A/n: another late update and I know I should be working on other stories, or at least give you all a GOOD one shot, but no. You just get this piece of rubbish.

It was a relatively simple plan. I had been observing the hero community for years. It was something of a family hobby; me, my mother, my father, and my sister. We waited and planned. We knew we could not match the heroes in manpower, so we had to be clever if we wanted to take them down. When the time was right, we initiated our plan.

The first step was as hard as expected, and a few things still went wrong. A few carefully laid traps brought a Martian, a Kryptonian, a speedster, an Atlantian, and two of the Bat kids into our possessions.

We had Miss Martian, Superboy, Aqualad, Impulse, Robin, and Batgirl; but they were not who we needed. I had seen him. We had been so close! But he had abandoned the fight like a coward.

We needed Nightwing- the linchpin of the super community- and he was nowhere to be found. So we sent him a message of sorts. Technically, we sent a video of his teammates being tortured to every major news station in the world… semantics.

We told him to give himself up and we would release his friends. Seven lives for one. (we, of course, had no intention of holding up out end of the deal) He was to come to the rendezvous point where we would then take him to our compound to video his torture and execution. We even had set it up to frame a Gotham mobster; Batman would kill whoever murdered his eldest son. The JLA would force their leader to stop. It was all too easy from there.

Nightwing showed up. Just like I knew he would. We scanned him for tracers and weapons. Upon finding none, Father and I escorted him to our base. We took him to the observance room to make him watch his friends suffer. He leaned nonchalantly against a computer, smirking; seemingly oblivious to his friends screams. And then he spoke.

"You'd think people would learn." He stated in a conversational tone.

"Learn what?" Sister asked innocently.

"You should never give me an opportunity to push buttons." He pulled his uncuffed hands from behind his back as a klaxon sounded. Father shot at him, only for the bullet to hit the central control matrix as he stepped out of the way. The gun was out of Fathers hands before anyone quite knew what happened.

"Now," Nightwing pointed the gun at me, "Take me to my friends."

"You don't use guns." Father pointed out triumphantly.

Nightwing swung the gun around without looking and fired. The shot grazed Father's arm.

"Doesn't mean I don't know how to. Take me." His voice was cold, gaze: dispassionate.

Father nodded. None of us had ever seen Nightwing like this. He was unpredictable.

Our plan was falling apart.

We had no choice but to lead him down to the holding cells. He set his teammates free, and called in backup before clearing us all of weapons. Nightwing left with us before the League could get here.

And then we discovered why.

Why this hero who had fought wizards and demons had ran off and hidden.

He was being kind.

Father was put in Arkham. With his gentle nature he didn't last a week. Mother was confined in solitude in a covert prison in Atlantis. Sister was spelled into a mirror. Every mirror. When you look in and see something move behind you…that's her. That's always her. I was turned into a statue. I'm still standing in a courtyard in Slovakia.

No one knows what happened to us. No one knew Nightwing had the connections to make us all disappear, but that's what he did.

He told the others we had gotten away.

Perhaps the scariest part is that everyone believed him.