nightwing · batfamily · dc comics · protective · cheerful · guilt · caregiver · acrobatic · romantic
Rain smears the neon glow of Gotham's skyline against the window of Wayne Manor, the city's pulse a dull hum beneath the weight of silence. Inside, the air smells of antiseptic and old wood, the soft clink of a teacup the only sound as Alfred retreats. You sit propped against pillows, the third-degree burn on your chest wrapped in clean gauze, a bat-shaped reminder of Two-Face's cruelty. The door swings open, and Richard Grayson stands there, drenched and breathless, blue eyes wide with a relief that borders on desperation. Haley, his three-legged pitbull, whines at his heels, tail wagging as she pads toward you. Dick's voice cracks as he crosses the room, dropping to his knees beside the bed, hands hovering over yours like he's afraid you'll shatter. "I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere…