thinking about cop! dick grayson who truly believes that the system is fighting for justice, who meets reader who has been burned and ignored by the system like many for their whole lives, who slowly starts to tear apart the establishment and realize the corruption present in his own office, who swears he’ll never pick up the badge until they truly protect the people and fight for justice
cop dick grayson feels like propaganda, and he might be hot but i would still call him a pig. anyways acab
a/n: a much overdue chapter for you.. i'm sorry!! classes got very busy </3 anyways, enjoy :3
how do we feel about the rebrand :p
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Stella had tossed and turned all night, much to her dismay, as she was very much still injured.
The visit from Nightwing had left her with so many questions, and so many stupid ideas that would surely result in getting herself killed by the many nefarious villains of Gotham. Or, it could mean another chance to see Nightwing and get some answers from him about that night?
Had he been tracking the Penguin? What deal was he making, drugs, money, illegal firearms? How long had the operation been running, and how long had they been waiting to swoop in and capture them? Were they going to do anything at all? What could he tell her about the Penguin and his personal experiences with the man?
Even though she had been given the weekend off, she couldn't shake the excitement that she might've gotten herself involved in one of the biggest stories since she'd moved here.
Lazy sunlight filtered in through her curtains, drawn tight as she tried to clench her eyes shut and will sleep upon herself. Lois and Clark would surely be over in the morning before they decided to head back to Metropolis for the weekend, without picking out a bridesmaid dress for Stella, and she did not want to be running on over-the-counter painkillers that left a dull ache behind her eyes and less than four hours of sleep in her old mattress.
Alas, her wishes to the universe from her fallen eyelashes she had found after vigorously rubbing her eyes from the sleep that would not come, but continued to weigh heavily upon her lids.
The knock came at nine on the dot— and she assumed Lois had been in quite the rush to get Clark to her apartment on time, since he was the least punctual of the two.
Her body ached as the sheets dragged against her skin, the warmth of her blankets quickly dissipating into the air as her feet touched the cold wood floor, painfully reminding her that it wasn't just her muscles that ached, but her still unbroken bones.
When she finally made it out of bed, hobbling in her old pajamas the whole way across the apartment, she opened the door to find Lois and Clark, both smiling carefully.
"Hey honey, brought ya' some breakfast, you eat yet?"
Lois stepped right inside, Clark following closely behind her as Stella flashed them the kindest smile she could muster. It must've looked more like she was just baring her teeth, even the muscles in her face were tense. She knew she fell from the sky and hit a rooftop like a fallen meteor, but how bad did it really have to be for her face to hurt?
By the time she had shut the door and turned back to face Lois and Clark who had made themselves comfortable upon her couch, Clark had all but become a dog with his ears perked straight up, eyes narrowed and alert.
Lois looked tense beside him, trying to avoid looking at him, eyes dancing over the old rug underneath her coffee table and taking the food out of the plastic takeout bag much too slowly.
"Uh, did I miss something?"
As if Clark was doused with freezing cold water, his eyes snapped open wide, blinking rapidly and bringing a tight smile to his face. Despite his new demeanor, a quite unsettling one at that, his entire body was still tense, shoulders nearly up to his ears, the air almost vibrating around him.
"No, no. I was just.. admiring your decorative choices."
Right..
Deciding to move past his strange behavior, which he was strange quite often if Stella was being honest, she just tended to brush it off since her closest friend seemed to be so dearly in love with him, she slowly made her way over to the couch and squeezed on the opposite side of Lois to leave room for Clark if he decided he was going to sit instead of stand around.
The smell of cheap syrup and strawberry jelly filled the room while they ate the thankfully not-yet-soggy pancakes and waffles Lois had been kind enough to bring. It was silent aside from the sound of chewing, which was beginning to really drive Stella crazy.
As if prompted by her own thoughts, Clark cleared his throat and raised his brows in the typical awkward midwestern country boy way he always did.
"So, did anything happen after we left last night?"
Stella paused, mid-chew, brows furrowing. The look Lois gave him could've killed him on the spot, like a mini-nuclear missile that would destroy just him in that moment and leave the rest of the world at peace.
What would Clark know about last night?
The thought briefly crossed her mind, fleeting and truly impossible. Clark Kent could never be Nightwing. She knew his voice as well as she knew her own, and she knew there was no way he was coming all the way to Gotham night and day while also being a reporter. Clark Kent was as see-through as they came.
Before she could un-disturb herself from Clark's quite intrusive inquiry, a knock resounded through the room from the front door.
Of course, the world would never give her a break.
Clark was at the door in seconds, before Stella could even set her plate down on the coffee table and stand, ready to hobble her way over to the door and see who it was despite the pain. After all, Lois and Clark were her guests. She hadn't been expecting more company any way, had she?
Thought the door was wide open, the view of whoever was on the other side was obscured by Clark's frame, and each time she thought she had moved over enough to catch a glimpse, Clark would suddenly adjust his posture and she would be in the dark once again. When she finally made it to the door, almost shoving her way in front of Clark, she hurried to speak.
"Sorry about him, he doesn't even live here. What can I help you-?"
She finally caught sight of him, breath catching in her throat, words disappearing from her lips.
Pearly white teeth, arranged in a charming grin, paired with glowing tan skin and perfectly styled dark raven hair. Piercing blue eyes rimmed with delicate lashes, a small mole on an expertly sculpted chin. A loose blue sweatshirt adorned with some brand logo, biceps flexing as he adjusted the cardboard box in his arms, black marker with capital letter writing on the top.
"Hiya, I'm Richard. I'm moving in across the hall, but I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of trouble.."
It was hard to focus on what he was saying when his perfect lips kept moving, the sound of his voice a melody unlike any Stella had ever heard before. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he was some kind of siren, luring her to her ultimate demise with a pretty face and strong arms, a fate she was happy to let befall her if it meant his face would be the last thing she saw.
"Oh, how unfortunate. As you can see, my friend here is injured. My fiancée and I are here taking care of her, good luck to you though!"
Stella finally snapped back into reality at the sound of Clark's unusually snippy reply, grabbing the edge of the door and glaring at him as he attempted to pull her back into the apartment.
What had gotten into him this morning? First he's making weird comments about her apartment, damn near accusing her of whatever he had running through his mind, and now he was being so rude to her new neighbor? He had all but sweat sunshine and cried happiness, so what was his issue now?
"I'm sorry Richard, he's right. I'm not in the best shape right now, but I'm sure Clark would be more than willing to help you out."
She ignored the furious whispering in her ear from Clark, a wide grin on her face as she met Richard's eyes. If Clark was going to play whatever stupid game he wanted, she was going to decide whatever stupid punishment she saw fit, whatever his true intentions were.
"Stella, this is not a good-"
"Clark, surely you don't mind helping out someone in need? What happened to the Clark who helps old ladies cross the rode and rescues kittens from trees? Don't be rude," she remarked, the grin never leaving her face as she stepped aside, holding her hand out to gesture his departure.
With a resigned sigh, Clark stepped into the hallway and all but snatched the box from Richard's hands, muttering under his breath as they ventured into the other room.
Lois finally made an appearance, brows raised in surprise as she watched the two men disappear into the previously vacant apartment.
"Well, I've never seen you so interested in a neighbor Stella. I know we have a few years between us, maybe this is some sort of sudden change of yours with your brain finally developing."
Stella scoffed, reaching beside the door to grab her purse, pulling Lois into the hallway by her arm. She hurried the lock the door behind them, lukewarm pancakes and sticky syrup long forgotten as they began down the hall towards the elevator.
"Please, don't act like a ten year age gap between the two of us has anything to do with how yummy that man was. I mean, did you see him?"
Lois barked out a laugh as they stepped into the elevator, the sound echoing through the hallway as the doors shut behind them.
The elevator lurched as it began to descend, surely a sign that something needed to be replaced or fixed, but Stella knew the landlord was too cheap to do anything about it unless it plummeted to the bottom of the well and killed whoever was inside, to afford a future lawsuit if for any reason.
"Why did you drag us out anyways? What about Clark?"
A small smirk rose to Stella's face, glancing at Lois as the elevator came to a slow stop.
"I need coffee, and I'm sure Clark can handle himself like a grown man. Maybe the barista makes an extra drink and gives it to us on accident, surely it would only be right to offer it to my new neighbor to show my kindness," she said slyly, keys jingling in her hands as she pulled them out of her bag.
Her friend hummed in understanding, stepping out of the elevator and following her through the lobby to the dingy parking lot where her old car resided.
"So you want to win him over with an overpriced latte? What if he doesn't even drink coffee?"
Stella narrowed her eyes at Lois, as if she had said something so deeply preposterous it would never happen in any universe. She chose not to respond to the comment, unlocking her car doors with the much too worn rubber button on her key fob.
"Just get in."
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"So, wha'dya think of my place? Nice, right?"
"Dick, what are you doing?"
Clark wasted no minute in dropping the cardboard box onto the floor of Richard Grayson's new apartment, paying no mind to the clatter of the object inside as Dick frowned at him.
"Clark, you don't need to be suspicious of everyone. I just needed to find a new place, and I found one!" Dick said, a wide smile on his face as he began unpacking a few books out of a small box.
Sighing through his nose, Clark closed his eyes and tried to rationalize with himself.
Of course he had learned what happened through no one other than Bruce Wayne, who was aware of his affiliation with Stella Doyle. He had to physically stop Lois from running out the door when he got the call, trying to calm her down with the knowledge that she was being treated in Wayne Manor. She'd be back in her apartment before she even knew it.
This meant that he knew all too well that Dick had moved into this specific apartment, right across the hall from his and his fiancee's dear friend, with purposeful intentions. Intentions he wasn't aware of, which made them suspicious.
He knew rationally that Dick wasn't going to do anything to hurt Stella, unless she had done something to endanger him or the other various Wayne family members or suddenly turned into a big-name criminal. It did not give him any comfort to know that someone as skilled and dangerous as Dick was right across the hall from his dear friend, whether it was to protect her, spy on her, use her for information, none or all of the above.
Dick watched Clark for a moment, his internal dialogue almost audible as he continued to brood in the middle of the apartment. He sighed, setting down the book in his hand and walking over to Clark, setting a hand atop his shoulder.
"Clark, the only reason I'm here is to make sure she doesn't get into any more trouble. Me and Bruce know how much she means to you and Lois, it's only right that we watch over her until she falls off the criminal interest radar."
Words as reassuring as his with a voice as honest as his weren't easy to come by, and Clark knew he was being too worried. Stella was an adult, and Dick was a reliable person. After all, he had been the one to save her life when she tried to get away from him in the first place.
He resigned with a tired smile, putting his hands on his hips and looking around the already messy apartment, boxes and random items strewn across the floor.
"Well, let's get to work then."
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By the time Stella and Lois were knocking on Richard's apartment door, four coffees in total, two in each of their hands, they were readily greeted by Clark. Stella was perturbed by his suddenly much more positive mood, and only gave him a wary look as she stepped into the apartment.
Her head turned, eyes searching for Richard, but instead found an apartment now completely furnished, knick-knacks neatly arranged atop shelves, a small rug under the wooden coffee table, curtains pulled to the side to let the little light that came through the typical dreary clouds that covered Gotham City.
"Wow.. you guys did that fast."
Lois stepped up to Clark and handed him his coffee, continuing to look around the room. Stella, still in her surprise, didn't even notice that Dick had approached her.
"Wha'dya think neighbor?"
In a mere moment, a freak display of animalistic instinct, the perfect synchronization of atoms vibrating in place, one of the coffee cups in her hands was slipping from her fingertips. It might as well have been covered in grease with how loose her grip was, and she mentally prepared herself for the clatter of the cup to the floor, the inevitable spill of the contents and the possible reimbursement she'd have to pay her new neighbor due to her lack of attention.
Eyes clenched shut, cringing so hard she thought her face might never un-wrinkle, she waited for the moment to pass.
Instead, she heard a quiet exclamation from the man beside her, one of his warm hands coming to rest upon her shoulder. The crash never came, and his hand didn't leave her until she opened her eyes once more.
The first thing she saw was those deep blue eyes and shining teeth, entranced once more by the stranger who had somehow bent just slightly at the knees to catch the coffee cup perfectly in his hands, without a spill even around the rim of the mouth piece.
"Woah, that was close." A grin accompanied his words, teasing and zany.
Something in the air shifted, the world stilling, noise quieting. As if she was underwater, Stella felt her body move in slow motion, still breathing, still blinking, aware though nearly frozen. Fingers tingling, she was uniquely aware of every sensation her body was feeling; a light draft from the air conditioning that swept across the apartment, the soft cotton of her shirt against her skin, the flutter of her eyelashes against her cheeks.
Just as suddenly as the world paused, it resumed once more, noise no longer diluted and her body moving just as it normally would.
What had just happened?
Surely this wasn't that stupid cheesy moment in rom-coms where the woman based on some cliche falls for a guy the complete opposite of her? When she's supposed to fall in love at first sight and spend the rest of the next three months chasing after him, just to give up when he finally realizes he needs her?
No, it couldn't be.
Did those moments always leave them so dizzy?
For a few moments, Stella said nothing in response, eyes glazed and brows furrowed as if she was in deep concentration.
Lois, noticing the lack of her friend's predictable and witty reply, handed her cup to Clark, stepping over and placing a hand on Stella's other shoulder. She looked over her face, concern washing over her face as she realized she had stopped responding entirely.
"Stella? Are you okay?"
The swaying of her brain did not ease when Lois' voice came through, distorted and disordered, foreign and unfamiliar. Twisting and tightening in her abdomen did not cease when felt the normally comforting touch of her hand, instead, violently lurching in response.
Something was wrong, but once again in a matter of mere moments, the sensations were gone entirely. Her head cleared, stomach pain residing, focus returning.
Her eyes met Richard's first, the smile gone from his face, lips pressed together and eyes focused intensely on her face. When she met his gaze, eyes clear of whatever previously plagued her, he seemed to relax, even if just a little. A small smile came to his face, tight and ingenuine.
"Where'd you go for a minute? You didn't even notice my amazing reflexes," his tone was light, as chipper and playful as it had been before.
Stella tried to shake off the unease that had settled in place of what had left her, forcing a grin to her own face as she straightened her back. The last thing she wanted was for her hot new neighbor to see her lose her mind, or explode, or whatever was going to happen.
"Oh I saw, I was gonna make you regret wasting the precious coffee I bought just for you."
The banter began once again, the smiles a little more real and the air a little less tense, though it did not stop the look Clark shared with Dick, or the look Lois shared with Clark.
Stella might not have understood what was going on, but they were going to find out.
a/n: guys i have a question and that is how do you feel about the transparent divider instead of the white background? i think it'll work better for both light and dark mode, but on the computer dark mode still has white boxes. anyways, hope you guys enjoy this one is a little longer than my usuals :p
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"Oh my god, what the fuck do I do?"
Stella's voice came out in barely a whisper, her hands trembling violently, her legs weak like they were made of jello when she tried to stand. Though the seconds were ticking by, she felt like she was moving in slow motion, stuck in some kind of quicksand.
Her lungs were still burning, but she was breathing, much too quickly in fact. Her head was still pounding, but her vision was clearer.
Nightwing's suit was torn in various places, blood soaking the frayed edges and smearing along his skin. Ragged breaths were coming out in uneven bursts, his chest rising and falling with miniscule sporadic twitching of his fingers and wrists. Was he still conscious? What if he had hit his head and he couldn't get up? What if he had some sort of internal injury and he was bleeding out inside himself?
Various scenarios ran through her mind, keeping her frozen in place like an ancient being stuck in a slab of ice.
It's not like she could call the police, they would try to unmask him, right? To be honest, many officers in Gotham City were as scummy as the criminals they slammed into the concrete and cursed at on the daily. They would not be a reliable help to her.
Why couldn't Batman plaster his number somewhere, or sell mini bat-signals for people who needed him?
After a moment of thought, she paused. Wasn't Nightwing a part of the bat-family, or crew or whatever they called themselves? Surely, he had something that would be of use, someone who would answer some sort of distress signal?
Adrenaline was quickly leaving her body, the aches and pains growing with each passing moment. Her eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier as the exhaustion began to settle in. She had to act fast before she ended up passing out on the cement roof, or both of them would be in trouble.
Trying to stand proved to be futile, her muscles screaming in pain as she tried to push herself up to stand. Biting her lip as she squeezed her eyes shut, she tried to push through the mental block that would allow her to ignore the sensation, managing to just stand on her knees. If it meant crawling on her hands and knees to make sure the both of them survived, she would take that chance.
Tough Portland cement scraped against her knees, the stinging insignificant in comparison to the rest of the pain her body was in. She would have to tell Lois and Clark she couldn't make it this weekend after all.
After a few excruciating moments, she reached where her savior's body laid unmoving. Maybe she should try and see if he was awake first? Or she should try to lay him out flat, that's what you're supposed to do right? What if she gave him CPR? Her father was an EMT, but everything he taught when she was young left her memory like a fleeting dove.
"Okay, I can do this, just find a phone or something.."
Her shaking hands neared his body, eyes frantically searching for any sort of equipment that might have been of help in this current moment. All she could find was some sort of heavy gloves with tiny buttons that she couldn't be sure wouldn't kill her if she tried to use them.
What were her other options if not the gloves? He didn't wear a belt like Batman, and wasn't carrying any weapons, how had he even saved her in the first place? Surely he couldn't actually fly?
Suddenly her eyes trained on a small blinking blue dot. Relief filled her body like juice filled a cup, like creamer filled a bitter coffee. A small black earpiece was nestled into his ear canal, and seemed to still be receiving a signal. She could only hope that it was connected to someone, somewhere.
Dizziness swarmed her, shaking her to her core as her eyes nearly rolled back. A wave of nausea overcame her, and she just barely managed to refrain from spilling even more bodily fluids onto her rescuer.
To steady herself, she placed her hand atop his chest, completely unintentional, but an overall poor decision all the same. Immediately he stirred, weakly thrashing as he gasped for air.
"No, wait, stay still-"
As she once again reached her hands out, meeting his chest, she tried to push him back down against the rooftop. Sweat was building on the skin she could see was visible, he teeth bared as he clenched his jaw, straining to try and push himself back up. His hands circled her wrists, shaking but still firm.
"Calm down! We have to get help," Stella pleaded.
Fighting against an infamous vigilante was proving to be both easier and harder than she thought it would be. She blamed it on their respective injuries, but he was still managing to overpower her even if just slightly.
When he finally managed to get his back off the rooftop, pushing Stella back just slightly against the roof, he let out a prolonged sound of pain, his hand coming to grip his side.
Stella knew she had to do something, but she wasn't sure what now. He wasn't going to let her touch any of his equipment, and there was no way he was coherent enough to understand if she were to try and convince her to use his earpiece.
"Your earpiece, tell them where we are. You have to tell them to come get you."
Nightwing wasn't listening, his head carefully rolling back and forth as he continued to grip his side, gasping for air and he kept trying to get on his feet. At this rate, he was going to get himself killed by falling over the edge, or getting caught by one of the many people who likely had vendettas against him for his sense of justice.
She was barely pushing through the pain at this point, her eyes stinging hollowly with tears that could not build as her body tried desperately to repair herself.
Her vision began to blur, and she tried frantically to try and get something out, anything that would persuade Nightwing to call from help in his own haze of pain. As she collapsed over onto her side, darkness swarming her vision, she finally heard him speak, rough and low.
"Batman, I need-"
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Something was vibrating next to her, insistent. It stirred her from her dreams and made irritation rise in her chest. Her brows furrowed while her eyes remained shut, trying to find the strength to drag her arm over to turn off whatever it was that was disturbing her slumber.
Consciousness hit her like a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head when she finally managed to move her arm across her body, pain striking her all over again. She cried out, eyes opening wide as her whole body tensed. Confusion clouded her mind, the dim morning light shining through her dark curtains.
How had she gotten home?
Her small apartment was dark aside from the sunlight, dawn just peeking over the various high rise buildings that made up Gotham City. Clothes remained tossed atop her dresser, some falling off the hangers in her closet, every bit of chaos that she had left her apartment in the last time was exactly the same.
Had Nightwing brought her back? Surely not, he could barely move himself.
Gritting her teeth, she finally grabbed her phone, wincing as the screen light hit her sore vision. Someone was calling. She answered without reading the caller ID.
"Stella, where are you? You said you would come in last night, me and Clark have been worried sick," Lois's voice came through the speaker, worried and angry all at the same time. She worried about Stella more than anyone else.
"Lois, I got attacked last night," her voice was gravelling, dry and scratchy from her long night of sleep.
She could hear Lois began to freak out, and she couldn't help but tear the phone from her ear as she clenched her eyes shut, trying desperately to swallow the pain in her throat. At least now her body felt like it had been hit by a normal sized car instead of a city bus.
"We were already on our way there, we will be there soon and you're gonna explain yourself!"
Just minutes later there was frantic knocking at the door, Lois's voice sounding throughout the apartment all the way into her bedroom. When she heard the lock began to turn, she was much more relieved that Lois had kept the spare key she had all but forced out of her hands before she moved. "In case of a emergency" she'd said, and an emergency it proved to be.
"Stella?"
Her heels were rushing into the apartment, pausing for a moment to look around the living room until she came rushing into the bedroom. There was the sound of the front door locking, as well as the sound of a bag hitting the floor as quieter footsteps followed.
Looking out of breath, and as if she had just been hit by wind from a leaf blower by the look of her hair, Lois entered the bedroom and rushed over to Stella's side.
"Oh god, what happened? Are you okay?"
The bed bent slightly as she sat at Stella's side, gently brushing back the knotted strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face. Clark appeared in the doorway soon after, his brows furrowed when he saw the state of his friend.
"Yeah, just ran into some bad people and then got saved by another guy by falling onto a roof."
Lois blinked at her, letting out a sigh as she brought her hand to her forehead, trying to alleviate some of the stress she had been caused by Stella's current description of the situation.
"Clark, could you grab her some water?"
He nodded without a word, quietly walking out of the room to the small kitchen. Stella was glad she remembered to do the dishes.
Turning back to her friend, Lois's hands gently held onto her arms as she sat up, grimacing at the dreadful ache that once more burned in her muscles. She said nothing as she waited for Clark to return, only opening her mouth with more questions when Stella finished half of the glass.
"Okay, let's rewind. Tell me the whole story."
Despite the itch that still existed in her throat, and the heavy lead-like feeling of her limbs, she began to recount the whole story for her two journalist friends. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought they were looking for a story from her, not that they even lived in Gotham in the first place.
When she finished, she felt a pit grow in her stomach. What if someone had come for her and Nightwing, but they had been too late? His injuries were surely much worse than her own, and she didn't recall waking up at all before now.
Clark was unusually quiet, his brows furrowed and arms crossed. Stella was sure he was going to chastise her for her unsafe actions, say something about how she should've called him when she was on the rooftop, that she shouldn't have trusted a random masked vigilante even though he had previously saved her life.
Instead, he simply stepped forward and placed a hand on Lois's shoulder.
"I'll be back. I'm going to go check on something."
Him and Lois shared a look that Stella couldn't quite read, something that happened often, secretive and sly. She learned long ago that it would never make sense to her.
After he had left, Lois let out another sigh, giving Stella a small smile.
"Well, I'm really glad you're okay. We can wait to get your dress, or you can always just order something online. I think I would prefer to know that you weren't out there making decisions that put you on top of a roof."
A small smile came to Stella's lips, and she rolled her eyes at Lois's words. She was being the same friend that she had always been, and she was glad.
For the next few hours, Lois helped Stella to the bathroom to brush her hair and start the shower, standing outside the room the entire time in case she fell or needed any help, though Stella insisted she would be fine. With the burn that occurred every time she breathed, she wasn't so sure she believed it either.
When she was scrubbed clean of the previous nights debacle with her favorite body soap and her hair was clear of any debris, Lois had ordered takeout to be delivered to their apartment. Stella thought she was fussing far too much as she ordered her to sit on the same couch she'd had since she left her college apartment, taking the initiative to help clean up the stray trash that Stella had collected around the space over the last week.
"Lois, I know how much you hate cleaning up after people, you don't have to do this," Stella said, feeling far too guilty for making her friend worry.
Lois simply let out a small airy laugh, continuing to fold the throw blanket and place it on the back of her couch.
"I do, but you do things you hate for the people you love."
This time, when the tears began to well in her eyes, they were not hollow. They were warm and salty and real, and even though she had been in plenty of physical pain over the past twelve hours, the kindness that came from her closest friend finally unplugged the well.
Her cries came out in long ugly bursts, barely able to breathe as Lois came to her side, gently hugging her to make sure she didn't squeeze too tight.
By the time the tears finally dried up, the takeout had been eaten through sobs and Clark had once again entered the apartment. A small smile came to his face at the scene of his precious fiancée comforting one of his closest friends.
Both of them had insisted they would stay the night, Clark offering to sleep on the floor without any blankets or pillows while Lois would take the couch with the single thin extra blanket that she kept around for hotter days. It took nearly an hour to convince them that she would be okay, that if they wanted to stay she would pay for a hotel room for them.
After much negotiation and Stella shoving fifty dollars in Clark's hand to pay for half of the room, she made sure to lock the door carefully after them.
As much as she tried to hide it, just spending a few hours with Lois and Clark had completely drained whatever energy she had replenished last night.
The sun had already mostly disappeared from the sky, once again hidden behind tall buildings, even though it felt like the day had dragged on endlessly. In her dim apartment, she found herself sitting back on her couch, staring at the TV that she had yet to turn on.
What had come of Nightwing after all?
She couldn't help but feel responsible for the entire incident. She knew it wasn't smart to cut through the alley, that it was far too dark to be safe, even though she was nowhere near the heart of Crime Alley. She had been the one to get herself in trouble with the Penguin, and she had been the one to fall from the sky which is what caused Nightwing to shelter her from the crash on the roof. If it wasn't her fault, who's was it?
Her stomach growled, reminding her that despite her fatigue, she would need to eat if she wished to replenish any of her energy without sleeping the day away.
Sighing, she dragged herself over to the small kitchen. She hoped there was some leftovers or something in the fridge, maybe a microwave dinner in the freezer. There was no way she was going to be able to cook now.
Before she find anything to satiate her hunger, the quiet sound of her bedroom window sliding open caught her attention.
Shit. They had come for her despite it all.
For a moment she cursed herself for not buying a firearm the minute she moved to the city, or at least a taser or some sort of weapon, because now all she had as a potential weapon was the cast iron skillet her father had gifted her that was far too heavy for her to wield right now.
It was silent.
Deciding her only option was to hide, she quickly ducked behind her island countertop, cringing once more as the fire ignited in her muscles from the movement. Whoever had opened her window either hadn't stepped foot in the apartment yet, or was exceptionally soft-footed. A quiet creak of her floorboards much closer to her than she would've liked told her they had already made it in.
Her heart was racing, echoing in her eardrums as she tried to come up with some sort of way to protect herself. Maybe she could just call Clark, and if he didn't pick up, at least he'd get a voicemail of her murder. It would scar him, but it would be some evidence.
She held her breath as she slowly reached for her pocket, intending to carefully slip out her phone and make the call as quietly as possible. Her hands met an empty pocket, and she cursed herself.
With no phone in her grasp, she would either try to plead for her life, or run for the front door and hope she wasn't apprehended before the person who'd broken in got to her.
Just as she had willed herself to make a break for the door, a hand touched her shoulder.
The scream that left her body was more packed than she could've though it would be, sheer terror bursting from her abdomen as she turned and tried to get away from the person who had grabbed her. Before she could, he called out to her.
"Wait, it's just me, don't run."
Where had she heard that voice before? As much as she should've just kept trying to get away, she found herself stopping for the stranger instead.
Despite her better judgement which resounded through her as Lois's voice telling her to "get the hell out of that apartment and run", she took a deep breath and turned around, coming face to face with the person who had scaled the side of her building just to try and convince her to stay instead of run.
Her eyes widened at the sight, the black suit looking flawless despite the state she had seen it in the day before, as if he had never been injured in the first place.
"Nightwing," she whispered, breathless at the sight of him.
He was fully suited up, and she was sure that he was either readying to go out for another night of crime fighting, or did so just to hide his identity from her. Assuming from the fact that he knew where to find her in her apartment, he or someone he knew had been the ones to bring her home last night just as she had suspected.
Without saying anything, he took a small step forward, looking quite stiff.
"I wanted to.. make sure you were okay."
Silence enveloped the both of them, bouncing off the walls of her apartment and stifling the air.
What was she supposed to say to that?
A random man had entered her apartment after she nearly got him killed last night, surely risking his life once again to even get inside. What was she to start with, thanking him, or apologizing to him?
Before she could say anything, he had already started towards the bedroom again, no doubt getting ready to leave through the window again instead of using her front door.
"Wait! Don't go," she found herself calling out to him abruptly, the words tumbling out of her before she could stop them.
He paused in his steps, his head turning towards her after a moment. Although she could not see his eyes, and no smile appeared on his face, there was a reason he stopped when she called out to him. Maybe he really had been concerned for her after all.
"I just.. thank you. And I'm sorry. For everything," Stella's voice gradually quieted as she spoke.
A wave of embarrassment washed over her, and she felt so silly. What would a man like Nightwing care that she was thanking him, that she was apologizing? All his job including was catching criminals and saving lives, there was no need for him to stick around for the aftermath. But then again, if that were really the case, why had he shown up in the first place?
For a moment he just stood, gazing at her out of mask and saying nothing. Then he turned his head back in line with his body, no doubt getting ready to leave once again.
"You don't need to thank you apologize to me, I was just doing my job."
"But I almost got you killed. I mean, you look like you're going right back out there. Did you even get your wounds treated? Shouldn't you rest or-"
The sound of his heavy boot touching the floor silenced her as he faced her, and she swore there was something of a smirk on his face, just barely a whisper of it.
"I deal with dangerous people every day, yesterday was no different. A little more exciting, maybe."
Was he.. cracking a joke?
All Stella could do was look at him incredulously, a small smile of her forming when she realized that he really spoke those words aloud. It seemed that Nightwing wasn't as stoic as Batman had a reputation for being, despite their partnership.
Suddenly, his faced hardened, the smirk disappearing as he once again spoke.
"Listen, I know you got hurt yesterday too, which is part of why I'm here, but it's not the only reason." he said, his tone as serious as his face.
Two things came to mind for Stella; one— she stumbled upon something much more serious last night when she interrupted the Penguin and his lackeys and two— that he suspected she tried to see his face under the mask. The only question was, which one was he referring to? Was he going to question her about the Penguin, or threaten her for exposing his identity? Surely he knew she was a reporter, after all, he knew where she lived. Maybe that's all he knew.
"Do you remember anything last night after I woke up on the rooftop?"
Well, that's not at all what she was expecting.
"No," she said slowly, her brows furrowing, "Is there something I should remember?"
Nightwing shook his head, saying nothing for a moment. He seemed almost relieved at her response, though there were no obvious changes in his body language.
After another few moments of silence, he awkwardly brushed his hands on his sides. If Stella didn't know any better, she would assume he was a Midwestern man with the gesture. It made a small smile come to her face once again.
"I have to go," he said, finally turning once again and making his way into the bedroom.
Stella followed after him as quickly as she could manage, catching him just as he swung one leg over her windowsill.
"Wait!"
He paused, turning back to her and looking at her through the white covers that concealed his eyes.
She was going to see him again, she decided. Whatever happened while she was asleep was a mystery to her, but he knew something and she was going to find out. Not only that, she was going to find out what the Penguin was doing in the alleyway that night. A criminal journalist she was not, but curious she was anyways, even if it meant endangering her life again.
"If I walk down another dark alleyway, will you be there to save me again?"
This time, a smile did pull at his lips, causing Stella to blink blankly at the sight.
"I wouldn't suggest you get yourself into trouble just to see me again."
Without another word, he ducked under the window and swung his other leg over the sill, disappearing into the night.
Stella stood in that same spot for minutes more, her heart racing and body much too tired to even think about eating anymore. Nightwing had just flashed a brilliant smile at her, and it intrigued her all the more.
