A/N: Guys, I'm gonna be honest with you here... I have no idea where this fic came from. It's definitely different from anything else I've ever written. Normally, I like to write things tongue-in-cheek; even if something bad happens, I like to put a bit of humor in to ease things along. This fic is not like that. So, yeah. Be prepared.
I honestly have no idea how I did on this fic because I've never written angst before; I would really appreciate a review telling me how I did!
He doesn't notice her, not at first. He's taken this route home so many times he knows it like the back of his gloved hand, but this time it's different. This time, she's there.
She's perched on the edge of the apartment building's roof, knees drawn up to her chin, staring off at the sun setting in the distance. He wonders if he's swung past her before without realizing it. He touches down on the roof behind her, not making a sound.
She looks like she's been crying; tear tracks glisten under red, puffy eyes. She raises an arm to dry them on the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt she's wearing to ward off the late October chill. He pulls off his mask, wanting to get an uninhibited view of her. She doesn't seem to notice him staring at her.
He walks over and sits next to her, drawing his knees up to his chin as well. She looks over but doesn't say anything.
There they sit, watching the sun go lower in the sky until it's hidden behind the skyscrapers and apartment blocks.
ooOOoo
It becomes a bit of a habit, watching the sunset on the rooftop with her. He stops by every night after patrol to sit with her. He never says a word and neither does she.
Once in a while, after a long day, he'll land on her rooftop covered in cuts and bruises, wincing with every step he takes. She'll stand when she sees him and help him to the edge of the roof where they'll sit for a while, just basking in each other's company.
He grows to cherish this time of day, the time when he can let go of his fears and his worries and just be himself. He never has to pretend around her.
Over the next few weeks, she becomes thinner, paler. She seems tired all the time. He doesn't have the heart to ask what's wrong, though he has an idea.
He brings her food sometimes. They'll munch on a sandwich he bought at the corner deli while they wait for the last bits of daylight to go to sleep for the night.
Sometimes she looks like she wants to say something, but she never does.
Today, she's resting her head on his shoulder, exhausted. She's crying again, softly. He puts his arm around her.
Still, neither of them speak.
ooOOoo
He lands on her rooftop on a cold December night and sits down to wait for her.
She never comes.
She's never missed a day before. He's worried something might have happened to her. He returns the next night, and the night after that.
Still, she never shows.
He's on patrol today, wondering if he should continue visiting the rooftop, when he spies her face on the forgotten page of a newspaper, blowing around in the wind.
He snatches it up, skimming through the article. He drops the page in shock.
Without another word, he takes off.
ooOOoo
He's watching her through the window of her hospital room. She's asleep, breathing softly. The heart rate monitor next to her beeps rhythmically.
Doctors and nurses periodically enter the room to check on her. They're always frowning and shaking their heads. One nurse looked like she may cry.
He wonders if she'll ever wake up.
ooOOoo
The next day, her hospital room is empty. He swings to the roof of her apartment block, hoping beyond hope that he'll see her there.
Snow starts to fall.
The rooftop is empty, save for another forgotten newspaper. He opens it, hands shaking, to the back page.
He sees her name.
He wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to know why something like this had to happen to someone like her.
But he does nothing.
Instead, he sits, alone on the rooftop, knees pulled up to his chin, watching the sunset.