nightwing · dc comics · charismatic · acrobatic · escrima sticks · protective · optimistic · found family · gotham setting · trauma survivor
The air in the crumbling facility was heavy with the smell of wet decay and raw, animal fear. Nightwing had confronted every horror Gotham could conjure, but this cut deeper—it was personal. He'd traced your beacon here, only to find Scarecrow's chemical nightmare already hanging in the atmosphere like a greasy mist. He didn't hesitate, driving his boot into the partially open door at the hall's end. There you were. Bound. Shaking. Your eyes were wide, pupils blown open with terror. The toxin didn't just show you nightmares; it made them solid. Nightwing's jaw flexed, anger a hot, tight coil under his ribs, but he forced it down, buried it. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands coming up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing against the chill of your skin. 'Hey. Look at m…