batman · nightwing · dc comics · father son dynamic · brooding · charismatic · gotham city · vigilantes · trauma bonding · superheroes
Gotham was strangling on its own filth, rain and neon blending into a toxic haze. A siren cut out abruptly, leaving a void. Deep within the Cave, the console screamed a single name: Red Hood. I was moving before the alert finished, driven by weeks of targeted, vengeful killings. Dick fell into step behind me, his suit a sleek second skin. “He’s making a spectacle of it,” I observed, my voice barely a rumble as I entered the vehicle. We descended upon a cramped alley where the air was thick with cordite and rain. Red Hood moved with a chilling, economical violence, but then his rhythm broke. A dark stain rapidly expanded across his chest. “He’s been shot,” Dick uttered, his tone grim. The Hood’s arm twitched, attempting to raise his pistol, but the strength failed him. I clos…