Work Text:
April 11th
“Flatline, report.”
Static.
Damian tapped his comm again, voice even but clipped. “Flatline. Respond.”
Nothing.
Lian landed beside him in a crouch, having vaulted over a concrete barrier with her bow already drawn. She glanced over, scanning his face.
“She’s not answering either?”
“No.”
That was all he said, but something in him had shifted. His jaw locked tighter. His hands no longer rested calmly at his belt. Lian noticed.
“Connor and Rose checked in,” she said, lowering her bow slightly. “East wing’s clear. We’re the last ones left.”
Damian didn’t respond. He was already moving. His cape fluttered once behind him before settling.
Lian sighed and followed him.
They moved through the corridors like ghosts, floor slick with grime and shattered glass. The last time Nika had responded, she was entering the northern hallway to investigate movement. That was twelve minutes ago.
Damian had replayed those last words in his head exactly twenty-six times.
She’d said, “I got it, don’t worry about me.”
Which, in Nika’s language, meant I’m about to do something both reckless and unnecessarily impressive. Please don’t scold me later.
But still. Twelve minutes of silence…
He tapped the comm again. “Flatline. Respond. Now.”
Still nothing.
“You’re freaking out,” Lian said as she caught up again.
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, sure,” she muttered. “And I’m Batman.”
He shot her a look.
She held up both hands, mock-innocent. “Just saying, it’s okay to care, you know. We all like her.”
He didn’t reply, but his pace increased.
They reached the northern hall dark, littered with metal crates and broken lights. A few bodies were on the ground, sprawled in unnatural positions.
Lian slowed. “Oh no...”
But Damian didn’t hesitate. He knelt by the first body, two fingers to the neck.
Alive.
He checked another. Then another.
All unconscious. Unharmed. Pressure point strikes… Clean and efficient. Her style.
He froze when he heard the quiet scuff of a boot against the floor.
A shadow shifted behind the crates. His hand flew to a batarang, poised to strike…
Then she stepped into the light.
Dragging an unconscious guard by the collar, Nika emerged covered in dust, eyes sharp and alive.
She dropped the body with a dull thud, glanced up, and blinked like she hadn’t just disappeared off comms and sent him into quiet internal chaos.
“Hey!”
Lian made a strangled noise. “You idiot! You didn’t answer the comm!”
Nika shrugged. “It was glitching and buzzing in my ear. I turned it off.”
“You what?!”
Damian was still frozen.
And then Nika looked at him.
Really looked.
Something in her expression changed, her posture losing that casual ease she always wore like armor.
“You okay?”
He gave a single nod. Turned away.
But Lian wasn’t done.
“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms. “Now comes the part where Damian pretends he didn’t spiral into full crisis mode the second she went radio silent.”
“I did not…”
“Connor owes me money,” she cut in. “He said you’d act normal. I said you’d go full feral boyfriend the second she disappeared.”
Damian’s glare was instant.
Nika blinked. “Wait, there was a bet?”
“Not officially,” Lian said with a grin.
Damian looked like he wanted to disintegrate on the spot.
Nika just tilted her head, pretending to think. “Huh. So that’s why he glared at me so much back at the hotel.”
“I wasn’t glaring.”
“You were longing with intensity” Lian said.
“I…”
“...brooded with intention,” Lian offered.
Damian turned to leave. “We’re done here. Let’s regroup.”
But Nika reached out — not to stop him, just to catch his sleeve. Barely a touch. Just enough to say I’m fine. You found me.
He stilled. Didn’t speak.
But his fingers brushed hers for half a second enough for her to feel the tension, the anger, the relief and then he was gone, cape fluttering again as he disappeared down the hallway.
Nika stood still for a moment, watching.
Lian, watching her, crossed her arms. “You like him.”
“Obviously.”
“Even when he’s like that?”
“Especially when he’s like that.”
Lian sighed, turning to follow. "You two are exhausting!” But she was smiling, too.