Here's a snippet of something that was never expanded upon. It inspired my "Losing Amy" story which I seriously need to complete one of these days (and re-edit) Anyway, this little bit was cluttering up my file, so I thought I'd post it for you to enjoy.
"Trust Me"
Warning: Some Mild Peril . . . Rating "K+"
"Grab my hand!"
The woman pleaded with him to save her, but she wouldn't let go of the ledge to take his hand.
Robin leaned over the balcony's balustrade in an effort to reach the woman before she fell to her death. They were twelve stories above the street. There would be no second chances, no reprieves from a fall from this height. There was only a foot separating them; a measly twelve inches.
He stretched out further over the abyss; dangerously so. To many, this woman was no one of importance; naught but a prostitute, but to Robin she was someone's daughter; possibly someone's mother. Her life was fraught with possibilities, full of potential, valuable if only to herself . . . If only she would just trust him enough to grab his hand!
"Trust me," he begged her. "I promise, I won't let you fall!"
"But . . . You're just a child," she whimpered.
She was mistaken. It had been over a year since his childhood had been forcibly stripped from him upon his parents' deaths. No, he hadn't been a child for a long time now.
"I'm stronger than I look," he told her.
It was true. Even before the tragedy that had reshaped his life so dramatically, he had been stronger than possibly any child his age. Afterward, his intensive training as the Batman's protégé, Robin, guaranteed that he was stronger than many of those five years his senior.
The woman was having none of it, however. Terrified as she was, she refused to reach out to him. But she was weakening. Robin could see it in her eyes and in the strain of her muscles. She couldn't hold on much longer. He glanced over his shoulder to his mentor, but Batman was busy still taking out the last of the gunmen.
Seeing no other choice, Robin slithered over the railing; tucking his booted feet between the metal slats. Securing a one handed grip on the balustrade, he leaned down to grasp the woman's wrist.
"I've got you. Help me pull you up," he told her.
"No! I'm too heavy," she cried. "I'll pull you off with me!"
She attempted to yank her wrist out of his grip, nearly sending them both plunging to the sidewalk below.
