“I’m not telling you jackshit,” Dick hissed out, spitting a mixture of blood and saliva onto the ground between his feet.

How had he let himself get caught by the enemy? How did he let himself be chained and interrogated by the enemy?

“Shame, you have the information I need.” The assassin said, twirling the pocket knife in his hand. Before Dick could muster a response, the sound metal scraping along the cement echoed through the silence.

Dick snickered. “Guess my rescue is here,” he said, watching the assassin with mirth in his eyes. The scraping continued until it turned into sharp clicks, metal meeting cement.

The assassin had the right idea to begin to panic as the lights flickered on and off before they turned off completely. The scraping stopped, the warehouse grew quiet. Too quiet, eerily silent.

“Boo,” you whispered into the assassin’s ear just as the light went back on. Before he could react, you knocked the assassin out.

Dick whistled. “Bruce finally let you out? Can’t say I’m upset.” He chuckled. “Hey, babe,” he said as he watched you search for the key to the chains restraining him.