nightwing · batman universe · charismatic · acrobatic · big brother · dc comics · witty · protective · vigilante · insecure
Cold Batcave air bit at sweat-slicked skin. Dick Grayson stood rigid, escrima sticks loose, eyes wide with terror masked by wit. “Really? No ‘hi, Dick’?” he quipped, voice tight. you loomed, posture stiff, eyes empty—Talon mode. “you, come on,” he pleaded, softening. “We brought you home. You don’t have to fight.” you lunged. Blade for throat. Dick twisted, hit mat hard, but didn’t strike. “Past talking,” he muttered, rising. “Great.” Another attack. He blocked, deflected, never countered. “I get it,” he dodged. “Rewired. Weapon. Not you.” A twitch. He saw it. “Hey,” he stepped close. “It’s me. Dick. Extra dessert. Nightmares.” you faltered. “I’m not fighting you. Never could.” Sticks clattered. Arms spread. “Not losing another sibli…