Chapter Text
It’s not uncommon to deal with creeps in this line of work.
Briar is doing what she can to support herself in this shitty city, but surviving Bludhaven is better than what she left behind. She can deal with horrible customers if it means she gets their money in the end—she still needs a few hundred bucks to cover this month’s rent. She can handle weird requests, slurred insults, or even people being a little rough, but she’s become adept at discerning those who are likely to be violent. Only, they don’t always take kindly to being told no.
The bastard snaps at her, reeking of alcohol, and swings wildly, catching her in the jaw with his fist. She staggers a little, caught off guard, but he advances on her in a fit of rage, trapping her against the wall. She ducks down, hoping to protect her head and the more sensitive parts of her torso, and the douchebag takes it as a sign to start kicking. She curls up on the ground, hoping that staying still will eventually make him lose interest, and resigns herself to mentally calculating how much money she’s going to lose on having to buy makeup to cover up all her bruises. And to think, this guy wasn’t even going to pay her after all the trouble he’s caused.
Suddenly, the guy is being pulled off her, and she looks up in time to see him stagger back with a slurred exclamation and be punched in the face. He falls to the ground like a pile of bricks, knocked out cold. She turns to look at her savior and is surprised to see Nightwing standing there, haloed by the flickering streetlight like some sort of avenging angel.
He scowls down at the unconscious drunk, nudging him a little to be sure he’s out before turning to look at her, schooling his face into something calm and reassuring. He reaches a hand down towards her, and she allows him to help her to her feet.
“A bit of a silly question,” he says with a smile, as she brushes off some of the dirt and general grime. “But are you okay?” He seems genuinely concerned, like he feels bad he wasn’t there earlier. She’d be touched, except for the fact that she knows no one cares for people like her.
“I’ll be fine.” She reassures carelessly, not sure why he’s still hanging around.
He frowns a little, bangs falling in his face as he shifts. “I have some first aid supplies, if you need them.”
“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
His features darken a little. “Any self-respecting man shouldn't get off on hurting someone else.” He says, glancing at the unconscious man again, but she doesn't think it was meant for her to hear.
She isn’t sure why he hasn't disappeared back into the shadows yet. She’s heard of Nightwing, of course; you don’t get to stay in Bludhaven very long without knowing who he is, but certainly he has other things to do. A vigilante like him is on par with Gotham’s Batman—he should be fighting supervillains and busting drug deals, not stopping petty crimes. Unless… Oh. That must be it. She looks down at her clothes, hoping they're clean enough for her to still be appealing.
“If you wanted my thanks, I can give you a free session.” She offers, glancing back to where he had been before, only to find he’s not there. Instead, he’s kneeling by the unconscious man’s side, flipping casually through his wallet. His head whips up from what he was doing, turning to look at her, stunned. She can tell by his shocked reaction and the slight embarrassed blush that works its way across his cheeks that he wasn’t expecting the offer.
“Oh, um,” He stutters, feeling wrong-footed. “I was just…” He holds up the man’s wallet by way of explanation.
She cuts him off with a laugh. “I won’t be offended if you say no.” She says, amusement filling her voice. It was funny to see someone who was supposed to be charismatic and flirty all flustered over something as simple as a quickie in an alleyway. “I just didn’t know why else you’d stick around, is all.”
He pulls what he was looking for out of the wallet and tucks it back in the man’s pocket before walking over to her and handing it over. “I figured he didn’t pay you.” He explains, as if that justified the large amount of money she held in her hands. “It’s not like he’ll need it,” he shrugs carelessly. There’s a moment of silence, where she’s just staring at the bills in her hands, and it makes him nervous. “Is that enough? It’s all he had in his wallet.” He explains, as if trying to give an excuse.
She grins up at him, tucking the money away. “It’s plenty. Thanks for the help.”
He nods, seeming relieved. “Good. Well, I'll get out of your hair and get this guy dropped off at the police station. I can’t imagine a vigilante hanging around is good for business.”
“Maybe not,” she agrees noncommittally and watches as he picks the guy up and swings away.
She leans against the wall, watching the direction he disappears in contemplatively. She’ll have to keep an ear to the ground about Nightwing to learn more about him and his motives. A working girl like her can never be too trusting, but it would be nice to have someone in her corner if she needed it. For now, she’ll be cautiously optimistic.
___ ___ ___
Bludhaven is freezing in the winter.
Luna knows this. She is intimately aware of the fact, seeing as she’s trying to leech as much warmth as she can from the alleyway’s brick walls while still appearing unbothered enough to attract customers. Right now, she’d kill to have a client, if just for the body heat alone, but no one else is stupid enough to be out on a night like this.
No one except Nightwing.
He drops down in front of her in the full light of the street lamp, probably in an attempt not to scare her. Still, she can’t help her surprise, as he’s the first person she’s seen in over an hour. He smiles at her, polite and friendly, but doesn’t get within touching range. She kind of wishes he would—he’s not even shivering, so that suit of his must be warm.
“Slow night?” He asks congenially.
“Are you here to quicken it up?” She flirts, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
He laughs, but it’s pleased and charming, not dismissive and disgusted like she thought it might be. Sure, Briar had said that he wasn’t interested in her, but sometimes that means that people find their particular profession to be repulsive.
“A little cold for that, don’t you think?” He asks, and the sound of his voice is almost enough to make her melt.
“There’s always someone, even on nights like this.”
“Are you heading home soon?” He asks, his cheery voice taking on a concerned tone, even as he tries to hide it.
“I’ll probably be out for another few hours.” She tries to say it casually, like it isn’t that big of a deal, but it obviously doesn’t work because she watches his mouth twist into a frown.
“How much will it take for you to go home?” he asks, catching her off guard with his direct questioning.
“What?”
“You’re planning on staying out here to get another client, assumedly because you need the money. Otherwise, you would have gone home, like everyone else. And seeing as your fingers are starting to turn blue, I figure it must be really important. So, how much?”
“Eight hundred dollars.”
He stares at her consideringly for a moment, but then nods, the blinding cheerful smile back on his face. “I’ll be back,” he promises, and she’s polite enough to keep her snort of laughter to herself until after he leaves.
Yeah, right.
She mostly gave him such a high number just to get him off her back. He may be nice, but she doesn’t need him telling her how to do her job. If she’s lucky, that will keep him away from her for the rest of the night. Sure, she knows that being out tonight is a terrible idea—it’s literally snowing, for crying out loud—but she wasn’t lying earlier when she said that there’s usually someone who will be looking for her services, even on a night like this. They’re just fewer and farther between than on regular nights. And she’s obviously not here for her health, but she has her reasons. Winter months tend to be slower in a general sense, and she’s fallen behind on a few of her bills, so any extra money she gets will help.
She settles back into her spot, leaning against the brick wall, thinking warm thoughts and manifesting a customer. Only when she spots a figure twenty minutes later, it’s not a customer; it’s Nightwing again. She resists the urge to groan and steps towards him to yell at him to leave her alone, but he speaks up before she has a chance to open her mouth.
“Eight hundred dollars, as requested,” he says cheerfully, holding out the money for her to take. She grabs it from him in something like awe, surprise building in her chest as she counts the bills and confirms that she’s holding eight hundred fucking dollars in her hands. She glances up at him, stunned, and he holds out what appears to be a wool dress coat for her to take as well. “I also brought this, because you didn’t look like you had a coat with you. Will you get out of the cold now?” He asks, sounding nervous, like he’d really like her to, but doesn’t want to force her hand. She’s almost certain that if she asked him to get her a cup of hot coffee, he’d come back with an entire Starbucks.
Briar had mentioned that he seemed like he genuinely cared about her well-being, but she didn’t mention that he was fucking insane.
“Yeah, I’ll go home.” She confirms, unable to keep the threads of disbelief from lining her voice.
He steps closer, draping the coat around her shoulders, seeing as she makes no move to take it from him as well.
“Where did all this come from?” She asks as she slides her arms through the sleeves, immediately feeling much warmer.
He grinned at her, like sharing a secret. “No one who will miss it.”
She isn’t entirely sure what that means, but as long as no one is going to come hunt her down for it back, she isn’t going to pry. “Well, thank you.” She says. She feels a little bad for thinking so harshly of him earlier.
“Want me to walk you home?” He offers, his tone not indicating a preference either way.
She just blinks at him. Maybe chivalry isn’t dead, but instead, every scrap of it in the world got trapped in Nightwing’s soul. “I’m a big girl.” She teases. “I can make the walk myself.”
“Fair enough,” he concedes, taking a step back. “Stay warm.”
She buttons the coat, tucking the money away, and when she looks back up to wish him the same, he’s already gone.
___ ___ ___
“This doesn’t look like a good place to sleep.”
Mira startles as a voice pulls her out of her thoughts. She’s huddled behind a dumpster, the large, metal container blocking her view from the street, with a blanket pulled over her legs. She glances up to see Nightwing, who sits down on the dirty ground next to her, seemingly uncaring of the filth that is leaking from the dumpster. Mira is surprised to see him.
She’s heard rumors about him from the other working girls over the past few months, stories of how he helps them out, seems to care about them, tries to prevent unnecessary violence, and will drag away unruly patrons if they ask. She just never thought she’d meet him. Despite everything she’s heard, she has trouble believing it—not when it seems too good to be true.
“I can give you some money for a hotel for a few nights.” He continues when she just stares at him warily. “That’s got to be better than this.”
“They won’t take me.” She explains. It’s not like she’s camping here because she likes it.
He tilts his head a little, like a confused puppy. “What do you mean?” He seems like he genuinely doesn’t understand the problem.
“The local hotels won’t let us in. They don’t want their beds to be used for our services.”
“But you’re not working. You’re just going to be sleeping.”
“They don’t seem to care.” She shrugs. It’s not like she hasn’t tried.
He leans back, frowning a little, and seems to think. “Well, I understand if you don’t want to, because you’ve never met me before, but you could stay at one of my places if you want.” He offers. “And I don’t want anything from you. Not like a free session, or anything.” He preempts, seeming to understand that was what she was going to offer next. “I'd just feel better if you were somewhere safer,” he pauses, glancing at the dumpster and general filth on the ground, “and cleaner.”
“What is one of your places?” She questions. She needs to know the details before she commits to anything.
“I have a couple of safe houses around the city, in case I’m injured or just need a place to rest that’s closer than my main place. I don’t really use the one that’s closest to us, so it’s not very well stocked, but it should at least have a bed and a change of clothes. I won’t stay with you, and you can lock the doors and windows and get clean and some rest, if you’d like.”
That sounds nice. That sounds really nice. But it also sounds suspicious. She doesn’t care if Briar says he doesn’t want their bodies, or Luna says he’s a knight in shining blue and black kevlar, or Frost says that he treated her wounds, or Autumn says he locked her abusive pimp in jail. There’s no way he doesn’t have an ulterior motive. No one just helps out people like them, not just for the sake of helping. She isn’t sure why or what kind of long con he has planned to get them all thoroughly entrenched in his debt, but she debates her options and finds she doesn’t have much of a choice.
Even if he is a creep, she’ll be safer under a roof somewhere, and she’s desperate for a shower right now. Maybe she can even find something there to defend herself with if he turns out to be trouble. She isn’t sure how well she’d hold up against a trained vigilante, but she’s had to defend herself plenty of times and knows how to fight dirty.
“Fine.” She concedes. “But don’t think I won’t hurt you if you do anything strange.”
“If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you are more than welcome to.” He agrees easily. “Do you have anything you want to bring with you?” He asks, standing to his feet and being sure to give her space. She grabs her meager belongings and follows him out of the alleyway.
“Here it is,” he says grandly, pushing the door open and letting her follow him inside. The place is sparse and unkempt, but the light turns on when he flicks the switch, and the sink at the small kitchenette has water. “It’s not much, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like.” He grins at her, handing over the key. “Someone might as well get some use out of it. Feel free to lock the door or barricade the windows, or do whatever you want with it. You have the keys now, so I’ll have to knock the next time I come over.” He glances through the cabinets, finding nothing but cobwebs in the pantry. “I’ll have to bring over some food then too,” he says, though he seems to be talking to himself.
“You gave me the only key?” She asks skeptically.
“Sure,” he agrees readily. “I was the only person who knew about this place, so why would I need an extra key?”
She stares at him, trying to decide if he’s kind or really stupid. “And you’re going to let me have it, just like that?”
“Like I said, it’s not like I was using it. I own the place, so it’s like there’s rent to pay, and I’ll stop by with some groceries in a few days, but other than that, do what you like. The money for a hotel was only a temporary solution anyway. You don’t have to, of course.” He says, like he’s nervous about upsetting her by giving her a free place to live. “I don’t want to make you feel like you’re trapped or that you owe me something or anything. I’ll just sleep better at night knowing you’re not on the streets.”
“I’ll stay, at least for a few nights, but no promises.” She cautioned, but he lit up anyway.
“That’s great. Let me know if you have any problems. Otherwise, let me get out of your hair for now. Have a good night.” He cheers and locks the door, pulling it shut behind him.
Mira darts forward, locking the deadbolt as well and waiting for his footsteps to fade. She then checks to see if all the windows are locked and shuts the blinds. She tentatively investigates the rest of the small place, finding a bedroom, a bathroom, and a few mostly empty closets. She looks through the living room and kitchen area, snagging a knife from one of the drawers before heading back towards the bathroom.
She tests the shower, relieved to find it working with warm water, and digs up a towel from one of the closets. She also finds a few pairs of clothes and picks out a smaller set that seems like they would be comfortable. She brings it all back to the bathroom, setting down her items on the counter, keeping the knife close by, and locking the bathroom door. She will shower quickly and has the knife to defend herself if anyone tries to break in.
After scrubbing the grime away, she dresses in the slightly oversized clothing, relocating to the bedroom. She’s too nervous to sleep, sitting on the bed with her back against the headboard, knife by her side as her heart pounds, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It never does.
Over the next few weeks, she starts to adjust. Nightwing brings her food a few days after, seeming pleased that she was continuing to use the space. Mira started inviting other girls over, at first to watch her back while she rested, and then just so they had a place to go. Nightwing seemed delighted at the additional people, making sure to learn their names and add their preferences to the food he brought, buying more and more.
Soon, it filled with life, gaining decorations and becoming homey. Two months after first introducing her to the place, Mira dubs him Darling as a sign of trust and an act of discretion. It wasn’t exactly smart for all of them to go around talking about being involved with Nightwing, after all. That was a good way to get targeted by trouble. Word spreads about Darling’s place, and it doesn’t take long for there to be two or three girls there most nights, now able to sleep on a plush couch or large bed.
It became a safe space for her fellow working girls, and Mira is glad to help out where she can. She is more glad that she took a chance to trust him that first time all those months ago and does her best to reassure others about Darling’s genuine intent to help.
___ ___ ___
“Darling!” Briar calls excitedly.
It’s always nice when he comes to visit them when they're at work. Sometimes he brings food and drinks or things to take back to their place, and other times he just brings good company or local gossip. He always tries to check in on all of them at least once every few weeks, not including the time he stops by their place. He has a keen sense for when they're busy and never shows up when they have clients, but they always appreciate him livening up their slow times.
Today, he looks worried.
“You’ve got to get away from here.” He says as he lands in front of them. “The warehouse across the street is rigged to blow. You need to hurry.”
Briar turns to Ember, who looks over at Darling from where she’s tending to Luna. “Luna is injured.” Ember explains, “We’ll never make it.”
“I’ll take her.” Darling assures. “You two, get away from here as fast as you can.”
Briar scoops up her things and grabs Ember’s hand, tugging her away from Luna. “We’ve got to go.” She urges. “We can trust him.” She reassures as she starts to pull her down the street, away from the warehouse. Ember is newer and is still adjusting to their undying trust in Darling, and while Briar understands the hesitation, there’s no time for that right now.
Darling turns to Luna as the others disappear around the corner. “Where are you hurt?”
“Just my ribs. I think they’re probably just bruised.” Some asshole thought it’d be fun to kick her while she was down—literally—but Darling doesn’t need to know that. She can fight her own battles, and considering the asshole took a pair of high heels to the face, she’d say she won.
“I’m going to use my grapple to get us out of here. It’s faster than trying to run. Is that okay with you?”
She’s never used a grappling hook before and has only really seen Darling throw himself around with one, but if it means getting to live to see another day, then fuck it: time for her first ride. “That’s fine, Darling. Let’s get out of here.”
He helps her stand, and she wraps her arms around his neck as he wraps an arm around her waist, the other shooting the grapple into the air. It’s a weird sensation, the rising and falling between buildings, almost like being on a rollercoaster, and sooner than she expects, they stop.
The ground shakes as the explosion rips through the air, and even though they are a safe way away, Luna can see the burst of flames in the distance. Just watching it, she can imagine the heat rolling off of it and feels the phantom tingling of it against her skin. She shivers involuntarily at the thought.
“That looks like it was bad.”
Darling frowns a little, glancing over at the plumes of smoke. “It was. I’m glad I got to you in time.” He turns back to her. “How are you feeling? Can you breathe okay? No nausea or anything?”
“I’m fine,” she reassures. “Not bad for my first grapple ride, huh?” She says, somewhat teasing, hoping to drain some of the tension from him.
“You did great. No screaming in fear or anything,” he grins.
She shrugs, “I knew you wouldn’t drop me.” She says sincerely, and he seems touched at her faith in him, glancing back at the desolate warehouse like he thinks it’s unfounded. That won’t do. “Be careful now. The others are going to be jealous when they find out you gave me a ride. Soon we’re going to be asking you to give us a session.”
That’s enough to make him laugh, not missing the double entendre. There’s no harm in flirting with someone when you both know it's all in good fun. “I hope not.” He smiles at her, more genuinely this time. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone jealous.”
“There you guys are!” Briar’s voice interrupts, and they turn to see her and Ember walking towards them.
“Are you both okay?” Darling questions, anxious concern immediately seeping back into his voice.
“We’re fine, Darling,” Briar reassures. “Got all our limbs and everything.” She’s used to his somewhat overwhelming care and concern for them at this point and just rolls her eyes. Ember, however, seems touched by his inquiry. Luna is amused. Give it a few months, and she’ll find it as unnecessary as they do.
“Good, good,” Darling says, trailing off. “I’m glad I was able to get you all away in time. I swear some of these gangs have no sympathy for the innocent people who might get caught in the crossfire.” He runs a hand through his hair, seeming stressed.
“Sounds like you’ve been busy,” Luna prompts.
“Almost too busy,” Briar agrees, squinting at Darling in consideration, trying to see if he’s been taking care of himself. For someone so insistent on their well-being, he’s an awful hypocrite.
He doesn’t seem to hear what they’re saying, too busy being lost in thought. “You know,” he starts with a slightly self-deprecating tone that leaves Luna knowing she isn’t going to like this. “Red Hood is doing a lot of work in Crime Alley in Gotham. He has a whole team of people who keep an eye out for the working girls there. You’d be in much better hands if you—“
“We aren’t going anywhere.” Luna cuts in, jabbing a finger in his chest, which seems to grab his attention. “If you think that after all this time you can start bossing us around, then you’ve got another thing coming.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He backpedals.
“I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your head,” Briar agrees, “but we aren’t leaving you or Bludhaven.”
“Right, of course,” he agrees readily. “I wasn’t trying to kick you out. I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe and—“
“And you kept us safe tonight,” Luna says, staring him right in the lenses of his mask, hoping direct eye contact would drive the point home. “Why would we go anywhere else?”
“I think this calls for a night in. Ember, if you will.”
Ember seems to have warmed up to Darling; whether it be because of him protecting them tonight, carrying Luna to safety, or their current conversation, Briar isn’t sure. Whatever the reason, Ember seems to catch on to their intentions, easily throwing him over her shoulders and hooking an arm around his legs. He lets out a small yelp at the sudden movement but stills as Ember balances his weight evenly on both her shoulders, draping him across her like a weird scarf.
“This is uncalled for,” he pouts minutely, “but also very impressive.”
“Some people like to be thrown around,” Briar explains easily. “Ember’s the girl for the job.”
“I find working out to be a good stress reliever,” Ember explains. “And this job has a lot of stress.”
Darling laughs a little. “I imagine it does. Well then,” He seems resigned to his fate, not making any move to escape even though Luna is sure he could if he wanted. “Where are you taking me, my cruel, cruel captors?”
They laugh at his dramatics.
“Girls' night in. You get to be an honorary girl, if for nothing else than that you pay for our streaming services.” Briar teases.
“I need to redo my nails,” Luna agrees, “and Ember is still learning a new makeup look.”
“Briar has been giving weekly updates about her on-again-off-again situationship,” Ember says mischievously. Briar groans at the mention, which makes Ember think she has more news.
“Boy talk!” Darling exclaims, looking delighted. “I can join in with that. And, well, if you have a nice blue nail polish, I suppose I can spare a few hours. I’ll have to let the others know I’m being maliciously held captive and not to bother me.”
Luna vaguely knows that Darling runs in the same circles as the Bats, and he mentioned Red Hood earlier, but she isn’t sure how far his web of vigilante relations goes. She isn’t sure she wants to find out. God forbid anything ever happens to Darling; not only are all of them going to revolt, but they’ll be Bats raining down on Bludhaven. She isn’t sure the city would survive.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Briar says. “Back to Darling’s place. We’ll keep a slow pace for Luna’s ribs and Ember’s extra weight.”
Darling glances back at Luna. “You all have painkillers at the safehouse, right? I can always get you some more.”
“We have plenty,” Luna reassures. “You’ll be the first to know when we run out. Now let’s get going. There are some leftovers in the fridge that have my name on them.”
___ ___ ___
Dick didn’t realize how much the knowledge of his helping the working girls in Bludhaven had spread until one of them pulled him aside in Gotham.
“Nightwing!” Someone calls out to him. “Nightwing! Darling!” It takes until she calls him darling for him to realize it’s not coming from his comm. Only a specific set of people call him that. He turns to see someone trying to get his attention from a nearby alleyway and approaches her carefully. “I’m so glad I saw you passing by.” The girl says, sounding relieved. “I need your help. My friend, Angel, got abducted from her usual spot a few nights ago, and I haven’t heard from her since. I heard rumors that there's a new drug going around the streets, and they need test subjects, but I can’t let them do that to my friend. You’ve got to help me!” She insists.
Dick has a sneaking suspicion he knows the exact group that she’s talking about. They’ve been following some groups who have been trying to recreate Scarecrow’s fear toxin to sell it while he’s locked up in Arkham. That’s part of why Dick is here in Gotham in the first place. He didn’t know they were going to be experimenting on people, though. The thought makes his blood boil.
“Do you have any other information you can give me?”
The girl shakes her head. “That’s all I know.”
“That’s okay.” He reassures. “Do you have a safe place you can go? You probably shouldn’t be out on the streets while people are being taken.”
“Yeah, we have an apartment together. Can you bring her back there if you find her?” She asks, giving him the address.
“Of course. Now stay safe, alright?”
She leaves, heading back towards what Dick hopes is her apartment, and while she seems relieved, he can tell she’s still anxious. Time to get to work. He follows his current intel to an abandoned factory near the docks and puts on his rebreather, just to be sure. His comm is active but currently silenced. If all goes well, he’ll have some good news for Oracle in just a few hours.
To his luck, and slight dismay, he’s right.
He watches from his spot in the rafters as the group bustles around a makeshift machine, bubbling with some sort of nasty-looking concoction. It appears to be being synthesized and then divided into little vials, which are being packed away, presumably to be sold later. He doesn’t see anyone who appears to be there against their will, which means they must be keeping her somewhere else. He drops down to the ground, opting for stealth, and takes out a small handful of the guards before being noticed.
“It’s the bats!” someone shouts, and all attention is on him. He throws down a smoke bomb, creating panic and confusion, hoping that they’ll think there’s more than just him. Maybe it’s stupid for him to try and take them all down by himself instead of waiting for backup, but he has a victim to find, and he’s not taking any chances. The longer he waits, the higher the chance there is that this unknown concoction gets tested on someone, and unknown formulas can be dangerous—especially when the people making them don’t know what they’re doing.
He takes down the last few guys as the smoke clears, zip-tying their hands and removing all their weapons. Just because everyone here is down for the count doesn’t mean he’s won. He wouldn’t be surprised if more people were roaming the building.
“O,” he says quietly into his comms. “I got a present for you.”
He can hear the slight grin in her voice as she replies. “Is that so? What is it?”
“Took down a group trying to synthesize some more fear toxin out by the docks. They’re all tied up and knocked out for now, but rumor is they took hostages. I need some backup to deal with these guys and take care of the toxin while I look for them. If I do find someone locked away back here, I don’t plan to stick around.”
“Batman and Robin are on their way to your location,” Oracle confirms. “Good luck, boy wonder.”
“Thanks, O.” He says, and flicks his comm back off again.
He advances further into the warehouse, looking through the various rooms and offshoots. He starts to get a sinking feeling in his chest as he checks more and more places to find no one, but eventually finds a hallway with two guards at the end. He knocks them out quickly, tying them up as well, and peeks into the small room nearby.
Relief floods him as he spots a young woman, tied up in the corner. He steps closer, trying to evaluate if she’s been drugged with anything, when her head whips up and she glares at him.
“Don’t come any closer.” She warns. “I’ll fucking kill you if you lay your hands on me.”
She squints through the darkness, trying to keep an eye on him in the dingy light as he steps forward, hoping that she’ll recognize him.
“I mean it, you fucking creep.” She yells, picking up a small rock with her bound hands and throwing it at him.
He dodges it, crouching down in front of her and holding his hands up slightly to show her he doesn’t have any weapons. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He tries to reassure. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
“You’re going to drug me.” She accuses. “Why else would you be wearing that?”
She makes a fair point. He takes the rebreather off and tucks it away. “Are you Angel? Your friend asked me to find you and bring you home.” He lists off the address he was given, and she eyes him with reluctant trust.
“Why would she do that? Who are you?” She asks, still suspicious, even as she relaxes a little.
Either Angel is new to the city, or Dick isn’t in Gotham enough for the people to be familiar with him.
“I’m Nightwing.”
“You’re from Bludhaven,” Angel says, something seeming to register in her mind. “You’re…”
“I’m Darling.” He confirms.
“You’re Darling!?” She exclaims, torn between relief and disbelief. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never met you before. I’ve heard rumors, but I’ve never seen you in person, so I didn’t know what you looked like. Yes, please, get me out of here.”
He laughs a little at the easy acceptance and moves closer, cutting the rope wrapped around her. She rises to her feet, stretching out her sore limbs.
“They didn’t hurt you or inject you with anything, did they?” He says, glancing over her for any obvious signs of injury.
“No, but they threatened to a few times. I don’t think it was actually ready yet. Or maybe they were scared because I kept biting anyone who got close.” She says, a mischievous glint in her eye.
Dick smiles. “Good. Now, let’s get you home.”