Nightwing: Heartless

Part 52: Captive II

At least she got food and water regularly. It was a small light in the darkness of her predicament, but Willa was grateful. It wasn't enough food to feel strong, but she didn't feel like her body was shutting down anymore. A piece of bread with peanut butter three times a day and a bottle of water. It was the highlight of everyday.

Every time the door made a sound she flinched away, relieved when it was just the bread being dropped in. The worst was when the door opened. Deathstroke was his name. Willa turned the name over in her head, remembering the conversation with Dick when he told her about the scar on his back, and the hate Deathstroke had for him. It had to be why she was here, but how did he know? She buried her face in her hands, this was exactly what Dick was worried about. Did he know she was missing? Did anyone? The thought filled her with hopelessness. Her parents had just lost a son. And Dick... she heard his voice in her head "it would break me if anything happened to you".

The door swung open and Willa scrambled to her feet. She pressed herself against the wall, trying to hide the shaking in her hands. Deathstroke stared with his usual amusement. He stalked closer and Willa tensed. The door was still open behind him. When he was close enough, but still not able to reach out and touch her, she lunged. Around him and out the door, blinking rapidly against the blindness. She just needed to see enough to make out the general shapes of things. A door. A window. A car. She prayed she was running the right way.

She yelped as hands wrapped around her arms and slammed her into the wall. She squirmed but it was no use, whoever held her was pushing her into the wall so hard she couldn't move. She let out a cry of frustration as she saw more bodies circling her, all dressed in black with faces hidden. Some had swords out, most just watched her.

"Help me!" She pleaded. But none did. She heard familiar footsteps behind her and started squirming again.

"That was incredibly stupid," he growled.

The pressure disappeared from her arms and Willa almost dropped to her knees in surprise. She turned around instead, and swallowed at how angry Deathstroke was. Her whole body shook with fear as he stalked towards her. Pain exploded across her face as he backhanded her.

She flinched when he touched her face, but it was gentle. He waited until she opened her eyes to speak. "It seems I can't be gentle with you after all. Did your boyfriend teach you to fight?" She closed her eyes again to keep from revealing anything. He sighed, "at least this gets a little fun for me now." Then he grabbed her hair and wrenched her to her feet. She stumbled from the pain in her face but caught herself. He would have no problem ripping the hair from her head.

He threw her to the ground of her cell then shut the door. A moment later he opened it again and dragged her to the wall, clicking something to the small hook on the floor. She saw the metal and started crawling away but Deathstroke dragged her back and attached the manacles to her wrists.

"I'll collar you like a bitch the next time you try to run." Then he threw her down and closed the door as he left.

**

Her days blurred together. Not that she could tell day from night. The shackles dug into her skin whenever she tried to wiggle free and she knew beneath the metal were bruises and raw skin. They gave her enough leash to almost reach the door, but now when food and water were dropped in, she couldn't reach them. So every day, Deathstroke would visit her and kick them closer so she could reach. It was torture, the relief and panic she got whenever he came. Every visit brought pain when she played dumb. He got angrier everyday, more violent.

One day, when she lay on the ground, crying, blood streaming from her nose, he stroked her hair, almost lovingly. "I wish you could know how beautiful you are when you bleed," he said. He was her tormentor, but he was also the one who allowed her to eat and drink.

Sometimes she lay alone in her cell, her body hurting, and wondered if she should give up the ruse. Stop playing dumb, give in, stop the pain, she wasn't a hero. No, she thought, Dick's words replaying in her head: "it would break me...", how fragile he really was. If they wanted to hurt Dick, Deathstroke must have a bigger reason than revenge. She wasn't a hero, but she could protect the heroes. What was her life in comparison to those who saved the world? She would protect him; she had to. She let herself cry, because it meant she would die. She would die so the real heroes could protect the rest of the world.

**

Willa blinked her eyes open to see Deathstroke's familiar boots walking toward her, but this time the sound of paper hitting the floor in front of her made her flinch. She pushed herself to sit up, trying not to groan. She spotted the pieces of bread, brushed away by the door. He hadn't come yesterday. She knew better than to look him in the eye so she reached for the papers. She gritted her teeth with the effort of moving her wrists. But they weren't papers, they were photos. She knew he was watching her, so she tried to keep her face neutral, tried to hide the fear.

The first photo was the night before she was taken, of Dick- Nightwing, at her window. The second was at the concert so long ago, when he caught her. The third was her falling out of LexCorp, and the bioship materializing. She turned away, unwilling to look at any more. She felt sick.

"I just need two things from you," Deathstroke started, his voice annoyingly gentle. He was always a tightrope, bound to snap. "I need his name. And then I need you to call him." The second part surprised her. She snapped her head up before she could help it, immediately flinching away when she made eye contact. She felt him pat the top of her head instead of hitting her.

"W-why?" She kept her eyes downcast.

"He'll come alone, because it's you-"

"But I don't-"

"He'll come alone, because it's you. And he'll know betrayal right before he dies. It'll be the last thing he sees." Deathstroke tilted her chin up, "and then I'll let you go."

She closed her eyes at the thought. How much she wanted to go home. But the price was too high. Deathstroke was right. Dick would come alone, right into an ambush. Not to mention what he would do with Dick's name. If he knew Nightwing he could get Batman and Robin, and if he had leverage over Batman... She couldn't. She wouldn't. "I don't know who you think I am, but-"

Deathstroke let out a frustrated yell and brought the hilt of his knife down on the side of her head.