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you leave in the morning with everything you own in a little black case alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face Bronski Beat.
you know how it feels. alone. alone. Monogrenade.
━━━━━✧━━━━━
BROOKLYN NATALIE KNEW she was anything but normal, despite all her efforts to feel normal.
Sometimes, she wondered why she still bothered pretending like she was now. She sat in a cab, having arrived in Detroit well in to the evening after impulsively booking a flight earlier that day. For Hera's sake, it was not normal to impulsively book a four-hour flight immediately after fighting with her boyfriend.
She gazed out the window as the cab drove through the streets, which was quiet apart from the cab splashing puddles from the afternoon rain. The streetlights were dim, leaving most of the open shops and neon signs to do most of the illuminating. In the small crevices of darkness was a whip of fabric that landed on a building.
Brooklyn Natalie squinted, wondering if she had seen right. A cape was not normal in Detroit.
Meanwhile, a nearby drug deal had halted, hearing the distinct whoosh of a heavy cape followed by metal clanking. The gang members drew their guns, cautiously inspecting the alleyway they stood in.
"What was that?" One of the men asked.
They heard another whoosh of the cape, and a dark figure landed on the hood of a nearby parked car. The drug dealers turned sharply and clicked the safety off their guns simultaneously, aiming the weapons at the figure.
"Leave the drugs. Leave the guns, and walk away," A male voice growled lowly.
The streetlights illuminated the figure as he stood straighter, revealing a red-and-green armored suit. The cape was lined with a dark, mustard yellow inside, and the drug dealers immediately recognized the costume.
Robin.
"Where's Batman?" One man demanded.
Their instincts shifted quickly. No longer were they concerned with the caped vigilante in front of them. Instead, their guns pointed upward, heads tilted up, and eyes squinted at the rooftops. Silence only followed in the next seconds.
"Little Birdy's alone," Another man snorted, which he quickly regretted.
Robin's face twisted in anger, and he shot his grappling hook at the man who mocked him. The man yelped as he flew through the air and landed on the car's front window. The glass shattered below him.
Before the rest of the men could even shoot, Robin tossed two smoke grenades on the ground, leaving them vulnerable. Some coughed while others attempted to fire blindly. Most of them cried in pain as shurikens pierced their skin, each man getting hit on a different body part.
