BATBOYS ONE-SHOTS

Dick ~ What Makes A Hero

Rated: PG-13 (language) 

Hero ~ Skillet (y'all requested I keep this song)

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"Would you mind telling me what the hell you were doing?" Nightwing snapped, slamming the front door shut as soon as I'd stepped into my apartment. My heart was racing uncontrollably, and I ignored him in my haste to make it into the bathroom before he could stop me. He was hot on my heels, and just as he'd reached out to me upon my arrival, I'd shut and locked the door in his face. 

"(Y/N), get out here right now!" His muffled voice shot through the door from the other side, but I paid no mind to how violently he was joggling the doorknob when I caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink. Shuddered breaths escaped my parted lips, and I lifted a hand to my swelling cheek, eyeing the bruise that'd already begun to surface.

"I'm not leaving until you open this door!" 

I swallowed a tired groan, knowing very well he was absolutely serious; it wasn't going to be easy getting him to calm down. The situation seemed much worse than it was--my injured cheek, wet, disheveled hair, a tear in my jeans from where I'd been thrown to the sidewalk, and the clotting cut on my arm. It really wasn't going to be easy. After studying myself for another moment, I heaved out a sigh and turned away from the mirror to open the bathroom door. His gloved hand was immediately on my wrist, but I ripped it out of his grasp. Rather than confront him, I kept my head low and stepped past, making my way to the kitchen. Nightwing followed closely behind.

"(Y/N), stop." I turned on the sink's faucet and leaned over the basin on shaking hands. 

"(Y/N), stop."

Slowly, I swallowed thickly and glanced back at him over my shoulder.

"What do you want?" I asked, eyes narrowing before returning to the sink. Nightwing let out a growl and stomped up to me until I could feel his warmth consume me from behind. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter, one on either side of me so I couldn't escape. I huffed, irritated, and fully turned to face him again, folding my arms over my chest to create some distance between us.

"Do you have absolutely any idea what you did tonight?" he muttered, masked eyes boring into mine.

"More or less," I retorted, tilting my chin up challengingly, "I'm pretty sure I saved your life!" 

"No, you put your life in danger!" He shook his head. "You weren't even supposed to be there."

"Might I remind you that without my help, you'd be lying face-down in a gutter with a bullet in the back of your head! I shoved you out of the way!" My argument was weakened by the trembling of my voice. I placed my hands on his chest to try and push him away. He wouldn't budge, his fingers curling around the edge of the counter for stability.

"And, if that bullet would've hit you?" he retorted, searching my face. "What then? What do you think would've happened to you? Not to mention the fact that you still managed to get hurt!" My lips parted as I averted my gaze to the center of his chest.

"I-I... I tripped over a fire hydrant--" 

"You were thrown into the street," he gritted out, "but you know that's not what I'm talking about." 

"...I could have died--" 

"Exactly, you would've died!" I flinched when he suddenly slammed the palms of his hands against the counter, sending a loud bang rolling through the silence. I dipped my head as my eyes fluttered shut, and when I no longer felt his suit beneath my fingertips, I hesitantly looked up to find him pacing in front of me, running both hands through his sweat-damp hair.