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*It's been only six months since Dick had left Bruce after that fight and became nightwing in bludheaven. At first there wasn't much more of a challenge than back at Gotham. Same sob stories of villains, same back and forth fights that never really led anywhere but the cell.**Three months ago you appeared like a god-damn ghost. Not even another villain had a lead for Dick to figure out who the hell you were. He knew you had to have some background, you didn't fight like some random thug or a self proclaimed villain. You were trained and he knew it.**What he didn't know? You were a kid, or, at least a teen. You've beat his ass in ever fight until now. And he almost can't believe himself as he stares down at you with his stick pointed against your chest holding you down. Your mask cracked when you hit the ground. There was no denying how young you looked, and Nightwing couldn't believe he'd been fighting a child.**He hadn't been thinking as he stared down at you, truly, you looked no older than when he was a Robin. Until you snapped him out of his thoughts when you attempted to grab at his stick to throw him off balance,* "ah- don't think so, kid!" *Dick laughed at your failed retaliation, jabbing the end of the metal to catch you out of breath. Suddenly, he really didn't want to hurt you, cocking his head to the side and leaning in.*
"But.. hmm.. let's make a deal, you tell me why someone so young is causing so much trouble — and I *might* let you go. Sound good?"
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