*Not proof read
"Jason's alive?"
Barbara's voice echoed in his ear, but Nightwing didn't really hear it.
Jason was okay, but he blamed him?
"Nightwing?"
Barbara's voice crackled in over the comm. unit, but Nightwing still didn't respond gaze still focused on ground over the side of the building.
He knew how he had disappeared, and he could probably track down the younger boy but his mind was too lost.
"Dick, Dick what's happening?" Barbara demanded, panic taking over when she couldn't hear Nightwing's breathing.
Nightwing slowly, ever so slowly, raised his hand to his ear and pressed his middle and pointer finger against the small device in his ear.
"I'm here." He breathed out, "I'm fine." He promised, but was he? First Barbara now Jason, was he just supposed to take this is stride because he's never been one to just let things go. Too stubborn even to allow himself relief from the stress that plagues him at times.
"Are you sure?" Barbara asked and Nightwing could practically see her thin eyebrows scrunching together with concern.
Nightwing didn't respond for atleast 30 seconds, staring down at the little number of cars that passed by on the streets next to the building he stood on top of.
He snapped from his stupor and once more pressed his two fingers against his comm unit.
"Yeah, Positive. I'm heading down to make sure Deathstroke and his lacky get put in Bludhaven's Prison. Nightwing out." He responded before letting his arm flop to his side. Jason was alive?
The struggle to get a grasp on that small fact was ginormous. His dead, violently beaten, brother, wasn't dead. He was alive and out for blood, his included. Why save him, just to threaten his life?
"-just gone." He caught the end of whatever Barbara had been saying. He raised his hand to his ear once more.
"What?" Nightwing asked, eyebrow raised behind his mask, "I wasn't really listening here Oracle, mind in other places and all that." he continued jumping down into the alley where he had left Deathstroke and... the other one restrained, still not listening as Barbara repeated her previous words.
Only to find Deathstroke gone, a puddle of blood in his wake, and his lacky still tightly bound.
"Oh man, Can't a vigilante get a break around here?" Nightwing asked as he walked over to the man with powerful strides, "So... What's your name again?" he questioned, the criminal's name having slipped his mind with all the more important details filling his thoughts.
The man opened his mouth but Nightwing beat him to it, "Oh wait, I got it! William, Perferably Willy, right?" He asked, leaning down so he was more level with the restrained man.
Willy just glared defiantly at the hero, Nightwing smirked "Come on, We don't want a repeat of our last meet up. Do we?"
The detective saw Willy's defiant mask crack and his smirk widened "That's what I thought." he stated confidently but still kneeled next to the criminal.
Willy pushed himself away from the vigilante, eyes terrified but still defiant. Nightwing knew that the defiance was only because he didn't want to give a hero any information, not for the protection of his boss.
"Oh come on buddy, let's not make this hard." Nightwing spoke smoothly, as he always did, and his smile just seemed to taunt the scum at his mercy.
"I don't know where he went, he just up and left." William responded, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.
"Am I supposed to believe that? The guy had a bullet in his brain, guys with bullets in their brains don't just up and leave buddy.'" Nightwing countered with yet another raised eyebrow.
"Deathstroke does." William protested and them a memory hit Nightwing like a speeding train.
Deathstroke has a metahuman healing factor making him quite difficult to kill, let alone incapacitate.
"You gotta point there," Nightwing murmured before he raised his hand and activated a small feature on the tracker still hanging onto William's coat, sending a signal straight to Bludhaven Police, "Well you know, I should leave before the cops get here. They don't like me much." Nightwing quipped before pulling out his grappling gun and firing it up to the top of the tallest building around.
He gave a small solute as the gun started to retract, soon losing slack and pulling him into the air. William scoffed, the kid's cockiness will get him killed one day, or so the man hoped.
Nightwing wondered across the rooftop, twirling one of his escrima sticks and whistling a soft circus tune, his other hand pressed against his comm.
"Any idea where he could've gone?" He asked before returning back to his soft whistling.
"He couldn't have gone too far, and he couldn't of broken the cuffs." Barbara replied. Nightwing could here frantic typing on the other end and sirens rushing down the streets.
He smiled, the police may not like him, but they trust the work he does. He comm crackled and he quickly gave the small device his attention.
"He has to be somewhere around where you left him, There isn't-" Nightwing gasped, cutting her off. He turned on his heel returning his escrima to his back and bolted over to the alley where he heard the police chattering and saw they blue and red flashing up the walls.
He jumped off the rooftop, landing with a silent tumble and sticking to the shadows he knew the police wouldn't bother to search heading quickly towards the door leading into the building Deathstroke had the Mayor restrained in.
He picked up the pace and raised his hand to his comm seeing as he'd left Barbara hanging "The Mayor," He reported quietly "He still has the Mayor. I'm going in now, Nightwing out."
Nightwing turned the corner, hands pulling both his escrimas from their position on his back and positioning them in a defensive manor. He saw Deathstroke, mask up, with his gun pressed against the now conscious Mayor's foreheard.
Quickly replacing his escrimas with six of his bird like blades he through the weapons with amazing accuracy.
One simply knocked the weapon from Deathstoke's hand, the other five sinking into the mercenary's strong flesh in places where important nerves and pressure points were located.
Slade stumbled slightly before falling to one knee, his head snapped up and his eyes formed an intense glare at the hero before him. He slammed his mask down with his least damaged limb before ripping out the weapons imbedded in his skin and allowing them to heal.
Nightwing, taking the little time he had, grabbed another one of his blades from his utility belt and slashed the Mayor's binds.
"Run." He told the overweight man sternly, and the Mayor did his best to comply. Stumbling out the door Nightwing had ran in, straight towards the police who would keep him safe.
Pain flashed on the back of Nightwing's skull, sending him sprawled across the concrete of the warehouse Deathstroke had set up in.
He flipped to his feet, bending backwards at a strange angle it seems only he could achieve to avoid confrontation with Deathstroke's sword.
"Come on, you aren't even gonna give me time to get up?" Nightwing teased "If we're playing dirty here I'm not sure how well you'll do." He smile brightly at the angered man clad in black and orange.
Deathstroke took another swing with his decorated black blade but Nightwing just preformed a simple back hand spring putting distance between them.
"About the colors," Nightwing grunted out as Deathstroke charged with a cry of anger, blinded by his need for revenge and throwing punches as hard as he could, "Is Halloween your favorite holiday? Because I think basing your entire outfit off of your favorite holiday is a little extreme, don't you?" The black haired vigilante asked, sending a quick punch to Deathstroke's solar plexus. No matter how heavily armored, the older male definitely felt the force behind the attack.
Deathstroke remained silent, catching his breath and cooling the anger that burned in his chest thinking of the best way to throw off and possibly kill the young boy infront of him.
"You can't be done yet? I just foiled your plans on revenge, Surely your more angry than that." Nightwing urged, arms crossed over his chest and a confident smirk on his face.
Deathstroke swore he'd wipe that cockiness off the boy infront of him. He sprung to his feet suddenly and sent a faux punch at Nightwing's side sending the man dodging to the side only to be hit by Deathstroke's other fist.
All air left Nightwing's lungs and as he moved to jump away Deathstroke grabbed him by the throat slamming him against the seat the Mayor had previously been restrained to.
The black and blue hero grunted hand clawing at Deathstroke's hand trying to removed it from his throat.
Slade smiled behind his mask, "No more quips hero?" he asked, smile widening as a strange whine left Nightwing's throat as he tried to get oxygen in and out of his body.
Nightwing lifted both his legs and sent a violent kick to Deathstroke's chest sending the black and orange clad man into the wall behind him.
Nightwing clunched at his throat and took in a large breath ending in a thick cough.
"What is with you and going for the throat?" He asked, flipping off and over the back of the chair as Deathstroke's sword impaled itself through the middle of the piece of furniture.
Nightwing quickly threw another three of his small bird shaped blades over the chair, each hitting there mark disorienting his opponent.
Nightwing slipped into the shadows, knowing from experience it was time to quit while he was ahead. The Mayor was safe and would be put under police protection and he needed to train all that much harder to be able to beat the revenge tainted veteran infront of him.
Deathstroke searched the now seemingly empty room for the vigilante but he couldn't see anything but the concrete of the room and the tech he had brought in himself.
Nightwing smirked and made his way silently out of the building. The police had already left with the Mayor and one Mister Wintergreen and he found it was his turn to leave.
He once more pulled out his grappling gun and fired it off towards the skies, letting the device pull him up onto one of Bludhaven's rooftops.
He looked out over the city so close to Gotham, but it was his to protect. Not Batman's, Bruce couldn't lie to him here. Couldn't sacrafice him or his allies for the sake of his own mission. Here it was all up to him.
It could be stressful, sure, but he'd gladly take that stress. Trusting himself to make the right decisions and learn from whatever mistakes he made.
He may have a lot on his mind, but for now he'd just enjoy the night the moon so gladly brought. He'd enjoy one of his many homes.