I I - 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍.

THE TUMBLER RUMBLED with the deep vibrations of its engine, filling the silence between the two vigilantes as they sped through the darkened streets of Gotham. Outside, the city rushed by in a blur of flickering neon signs.

On every corner, shadowed alleyways, and the occasional flash of blue and red from police cruisers. Rain, ever-present in Gotham, streaked the windows in diagonal lines.

The Crow sat quietly in the passenger seat, his eyes catching the glow of the Bat-Signal as it pierced the night sky above them. He turned his head slightly, breaking the silence.

"Why do we need to brief the Commissioner?" He asked, "There was a swarm of his men awhile ago. Did they not pick up what we saw?"

Batman didn't respond immediately.

His grip on the steering wheel was firm, eyes locked on the road ahead as the Tumbler maneuvered through Gotham's twisted streets. After a beat, he spoke, his voice gravelly, almost detached.

"The cops in Gotham. . ." He paused, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone, "They miss things. Careless. They don't see what's right in front of them. I don't know if you even realized it but that body should have had an autopsy report by now. Instead, it's still there."

The Crow glanced at Batman. The city felt alive but in a way that resembled a slow death. An infection spreading through its veins.

"I've noticed." The Crow replied, his eyes narrowing as they passed a cluster of graffiti-tagged buildings, "The streets here feel. . .numb. As if no one cares anymore."

"They've stopped caring because they've stopped believing." Batman's eyes flicked toward him briefly before returning to the road, "Gotham wears you down. It makes you believe nothing can change."

"Hopelessness." The Crow muttered, his gaze distant.

There was a stretch of silence again. The rain picked up, pounding against the roof of the Tumbler.

"You ever notice when crime happens, no one yells for help?" Batman said, breaking the silence, "You yell help in this city and no one comes. But if you yell fire, people show up."

The Crow let out a low, humorless chuckle, "That says a lot about this place."

"Gotham's been rotting for a long time." Batman said with an anger, though not directed at Y/N, "Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it's never enough."

The Crow leaned back in his seat, his eyes still trained on the city.

"I get that. It's like the filth just seeps into every crack, every corner. You can fight it, try to clean it up, but it always comes back."