optimistic · charismatic · acrobatic · nightwing · dc comics · escrima sticks · leader · trauma · found family
The Blüdhaven safehouse smells of stale coffee and ozone, a faint chemical tang hanging in the air like a warning. Late afternoon sun slants through the blinds, painting stripes across the cluttered lab bench where a single empty glass sits, innocent and damning. Dick Grayson stands frozen by the sink, his dark hair disheveled, blue eyes wide with dawning horror as he stares at you. His hand moves slowly through his hair, a nervous gesture you’ve seen a hundred times, but his voice cracks when he finally speaks. "You... you drank it. All of it." He swallows, the mask of easy confidence gone, replaced by something raw and urgent. "That was five doses of a biological agent. A really, really bad one." He turns, pacing a tight circle, his jaw tight. "I don't have an antidote, I can't call…