Do You Trust Me? •~|~•Nightwing Fanfict•~|~• (Read Desc)

21

The 'Family Trip' as it was labeled by Tim didn't go as planned. Gotham was big, meaning traffic was ridiculous. And the rain made it worse. Yet, Dick was keen on making it through to get to the cinema like he planned. But with each minute that ticked by and we were stuck, he got increasingly irritated.

"We can always watch a movie at home," Tim suggested, trying to make the situation better.

"I said we were going to see a movie, so we're going," Dick replied, adamant and stiff.

"Come on, Big bird," Jason huffed, "It's just a movie, we can check it out another time."

"I agree with those two," I spoke up from my spot behind Dick, "It's not the end of the world if we have to go back to the manor."

"You actually speak some sense," Damien noted with a partial hint of impression.

I glared but held my tongue, simply relying on my imagination to give him a piece of my mind. The less problems I caused in this cramped car, the better.

"Lay off, Angry Bird," Jason spat, "we got enough problems without you saying shit."

"How about we all be quiet," Dick interrupted, making us all fall silent with shock, "I need to concentrate."

The silence was thick and it was uncomfortable. I settled for staring out the window, watching the rain slip gracefully down the glass. I let my breath fog up the window and I closed my eyes, finding partial comfort in the moment.

Closing my eyes, images clouded my head. A dirty, dimly lit hospital room faded in and out. A man walked in his face hidden behind a mask, one I knew the Jokerz to wear on occasion.
The occasional beep of a heart monitor seemed too loud and it drowned out the voice of the man. But he didn't seem to be speaking to me. I turned my head, with much difficulty as everything felt really heavy, to the individual he was talking to. My father, grinning wide and eyes full of satisfied expectation was there, listening to the man that walked in. He had a gloved hand in my arm, his grip just a bit too tight and uncomfortable.

"But it was a success?" he spoke up, his words clear and prominent unlike the response from the man on my other side.

"Dad," I murmured, my voice raspy and confused as if I hadn't spoken in ages, "What's going on?"

"Nothing to worry about, dearest," he assured, "everything will be fine. Just a few more days and our experiment will be over."

The Joker's grin seemed to widen which only brought me a feeling of dread. I then felt a pain in my head which made my vision tunnel. My stomach dropped and I heard more voices, friendlier voices.

"Nova," a voice rang, fading in and out of focus as I was pulled from the memory.

My body was shaking, or was that me being shaken? My vision was still blurred and the pounding in my head did nothing to help. My stomach churned but my fight or flight mode kicked in regardless. I brought my legs up and kicked back at whoever was grabbing my shoulders. I was sluggish and the assailant pushed me back.

"It's Jason, Nova. Relax," the voice spoke up, coming in clearer.

"Jay?" I questioned my vision clearing slightly as I trained my eyes on his form.

"That's it. You're okay," he assured, relaxing his grip on my shoulders.

I let out a shaky breath, looking around me at the dazed and confused looks of the bat boys. I then looked beyond them. When did we get back to the mansion? All thoughts were pushed away as I felt the stinging sensation come up my throat. I pushed Jason out of the way and threw myself out of the car, into the grass nearby. Acid left my throat, leaving my coughing and sputtering and hurting.

When I reduced to dry heaving, I sat back, hot tears streaming from my eyes. I wiped them away angrily.

"You good?" I heard Jason pipe up, his hand reaching for my shoulder once more, this time gentler.

"Yeah," I rasped weakly, managing a very weak, very fake chuckle, "Just woozy."

"Alright, everyone that isn't Jason or I go inside," Dick's voice spoke up.

Two sets of feet faded away, likely Tim and Damien. Jason pulled me back against his chest, holding me in what felt like his version of comfort. He stood, pulling me with him and moving away from my pile of sick. I let him, not having the strength nor the stamina to push him off anyway. I could barely get my feet under me.

"What happened?" Dick pressed, his eyes wide and his brows furrowed.

"Dude, give her a minute. She just spilled her guts and you expect her to be able to tell you every damn thing?" Jason argued before taking a breath, "Let's just give her a few minutes."

"Right. You're right," Dick agreed, "I'm sorry. I just have so many questions."

"We both do," Jason breathed before turning his attention to me, "Let's get you sitting, yeah?"

I didn't argue because when I felt my knees touch the rough asphalt I felt a great relief. I felt partial strength return and I sat back, allowing Jason to support my weight against him. I felt tired but I also uncomfortable. Not against Jason but at what my head conjured up. I don't remember that ever happening and every time I tried to recall more than what was fresh, the pounding in my head got more nauseating.

"Better?" Jason wondered, his tone gentle and his gaze just as concerned as Dick's.

"A little," I answered, my voice stronger but only by so much.