Ok, so I was listening to Wings by Cimorelli, and I had this idea! Sorry if the characters seem a bit OOC, it's one of my (many) problems.

"Higher on the bars!" Bruce called, and I looked down, watching my mentor coaching me to be a bit better. Even though I had been doing this for six years (he's fifteen)

I landed on the platform, legs aching, and chest heaving.

"You're done for today. I have to go." And with that, he was gone. Not even a goodbye. Such was the way of Batman, and I had never really gotten over that.

A day later.

I did the triple flip and batarang we had been working seamlessly, but Bruce frowned.

"You left your right side open, and a villain could easily deliver a mortal blow there."

"Bruce it was good! I could use it in a battle and that's what matters right?" I yelled, wiping sweat off my forehead. We had been working on this for five weeks for crying out loud!

"No. Do it again." He said behind his mask, and frustrated, I stomped up to the platform, not bothering to put on my hand wraps.

I leaped off the platform, my sweaty hand sliding and eventually slipping off the bars.

"Bruce!" I screamed. Was I going to die the same way my parents did? Was I going to splatter on the floor? Was I going to-

My thought were cut off as strong muscled arms wrapped around me, catching me before I hit the floor.

"Dickie are you ok?" Bruce asked concerned, brushing some of the hair out of my face.

I sighed, relieved and snuggled close to Bruce, still frightened out of my mind.

"No matter how old you get, I'm still going to catch you. When you're broken I'll fix you. I love you Dickie." Bruce said softly.

"I love you too Bruce." It didn't matter if I was almost old enough to drive, I buried my face into Bruce's chest, and hugged him around his middle.

"You wanna be done for the day kiddo?" He asked gently.

"No way. You gave me wings, and I'm gonna use them."

AHHHH first bats story! That's all!

-Fangirl