Hunted Heart (Batman Fanfic)

"I want information on someone."

Her voice was sweet as honey, indicating his client was in fact hiding something. Dick cleared his throat, but also took a deep breath. "I'm a private investigator. All of my clients are either wanting help to find someone or something, they want to know if their spouse is cheating on them, of they want information on someone." His bright blue looked right into her own. "Please don't be another person wanting information on Batman despite the fact I clearly put it on my website I don't go looking into superheroes, irony being I know the identity of every single one."

"I want information on Bruce Wayne."

Dick's jaw clenched, his hand's moving from the cold café table to the wheels of his wheelchair. "Say what?"

The young woman's dark locks cascaded down around her face. She was pretty, he must admit, but now wasn't the time for crushing on some strange girl, particularly not with his track record. "You heard me. Bruce Wayne. The multi-dollar millionaire?"

"Billionaire." Dick corrected, his hands hitting the wheels of his chair to make a speedy getaway. "And the answer is no. I'm drawing the line."

"Hold on." The female moved quickly, getting in front of him and putting her hands onto the armrests preventing him from moving forward. "I know for a fact you draw the line at looking into superheroes, but I've been told while you're good – ex-cop and all, that you're in need of money."

His mouth twisted into a frown, but his hands moved so that the chair backed away from the woman. "Stay out of my private business."

Heading back to the office, Dick knew he shouldn't have raised his tone of voice with the young lady, yet things spiraled recently – or not so recently – out of his control. Thankfully, his office and place of living wasn't too far from the small café he'd agreed meeting her at. He hit the button on the elevator and rode up, pleased the elevator didn't break down like other days. Arriving at his apartment, he felt warm, yet tired, and rolled himself into the bedroom.

Opening up the nightstand, he opened up the drawer, pulling out the letter Bruce wrote him. Underneath was a new Nightwing costume, one he'd likely never get to use.

Dick,
I want to yell at you, to tell you that you're fired. However, I promised last time I wouldn't do that; that it was your choice. I sent Alfred with a new suit, so that if you choose you might come back. Except, I know despite this gesture I've still managed to take that choice away, haven't I? For that, I'm sorry. I'm also sorry for not coming to see you, but I figure you don't want to see me right now. So, I'll let the decision be your choice, but if you need anything – ask Alfred, at least until you're ready.

Love, your father,
Bruce
P.S. – The father part is a gesture. I don't want to ever make you feel as if I'm trying to replace your real dad. He wouldn't have found the need to write you a letter old sport.

A sigh escaped his lips as he put the letter back into the drawer. "I can very well take care of myself Bruce."

Pushing himself up from the chair, he attempted lift himself up into the bed, only for his arms – now the strongest part of his body – to give out from underneath him, making him crash hard to the ground. The wheelchair skittered across the floor, crashing into the wall. Dick let out a groan, his entire body shuttering. "Why the hell did it have to be incomplete paralysis?"

Getting onto his side proved no easy task, but he mentally cursed himself for not paying attention to the signs of having come down with something sooner. His eyes closed, nodding off for a bit to retrieve some level of energy to pull his sorry state into the bed. A noise from the office area woke him, telling him someone was in the office looking into his files. Pushing himself up, he quickly found the fever still hitting hard and heavy.

The doorknob turned, making him curse. A person stepped in, yet he could honestly do nothing. He did, however, recognize the person in her wonderous purple outfit. "Ugh... Huntress." The woman's eyes blinked, before stepping over. Kneeling down, she lifted slightly, helping him up into the bed. "A Flying Grayson? Pitiful. Completely, utterly useless."

He settled into sitting on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard. She removed her hand from one glove, pressing the back against his hot forehead. "Would you have been alright had I not shown up Grayson."

"She does not know you're Nightwing. She does not know." Glancing away from the nightstand hoping to draw attention from the not so secret place, he spoke. "I can take care of myself."

"I'm not denying the fact you can normally take care of yourself, just..." He turned his head in time to feel his lips locking with hers. Eventually she pulled away, giving his leg a quick squeeze. "Maybe that will make it more your day than not?"

"That was." Dick took a deep breath. He found himself unable to say anything, his mind to feverish. When she helped him under the covers, he quickly nodded off.

He awoke to sunshine, feeling much better. His wheelchair was next to his bed, and when he opened the drawer, everything was where he left it, making him wonder if he'd simply had some strange nightmare the night before. Taking a deep breath, he lifted himself into the chair, glad there was no fever to negatively affect his movement. His hands touched the wheels, guiding him out of the room, only to find himself greeted by smells of breakfast.

"You." His throat tightened in surprise.

Breakfast was cooking, but she – in her civilian form, was looking through his files. She seemed unfazed by his entrance.

"You can't just..."

"You never asked why I was looking for information on Bruce Wayne, did you?" She flipped through the papers. "Looks like the reasons your low on funds is because you've had to refuse good paying jobs because they required the use of legs. I could..."

"I am not trading your legs..." That felt so wrong to say. "For information on Bruce."

"No. Nightwing is very loyal to Batman." She looked up. "Don't worry. I already knew he was Batman before I came looking for information. Personally, I don't want him to know I exist."

"What do you mean? Who are you? I didn't catch your name yesterday."

"Because I never gave it. It's Helena Kyle or Helena Wayne, take your pick." A grin spread across her face. "Is that a blush, Mister Grayson?"

"I... what do you want?"

"To get to know my father better."

"I said I wasn't going to give you information."

"I'll collect my own, I think by being your girlfriend, if you don't mind. You don't have one, do you?"

"What?" Dick's eyes blinked.