SID & NANCY. bruce wayne

Three

"NIGHTWING, YOU GO FOR LEFT,"

says Bruce, as the Bat Family and I stand on a rooftop. "Batgirl, on my right." he instructs Barbie.

He turns to Helena and Jason. "Huntress, Hoodie, sentry. Helena, you see any of Joker's guys, you shoot. No mercy."

"No mercy." Helena repeats.

The only people left without jobs is me, Selina and Tim. "Catwoman, another roof," Bruce points to a nearby rooftop for Selina to keep a lookout from. "Robin, Razer Blade, you're with me."

So my job is basically fighting Joker's guys with Bruce and Tim. Just like how Bruce trained me to do earlier. "So," Tim begins. "How old are you, Nex- I mean, Razer?"

"Why can't you call me by my name?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It's a rule. When we're on a mission, hero names only." Tim replies. I nod, thinking whether I should tell Tim my actual age or stump him and give him a random number.

"24," I say my real age. "You?"

"19. Kinda boring. I can't wait to turn 20," he replies. "Hey, Batsy's 28. You guys could date."

"No." Bruce says immediately in his Batman voice... you know, the one that's super deep and you almost can't hear what he's saying.

"Yeah, no," I answer. "I'm not really into love. It bores me." When I said that, I could swear I saw Bruce turn his head just a little towards me, his eyes dropping. But it could just be my stupid ass reaching so hard for something that clearly will not happen ever.

"I was joking. Calm down, Batsy." Tim lets out a chuckle before Bruce shushes him.

"Y'all see that limo just drive in? Twelve o'clock?" Bruce points slightly towards the front of us. "That's Joker's girl, Harley Quinn. Razer, you gotta put her out while I deal with Joker."

"Right now?" I ask, just about ready to drop from the building and run up to the blonde girl alighting the limo in front of us.

"No, no," Bruce stops me. "Wait 'til they get in the club."

"Can we even get in?" I ask, a little bit worried.

"Huntress back there's got some people." Tim says, pointing backwards at Helena, who was so in position she's barely listening to Jason's crazy stories. I only nod.

"On my word," Bruce speaks again. "Everyone down."

All of us nod as Bruce starts counting down. "Three..."

Helena kept her crossbow and reached for her staff; so does Tim. Jason readies his daggers and his red full-face mask. Dick has his escrima sticks in hand. I ready the razor blades that Bruce had attached to my suit around the forearm and leg regions. "Two..."

Bruce has his Batarangs out. "One." All of us jump down the roof as, I assume, one of Helena's friends Tim mentioned let us all in. Only Bruce and I now are scheming behind the Joker and his girl. Tim ran off with Jason and Dick, kicking ass.

"You go for her." Bruce says, pointing at Blondie who was Joker's arm candy.

I hear Joker say, "Where's Batsy? I kinda miss him" and the bartender reply "Not sure, J. He must be here soon".

"Now." Bruce dismisses as he and I attack Joker and Harley from behind.

The rest of the night was history.

—

"NEXA!"

Bruce yelling my name is now imprinted in my brain after three loud gunshots were being sounded.

It is finally the end of the night.

I come home to the Manor with bullets in my shoulder and both my legs and Bruce carrying me up to his bedroom.

"Bruce," Dick calls out as he sees Bruce walk over to his Tower with my limp body in his arms. "Will Nexa be okay?"

"She will, I promise," Bruce smiles at him, his cowl down. I know because I see it all happen. "Jason, take him back."

Peeking from Bruce's broad shoulder, I see Jason's arm coil around Dick's shoulders. "Dude, she's freakin' Nexa. She'll be okay." I hear Jason encourage my brother and that made me smile.

"My head hurts." I mumble as Bruce walks to his Tower, stepping into the elevator.

"I know," he almost growls. "We'll get you some ibuprofen. Can you walk?"

"I don't know. Let's find out." I say, tapping his shoulder, asking him to let me down. I don't know what I was thinking, I face-planted onto the floor right as my feet touches the floor.

"Arrogance." Bruce tuts, picking me up again, walking to his bedroom.

—

"I gotta get the bullets out, Nexa," Bruce argues. "If not, it'll cause a gnarly infection. You don't want that."

"But it hurts, Bruce." I fight back. Him putting the antiseptic wipe on my leg was almost unbearable; imagine pulling a whole bullet out of my leg.

"I know. You'll feel better if we get them out right now," he argues calmly. I nod almost frantically when he stabilizes his hands on my leg, a ginormous scalpel in one hand and a plastic cylinder container in the other. "Think good thoughts. Happy thoughts, Nex."

"Fuck!" I scream out, feeling the bullet come out of my leg. "Why did it make that squelching sound?!"

"Good thoughts, good thoughts-"

"I got nothing, Bruce!" I can't help but yell. It hurts so fucking bad. It's not my first bullet; that one time, Dick was experimenting with guns to see which weapon he likes the most and he accidentally shot me on the side of my stomach.

"Okay, okay," he stops, dropping the scalpel and container, thinking. "Okay, uh... think of me, shirtless. Keep that thought."

"I have bad imagination, Bruce," I whine. "You have to take your shirt off for me to visualise that!" I'm not even trying to cop a look if that's what you're thinking. My visualising is terrible. Dick hates it.

"Fine," Bruce says, pulling his black tee off. He still has smeared black paint around his eyes and his hair was dripping with sweat. Every now and then, he would bend down slightly and salty sweat droplets would fall into my wounds and sting like hell. "Better?" he questions.

"I mean, sure." I groan. Bruce's physique was something else. I don't know about you, but I think that's the best physique I've ever seen.

His body was all I could think about, and surprisingly, it worked. "One more to go. You're doing good," Bruce grins, walking closer to me to remove the bullet on my shoulder. "This is gonna hurt a little bit more, just warning you."

Bruce's body, Bruce's body. Bruce's body. "And we're done. Great job," He says, passing me a tab of ibuprofen that was lying on his nightstand. "Can you stand stitches?"

"Sure, but I hate needles so I won't look," I warn as he pulls out a needle and black thread and begins on the wound on my left leg. "God, I need to clean my room after this."

"Oh, screw that, Nexa," Bruce says, halfway into stitching my left leg. "I can get the chambermaids to do that in the morning. Sleep here tonight. You can have my bed, I'll sleep on the couch."

"I can't sleep in your room, Bruce. Dick's gonna be really sus. Jason too; after that random comment he made on the roof," I rant. "Dick already probably thinks there's something going on between us. This morning when you were in my room, you insisting on carrying me tonight."

"I can just tell him you can't walk. Because you literally can't, or else these stitches will pop. Joker shot you right at your primary muscle here." I continued arguing with Bruce about how weird it'd be if Dick finds me in his room until he ends it all with a "You cannot walk."

"Fine," I groan as Bruce finishes the stitches on my left and right leg and moving on to my shoulder. "You're so annoying sometimes."

"I annoy the people I love, Nexa."

—