Queen Cobra (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

Chapter Three

I had been wandering aimlessly through the streets for nearly an hour, stuck in a whirlwind of thoughts, when a black car pulled up to the corner I was standing at.

"(Y/N), I need to take you home." I looked up to face detective Gordon, his face flushed from the dreary February weather. Nobody was with him.

I turned to walk away but he moved in front of me. "I'm already having a bad day, detective. Please don't make it any worse by dragging me back there to explain myself." I subconsciously rubbed the back of my hand where the stain of blood was still visible. There was no way they would understand. I could hardly even comprehend my situation, how could I possibly explain what happened?

"I will take care of that, I promise."

I looked up and stared into his eyes. "You seem to make a lot of promises. Do you ever keep them all?" I wasn't sure where my words were coming from, but I guess I was trying to distract myself from my inevitable return to Wayne Manor.

"I try."

I lifted my eyebrows.

"So, lemme guess, you're just gonna tell them that I was in shock from Jerome's attack? Do you seriously think that'll stop Bruce from trying to figure out what the hell happened to me?!" I was getting angry at myself, at my father, at the world for putting me through this. A tremor of fury shot through my body and detective Gordon grabbed my shoulder before I could do anything irrational.

"Take deep breaths, I will take care of Bruce and Alfred, it won't be an issue. You have to trust me," he softened his gaze on me and in that moment I felt silly for being out in the cold with nothing but a fancy dress and shoes. I shook my head, my (h/c) hair swaying with the movement.

"Just take me home." There was really no point in fighting, he would take me regardless of if I wanted to or not. I knew that from the start.

I quickly pulled myself together and hopped into the passenger seat of his car, being sure to not touch anything. I tucked my once injured right hand out of view.

As he began to drive off, I broke the silence in the car with a simple question. "What happened to Jerome?"

Detective Gordon was silent for a moment before he responded,"Theo Galavan stabbed him in the neck, he died almost instantly."

Well at least there wasn't much to worry about when it came to psychopathic escapees. Now my biggest fear was a billionaire boy and his butler.

~•~

Detective Gordon kept his promise.

I honestly didn't believe I would be able to make it to my room without a barrage of questions, but all I got was an anguished look from Bruce.

It had taken everything in me to not wrap my arms around him and never let go. I was scared, but I couldn't let him know that. I couldn't hurt him more than I already had.

I shoved my face into my squishy pillows, blocking out the dim light coming through my giant window. I pulled the covers over my head as someone knocked at my bedroom door. I could hear Bruce from the other side,"(Y/N)?"

I didn't respond, but instead burrowed myself deeper into my thick sheets. It was too late for this. "(Y/N), I know you're in there." With that, he shoved open the door and walked over to the pile of cushions that I was hiding in. He sat down.

"I-I'm sorry about what happened at the benefit tonight. If I had known that would've happened I wouldn't have ask-" I quickly cut him off.

"How could you have possibly known that was going to happen?" My voice became even more muffled as I shoved my face deeper into my pillow. Bruce gently pulled back the blanket to reveal my pitiful state. I shivered as the cold air of the room hit my skin. "Put it back, Bruce," I mumbled.

He pulled it back over my bare shoulders but left my head out in the open. I turned towards him. Only, before anything came out of either of our mouths, I noticed the bandage on his throat. I sat up, reaching to touch it, but his hand intercepted before my fingers could brush the gauze.

His warmth seeped into my cold fingers as he spoke. "I'm fine, I promise." He looked down at the hand he was holding, examining it. "What happened to your cut?"

I yanked my hand back, quickly replying with,"It's fine, I cleaned it up so you can hardly see it." That seemed to subdue him for the time being.

There was a long silence before it was shattered by Bruce's soft voice, "You should get some rest, you've had a long night."

I looked into my lap and my voice was hardly a whisper as I said to him, "You too."

Without a moment to take a breath, I got a face full of t-shirt as Bruce pulled me into a tight embrace. My arms hesitantly wrapped around his thin frame and I pressed my face into his chest.

My heart was racing but I had never felt more at ease. He smelled like Alfred's lavender detergent and old books. I imprinted that smell into my mind, keeping it tucked away for me to have forever and always.

I had no idea how much I would need that.