(no subject)
Title: Protect and serve
Summary: Just because he’s not Robin anymore doesn’t mean he left the “be a shoulder for the victims” job behind.
Author’s notes: Um. Chevauchee told me the story of being hugged by the sheriff after her house got robbed. I said Dick would totally do that, drew an OFC’s name out of a hat, and wrote this. Set during Dick’s stint as a Bludhaven cop in early NIGHTWING.
OFC means Original Female Character, by the by.
Gen. PG at most.
It’s a pretty routine call, really. Burglary, and even in Bludhaven there’s the nod to law and order that means the cops go out and at least check for prints.
The vic is a pretty short-haired girl, pale and obviously panicky. Dick smiles at her, the old reassuring Robin smile he remembers using to calm down rape victims or random billionaires after the villain of the week -- usually Ivy, with billionaires -- got busted.
She smiles back shakily and clicks off her cell phone, tucking it absently into her back pocket. Dick puts a hand on her shoulder, remembering how touch always calms *him* down, and smiles again. Goes into the house, stepping carefully -- the living room’s a wreck, Alfred would raise an eyebrow and sniff about the work involved in fixing it. Hopefully the girl’s got decent home insurance.
He goes through the kitchen first, and then he makes her a cup of chamomile tea and makes her sit at the kitchen table. She still hasn’t said a word to him, and he hasn’t said anything to her, but she’s stressed right now.
There’s no way she’ll be able to lock the door, he knows. Whoever broke in destroyed the doorjamb, she’ll be lucky if she can shut it.
Moves to the living room, working through it silently. Old, familiar routine, and since he’s not with Amy or anyone on this he doesn’t need to pretend not to know what he’s doing. Burglars were a couple of amateurs, probably no prints on file and Bludhaven’s finest have better things to do with their time than go after petty thieves, even though the lack of justice there burns hot and angry in Dick’s chest. Maybe Nightwing will get to take these guys down.
Dick goes back to the kitchen and sees her shaking, slim hands buried in the red-blond fuzz on her head. He’s got her standing and in a hug before he thinks, consequences and repercussions and lawsuits, but she’s shaking dry-eyed and mumbling against his badge about having to stay here in a city of rapists and murderers when the door won’t lock and what’s he supposed to do but hold her tighter?
Rubs her back soothingly, saying stupid things about having police in the area and calling 911 if she hears anything and he’ll stay if she wants him to, it’ll be okay, shh, it’s all right, it’ll be fine.
She hugs him back for a minute before letting go. He lets go, too, and smiles again. Her answering smile is a little calmer, and she tells him she’ll be fine.
Her building grows a Nightwing-shaped gargoyle for the rest of the night; he stops three people from trying to get in.
He doesn’t want to think about how many rapes and murders and thefts went unstopped tonight because Nightwing wasn’t doing a citywide patrol. He knows he stopped three potential crimes, and it’s not good enough. What is -- almost -- good enough is that Ren Beati only has one burglary to deal with this week.
-- Finis
Summary: Just because he’s not Robin anymore doesn’t mean he left the “be a shoulder for the victims” job behind.
Author’s notes: Um. Chevauchee told me the story of being hugged by the sheriff after her house got robbed. I said Dick would totally do that, drew an OFC’s name out of a hat, and wrote this. Set during Dick’s stint as a Bludhaven cop in early NIGHTWING.
OFC means Original Female Character, by the by.
Gen. PG at most.
It’s a pretty routine call, really. Burglary, and even in Bludhaven there’s the nod to law and order that means the cops go out and at least check for prints.
The vic is a pretty short-haired girl, pale and obviously panicky. Dick smiles at her, the old reassuring Robin smile he remembers using to calm down rape victims or random billionaires after the villain of the week -- usually Ivy, with billionaires -- got busted.
She smiles back shakily and clicks off her cell phone, tucking it absently into her back pocket. Dick puts a hand on her shoulder, remembering how touch always calms *him* down, and smiles again. Goes into the house, stepping carefully -- the living room’s a wreck, Alfred would raise an eyebrow and sniff about the work involved in fixing it. Hopefully the girl’s got decent home insurance.
He goes through the kitchen first, and then he makes her a cup of chamomile tea and makes her sit at the kitchen table. She still hasn’t said a word to him, and he hasn’t said anything to her, but she’s stressed right now.
There’s no way she’ll be able to lock the door, he knows. Whoever broke in destroyed the doorjamb, she’ll be lucky if she can shut it.
Moves to the living room, working through it silently. Old, familiar routine, and since he’s not with Amy or anyone on this he doesn’t need to pretend not to know what he’s doing. Burglars were a couple of amateurs, probably no prints on file and Bludhaven’s finest have better things to do with their time than go after petty thieves, even though the lack of justice there burns hot and angry in Dick’s chest. Maybe Nightwing will get to take these guys down.
Dick goes back to the kitchen and sees her shaking, slim hands buried in the red-blond fuzz on her head. He’s got her standing and in a hug before he thinks, consequences and repercussions and lawsuits, but she’s shaking dry-eyed and mumbling against his badge about having to stay here in a city of rapists and murderers when the door won’t lock and what’s he supposed to do but hold her tighter?
Rubs her back soothingly, saying stupid things about having police in the area and calling 911 if she hears anything and he’ll stay if she wants him to, it’ll be okay, shh, it’s all right, it’ll be fine.
She hugs him back for a minute before letting go. He lets go, too, and smiles again. Her answering smile is a little calmer, and she tells him she’ll be fine.
Her building grows a Nightwing-shaped gargoyle for the rest of the night; he stops three people from trying to get in.
He doesn’t want to think about how many rapes and murders and thefts went unstopped tonight because Nightwing wasn’t doing a citywide patrol. He knows he stopped three potential crimes, and it’s not good enough. What is -- almost -- good enough is that Ren Beati only has one burglary to deal with this week.
-- Finis