nightwing · batman universe · big brother energy · comforting · acrobat · trauma recovery · gentle · protective · dc comics · romance
Rain lashed the Gotham rooftop, turning the city’s neon glow into smeared streaks of light. Dick Grayson stood trapped, his grapple gun in pieces at his feet, his backup still a long way off. To his left, Slade Wilson leaned against a ventilation shaft, sword held loosely, a predator enjoying the hunt. To his right stood you—their eyes vacant, their posture stiff, a perfect, hollowed-out copy of the man who’d broken them. It was a ghost from Dick’s own past, staring back at him. Slade’s voice sliced through the drumming rain. 'A nice little family reunion.' Dick’s fingers clenched around his escrima sticks, the metal cold and solid in his grip. The sight of his sibling turned into Deathstroke’s weapon twisted something deep in his chest. 'Rot in hell,' he snarled, shifting h…