Chapter Text
“Nightwing. This is between us and him. Leave or go down with him.” A voice that sounded way too mechanical for a human
began to speak, swaying back and forth with every word. Dick waved them off, putting on his usual demeanor. “I’m good.”
Not even a second after these words had left his mouth, the creature let out a weird, bloodcurdling scream - goosebumps suddenly covering Dicks whole body. He jerked back, barely avoiding a sharp attack by the creature. In the back he could see the other people rush towards hood, who.. to be fair, didn’t look worried at all. Although, to be fair. He did wear a helmet. Kinda hard to tell how he felt, huh?
For a moment, there was only this sickening silence, crawling up the walls and plunging down like a predator on its prey. Claws shuddered and suddenly gunshots filled the room. Flinching, Dick could physically hear one of the bullets pierce flesh. Trying to blend out the sound, Dick turned, dodging another hit from the creature. He scoffed, swinging at it with his sticks, one of them hitting the man (or creature) on one of their shoulders. They jolted back, a gust of anger exploding in behind their eyes. Electricity buzzed, but nothing happened. Still, the hit did leave the person to topple to the side, quickly regaining their composure after a moment. With a quick flick, Nightwing attacked again and again.
For a while it was a constant back and forth but soon, the winged man was writhing in pain on the floor. Meanwhile Dick hadn’t gone without injury either, a gash on his left arm bleeding quite a bit. Still, it wasn’t enough to make him pass out. Panting heavily from the fight, Dick stepped back, looking around. Hood and the other two people were nowhere to be seen anymore, which left a bitter taste on Dicks mouth. Something felt.. off. These guys had clearly been after the crime lord and given the fact that they had been hired by the black mask didn’t leave an insane amount of options for where the man could be. Either dead, alive and still fighting or alive and in the grasps of the skull. Although Dick obviously had his own problems with the crime lords, he still didn’t want either of them to die. Tying up the winged man with a zip tie, he made his way towards the door, still lost in thoughts. These people - they were trained. Not simple thugs. They were trained metas. None of this felt right.
Rushing out, he could faintly hear the gunshots - now echoing off of somewhere on the rooftops. Vibrations of the gunshots filled the air, only adding onto the rather tense atmosphere the whole place seemed to be submerged in. Despite the heavy unease that followed after the loud bangs, what Dick really wasn’t prepared for was the absolute lack of sound that slowly followed right after. First there had been a thud. Then the gunshots had stilled in mere seconds, leaving nothing but a dragging silence. Nightwings body tensed, unintentionally. How come he was so tense over a crimelord? Had he killed them or was he the one being killed? Pushing himself up, Dick kept climbing pushing everything aside, quickly reaching the top. There, on the other side of the roof were all three of them, except there were two more people all of the sudden. Hood was kneeling in front of a fourth shadow, his head being held down by one of the metas. Nightwings heart plummeted as he began to makeout a tinier shadow in front of the bigger one, a muzzle tightly pressed to their head. It was a kid. A child. A innocent child. Did Hood just give himself up for th-
The bigger shadow who was holding the kid stepped a bit more forward, finally letting the kid go after seeing his enemy reluctantly give in. It didn’t take long for Nightwing to realize who that very person was. Black mask. Of course. Upon being let go the kid immediately began to frantically flee; yet not without looking back at the man who had just sacrificed his own freedom or possibly life in order to save her.
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[Jasons’s POV]
Fucking Bastard. Fucking asshole. Jason felt the cold hand of the meta behind him pressing him down, somewhat keeping him in place. His guns were long gone, both given to Black Mask as some sort of sick fucking triumph. Using a child like that. A fucking kid. A CHILD. Nothing more than an innocent soul trying to survive the wild path of crime alley. If it wasn’t for his damn helmet Jason would’ve fucking spat at the feet of this motherfucker. Filthy human being. He huffed, trying to look up but being shoved down immediately. “God, you’re pathetic.”, he scoffed, eyes fixated on the man. “Oh, was I too strong to catch me normally? Had to pull out the civilian card, didn’t you?”, he mocked. Despite the anger inside the helmet, his modulated voice came out flat. Sionis didn’t react, although the faint flicker of rage that flew across is his face for a moment didn’t go unnoticed. He was so easy to annoy and Jason was sure that he was boiling with anger under that wretched skull mask. Gun still pointing at Jason’s head, the man moved - finger barely above the trigger, levitating ever so slightly, making sure the silent threat of death was always there.
“Hood.” Jason knew his helmet could tank a some bullets, but there were plenty other ways to kill a man. Sionis bowed down. “What a pleasure to finally have you in my grasp.”, the man crouched down, his voice threatening. Low. Angry. “You’ve been a pain in my ass for far too long.” Jason’s eyes narrowed. He had to get out of here before it was too late. “So you’re just gonna shoot me right here? Just wait until the alley finds out about the way you caught me. Imagine the headline.. ‘Desperate crime lord catches and kills his rival by using incredibly low methods, showing that his rival was simplyyyyy superior.’ Would be fun, no?”, Jason hissed under his breath, the modular picking it up perfectly. Even without glancing down, Jason could physically hear Sionis grip tighten around the gun, the silent noise coming from his leather gloves telling him a whole tale about it. And in that very moment, Jason really expected it all to go dark. And the scariest part about that was that maybe a part of him was okay with falling asleep for an eternity. But that mercy never came. Instead, he could suddenly feel a sharp searing pain perching his upper thigh, shooting all the way up to his chest. It was so sudden and intense that he involuntarily gasped for air a suppressed yelp escaping through his teeth, something that even his modulator couldn’t hide properly. Definitely a stab right into his upper thigh. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was being somewhat held up by this maniacs helpers, he probably would’ve toppled over. Adrenaline rushing through his body, the pain went somewhat numb but he knew it was still there. Waiting for the adrenaline to disappear. Finally looking down, he could see a large scarlett wound run across his upper leg, barely touching the tip of his knee. Despite the pit mixed with the adrenaline somewhat dimming down the pain, it still fucking sucked. He was going to have to bandage that later when he- fuck-, when.. when he was out of here. And Sionis? That sick fucker was smiling down at him. Holding a knife, now dipped in a dark red color. “How about you stop raising your annoying voice for a while, yeah?”, the man said, the gun still laying heavy in his other hand. Always close enough to make sure that Jason knew on which end of the line he sat. Turning around, the crime lord gestured to the metas, flicking a grin at Hood. “Put him in ropes. We’re taking him with us for now.” Hood didn’t say anything, feeling the meta behind him press him down by putting weight on his back. His head hurt. Not in the way that it normally did. Different. Hands harshly grabbed his wrists, shoving them together, the rope lightly brushing his hands. Mentally preparing to feel them tightening, Jason let go. The feeling of anxiety and worry would silently linger in the air, hovering around his head and chest was there. But it was just not.. not really present. It felt weird to admit. Of course, there was this stinging.. almost tightening feeling in his chest. But nothing more.
He had been feeling like this for a while now. Running on autopilot. Being pulled by invisible silver strings, which he didn’t fully control. Still moving. Despite his body aching for peace- for.. for things he wasn’t ever going to achieve. And every night he could do nothing but wish for it.
But sometimes, sometimes all you need is a spark of hope. And damn, sometimes that shit shows up in the weirdest ways possible. Who the hell knew that hearing Nightwings voice could suddenly feel so comforting?