𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛
𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑜𝑤
𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑒𝑡．

"It was a cure?!" Sterling said as he followed Melanie into her lab.

"Yes and it worked. Now Waylon will never hurt anyone again. He's going away for a very long time." Melanie turned to face Sterling, who looked beyond baffled that she created something to cure a monster.

"How did you do it? What— what the hell did you mix together to create that?!" Melanie shrugged, turning around to reorganize her desk.

"Chemicals you wouldn't understand the name of, Sterling." She turned to face the man, who had a slightly offended look on his face. Even though he knew she was right. "Look, all of you wanted me to put a stop to Croc, and that's what I did."

"By knocking him out, not making him a human again!" Melanie frowned, leaning against her desk and crossed her arms. She raised a brow at him.

"So... You guys didn't want me to diminish the chance of Croc escaping again and wreaking havoc on Gotham... Again?" Sterling stared at Melanie before glancing away and shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah I guess you did the right thing. But that doesn't mean you didn't risk killing him." Melanie shook her head.

"I've made it before, I know the risks. I saved the day, call me the hero." She outstretched her arms as if she were going to give the world a hug, smiling forcefully.

Sterling shook his head, starting to walk out. "You are something else, Melanie."

"One of a kind." She half shrugged and Sterling laughed, leaving her lab.

Melanie's look dropped, sighing quietly and pushed her glasses down to rub her eyes. "Shit." She mumbled, turning to her computer. She crossed her arms, thinking for a long time.

Her thoughts were cut short when the rooftop door banged loudly and she shot up from her seated position, her breath hitching as she stared up with wide eyes. "Shit." She repeated, scrambling to grab her purse.

"I know you're in there! I will break this door down if you don't talk to me!" Melanie froze midstep, slowly turning around before caving.

She reached the top of the stairs, slowly opening the door to see Robin standing in the doorway, his hands on his hips.

"Well, don't you look like a grumpy toddler?" She joked nervously, clamping her mouth shut as Robin glared at her. She looked down to the front door of her lab before stepping outside, placing the rock between the door.

"Why didn't you tell me it was going to cure Killer Croc?" Robin asked as he crossed his arms. Melanie stood up straight, looking at him. She glanced away for a moment, thinking before looking at him again.

Well, he's not angry. She thought to herself, calculating the way Robin was holding himself up. It was then when the wind picked up, revealing his sliced open arm.

"You're bleeding." Melanie gestured to his arm calmly, changing the subject. Robin looked down at his arm before back to Melanie.

"That's not what I'm here for. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't trust you." She shrugged, and Robin scoffed.

"You don't trust me, yet you gave me the only thing strong enough to stop Croc."

"I wasn't going to give it to Gordon. He could have been killed. He could have gotten one of my coworkers killed." Melanie crossed her arms, staring at the scarlet blood seeping out of Robin's wound. "You should let me patch you up."

"I can do it myself." Robin answered sharply, and Melanie raised a brow. He was leaning awkwardly, and she could tell from his crossed arms that he was holding his side.

"You got thrown into a car and sliced open with a claw that's been in a sewer. I probably have something to at least stop an infection." Phoebe turned around to go back into her lab, but Robin gripped her arm.

Melanie immediately pulled back, and Robin let go, taking a step away. "Sorry." He apologized quietly. She looked down at her shirt, which now had a bloody handprint on it.

"You owe me money for the dry cleaners." She grumbled, turning back to face him. Melanie sighed heavily. "Why I didn't tell anyone doesn't matter. What matters is that only this precinct and you know I was the one that made it."

"Why?" Robin frowned in confusion. Melanie stared at him for a moment before shaking her head.

"That doesn't matter, either. Now come on. Don't make me mother you." Melanie opened the door and gestured for Robin to walk in, but he shook his head.

"Like I said, I can do it myself."

"And like I said, I have something that can stop the infection." Robin debated it for a long time before Melanie finally rolled her eyes, grabbing his shoulder and ushering him forward. "I can't have the only hero in Gotham dying from a scratch."

"I said I'll be fine—" Robin said as he reluctantly marched down the steps. Melanie watched his cape flow behind him, tilting her head as she followed Robin down the stairs.

"Why do heroes choose capes? Don't they get in the way?" Melanie wondered as they landed on the bottom floor. Robin didn't answer for a moment and shrugged, quietly hissing in pain.

"Batman's idea. Wants people to know I work for him." Melanie walked past Robin and made her way to a cabinet, opening it up and rummaged through it.

"It seems impractical. Does it have pockets?" She pulled out a small pair of surgical scissors and a bandage wrap.

"No, it doesn't." Robin grumbled, looking around for a place to sit. "Keeps me warm sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Melanie paused to look to Robin, smirking. "Anyone ever use it against you?"

"Yeah." The masked man scoffed, grabbing Melanie's chair and sat down. It squeaked loudly and he froze before slowly sinking down. "Joker thinks it's hilarious when he gets to my cape."

"I don't doubt it." Melanie hummed, frowning for a moment. She looked around, rushing towards her autopsy table and grabbed the needle and nylon thread before walking over to her desk that Robin was sitting at.

He was staring at her computer, which was showing a list of inmates at Iron Heights. Melanie quickly clicked out of the page, not looking to Robin. He glanced up at her, watching as Melanie dragged a chair over and put a pair of gloves on.

"How's your pain tolerance?" She asked, staring at Robin with a serious expression. He shrugged, wincing slightly in pain. "Lift your arm."

Robin lifted his injured arm and Melanie let out an annoyed sigh. "Your other arm."

"Oh, sorry." He mumbled, dropping his arm and raised the other. Melanie immediately reached for his side and pressed down, causing Robin to flinch away in pain. "Hey!"

"Let me check." She demanded, staring into his eyes. Robin huffed, turning away as Melanie continued to press down onto his side. He scrunched his face, trying to suppress a groan of pain as Melanie's arm dropped into her lap. "It's probably cracked. You might want to go to a hospital for that. Does your sleeve come off?"

"No—" Robin's eyes widened as Melanie started to cut his sleeve off.

"What, you want me to have you strip? You'd look weird without a top but a mask on." Melanie paused, thinking about it for a moment before raising her brows. "Maybe not."

Robin gave her an odd look before Melanie shrugged. "You can have whoever made your suit fix it. Not like you weren't planning on doing it anyways, right?" Robin rolled his eyes as Melanie carefully slipped the sleeve off of his arm. Robin hissed in pain and she paused, glancing up.

"Sorry." She removed his sleeve, setting it down and turned back to his arm. It was coated in a thick layer of blood, which was still trickling from his wound. "I'm going to get more bandages. If I come back and you're gone, I will find you."

Melanie quickly got up from her chair and rushed to the front door of her lab. She poked her head out before slipping through the door, leaving Robin alone.

He sat there awkwardly in the chair, pressing his lips together and tapped his fingers in his knees, looking around. After a few seconds, he opened up the page Melanie had exited out of, scrolling through it to see why she had been looking at Iron Heights prisoners.

He paused, realizing that the list was a handful of escaped convicts that were wanted for their arrest. He glanced to the door, then back to the computer one final time before shutting the site down again.

He moved back to his original spot, still looking around, but only to admire the small details of Melanie's desk. Her mug with it's coffee stained rim, the tiny coffee machine she had. Robin frowned, wondering why she didn't just use the coffee machine in the lounge before thinking she probably drank too much coffee to want to get up to get more.

There was a stack of sticky notes, the top one having a drawing of a little stick man running, and Robin hummed in amusement.

Robin paused at the picture frame in front of the computer. He picked it up with his uninjured arm, staring at the two pictures inside. One of Melanie kissing the snout of a bullmastiff dog. The dog had a giant grin on her face as Melanie held her head, face scrunched with the kiss.

The other picture was still of Melanie and the dog, this time with her holding the large dog. The dogs front legs were sling over Melanie's shoulders, with Melanie looking at the camera. She had the biggest smile on her face, eyes screwed shut as the dog licked her cheek.

He turned the picture frame, but there was no name of the dog to be seen. He set the frame down, still looking at it. Another tiny discovery he made of Melanie: She owns a dog.

Melanie slipped through the door, holding a large bandage and two towels. She looked at Robin, a small smile of relief crossing her face before it dropped to a serious look.

"How are you feeling?" Melanie asked as she set the towels and bandages down. She put on a new pair of gloves, sitting back down and Scooted herself closer to Robin, who shrugged just a small bit.

"I'm fine." Melanie paused to give Robin an unsure look, Melanie a brow. She didn't let Robin continue, turning around to face her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a bottle of vodka. Robin's brows raised, looking at Melanie.

She turned back around, staring at him. "What? I haven't even opened it yet."

"You drink on the job?" Robin questioned and she shook her head.

"No. Believe it or not, this is injury related whiskey. I don't usually drink hard liquor." Melanie popped the bottle open, gesturing back to the cabinet. "There's no glasses in there for me to drink."

"You have a mug right there." Robin turned to the mug on Melanie's desk and she glanced to it awkwardly.

"For coffee specifically. Give me your arm." She ordered before dropping one towel underneath Robin's arm. She then poured the vodka over Robin's wound and he gripped his thigh in agony, turning away. Melanie watched the blood clear away and drip onto the towel beneath their feet before she grabbed the other towel, drenching it in the vodka and wiped Robin's arm.

After a few moments of Melanie carefully wiping away the blood around his wound, she grabbed the hydrogen peroxide spray bottle, drowning Robin's wound in it and he immediately flinched away. Phoebe grabbed his wrist and yanked him back towards her, continuing to spray his wound. The liquid bubbled around his cut, and she raised her brows.

"See? It's infected. Any longer and maybe you would have turned into the next Killer Croc." She joked and Robin shot her a glare.

"Just get it over with, please." He whispered and Melanie hummed.

"You're so polite. Now, hold still, this will probably be a familiar pain." Robin but down on his tongue to stop himself from yelling in pain as Melanie pierced a needle through this skin, pulling just the smallest part of his sliced flesh back together.

"Handling it well?" She asked, glancing up at him through her glasses. Robin hummed a 'yes,' still gripping his thigh tightly as Melanie nodded. She knotted the nylon and cut it before repeating the process several more times.

She proceeded to drench his arm in vodka one more time after, gently tapping his arm with the towel before wrapping it in a bandage. "For safe measures because I don't doubt you won't rip them open."

"You about to give me doctors orders or something?" Robin asked, causing Melanie to laugh.

"No. I'm not a doctor. But as someone who basically saved everyone's ass tonight, I'm telling you to lay off the crime fighting for at least a week. Police can handle a few muggers and robbers for a bit."

"And you're sure about that?" Robin raised a brow. Melanie stayed quiet for a moment before shrugging.

"I'd give you an answer, but I haven't been very trustworthy in a long time." MelNie grabbed a bottle of pills, handing them to Robin. "Just some ibuprofen. Should help with the pain."

"I won't need these—"

"Just take the fucking pills, Bird Boy." Melanie scoffed, resting her hands on her elbows as Robin gave her a sarcastic eye roll.

"Very original." Melanie shrugged, smirking.

"Well, I can't call you the Mourning Dove, you aren't crying over someone yet." Robin stood up, grunting in pains as Melanie stood up as well. She still held the pills in her hands, looking up at Robin, who was particularly close to her.

He stared down at the bottle for a moment before sighing, reluctantly grabbing them and rattled the bottle. "I can't promise I'll take them."

"You will when you need to." The two stood awkwardly in silence for a moment. Melanie turned around, grabbing Robin's sleeve and handed it to him. "Uhm... Look if you ever need help with anything again..."

"I know where to find you." Robin said quietly and Melanie clasped her hands together, nodding. "Thank you for your help, detective."

Melanie stayed quiet, looking up at Robin again before he started walking away and towards the stairs.