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It was a strange feeling. (Y/N) thought it was anyway. Nobody knew when death was going to get them until they faced it themselves.
Some people had a slow death, being told it was coming but still feeling helpless as their heartbeat for the last time. They still had time to prepare themselves and their loved ones for their inevitable demise. (Y/N) had always thought this way was the harder way to die. Watching someone grow weaker and weaker before your very eyes. But in this moment, she thought otherwise.
Dying suddenly was worse.
She had been out on patrol, searching Gotham city to keep it safe. It had been a relatively quiet night; she hadn’t had many of those since she married Bruce Wayne. Being a member of the so-called ‘batfamily’ had been one of the greatest things in (Y/N)’s life and one of her greatest privileges.
As the blood fell from the bullet hole in her chest, she couldn’t help but think of her family, her boys.
She knew that they would be okay without her. She had raised her boys to be strong. She has taught them when to grieve and when to move on. They would grieve her, and they would eventually find peace with her rapidly approaching death. Her only wish was that she could say goodbye but wishes weren’t always answered.
The alleyway wall was cold. And so was (Y/N). Her temperature was rapidly decreasing, she knew she didn’t have long left.
(Y/N) thought it was a strange feeling, the feeling of her blood leaving her. The feeling of tiredness rapidly washing over her as she tried to stay away. The feeling of her head falling to the side. The feeling of dying.
The strange feeling of dying alone.