batwomans_gotham | Can't run from me.....

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Can't run from me.....

She smiled, anticipating the moment.

The scientist was fleeing, but Katalyn was in front of him, not behind. He didn't see her because he was focused on the falling shadow of the Batman.

Sticking out her foot from the shadows she smiled, satisfied when he crashed to the alleyway with a yelp.

"You'd think a genius would have some sort of aircraft on his rooftop," she shook her head, muttering as she went to the fallen man as she coughed. "I mean please. Running from a Bat on foot is just stupid."

She reached down and grabbed his gun, trigged her left claw and sliced through it, then chucked it. "Hold still. The Bat's a second away," she laughed softly, golden eyes gleaming as she put a foot on the back of his neck. He made some muffled growl, but she only rolled her eyes, then looked up, grinning.

"Hey. There you are," she said. This was a good night. A very, good night.

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He looked up through tear-blurred eyes, managing a nod, trying to contain his hiccups. A vague part of him remembered that this was highly embarrassing but the built up emotion had been suppressed too long and he buried his face in her clothes again.

She put an arm around him, staring in shock, then looked at the little girl as she squeaked with pain and fear, and then scooped both up and took them into the clinic, bolting the door behind her before she took them to a room, setting the little girl on the table and then stroking Bruce's hair.

"It'll be alright, Bruce, easy there," she said gently. "Can you tell me who your friend is? And what happened to you?"

He felt really embarrased now the he had broken down, and sniffled a lot before he could get his hiccups under control and speak properly. He hadn't cried like this, since...well, then. He felt like he was back there, in that nightmare, with Leslie calming him down again. Except he was in a Batsuit. So maybe this was some kind of nightmare...

"This guy...umm...a scientist. And...it exploded. The thing, I mean." He sniffled, rubbing his eyes to get the stupid tears out. Even though it was masked by a little kid's voice, the words were mature. "And it's all my fault. Everything, all of this, is all my fault. She got hurt cause of me. It's always my fault, I should have gotten the broken arm, not her."

"A scientist," she said, shaking her head, then slowly feeling the little girl's arm. "Oh dear, that's a bad break... please, Bruce, it will be alright, but I need to set her arm soon or it will never function properly again."

She hated being unable to comfot him, but the arm had to be set and both children looked over for other problems. "Who hurt you?"

He let go of her reluctantly, more sheepish now that he had relatively calmed himself. He shrugged, coughing, trying to put that random breakdown behind him.

"Uh, Nightlife knows." He had enough sense to give Katalyn the courtesy of her name not being revealed if she didn't want it to. "They were a gang, I didn't recognize them and I've never seen them before in patrol. I suppose I haven't looked underground enough, but as soon as I get back, I'll surely look into it." A tiny frown, he really sounded like his older self except with someone warping the timbre of his voice. He folded his arms, he had gone on long enough in his life without people comforting him (or able to receive the comfort, even if the effort had been there).

"Now Bruce, don't be like that," Leslie said softly, knowing the look all too well as she bandaged the girl's arm. Then she blinked and looked at the girl closer. "This isn't that Nightlife, is it?"

He frowned again, but answered the question slightly sullenly. "What other Nightlife would there be?"

"I don't know, Bruce, I've only seen her handiwork," she said gently.

"Well, that's her, then." He said slightly petulantly, pulling his mask back down over his face. "I just know that we have to find this scientist guy or whatever, and find him now. I can't stay like this for long."

"Yes..." she said, then blinked as the "passed out" girl stirred, then apparently attempted to squirm away from Bruce.

"Miss Nightlife, are you awake?" she frowned. Katalyn whimpered, and tried to roll away.

"Is she okay?" he bit his lip, peering at Katalyn a little closely. He did indeed feel quite responsible and guilt was just eating away at him inside. More mad at himself for her getting physically injured rather than scaring the life out of her. "You okay?"

"Leave me alone," she sobbed, then looked up at the doctor, who she knew quite well. "He wouldn't just leave. He wanted to take on all the pipe gangs and he wouldn't listen to me. If they hadn't been in a good mood they would've done stuff to me n' killed him, and he never listens! He doesn't get it Dr. Leslie!"

"Shh," Leslie picked up the girl, knowing when a child needed comfort. She looked at Bruce. "Is that true?"

He looked sheepish for a moment, a rare sight to see from him. Then he sucked in a lot of air and protested, trying to reason out what he did.

"Look, I miscalculated, okay? I admit it. I just don't want to see those pipe gangs keep bothering people. If I had only been bigger, I woulda gotten to them! I coulda gotten to them now, but I'm not used to moving around in this body."

"See? I told you, I told you he doesn't get it," Katalyn burried her face in the front of Leslie's shirt.

"Bruce," Leslie sighed, shaking her head. "I know you. You know better than that. Nightlife was correct, you two are very, very lucky to be alive. I've seen what happens to the children those monsters down there get a hold of. Now, will you please promise me that you two will lay off the crime fighting until you get big again? It's simply too difficult to know whether or not you can handle yourself against such a larger opponent."

He scowled, even though he both knew they were right. He just didn't like admitting it, especially not to Katalyn. He looked up at Leslie with slightly pleading eyes.

"You don't understand. Someone has to take care of Gotham. With Batwoman down...and my Gotham too. I can't stop. I can't.." He didn't trust that Hunter kid, and Robin couldn't be in both places at once either, and Spoiler probably couldn't take care of it all herself and she couldn't go back to his Gotham.

"Bruce," Leslie frowned deeply. "Look at what's happened already. I know it will be hard for you, but if you try to fight the evil of Gotham now you could be killed. Then we would loose you for good. Gotham has survived without a Batwoman for a while; albiet not in the best way, but it has. And it will survive a little while longer while you get your old body back. But I really must insist you stop for the time being."

He looked a little upset again, his face looked almost like he was going to cry. But no, he steeled himself up and then he looked simply resigned.

"Fine. Whatever." It showed his respect for Leslie, as it was probably only her or Alfred that could possibly convince him to do such.

She sighed.

"You can be wrong sometimes you know, you don't always have to be correct about everything. Even heros aren't heros all the time," she said, softly.

"I have to be," he said just as quietly, looking past her. "I can't afford not to be one."

"That's silly. Nobody's perfect. You would give up so much in pursuit of a goal you cannot achieve," she shook her head, looking at him, holding out her hand to him. "Bruce, listen, please. Life is imperfection. Nothing would exist if something hadn't gone wrong. And I fear for you, you and Brenda, and an of the Batpeople out there. This inquenchable thirst to be perfect is blinding you to the fact that you're missing out on so much... so much that could help you in the long run."

"I know I can't achieve that goal, but I do it anyway. It's a never-ending battle, I know that. But that's just the thing. It's never-ending. Them, out there? They won't stop, just because I had a little setback. Because Brenda had a little setback. This is just what they're waiting for." He clenched his little fists, sounding much older than he looked.

"I don't care about what I'm missing out. I've missed out on everything else that I should have had anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. I do what I do to help others so they won't have to miss out on what I lost."

She put a hand on his shoulder, then nodded towards Katalyn, who'd passed out.

"Look at her, Bruce," she said softly. "She's a little girl, was once a young woman. And she looks up to you. She wants to help you, but in your pursuit of self perfection you would have her locked away as a vigilantee, wouldn't you? Brenda would. Because she's not perfect, and does not try to be.

"The problem with you and Brenda is that you see only one path, and are so set on sticking to it that anything else becomes intollerable, criminal. You may always strive to achieve perfection, and as a hero you should, but if you block out everything else you'll miss valuable opportunities that could benifit everybody and bring you that much closer. You are not only the Batman, any more than Brenda is only Batwoman. You have a life, under that cowl, and it would not be impossible to have aspects of that life that are also intergrated with your dream of peace."

He looked down while she spoke, listening to what she said instead of scoffing it off as someone who didn't understand his life like he usually did. She understood more than anyone save Alfred.

"I made a vow, Leslie. I have to keep it." It wasn't a protest, it was just a comment.

"I know," she said gently. "And my personal beliefs aside... you can't bring peace unless you have peace within yourself. Nobody can. And you've never had that on your own. Neither has Brenda. Please understand, I'm not telling you to put aside your mission, but that doesn't mean you can't look into helping yourself. I think it would reflect positively on your work as the Batman."

He nodded once then stared at the floor, not sure what to say next. It felt like he was being reprimanded, but not really. He knew she only did it because she cared...about Brenda, but at least it ricocheted and went to him. If he had been older, he would have gone outside to brood and sit on the roof like a gargoyle. Instead he sat up on a counter and kicked his legs against the wood.

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