1965-01-11 - Thanks for the Rescue
Summary: In the wake of Nightwing's defeat by Elektra, Bette treats her ex-boyfriend. They have a moment.
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bette-kane nightwing 


Bette doesn't sit around with the car, so off they go. "Well, put some pressure on there." she says. "Need both my hands so we don't crash." and she pushes the car to the limits of what she can safely make it do. The vehicle heads into the night, finding its way to a quiet but not especially good neighborhood in Gotham. She pulls the car into an alley and rushes around to help Nightwing out of the vehicle. "Parked as close as I dared. I'll come back and use that cover you have in the trunk." She puts one of his arms around her shoulders to better support him as they stagger their way towards relative safety.


Nightwing waits while Bette sets up things. Eventually, using the cover, he moves into the safehouse the young woman has set up for himself, leaning against Bette for her assistance. His arm hurts - but that's the least of his issues, as his hand rests over his right hip, just over the abdomen, where Elektra's sai impaled him. He's a little more pale than usual as he makes his way in and tries to find a place to settle, to gesture towards the phone. "Doctor Thompkins." Bette might remember her - she was the same doctor that treated her a couple of times when Robin brought her in with injuries. "Bring me the phone."


It's a Spartan place, just a couple of rooms furnished in Early Warehouse. She helps Nightwing ease into a chair before she collects the phone for the man. There's a medical kit, which she also brings along with the thing. "I guess the suit is helping you keep the juices inside, huh? Othwerwise I'd suggest having a look."


"Going to have to take it off in order to get a proper bandage on it." Nightwing responds, and glances up at Bette as he takes off his domino masks. "Not like you haven't seen it all before." he points out, though as a joke, it seems to fall flat as he pushes himself up to work one hand against the clasps of his armored top to get it off. The flesh beneath is red and dark in several areas - he's going to be bruised pretty damn well from the fight with Elektra.

The good news about his two wounds is that Elektra didn't use very large weapons. The hardest part about the sai wound is that it is deep on him, while the throwing knife wound was more shallow and longer.


Bette smiles grimly as Dick makes his little joke. "Mmm-hmm." she mutters noncommittally. "Looks like it hurts." She opens the medkit and finds some pieces of gauze, which she is about to press to his deep wound. "Do you think there was poison or anything on those things? Who was she, do you know?"


"If it was poisioned, I'd probably already be feeling the effects, I imagine." Dick responds as he hisses slightly when Bette's hand pressed down on the wound. Reaching up, he takes off Bette's mask to meet her eyes. "I thought you were done with the vigilante business, Bette." It's not a chide. If anything, it's concern.


"I couldn't let you have all the fun." Bette says, gentle humor inher voice. "I got bored." she admits, a little more seriously. "Good thing I did, huh? Better that I went tracking down those rumors of things going on around there, I guess." She nods, though, when Nightwing mentions that he probably would be a lot worse off if he had been poisoned. "Make your call to your doctor. I don't want to stand here all night keeping you from bleeding everywhere. the other cut we can probably clean and sew up, but I'm worried about the deep one."


"And here I thought you were enjoying the company, Bette." Dick offers with a small smirk. But now that the wound is covered and taped, he makes a move to call to the Batfamily doctor, Leslie Thompkins. "…she'll be waiting for me in the clinic. I can get there, I think." he offers to Bette. "As for who she was.. no clue. But I got a good look at her face." he admits. "And she's been running the Hand operations around New York."


"Well… it doesn't hurt that you're around." Bette admits. "On your own? Are you sure?" she asks, then roots around in the kit again. "At least take the smelling salts in case you feel like you're going to pass out." and she produces that from the supplies. "Well, she's probably not going anywhere, whoever she is. If she does, fine. But she probably won't. So, you have time to grow some new blood. Don't go chasing her down as soon as you're on your feet. Got that?" she says.


"Yes, mom." Dick deadpans, rising slowly to his fit to accept the salts from Bette. "You soloing out there? Be careful." he offers, a flash of concern in his eyes as he puts back on his domino mask. Before he leaves, he pauses and leans over, kissing Bette on the cheek. "Thanks for the assist." he offers to her, his voice quiet, but not quite as devoid of affection as he'd like it to be. Exes are a complicated thing. With that, he's heading out into the night again.


Bette can't help but smile at the kiss. "Take care, Dick." she says in response as he heads out. "Men." she sighs when he's out of earshot. "Can't live wieh 'em…"


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