#or backgrounds

Family Friend

Nick hadn't meant to stay out so late. Even in the nocturnal sectors of Gotham, 3am was the witching hour. An unlucky time to be out and about.

but the trains had run late and his car was still in the shop. The night was as smog filled as always and Nick silently prayed that the Bat’s wings might keep the city quiet for a bit longer.

well, relatively quiet. The banshee wail of sirens was Gotham’s sweetest lullaby, right up there with the rattatata percussion of gunshots and the bass-line of the rumbling, creaking streets as old lead and rotten wood gave way within buildings that should have crumbled years ago.

But all of that was streets away, maybe even whole city blocks.

which was why he was caught off guard by the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching.

a body slammed into his and he tensed immediately, the aching exhaustion behind his eyes fleeing as adrenaline rushed his system. But before he could punch his assailant, they scrambled back with a strangled shriek.

“sorry, sorry” they said, wobbling on unsteady feet as they tried to duck around him.

“hey, woah, you good?” Nick asked and the girl, because looking closer, Nick saw that this was a girl, stumbled back.

“fine, fine” she said. But she was shaking, and not at all dressed for such a bitter night, with frost dusting windowsills before dawn broke.

A long shapeless nightgown, a pair of shoes clutched in her hand, her hair long and tangled falling into her ashen face.

She doesnt get around him before he hears another set of footsteps, though, and he moves to tuck her behind him. On what impulse? He cant say. He just did. Maybe it was the way her face went slack and white in terror, visible even under the golden light of the street lamps. Maybe it was her age, reminding him of the last time he saw his own daughter, long grown and now half way across the country, maybe it was merely the sound of the new footsteps. Heavy with bootfalls and stength. no matter what it was, Nick put himself between the girl and the newcomer, with barely a worry towards her knife in his back.

it was a man, broad shouldered and tall, dressed in heavy boots and plain, but pressed clothes. He looked put together in a way very few average gothamites did, and in a way Nick found deeply familiar. There was a glint in the dark on his hand. A knife, or brass knuckles. Nick absent mindedly rubbed his jaw in an unbidden memory.

“evening friend!” Called the newcomer, his face friendly as he took in Nick. Nick said not a word. The newcomer did not react to the lack of response, merely kept smiling. Nick could pick out the exact moment this big man decided scrawny Nick was no threat. Just as obvious as ever.

“i see you’ve found my daughter, you know how kids can be, always runnin’ off from things that are for their own good. Now, you just hand her over and there’ll be no trouble. Yea?” The man smiled again and Nick felt the girl’s face burrow into his mid back. This man was not her father, and if he was? Then that was worse.

Nick cracked a grin. Amiable, and he saw the big man place his weapon back in his pocket. Convinced he’d won.

“i think you’ll find that trouble’s an old friend of mine.” Nick quipped, then he swung. The big man stumbled back, barely shouting out with his shock. Unprepared for both the swing and the power behind such a scrawny arm’s punch.

turning his head over his shoulder, Nick snapped at the girl—-“run”

and she did. Off into the dark.

but in his distraction, brass knuckles met Nick’s jaw.

Damn. why do traffickers always hit him in the same damn place? Breakfast is not gonna be fun in the morning.

Nick didnt go down, but only barely. Managing to stumble to keep his balance, shaking his head to clear it. He dodged the next hit as the man went to chase the girl, Nick managed to catch him by the back of the shirt and trip him. Nearly sending them both into the grit and the cobble.

and then, as Nick stood over the man, spitting and cursing as he went to get back up, shadows cut over both of them. Angular and slashed across both their faces like masks as they froze.

turning his head, a white out gaze of glowing eyes met Nick’s own. The golden light of the lamplight smothered by the shadow wings of the Bat crouched atop the street lamp. The bonfire of Fury’s hellfire red hair shined like a damnation as She studied the two combatants. Her head tilting like a curious beast. Though Nick knew well that She was not.

Nick stepped back from the light with a salute, allowing himself to be tucked into the shadows. The trafficker barely stood before Fury was in him. Nick chuckled, despite himself.

‘ya know, Nicky, we gotta stop meeting like this.’ Drawled a familiar voice, green eyes peering from the alleyway right beside where Nick had ducked. ‘Thought you went legit? Unless you changed your mind?’

“hey Boss. Nah, still clean. They find me. Not the other way around.” Nick argued, even as Red Hood snorted in disbelief.

‘i think he’s useful.’ Hissed Fury, suddenly returning, slipping around the lamplight and into the alley shadows. What happened to the other man, Nick didnt know and knew better than to ask. Besides, he was rather preoccupied with a sudden armful of young girl as she darted out from where she must’ve been tucked into Fury’s wings. The girl hugged him tight and Nick could only feel his heart melt. He hugged her back, placing his hands gently on her shoulderblades.

“thank you” she whispered.

“youre welcome.” He murmered back “thats what im here for.”

a laugh from Red Hood and a chittering from Fury as She tucked the girl back into Her wings. ‘little daughter is heading home, call your little daughter.’ Fury hissed, jabbing a ragged wing edge towards Nick’s chest. Nick chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.

“she doesnt want to hear from me, she’s got a whole life now, who wants their convict father barging in?”

Fury turned her head and a way that Nick knew meant she was rolling her eyes. ‘Bad as Brother’ she muttered to herself, distinctly in english instead of that chirping language the gods usually used, before jabbing her wingtip towards Nick’s chest again, this time with more force. ‘Call her, dont be stupid. You too, nephew, dont be stupid.’

‘yea, yea. See you Auntie.’ And Fury was gone, as though She were never there. Green eyes turned to Nicky. ‘Guess im on trash duty then. Wanna join me?’ “absolutely not, Boss. Im already late getting home, if my parole officer finds out im done for.”

‘c’mon’ Red Hood—-he doesnt whine—- but his voice is distinctively that of a little brother. Despite those two glowing eyes inset into the darkness well above Nick’s own head. ‘For old time’s sake? And stop calling me Boss, you’re practically a family friend with how much we all keep meeting like this.’

there’s a teasing lilt in his voice, like he’s smiling. Its a nice sound. Utterly unlike what he once sounded like. Gruff like he gargled with grave dirt and sharp like he chased it down with steel knives. Nick could only smile.

“whatever you say Boss. Tell the littles ‘hey’ for me, yeah?”

‘will do.’

a chuckle, and then a footstep on grit and glass and stone, and then nothing. And Nick was alone.

tucking his hands in to his pockets and took out his phone. Scrolling through his contacts he hovered over his daughter’s.

before he put his phone back away, cowardly as always, and continued his way back home.