Simple (Nightwing Fanfic)

Chapter Ten

WARNINGS
-language
-violence
-torture?? IDK play safe
-blood
-gun violence
-mention of the Blockbuster/Tarantula situation.. Very subtle and not descriptive of the events

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Jason gripped his phone tightly, "I'm on my way."

Everyone looked concerned as the vigilante typed in a destination, rushing out as the zeta beam recognizing his code.

Recognized Red Hood B13

When the cold wind hit his face, he stole the closest bike, rushing to the scene. As he neared, he saw the smoke fading into the clouds. He muttered under his breath, "You better be alive, replacement."

-Line Break-

A loud knock hit his door, Slade's voice ringing, "Hey goldie, I brought you a present."

Dick rolled his eyes, swinging his legs over from the cot, getting up and exiting his room. The older male gave him a smirk, leading him to the main room. Dick peered over his shoulder, his heart stopping upon seeing his little brother strung up like a doll. As if it was whiplash, his head turned back to the older male.

"I told you to keep them out of this."

"You need a little push.. And he was the one causing the problems, Dickie."

"Don't you fucking dare call me that. This is between us. Not them."

Slade quirked an eyebrow, approaching the unconscious bird. "Now now, Dickie", his voice emphasizing the nickname, "I don't think you are in the position to make demands."

A switchblade appeared in his hand, lightly brushing Tim's jawline, nicking it a bit. Blood dripped down, landing on the floor. "Oh my. Slip of the hand."

Dick's body was entirely tense. He wanted to leap forward and save his brother, but was in no position to do so. The second he would have made a move, Wilson would have killed the male. The third robin stirred, a sense of panic flooding his body as pain warped his mind. Taking in his surroundings, he immediately blocked himself up, eyes narrowing.

"Welcome to the land of the wake, Timmy."

"Don't call me that." he barked back, his eyes meeting the eldest brother, "Wing?"

"I'm right here, Red.. I'll get you out soon, I promise."

Tim wanted to puke as his eyes peered into Dick's. The blue of his eyes clashed against the orange and black.. It just wasn't right. He heard Wilson cackle, "Don't go making promises just yet, Renegade. You'd have to go through me first.. And we both know where that got you the last time." Slade went behind Tim, the blade resting against the younger's neck. "So, let's be a good apprentice.. And behave."

He took his whole being to not kill Slade in this moment. The feeling was overwhelming.. There were a few times he felt this way. When he first encountered Zucco as Robin, Joker after he killed Jason, and other restless times.. His heart pounded in his ears, his hands grew clammy beneath the kevlar gloves, dying to just reach for the gun and shoot. Yet.. the feeling of guilt was just as bad. He hated how his mind grew to be this twisted. It hit him like a punch to the gut. He felt like Slade. What makes him different from the mercenary? He may not have directly killed anyone himself, but he's been close. Slade noticed the difference in his body language, a wicked smile appearing on his face.

"Go ahead. Do it. We both know you have it in you. Reach for the gun and shoot, Dick. You know I've always been right... You're just like me. You've denied it all these years, yet here we are. So, do it. Prove it to me. To yourself. Live up to the potential I know you have."

Tim shot his head up, ignoring the nausea that swarmed his stomach, "Don't do it, Dick. You'd only be playing into his hand. Please."