Scared of the Dark || Damian Wayne x OC

16: tears

I wasn't thinking about what I did next.

I ran out of the school as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn't want to be around anyone anymore, I had ruined my life and there was nothing i could do about it.

I couldn't face the stares that everyone was giving me. I couldn't live with the fact that everyone knew who I once was. Who I technically still was. It had only been a few months since my last mission, after all. Since the last time I took a life.

I ended up in the park near central avenue. It was right in the middle of Gotham City, amidst all the fancy towers and expensive stores. The park was larger than I'd expected, with an artificial river flowing through the middle of it.

The trees were almost bare of leaves. Autumn had officially began, and I felt the crunch of it beneath my shoes. It was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon and still relatively light, thought we all know how early the sun sets when the year starts to near winter.

I was probably stupid for running into the city like this — no phone, no bag, no money, no nothing. And I was only a little girl, admittedly. Gotham was never safe for little girls.

But I had my training on my side, plus my impulsive, reckless decision to run a couple miles like a madwoman all the way into the center of the city. Slade had always said my impulsive personality would get me killed some day. He was probably right.

I ended up on the top of a random apartment complex ten minutes later. I had made my way through alleyways and then climbed up the fire escapes. I had no clue why I was standing so close to the concrete ledge of the building, but here I was, contemplating suicide.

Of course I'd never actually do it though. Right? No. No, I couldn't. I couldn't take this second chance at life for granted. What was the use of me getting this amazing foster family and living in a fucking mansion if I was just going to kill myself?

I was so stupid.

So I stepped away from the ledge. It took me longer than I'd thought, to get my brain to tell me to move away. It was concerning, truthfully, but I pushed the thought aside. I was fine. I was always fine. Nothing was wrong with me.

It was weird when Damian eventually found me jumping down from the fire escape. I landed on a dumpster and pushed myself off to the floor, only to be met by his cold face and hard eyes.

It was awkward, to say the least. How had he found me? Had he heard about Flynn and I's little episode just hours earlier? Plus, why was he alone in the city at night?

Most importantly, though: why did he even bother to look for me?

"I know what happened," Damian simply stated, expression not faultering once. I felt my heart beat pick up a little, and little beads of sweat fell down my neck.

"Yeah?" I began, stepping away from the disgusting dumpster. "Well, I'm a fucking idiot."

He had his hands in his hoodie pockets, and although this hood fell over most of his face, I still saw the small glint of humor in his eyes.

"I mean, maybe a little."

I might have laughed in any other circumstance. But not today. Not after I'd just seriously considered committing suicide. Like, just then.

Walking past Damian while running my hands over my shivering arms, I replied, "Thank you, sincerely. I really appreciate that."