Genocide (Nightwing x OC)

Bodyguard

October 18

"Can you get a hold of her?"

"No, she isn't answering. Where could she be?"

"Maybe she's out on a job? Too busy killing people to worry about us"

"That's possible. I'll try her again"

My foot tapped against the floor as I watched two men trying to call Genocide, about to fall asleep from boredom. I had been kidnapped. My arms were restrained and they were watching me with guns in their hands.

"Why don't you two just take charge? Do whatever it is was going to be done yourselves," I say.

The one who wasn't on the phone replied. "We have no idea why she wants you. We were only told to grab you"

"That gives me an idea," the other says, pocketing his phone. "Come here"

They both took a couple steps away from me and huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. I tried to strain my hearing, hoping to be able to pick up some words, but they were talking too quietly.

My eyes narrowed as they came back over to me. One of them untied the ropes around my body, leaving the ones binding my hands and feet together. The other started to undress me, well he tried. He had pulled out a knife and cut open my top, leaving it to hang like a cardigan.

"What are you going to do?" I ask.

"We're having a little fun, since our boss is awol"

He went to cut my skirt but I kicked him. "Your boss is right here"

The other one chuckles. "Ha, nice try"

I stand up on the chair and jump over the men, landing on my feet. I jumped through my arms so they were no longer behind me and untied the ropes. Once untied I made my hair turn into its black colour.

"You two are the stupidest men I have ever hired," I mutter.

"W-what?!" One of them shrieks.

"Yes, Genocide is Sage Brook, how exciting is that?" I ask, faking excitement.

They both raced for the door, shoving each other out of the way, but I raised a hand. Rose bushes sprouted up from the concrete ground, making them stop before they would get pricked.

"Ah, it's always so much more fun when you can practically smell the fear"

They both stared at me with fear in their eyes. I made a blade appear in my hand while sauntering over to them. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and in my eyes death and destruction was beautiful.

One of the men was left with blood dripping from his throat and cuts all over his chest. The other had a broken arm and a stab wound straight through his heart. They both laid in a pool of their own blood.

I made the knife disappear and my hair turn back into blonde, tying myself up and sitting on the chair. Minutes later Nightwing burst in through the door and I made some tears drop.

"Help me," I cry.

He rushed over, quickly untying me. My shirt was still cut, revealing my bra, but I acted as if it wasn't the worst thing right now.

"What happened?" He asks, looking over to the two dead bodies.

"They were going to do something to me, but Genocide showed up and killed them for going out of line. She left before you got here. I thought she was going to kill me"

"It's alright, I'll take you home. Where do you live?"

I gave him an address and I clung onto him from behind as he quickly brought me home on his bike. He helped me inside, making sure I was fine, but he didn't leave, he only followed me as I went to my office.

"Why are you still here? Don't you have other people to save?" I ask.

"Batman can handle things for a little bit. I'm gonna make sure she doesn't get a hold of you again," he said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Thank you"

I sat at my desk after changing my shirt, going over some work, while he stood by, staring out the window. Marceau stopped by, giving me my bracelet which had been perfected, but for the most part we both remained silent.

"Why do you do this?" We both asked at the same time.

I looked up from my papers and saw him staring at me, an eyebrow raised from behind his mask.

"Why do you help people?" I ask.

"Why do you design?" He asks.

"Because I love doing it"

"That's my answer," he says. He stood up from the ledge, standing beside my desk. "Why did you take on your family's business?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it's a lot to handle. You're young, you shouldn't be worrying about running a business and also designing fashion. Focus on one thing, the thing you love doing"

"I have to do this, you don't know what it's like. My parents expect me to be even better than they were at this, in order to do that I need to work my ass off doing two jobs, even though I don't need the both of them," I say, standing up to look him straight in the face. "Designing was my one choice I made. I don't get to choose anything else in this life. With the type of life I lead, I'm only given one choice, everything else is decided for me"

He was getting on my nerves. For once, I wasn't acting, I was telling the truth. My parents decided everything for me because they knew what was best. That's what they explained to me anyway. I never had the chance to live a life not led by my parents, not until now, not until I became Genocide.