Archive of Our Own

She was a light sleeper, but still took a moment to grumble into her pillow. It had been a long week and tomorrow was her day off. If her boss was gonna call her in she was going to have some very short words to share with him. 

“Hello,” she slurred into the phone.

“Ah! You’re awake! What a lovely morning we’re having isn’t it?” 

That was not her boss’ voice. It wasn’t any voice she recognized. 

“Who is this?”

“Tsk tsk, you give a guy your number and don’t even remember?” 

“Red Hood?!” Joy was fully awake now. 

“The current not only.” 

She could feel a blush creeping up the back of her neck, and hugged her pillow for emotional support. She’d hoped he would never call. When she had tucked her phone number beside the sandwich at the hospital, she’d assumed him to be late 20’s in age. Learning he was just 18 had been a bad shock. 

She had to turn him down before he got his hopes up. 

“Look, Red Hood, um. I’m sorry to say I didn’t know you were so young when I gave you my number but I don’t date anyone who’s still got teen attached to their age.”

He sputtered and coughed for a moment, and Joy tried to think of more to say that would calm him down. She was never very good at rejecting people. 

Then he started laughing. 

“HAhahaHA - ow! Ow, shit, hahahaha!! Oh, Nurse Joy, I needed that laugh. Thanks, but I don’t want to fuck you.” 

She was mostly relieved, mildly offended, and confused. 

“Then why are you calling at,” she glanced at the clock, “2:17am?” 

“Not for a booty call,” he chuckled. “I need medical assistance.” 

“WHAT THE HELL??!!” Joy threw the blankets off and jumped to her closet. She hit speaker and dropped the phone on a bookshelf to keep talking while she changed. “WHY DIDN'T YOU START WITH THAT?!”

“So you’ll help?” 

“Of course! Where are you?”

“Monarch Theater, by the stage.” 

“Are you safe to stay there?” Her training doing the talking as she pulled on pants. 

“Yep, all the baddies are gone now. Couldn’ta called otherwise.” 

“What are your injuries?” 

“Got two bullet grazes and a knife wound. Nothing immediately life threatening but I need to stop the bleeding. It’s not fun. Can’t run home.”

“What have you done to treat them so far?”

“Antiseptic and numbing spray. Mild tourniquet on the leg above where the knife got me, and wrapped the wounds with some gauze.”

“That’s good.”

“Of course it’s good! I passed my first aid training ages ago. Just... can’t do my own stitches right now... hands won’t stop shaking. Adrenaline letdown’s a bitch.”  

“I’m getting in my car now but it’s gonna be ten minutes before I get to you.”

“Yeah but you’re a lot closer than my next option. He’s an hour away and has to steal a car first. A motorcycle isn’t really the best option for me right now.”

“Just stay on the line please, don’t hang up. Talk to me so I know you haven’t passed out or anything.” 

“Don’t know what to say that won’t give away too much personal info. S’not like I can tell ya ‘bout my day or how the fam is doin’.” 

“I already know you’re Robin’s brother. It’s the first thing you said in the hospital. How’s he healing up?”

“Ung, he’s being a little asshole is how he’s healing up. Caught him trying to saw the cast off his arm with a pocket knife.” 

Joy snorted. 

“Yeah,” Red Hood chuckled too. “Tried to be sneaky by starting under his armpit where I wouldn’t see.”

“How far did he get?”

“Three inches. For being a technical genius you’d think he would remember who changes his sheets. Found the fiberglass powder and confiscated his knife.” 

“The fiberglass didn’t get on his skin did it? That can be really bad, especially on burns like he’s got,” she asked, a bit distracted as she made a turn. 

“Nah, he knows that too and kept it away. The burns are mostly healed anyway. In fact he’s doing pretty good in general, the kid is using a crutch to walk between the bed and bathroom by himself.”

“Already?!”

“Yeah he’s a stubborn bastard.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s practically a requirement if you wanna join the family.” 

“Join?” Joy’s mind got stuck on the one word. “Wait, you’re not blood related?”

“Forget you heard that, it’s the blood loss talking,” he said a little too fast to hide the nervousness. 

“Forgotten,” she said just as quickly, then looked around to change the subject. “I just crossed the bridge, I’ll be there in four minutes.”

“Good, cuz I’m getting tired and don’t wanna pass out here.”

“Yeah please don’t. But if you do pass out what do you want me to do about it?”

“Patch me up anyway and wait for my ride to show up. Back off a good dozen feet if I start swinging.”

“...you punch people in your sleep?”

“It’s been known to happen.”

There was a lull in the conversation just long enough to get awkward. 

“...Red Hood?”

“Present.” 

“You gotta keep talking.”

He groaned, “Fine... what about?”

“Uh. Read any good books lately?”

“Yeah!”

Joy couldn’t help but smile at how excited he sounded. 

“Which one?”

“Just got through Peter Pan again. The kid had never read it so we took turns reading out loud this last week.” 

“That sounds nice. I’ve never read it either, just watched the Disney movie.” 

“Sin! That’s a sin!”

She laughed. “Good thing I’m not a Christian then. No hell points for me.” 

“Oh, I’m not either. Guess I’d be considered Hellenic, but not polytheist... or kinda polytheist cuz I believe the others exist? I just follow one goddess though.”

“Get back on topic. Tell me about Peter Pan. How’s the book different from the movie?” 

“You gotta read it if you wanna understand Tinker Bell’s emotions! And the Lost Boys are so much more feral.” Red Hood talked for the next couple minutes as she sped through Gotham, explaining the boys’ attitudes towards Wendy. 

She parked behind the theater and grabbed a flashlight from the glovebox. The front entrance had long since been boarded up and padlocked, but there had been so many squatters and dumb kids over the years it wasn’t hard to find a broken door around the side. 

The dilapidated hallways and dressing rooms would have given her major horror movie vibes if Red Hood wasn’t chattering away over speakerphone. As it was, she only vaguely knew which way to go from the one time her friends dared her to enter in high school.

It was a common dare - bring back a piece of the main stage curtains to prove your salt. You weren’t allowed to go in groups or pairs, you had to do it alone while everyone waited outside to congratulate or heckle you when you got back. Then the next person went. 

But memory served her well, and soon she found the backstage stairs.

Joy could hear his voice doubling - from the phone and echoing around the theater - but she couldn’t see anyone. Just rows and rows of moldy theater seats, a large scorch mark center stage where someone must have lit a fire, and those massive dusty curtains with the bottom seven feet or so torn and cut to ribbons. A lot more was missing than she remembered. 

“Hey,” she whispered to interrupt his rant about Hook using poison rather than a bomb. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m on the stage now - where are you.”

“Oh, hey, I can hear your voice!”

He hung up. Joy’s heart squeezed with panic for two seconds before she heard him speak again.

“I’m down here.”

“Where?” she hissed. 

“Below. Go to the orchestra pit.” 

There were stairs on the side of the stage that lead down. Any wooden chairs that had once been there were long gone - most likely burned on that scorch mark - but a few music stands remained scattered around.

“Hey Nurse Joy,” his chipper voice came from the shadows in the alcove under the stage. “Thanks for the house call.” 

He wasn’t kidding about the blood loss. There was a puddle staining the carpet, with a drag mark to where he lay on a built-in bench, leg resting on his folded leather jacket. Blood soaked his pants where he held a pad of gauze, but also covered his shoulder and neck. 

Did she think this wasn’t a horror movie? It looked like a scene straight out of a Creature Feature, where the group of friends find the remaining pieces of the first person who went missing. If he hadn’t spoken she would have thought he was dead.

But while the blood was the first thing to catch her eye, it wasn’t the most shocking. 

He wasn’t wearing his helmet. 

The Red Hood was hoodless. 

He had an arm slung over his face as if he was just taking a nap in a sunny park. Black hair stuck out in every direction, a patch of white catching the flashlight’s beam. His outfit was designed to cover every inch of him, but now she could see the tanned skin of a strong jawline sticking out from under his elbow. 

“Surely you’ve seen worse,” he smirked. “You’re an ER Nurse in Gotham.” 

He thought she’d frozen at the sight of blood. The idea made her laugh. He instantly caught on to the nervous tone.

“What?”

“You, um. You’re not wearing your helmet.” She glanced around for it, but only saw his gun on the floor within reach. 

“Had to take it off to stop the bleeding. If I remove the pressure it’ll start up again. Head wounds are a real doozy, aren’t they?” 

“YOU HAVE A HEAD WOUND??!!” 

“Yeesh, volume down. It kinda carries in here. Yes, I have a head wound, but I’m more concerned about the knife in my leg so can you please tend to that first?” 

That comment forced her eyes back to his leg, and that’s when she noticed a small blade sticking out the side of his thigh where he was keeping pressure. He’d used his empty thigh holster as the tourniquet. 

“You didn’t think to mention a fucking knife was still lodged in your leg?” She was suddenly pissed, and stomped over to kneel beside him and open her med kit for cleaning supplies. “Or a fucking head wound!! Next you’re gonna say you got shot in the fucking kidney!” 

“Nope, it just grazed the ribs.”

“Oh fuck me,” she mumbled. 

“Now’s not the time,” he chuckled and flinched at the movement. 

“That is not what I meant and you know it! You could have told me a lot more information on the drive over -"

"You didn't ask," he interrupted.

"You woke me up! I was trying to drive safely! And all you’re doing is laughing about it.” Joy pulled the flashlight open into a lantern, then grabbed rubbing alcohol, cotton swabs, and a pack of gloves, setting up an impromptu working station inside her box lid. “You should have called an ambulance! We treat people all the time who never give their real identity. Do you know how many John Smiths I’ve treated in the ER? You’d think the entire city shared the name.”

“Can’t. They have my dna on file.”

“Still a better option than bleeding out in a disease-ridden theater,” she scowled up at his covered face, only thing visible under his elbow was a shit-eating grin. “Now. You’re going to tell me exactly what happened while I wash up so I know how to fix you.”

“That’s a tall order,” he started, but quickly moved on when she hissed through her teeth. “Okay okay, so I got in a little fight with this gang on the wrong terf, right? One got a lucky ricochet that hit my helmet, and shattered the side. Suddenly I’m blind cuz the internal cameras quit working, and the eye that’s uncovered had blood running into it. They keep shooting, but that gives away their position too, so I take down the ones with guns but take a graze to the ribs - external injury only, more a burn, really - but I didn't hear the guy with a knife. He was a sneaky bugger. Thankfully I wear enough armor over the sensitive areas that no major veins got hit and it didn’t go too deep but there’s no way I could take care of that alone, so here you are!” he ended brightly. 

“How are you so cheerful?” she grumbled as she finished sorting her supplies in order of use and snapped gloves on. 

“Because you’re here.”

Joy closed her eyes for just a second and sighed. That little piece of her that formed crushes quickly elbowed her in the side and wagged it’s eyebrows. 

“Now’s not the time,” she echoed his words.

“Oh,” he let out a nervous huff rather than laugh, “That’s not... I honestly mean that it’s because you’re here that I have to stay cheerful.”

“I don’t understand,” she took her scissors to his pant leg and snipped around the gauze he was holding. He didn’t flinch like most people did when the cold metal touched skin.

“I have anger issues,” he said simply. “Laughing is a good way to keep them under control. And I’m in a fair amount of pain right now, which, yeah I’m used to it, but it does make controlling my mental state a little difficult.” 

“What meds have you taken?”

“Tylenol.” 

Her hand stilled for a beat, then went back to work removing the surrounding fabric before taking off her gloves to rifle through the kit again.

“I’m doing this all out of order. I’m used to patients being prepped before they get to me.” she mumbled. “Here, I’ve got some morphine that should -”

“No! No morphine.”

He finally sounded unsure; she’d almost call it scared. His smile was gone.

“I’m not going to stitch you up without something to help. You could go into shock.”

“Don’t you think I would have by now if I was gonna?” his lip twitched, trying to get back to the chipper attitude and failing.

“You should know the human body has thresholds it won’t cross. I don’t care how well you know your own pain tolerance levels, you’re well past the adrenaline letdown and your body will want to shut down to conserve energy for healing. I’m the trained professional here, so you need to take my advice.”

“Damn yer bossy,” he mumbled into his elbow. 

“I call it self-confidence.”

“It’s...” He was scared! And suddenly Joy remembered he hadn’t been an adult for long. “It’s not about pain tolerance. Morphine gives me nightmares, and I can’t... I don’t want that.” 

“Ah Red,” she sighed in sympathy. She dug around in her kit for a moment. “Okay, the alternative I have is Tramadol.”

“That’ll put me to sleep.”

“Hon, you’re falling asleep as it is. Don’t think I can’t tell. I know you wanna stay awake until your ride gets here, but I can’t pull this knife out without painkillers. Will this one give you nightmares or not?”

Red Hood clenched his jaw and breathed slowly out his nose. 

“What form does it come in?” 

“Two pills. I have some water here -”

“No need, just,” and he opened his mouth, waiting in resignation. 

She froze as another thought hit. 

This man trusted her. 

This man who she barely knew, who had only briefly met her once before, who was in charge of the Gotham drug trade... trusted her. 

“What?” he asked after three seconds of waiting. 

“You... you don’t even know me and you’re willing to let me put some mystery pills in your mouth. How do you know I’m not going to drug you and turn you in?” Her voice shook a little, but she had to ask. 

He giggled. 

The Red Hood giggled. 

Then bit his lip and sucked in a breath to control the pain.

“Primum non nocere, first do no harm,” he said with a toothy smile, then started speaking very fast. “You took the Hippocratic Oath, which specifically mentions not administering poisons, along with abstaining from all intentional wrong-doing and harm. The gist of it was watered down by Thomas Inman into ‘either help or not harm the patient.’ So I’ve got you under oath to not drug me with something dangerous or unexpected.

“Second: you are Joy Tanisha Kanzaki, 26 years old, second child of Katherine Williams and Mamoru Kanzaki, fourth generation American, Black and Japanese. You're a nurse at Gotham General Hospital working night shifts Tuesday through Saturday and have a habit of eating at whatever food cart is on your path home, which usually consists of gyros, chili dogs, or Filipino burritos. 

“Third: you introduced yourself to me while I had a gun trained to your head by admitting I killed a family friend who abused you along with many other children, and then aided me in committing cyber crimes, so you were already an accomplice before you came running out here in the middle of the night without hesitation to sew up a well-known murderer that happens to be on Commissioner Gordon’s and Batman’s shit lists. 

“Fourth...” he paused and smiled again. “I just think you’re nice. So, can I have those pain meds please?” 

She dropped the pills into his waiting mouth, and turned to put a new pair of gloves on. 

The silence stretched as she cut his shirt away from the bullet graze, and dabbed it with alcohol soaked cotton swabs before rubbing some ointment on the simple burn and covering it with a large bandage. 

Red Hood flinched once, but didn’t hiss at the pain. It was when Joy started poking at the bloody and swollen skin around the knife that he spoke in a small voice. 

“I scared you, didn’t I. I’m sorry.” 

“You had me followed.” Her voice shook where her hands didn’t. 

“No, I did the following myself. And only for a few days. Nothing invasive, just rooftop observations and a basic google search.” 

“Have the meds kicked in?” she asked in a flat tone instead of addressing the topic. 

“Startin’ to.” 

“Good. I’ll need to work fast soon as we pull that blade out. How long was the tourniquet on before you called me?”

“About six minutes.” 

“I’ll loosen it after the stitches are settled. That’s gonna make your leg tingle like it’s waking up but don’t move it around. Your hand is already in the right spot to apply pressure while I make the stitches, so put it back in the same place once the gauze and knife are gone, okay?” 

“Yes Nurse.” 

“Count of three. One, two -” he tensed on two like everyone did, which is why she kept counting, “- three, four, five -” he relaxed and was about to say something when she pulled the blade out and he gasped instead. 

Joy had already started cleaning the area before he caught his breath to shout.

“You son of a bitch!! You did that on purpose!” 

“Yup.” She took his hand and redirected it to the right spot before grabbing the needle to start sewing the wound shut. 

“That was payback for following you wasn’t it?” Red Hood grumbled, hissing a little at each thread pull. 

“Yup.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“You apologized for scaring me. Not for following me,” she said while squinting at her needlework. 

“I’m not sorry for following you. I needed to know if I should keep your number. I found you to be a trustworthy person, so I kept it. And it’s come in handy.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

“Sure, okay,” she sighed, and flicked his wrist. “You can remove your hand now. I’ll just put a wrap around this. How’s your pain?” 

“Cut in half now, I’m feelin’ alright. Feelin’ a little groggy, actually.”

“That’s fine. Won’t be much longer. I’m going to change my gloves and get another needle prepped for that head wound. Do you know how deep it is?” 

“Don’t exactly have a mirror on hand,” he snarked. 

“You didn’t check it on your phone’s selfie mode? How do you know it even needs stitches? Even minor head cuts bleed a lot.”

“That...” he stopped and his jaw fell slack as if deep in thought. Then he whispered, “Damn that’s genius...” 

Her sudden laughter was loud enough to echo. 

“Big bad crime lord doesn’t know a trick every high schooler thinks they invented?!” She snorted and laughed harder. 

“Shut up,” he said defensively, “I missed those years.”

“What, like you were home schooled? That tracks, you talk like someone who read more books than went to parties.” 

She turned back from her med kit, expecting to see his toothy grin and hear a quip about how she was the same, but instead his jaw was clenched, lips pressed tight together. 

“Hey hon, you alright?” she asked, worried. 

“I need to stop talking.” 

“Are you in pain? If you need another pill -”

“No I... I’m gettin’ real tired and I don’t wanna let personal info slip.” He let out another slow breath through his nose, then mumbled, “You’re too easy to talk to.” 

“Oh.” 

She wasn’t sure how to take that, so she ignored it and finished setting up her suture station, adding a couple butterfly bandaids and liquid skin just in case stitches weren’t needed. 

“I need you to move your arm now. You might start bleeding again but I’ll get it under control.”

“Okay,” Red Hood sighed and lowered his arm to rest over his stomach. “Let’s get this over with.”

Joy snapped her mouth shut before it could fall open, and swallowed a gasp. 

Oh no he’s cute.

She silently thanked her ancestors for being dark skinned enough to hide the sudden blush. It felt like her whole face was on fire. That little part of her holding onto a crush started dancing and she had to clear her throat to refocus. 

“That bad?”

“Uh, no, actually, it’s just messy,” she tilted her head around to examine it from different angles. “In fact it stopped bleeding already.” 

“You mean I coulda had my eyes open this whole time? Ung.” 

“It’s probably better you didn’t...” she mumbled. They were very pretty eyes, and she didn’t need the distraction. 

“What, you think I can’t handle seeing my own blood?” His words were starting to slur a little, but his smile shone full force. 

His eyes twinkled when he smiled. And his face was very expressive. This was so unfair. Joy turned away to close her eyes for a second. 

“You good?” It was his turn to sound worried. 

“Yeah, of course,” she bobbed her head in answer. “Just putting away what I don’t need. I’ll clean the area and put a couple butterfly strips on it, then brush it over with liquid skin to seal the cut. Sound good?”

She turned back in time to see his lip curl and eyes close as he grunted. 

“Hate liquid skin. Burns.”

“Better a quick burn now than the slow burn of infection later.” 

“Yer right. Giddon wi’it.” His eyes stayed closed and his shoulders relaxed. As she started cleaning the half-dried blood away from the thin gash his breathing evened out. 

“Don’t go punching me in your sleep, now,” she whispered, not expecting an answer. 

“I won’t,” he whispered back, his voice airy in the way that meant he was mostly asleep. “Yer safe wi’ me.” 

Joy’s heart melted a little.

She made quick work of cleanup and applying the bandaids, then decided to repack her med kit before waking him for the painful bit. 

“Hey Red?” 

“Hmm?”

“Almost done, this next bit’s gonna sting.”

“Kay.”

“Wanna hold my hand?”

He flipped his palm over in answer, and she gripped it tight for a moment before carefully placing drops of ointment over the cut on his forehead. He sucked in a quick breath through bared teeth, and his hand spasmed in hers before squeezing painfully tight and loosening again. 

But when she went to let go he held on, and she looked at him in question. 

“Hey,” he’d opened his eyes to meet hers. “You took an oath to not hurt people when all people’ve done is hurt you.” 

Joy understood exactly what he was asking. She recognized the pain in his eyes from her own nightmare of a childhood, from her teenaged years of depression and anger. His eyes asked the questions every abused child asks.

Why? 

Why me?

Why go on after this?

Joy took a moment to set the memories aside, then smiled at him.

“I decided a long time ago there had to be good people in the world if I was going to keep living in it. And until those people showed up, I would do my best.” 

“Ever find ‘em?” 

She gave his hand another squeeze. 

“Here and there. Usually when I least expect it.” 

Joy loosened his tourniquet in stages as he fell into a deeper sleep, keeping an eye on the knife wound to make sure it didn’t start a massive bleed. 

All of her things were put away, and she sat on the grimy floor of the abandoned theater, back to the built-in bench as she waited. 

Red had told her to wait until his ride showed up. He said the guy was an hour away, and it had only been 40 minutes, despite feeling like she’d worked a full shift. 

Man, she was exhausted. Joy was used to sleep deprivation; it was part of her medical training. Didn’t mean she suddenly became super human. 

But she had to stay awake because she had no clue what to expect next. She trusted Red, but who did he trust to take him away in this state? 

If it was some sleeze-bag goon she had half a mind to steal Red back to her place and make sure he healed up okay. Now that was a nice daydream... 

Shut up, she told that part of herself. I have a rule and I’m not breaking it.

She looked out from her position in the orchestra pit into the empty audience of the abandoned theater, and imagined it full of life. It was a good distraction.

It would have been a beautiful place when cared for. Polished metals and cushioned folding chairs, not a speck of dust and a grand chandelier lighting the room. It was easy to imagine. She didn’t understand why it shut down. 

Yes, there had been that tragedy of the Wayne couple being murdered outside, but why would that shut down a flourishing business? A month of mourning, maybe, but permanently locking its doors? This place had existed before the Waynes, it could have persisted through the pain. It could have reminded the city there was beauty and joy and reason to smile. 

She could imagine the music that would spill into the streets... 

Every hair on her body stood up in goosebumps. 

That wasn’t her imagination. Someone was humming and the sound was getting closer. 

Was it Red’s friend? It was still early. Should she turn off the lantern to hide their position? But that would leave her in the dark, unable to see what was coming... 

Steady footsteps echoed from the stage above them, and then the voice started singing in a rich baritone that filled the hall. 

“Strangers in the night, exchanging glances. Wondering in the night, what were the chances we’d be sharing love, before the night was through?” 

“Damn those acoustics are fine,” the voice said, as the steps continued forward to the edge of the stage. “Doobee doobee doo... Beedoobee doobee. Doobee doobee doo...” 

Without missing a step a body fell off the stage, twisting just in time to catch the lip and hang by one arm as the other waved. 

“Hello there!” Nightwing smiled, and dropped the remaining distance to the floor.

Joy’s blood went cold, and she half-knelt up to hide Red’s face from view. 

“That wouldn’t happen to be The Red Hood behind you, now would it?”

Joy couldn’t speak. Nightwing was almost as famous as Batman. But she couldn’t let him take Red in. She had no clue how he found them, and there was no way she could fight, but maybe she could make him leave. Or stall long enough for Red’s friend to show up. 

“No,” she squeaked. 

“Hmm, I think it is.” He started waking forward casually. 

“Go away,” her voice hitched in the middle but she stood anyway. Her foot bumped into something and they both looked down at the gun. 

“Don’t do it,” Nightwing’s smile froze and his head tilted just a little, but she’d already lunged. 

Her eyes saw what happened even though her mind didn’t process it until she was on the ground.

He was so fast! She’d never seen someone move so fluidly, so gracefully before, it shouldn’t have been possible. He tipped forward, turned the momentum into a somersault and pulled the metal sticks off his back in a blink. One pinned the gun to the floor, the second hovered over her, ready to strike if she moved. 

Joy had dropped to the ground like her strings were cut, and curled up. 

Why did the heroes in Gotham have to be scarier than the villains? 

He was still smiling. 

That is, until a fist shot out over her head and socked him straight in the mouth. 

Nightwing lurched back. The gun was dragged away with the motion, skittering into shadow, and Joy just curled up tighter. 

“Ah hell, I forgot you do that.” Blood covered his teeth, and he spat it onto the floor.

“Oh, it’s you,” Red’s gravely voice said from above her. “Go ‘way I’m tryin’ to sleep.” 

“Hey you called me, remember? Don’t you wanna go sleep in a nice warm bed instead of this mildew and rot?”

“I grew up in mildew and rot, smells like home.” 

“Ew.” 

The conversation floated over Joy, and the words didn’t make sense but the emotion did. It was friendly bickering, not fighting. 

Nightwing wasn’t there to hurt Red. He wasn’t in danger. 

She wasn’t in danger. 

The sudden relief hit her like a drug and she started crying. 

“Joy? JOY?! Are you okay?!”

A large hand landed on her shoulder, but let go the second she flinched. 

“What did you do to her?” Red’s voice growled like bear. 

“Nothing I swear! She was going for the gun and I had to stop her, but I didn’t even touch her. Probably just scared.” 

She heard Red shift, and finally looked up to see him standing, face twisted with rage. Nightwing held his hands up between them, still holding his sticks but fingers extended. Half surrender, half defense. 

Before he could take a step forward Joy reached out and grabbed Red's ankle. His face snapped down to hers with a snarl and she flinched again but didn’t let go.

“You’ll tear your stitches,” she whispered. 

Red Hood closed his eyes and took several slow, controlled breaths. Then he fell backward onto the bench with a groan and covered his face with both hands. 

“You good?” Nightwing asked.

“Fuck off. You're lucky she stopped me.”

“You think you can beat me?” He said with a cocky grin. 

“I think you're not invited to dinner for a week.” 

“What?! Nooo!” Nightwing suddenly whined like a child. “Please, Little Wing!”

“Don’t you Little Wing me, you scared Nurse Joy. Apologize before I hit you again.” 

The hero’s attention was suddenly on her and she stood quickly, wiping tears on her sleeve. 

“I’m so sorry for scaring you like that,” he said with a hand over his heart. “I thought you were going to shoot me.”

Red blew a raspberry. They both looked over to see his scowl. “Oh please. Joy wouldn’t let a fly hurt itself much less shoot someone.” 

“You know she took your mask off while you were sleeping? That’s not harmless. She’s seen your face.”

“No she didn’t! I wasn’t wearing a mask when my helmet took a bullet for me. And I made the decision to show her my face cuz I trust her, thank you very much Mister Paranoid.”

“Please, Mister Paranoid is our father. You can call me Nosy.” 

“You’re brothers?” Joy blurted out, looking back and forth between the two. They didn’t look anything alike. Not that she could see past Nightwing’s mask, but their facial structures were very different and their body types near opposites. Then she remembered Red saying he and Robin weren’t blood related and it clicked that they could all be adopted. Or maybe it was more a brothers-in-arms kind of thing, having been trained by Batman? 

Red looked confused. 

“I though you knew that?”

“No...”

“I told you my brother was picking me up.”

“No, you said you had a ride. That he was an hour away and had to steal a car cuz he only had a motorcycle. You never mentioned a brother. That’s why I thought Nightwing was here to take you in.” 

“Oh... oops.” 

“Aww, you were defending him from me? That’s so sweet.” 

Joy ignored him and scrubbed a hand over her face. 

“Today has been too long,” she muttered to herself. 

“We’ll get out of your hair,” Nightwing smiled softly at her. “I gotta take this one home and make sure he actually takes time to heal.”

Red took the cue to stand, “Grab my things, will ya?” he asked Nightwing, then turned to Joy. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.” 

“Any time.”

“Do you mean that?” His eyes were intense, but he wasn’t frowning. 

“Of course?” 

“Because I remember you being rather upset that followed you. If you wake up tomorrow and decide you want me to lose your number, I will. No questions asked, and full privacy granted.” 

She smiled up at him and held out her hand. He took it. 

“Never stalk me again. But if you have a question or need help you can call.” 

He smiled back, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners, and her stomach jumped. 

“Sounds like a deal.” 

He gave her hand a little tug, and she followed it into a hug. She was careful not to touch his wounds, but he wrapped his arms tight around her and put his chin on her head. 

It was very comfortable in his arms.

Nightwing started humming that song again. He was standing a little ways off, holding Red’s bloody jacket and guns in their holster. 

“I’m going to shoot you,” his voice rumbled in his chest against her as his head lifted to glare at his brother, and Joy forced herself to take a step back. He opened his arms and let her go. 

“I’m the one holding the gun,” Nightwing snarked back. He buckled the holster around his waist, letting it hang loosely off his hips. 

“It doesn’t have to be today.”

“Come on Nurse Joy,” the hero turned to her, ignoring the threat. “We’ll walk you to your car, I parked right next to you.”

She nodded gratefully, grabbing her med kit and flashlight. Nightwing acted as a crutch for Red and the three made their way down the old hallways that didn’t seem so frightening this time.