Batboys x Reader

Resurrected (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

Dick Grayson Pov

I notice Bruce's eyes are narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. I've seen this look in his eyes before, no one can bring him back from this anger. I draw in a deep breath, it is how he shows hatred, dominance and imparts fear in Gotham's criminals. Jokers demented eyes twinkle with sadistic glee. Bruce throws his body weight behind the fist that hits his jaw with such force that blood flies from the Joker's mouth. He wasn't done yet and I'm not sure if I want to stop him this time.

"Where is she?!" Bruce shouts.

"Why do you care? You'll find another girl somewhere, it didn't take you too long to replace the kid." Joker cackles.

His words are repaid by another hit to his jaw. Bruce continues the battering until joker falls to the floor. His chest sharply rises and falls with each shallow breath he draws in. Bruce grasps Jokers head with two hands and slams his knee cap into his nose, there is a blunt crack and Bruce releases his dark green head. Crimson blood leaks from both his nostrils and his nose is twisted to the left.

"Where is she?!" I repeat Bruce's question.

"No need to get your spandex suit in a twist bat-brat, you'll find her...down below." Joker retorts.

"Down below?" I ask.

"Six feet under the ground below," Joker grins.

Without warning, Bruce slams his fist into the Jokers face once more. Bruce tackles him and holds him down so he can't fight back. I seriously doubt he could've anyway as Bruce's fists continue to hit his face. I pull Bruce away and quickly snap my spare handcuffs onto Joker's wrists. He runs his tongue over cracked red lips and staged a face as if he were about to cry.

"She called your name before she went Batsy, just like the kid." He sneers.

"We found her," Jason pauses "He killed her Bruce, Ma's dead."

Bruce Wayne Pov

She's dead, eyes fixed and vacant. I crouch down, one hand over her chest. She's dead. I pick up her hand, so cold and pale, touching it to my wet cheek, closing my eyes for just a moment. In that eternal second, I feel her presence. I struggle to stay in this moment, to keep her close, then, she's gone. Death has never been kind to people like us. I've known that all my life. I've learnt that it doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it just takes and takes and takes. It snatches where it can, people who are far too young, far too good. It doesn't care. 

*A Few Hours Later*

Bruce Wayne Pov

I never got to tell her I loved her one last time. I didn't get to hold her close before she slipped away. I never even got to look into her loving, beautiful face, which brought me so much happiness, before she died. She had been my anchor when I started to drift. She had always been there for me with a smile shining in her (E/C) eyes; now she's gone. My anger slowly dissolves to sadness as tears embrace my eyes. She is gone, her light consumed by death's darkness. All I had left of her is the image in my mind.

I sit at the dining table and stare at the empty space which she used to fill. I feel a tight grip wrapped around my chest, it squeezes until it feels as if I can't breathe. I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table, pressing my forehead against my hands. Tears begin to fall, one after another. People say love hurts, but the words used are so vague, "love hurts". No. Love kills, it doesn't just take your breath away. It takes a piece of you, making you a shattered shell of a person. All I've earned from it is bitterness and pain. 

Then I remember. 

Her smile. Her voice. The way she would hum to her favourite song of the month. But now I think of the multiple melodies shes made me listen too I feel empty as if I've lost something. I thought I loved those songs but now it hits me like a wave, I loved those songs because I loved her and now that she's not around to laugh and hum along, I'm left drowning in the ocean of memories that each verse leaves.

"We would do anything to get her back, right?" Jason asks.

"Jason she's dead. We can't get her back." Dick chimes in.

"What Todd is insinuating is correct. We can save (L/N) using one a Lazarus Pit." Damian agrees with Jason.

"We have to be sure about this though. The pit, it ain't for the sensitive of souls."  Jason warns.

"Wait, wait, wait. Is this what (F/N) would have wanted? We already know the pit...it takes something from a person. They don't come back the same, look what it did to Jason." Tim argues.

"I have to agree with Tim, this isn't the smartest idea we've had." Dick sighs.

"Damian, Jason get your gear, you're coming with me. Dick, Tim stay back and protect the city while we're gone." I instruct.

Without another word, I get up and leave. I'm going to save (Y/N), even if that means I'll die.

*Hours Later*

(Y/N) Pov

As my eyes open my limbs flex in shock. A scream from deep within me forces its way from my throat as if my terrified soul unleashed a demon. There's liquid around my entire body. Every muscle is stronger than they should be. Water spews out of my coughing, choking mouth. My stomach keeps on contracting violently and forcing everything out. The retching goes on for so long I lose track of time. I blink, blurriness fading, my surroundings clearer. The coldness of the air is more apparent, stealing the little warmth I had before. I want to use all my senses, get a feel for whatever this is, but the chill freezes my skin and the little brain power I can muster. I lurch forward, water splashing with each movement, to find myself in someone's arms. I want to stand but for a moment my legs give way to gravity, shaky, weak.

"I got you, I got you." Bruce murmurs in my ear.

*Weeks Later At Wayne Manor*

(Y/N) Pov

An ominous boom startles me out of an abysmal nightmare. My cheeks are wet and my body is bathed in a cold sweat. The sheets are twisted around my limbs, probably because I was thrashing in my sleep. My heart pounds against my chest. I tremble. The remnants of my nightmare, my death cling to my mind, haunting me. A flash of lightning illuminates the room, I let out a frightened cry and bury her face into my pillow. Even my breaths tremble. I swallow and once again turn to see the endless darkness of my room. I can't see anything. It's as if an invisible hand clasps over my mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces my heart, unloading in an instant. I feel my ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate my lungs. My head is a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing my mind further into blackness. 

Almost in an instant, Bruce is awake and wrapping his arms around me. In his arms I am safe and my panic disappears like rain on summer earth. In that embrace, I am cocooned better than any butterfly-to-be. I bathe in his warmth as the world around me melts away, not wanting the moment to end.

"Please don't leave me," I murmur.

"I told you that I'd never leave you; I'm not going anywhere," Bruce reassures me.

Slowly, inexorably, he presses his lips to mine. It's soft and gentle and maybe there's no fireworks or sparks, but it's better than that – it's a wave of warmth that fills me up. There's a reason love is invisible, undetectable with anything but our minds. We aren't evolved enough to be trusted with it. The only way to understand love is to feel it, embody it, embrace it. I learnt that there is no perfect lover, that we're flawed, but I will never look further than Bruce. I lean forward, resting my forehead on his shoulder.

"I love you," He whispers.

"I know," I giggle.