. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} spacecowboys) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} rooms, |
[It hadn't entirely been a lie. When the news about Helena had come, when she'd been pushed too far, she'd retreated to lick her wounds. For all her risk-taking, she had a certain knack for survival, and while she pushed herself beyond what normal people would consider healthy? Well, so did everyone. It was, after all, Gotham. And when Ra's sent those hands and tipped her over the edge, what was she supposed to do? Call him? Tell him? Make him stop what he was doing to sit at her side and hold her hand? No, that wasn't her, and it wasn't him, however much she might want it to be. Oh, she was selfish; if she'd needed rescuing? She would've meowed. But he wouldn't have been able to fix this, and what good what it have done? She would've felt better, sure, but Ra's would've gotten away. And that was it. That was what it all boiled down to. They had things to do; he had things to do. Sitting by her bedside? Wasn't one of them. If the doors had been accessible, she would've gone straight to Marvel. Tony, Steve, Robert, they would always take her in, and she knew that with a certainty that she didn't feel about most of Gotham. But she chose a safe alternative, and they were both standing here, mostly in one piece.
And Ra's was captured.
She smiled at his attempt at fake humor, but she didn't have it in her to quip back about the vacation he owed her. He was too close, the words too taut. And then his shoulders shook, and it was only a heartbeat that he had on her with that hug. She wasn't expecting it, all the same. She knew she was going to wrap her arms around him, and then the tables were turned, and she remembered another time. A rooftop, when she had royally fucked this up. But she didn't shove now, didn't try to get him angry. Instead, her arms slid around his shoulders, and she clung, and maybe there was a world of weakness in the shaky break of her breath against his cheek, but she didn't care.] I think I'm supposed to say soothing things about everything being alright. [The words were damp, and even with the exhaustion and bruising her grip was Gotham-tight. She chuckled, wry and an exhale against his cheek.] How about- How about, I'm glad you're here? I'm glad he's locked somewhere? I'm glad Helena has a chance to fight?