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media-naranjita · 7 months

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Stick Season

01. Nightwing

You found yourself nervously chipping off the black nail polish on your fingernails, your editor-in-chief having called you into her office. You were sitting in a small chair outside her office, waiting for her to finish her phone call. A meeting with the editor-in-chief could only mean one thing: you were definitely getting sacked. God, you hated how this made you feel, you felt as the anxiety bundled in your stomach desperately trying to creep its way out.

The snap of fingers broke you from your anxious thoughts, your editor-in-chief was trying to get your attention. “You,” She huffed, pointing her perfectly manicured finger at you, “Come on, let’s go. I don’t have all day.”

You took a seat in front of her desk, “Am I in trouble or something, Sandra?” It took all your courage to get those words out without stuttering, people in positions of power made you nervous.

“No, the opposite.” Sandra swiveled her computer screen around, the article you had written on Gotham’s most famous vigilantes on display. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in. Sandra continued, “You wrote this, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, a couple months ago, why?”

Sandra sat back in her seat, “It did well, surprisingly so. We don’t get many new writers publishing such well-written articles around here.” You gave Sandra a tight-lipped smile, unsure of what to say as she continued, “I want you to write another one.”

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

“I want you to write another article like this,” she repeated. “I don’t know how you got the interviews for it, but I want another one and I know you can do it.”

You hesitated, “Look, it’s not like I’m personally friends with any of the people I wrote about. I’m not sure that I’d be able to replicate this article with other vigilantes, they’re not exactly known for being sociable and approachable people, you know?” You weren’t entirely sure where that burst of confidence had come from, but since you knew you weren’t being fired you were willing to take the risk.

“Oh?” Sandra raised her eyebrow accusingly, “Let me phrase it differently, then.” She paused and straightened in her seat, you felt the anxiety building in your stomach all over again. Fuck, you should have stayed home today. Sandra cleared her throat, “You haven’t put out another article of this caliber, as editor-in-chief I need to make sure my writers are not putting out mundane, boring work. So, if you want to keep your job here, you’re going to get me that article, you know?” She was mocking you, using your own words against you. Her words came out in a venomous tone, if looks could kill you’d have been dead five minutes ago.

You nodded reluctantly, “Okay, so who do you have in mind for the article? Red Robin? One of the Titans?”

Sandra smiled tautly, “No, they’re not people worth writing about. They’ve been written about a million times over, but you,” She pointed at you, “You know how to interview vigilantes in a way that makes them human. That’s the type of article I want for this person.”

You let out a small laugh, “Who are you trying to make more human? The Joker?”

“Close,” Sandra hummed, “You’re going to write an article about Red Hood.”

“Really?” You laughed, “What am I supposed to do? Hold up an orphanage and hope Red Hood shows up to stop me?” You stopped laughing when you saw the look on Sandra’s face, “You’re being serious?”

“Dead serious,” Sandra replied.

“Yeah, I might die trying to get you this article,” You shook your head, “I can’t do that. It’s an impossible task, Sandra, and completely unfair.”

“Then I guess you better start praying for a miracle,” Sandra mocked. “I expect a progress report by the end of next week. If you don’t have any progress by then don’t even bother showing up for work.” You opened your mouth to speak but she cut you off, “That’s all, you can leave.” She motioned towards the door, shooing you away.

***

“I fucking hate her!” You groaned, “How the fuck does she expect me to just stumble into Red Hood and ask him for an interview? Can you imagine? ‘Hey, Red, your mask looks beautiful in the moonlight, can you please tell me why you kill people? ’ What a fucking joke.” You grumbled.

Jo, your co-worker and best friend sat across from you in the diner booth, laughing along as you ranted. “You never know, she might be trying to covertly set you and Red Hood up.”

You rolled your eyes, “Jo, this is not funny.” You waved your hands around, “Sandra is trying to kill me. There is no fucking way I would ever come out of an encounter with Red Hood alive.”

Jo shrugged, “You never know, he might have a thing for bookish journalists.” She was holding back a smile on her face.

“I am not bookish, I’m punk rock, Jo.” You scoffed, “How the fuck am I supposed to do this? I swear God gives his weakest soldiers his strongest battles.”

Jo laughed, “Okay, everything you just said was incredibly punk rock.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“I fucking hate you, you know?” You chucked a spare fry at her, “I hope the little green Titan turns into a pterodactyl and shits on your car tonight.”

Jo only laughs louder, “Okay, I’ll stop, but eat your food so we can leave.” She pauses and points a finger at you, “And take back what you said about pterodactyl shit hitting my car.”

***

After having dinner with Jo at the diner, you started making your way home. She had insisted on driving you home, but you declined, arguing that you needed some time alone to think. After lots of hesitation and many promises of calling her as soon as you were home she drove off.

It was dark out, but you stayed where the streetlights illuminated the sidewalk. You’d learned not to walk in the shadows in Gotham, at least not if you wanted to stay alive and harm-free.

A cold breeze blew against you, making you shiver and curl in on yourself tighter. Even with a warm beanie and gloves, Gotham found a way to make everyone miserably cold. The backpack on your back made the cold a little more bearable, despite the fact that it was sitting pretty much flat on your back. It was a bad idea to carry a stuffed backpack in Gotham, you were more prone to getting robbed. But a flat-looking backpack? Most people would assume you merely had a couple of notebooks stashed inside, at least this was what you’d learned over the years.

Unfortunately for you, the next three streetlights ahead were out, creating a pathway of darkness for you to cross. You weighed your options, if you walked fast enough through the streetlights you could probably walk away unharmed. If you didn’t walk under the burnt out streetlights and took the long way home you’d be on the Gotham streets at night for much longer than you needed to be.

“Fuck,” You muttered to yourself, “I can do this, it’s just a little stretch of darkness, right? I can do this.” You were mentally preparing yourself to run through the stretch of darkness on the sidewalk but were interrupted.

“Stay calm and live, panic and die.” A man’s voice rang through your ears, your could feel the barrel of a gun pressed against your back.

You nodded in compliance, too scared to put up a fight. On a normal day you wouldn’t have been out so late and your route home would have been completely safe. Apparently, today was not a normal day: first the Red Hood assignment and now a robbery? Great.

“Good,” He pulled you into the darkness, “Now take out whatever money and possessions you have on you and put them in your backpack.” The man was smart enough to wear a ski mask, hiding any possible identifiers from you. His breath was warm against the side of your face, making your stomach churn at the thought of how quickly this could go bad. Despite this, you did as you were told and began to put all your belongings in the backpack.

“Can I at least keep my ID?” You managed to squeak out.

“Does this look like a negotiation, girl?” The man’s voice was cold, “Hurry the fuck up, I don’t have your time.”

Tears were building in your eyes, mostly from the anger and anxiety that had built in your chest. If you had just listened to Jo you wouldn’t be in this situation and you wouldn’t have to go to the Gotham DMV anytime soon. The whole thing was entirely unnecessary and completely avoidable.

Just as you were finished putting your belongings in your backpack, you heard something whizz past you. In an instant, the man who was previously robbing you was pinned up against the wall, being held by batarangs of some sort. Ill-timed excitement built in your chest, were you about to meet Batman?

“John!” A man’s familiar voice called from across the street, “What did I tell you about accosting the people of Gotham?” The man tutted, “We had a deal, John. I get you a job, and you would trade in your life of petty theft for an honest one.”

John's voice shook as he spoke, “How did you know it was me?”

The masked man stepped into the light and you finally recognized the voice, realizing it was Nightwing who had stopped John. You had interviewed Nightwing for your newspaper in the original vigilante article, building somewhat of a rapport between you and Nightwing. He gave you a brief smile as he approached, you didn’t know if it was recognition or mere acknowledgement on his behalf. You hoped it was recognition, mostly because it would make writing your article a lot easier if you had help from a vigilante who knew Red Hood.

“I never forget a face, John.” Nightwing said, never losing the kind but firm tone in his voice. “You do know I’m going to have to turn you in, right?”

John nodded in defeat, “Yeah, I figured.”

Nightwing removed the batarang looking things from their spot on the wall, releasing John from the grip they had on him. Nightwing had caused no damage to John having perfectly pinned him by his clothes rather than any of his limbs. He then took some cuffs out of his utility belt and placed them on John, sitting him down up against the wall.

“Now, back to you,” Nightwing turned to you, pointing accusingly at you. “What did I tell you about walking around Gotham at night? Do you have a death wish or something?”

He did remember you. Your eyes widened slightly at his accusing tone, “Not to do it?”

“And you did it anyway, didn’t you? This, ” Nightwing motioned between you and John, “is the exact kind of interaction I was telling you to avoid. No offense, John.”

“None taken,” John shrugged.

“It’s not like I had a choice, dude. It was either I walked home or I froze to death waiting outside of the office.” He didn’t have to know you had a choice and were definitely lying to him.

Nightwing groaned, “Okay, let’s go.”

“Where?” You and John said in unison.

“Turning you in and home, respectively.” Nightwing replied, “The station isn’t too far and I’ll make sure you get home safe, can’t rescue you twice in one night, can I?”

You bit back a reply, not wanting to frustrate Nightwing anymore. He looked like a mother hen who had too many chicks to take care of, only one chick’s misbehavior away from snapping.

You followed silently behind Nightwing, doing your best to keep from taking up too much space on the sidewalk. He eventually snapped at you for walking behind them, urging you to stay in his sight. You almost laughed, he really was a mother hen.

Nightwing led the rest of the way to the station, only a few minutes out of your usual route home. He made sure you were standing in a place he could see you as he left John inside of the station. He’d returned fairly quickly and let you know he was following through on his promise of getting you home.

“I really don’t need an escort home,” You argued, “I’ve gone my whole life without needing one. What’s one more night, huh?” Nightwing’s expression grew blank, he was frustrated with you and you knew it. “Okay, fine!” You said, caving into his silent demands, “But don’t stalk me when this is all over.”

“Thank you,” Nightwing flashed a stupidly smug smile, “Lead the way.”

You began walking side by side, internally grumbling at the smug look on Nightwing’s face.

“I wouldn’t stalk you, by the way.” Nightwing said, breaking the silence.

You snorted, “Why? Am I not interesting enough to stalk or something?”

“You’re a journalist in Gotham, unless you’re living a double life of crime, I doubt you’re doing anything stalk-worthy.” The tone in Nightwing’s voice was light, he was joking–at least that’s what you hoped.

“I take full offense in that statement,” You gasped, “I’m interesting as fuck.”

“Yeah?” Nightwing scoffed, “You’re wearing khakis, dude.”

“We can’t all wear spandex and have our asses on display, can we?”

“My ass is not on display!” Nightwing shook his head in disapproval, a slight smile on his face.

“Okay,” You trailed off, a smile growing on your face at the familiarity that Nightwing provided. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Not a problem,” he shrugged, “But can I ask what you were doing walking around Gotham in the dark?”

You groaned, “I already told you I was trying to get home.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly, not believing a word you just said. You continued, “Fine. If you must know, I needed some time to think.”

He scoffed, “And you thought Gotham at night was the right place for that?”

“No, I guess not.” You shrugged, “I was trying to wrap my head around the nearly-impossible article my boss wants me to write.”

“So you almost died because of work?” He snorted.

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t you literally risk your life every day because of work?”

He was silent for a moment, “Touché.”

You continued walking together towards your apartment, silently praying no one took a picture of the two of you and posted it somewhere. If word got back to Jo that you had to be escorted by Nightwing you’d never hear the end of it.

Nightwing’s voice broke you from your thoughts, “What was the article about? Maybe I can help?”

“Um,” You cleared your throat, “I need to interview Red Hood.”

Nightwing laughed, “Okay, what’s the real article assignment?” You looked at him blankly. The domino mask over his eyes hid any real expression, but you could tell by the way the mask shifted that his eyes had widened slightly. “Oh, you’re being serious?”

“Yup,” You ran a hair over your face in frustration, “The cherry on top of all of this is that if I don’t get that interview, I’m fired. God, I hate Sandra.”

“What kind of interview were you looking for?” Nightwing asked curiously.

“She wants me to write about him like I did for you and all the other heroes I interviewed. Unfortunately for me, Red Hood doesn’t seem like the type to sit down for an interview.”

Nightwing shrugged, “He can be difficult, but if you gain his trust I could see him agreeing to an interview.”

You snorted, “You have a plan for me to gain his trust by the end of next week? ‘Cause that’s when Sandra wants a ‘progress report’.” You groaned, “She’s trying to kill me.”

Nightwing laughed, “I think I could help you.” You stopped in your tracks to soak up every word he said, urging him to continue. “I could call in a favor with Red, one that guarantees you meeting him.” Before you could voice your excitement he cut you off, “But, that doesn’t guarantee him agreeing to a whole interview with you. He doesn’t do well with the press.”

You muttered, “Understatement of the year.”

Red Hood had just been harshly scrutinized by the press for shooting a paparazzo’s camera. He had been photographed in an incredibly negative light, pictured dangling a man by his leg over a balcony. What hadn’t been reported was that the man being dangled had stolen from some kids living on the streets. Red Hood had also paid the man for the damage done to his camera, tossing a small wad of money at him and walking away. Despite the good that took place that night, only the bad had been reported, causing an incredibly volatile media relationship for Red Hood.

“Do you think you could convince him if I get him to meet you somewhere?” Nightwing continued, “You’re gonna have to do your best to be charming, none of that smart ass shit.”

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise I won’t nervously let something slip.”

Nightwing nodded, “I’ll tell him to meet you on the rooftop of your building sometime this week, okay?”

You nodded, “Thank you,” A wide smile on your face. “I owe you one, yeah?”

Nightwing shook his head, “Nah, just don’t make him look like an asshole.”

You laughed, “I’ll do everything in my power to make him sound like the best in Gotham City.”

“Okay, you’re trying to sell a believable article here, right?”

The two of you began walking in the direction of your apartment building again, sharing idle conversation as you walked. Things were looking up for you after all.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #nightwing #i love jason todd #hes my baby girl #i posted this on AO3 #im also posting it here 🫦🫦🫦#dont tell me if u dont like it #ill cry #thank u #bye

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