The mission had gone south in an instant. What was supposed to be a simple recon turned into an ambush. You were hit before you could react, a sharp pain shooting up your side as you dropped to one knee.

“Y/N! What’s your status?!” Nightwing’s voice cut through the earpiece, urgent and tight with worry.

“I’m fine. Just a scratch,” you gritted out, trying to push yourself up, but the pain was too much.

“You’re not fine,” Nightwing snapped, his voice sharper than usual. “Where are you?”

“I just need a minute—”

“Don’t push yourself,” he interrupted, now full of concern. You could hear him moving quickly.

Before you could say anything more, Nightwing was beside you, kneeling down. His gloved hands immediately checked your injury, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood.

Without hesitation, he scooped you up into his arms, lifting you easily, ignoring any protest you might’ve had.

“Nightwing, I can still fight—”

“No,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “You’re not fighting anymore. I’m not letting you risk it.”

His hold on you was firm, his body tense as if afraid to let you go for even a second. As he moved quickly, every step was deliberate and protective. He didn’t even crack a smile when you shot him a teasing look.

“You’re staying with me, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice low and serious. “Don’t even think about trying to escape this. I won’t let you fall.”

When he found a safe spot, he radioed for backup. “Nightwing to Zatanna, now.”

His eyes stayed locked on you, full of intensity. “I’ve got you. You’re not going anywhere. I won’t let anything happen to you.”