warning: violence
"Don't touch me," and your words are cool venom. You don't even have to look over your shoulder to know that he is there, that his claws are poised, that his scaly hand is reaching for your shoulder. You can feel it, and it doesn't repulse you the way that it would most women. He's not human, maybe you're not either.. but he's still a man, and the thought of his slime and his teeth on your skin is worse than the thought of eating leaves. He retracts and settles low into the stream, his growl so reptilian and yet so childish that you roll your eyes while thumbing over the electronic device in your hand. You're supposed to be tracking the batmobile with Croc, and it is coming around the bend soon. You stiffen with a whisper, "Wait for it.." Because the animal is unpredictable and he seems as ready to storm into the street as he is to sink into the mud. Headlights burn up asphalt in the distance as the batmobile makes a hard swerve around the bend. "Stay here," you hiss.. although this wasn't your damn idea at all, and you hate being roped into things with chaotic, unpredictable madmen. You vault up into the road, into the stream of headlights and the car spins irrationally while somebody is ejected from the passenger seat with a girlish scream. Who in the hell..
From the driver's seat comes not the Bat, but a boy. You stand there frozen and looking at him, confused as to how a teenager gets a joyride in the goddamn batmobile. Not that you think on it for long, he's rushing forward for his ejected friend, but a whiff of your scent sends him to his knees. You kneel there too, before him, looking him in the eye. His pupils are dilated, and you exhale gently into his face, compelling him. He begins to talk, but the words are fuzzy, and he's so young you don't feel right about this, where is the goddamn Bat? "I.. I.." You press a finger to his lips in order to silence him because the screaming coming from behind you is sudden and all too obvious. Glancing over your shoulder, you see him. All scales and razor teeth, claws like knives, shredding into the girl that landed so helplessly near the stream. Her screaming stops soon, when the Croc begins to eat her. Bones crunch, ligaments pop, blood gushes.
You watch for a second, knowing more than ever that you don't belong here, that Hush can go fuck himself because this is not what you signed up for. Turning your eyes onto the terrified boy, the boy frozen from your breath and your touch, you whisper. "You need to get in the ca--" But the kick comes from out of nowhere, a flying sweep of boots that collide with the side of your head and send you spinning down the hill and into the stream with the tattered remains of the girl's body and Croc. As you fall, you see the blue and black suit. Nightwing. Not even the Bat.. not even the Bat to the rescue. The idea is funny somehow, and you feel scaly hands on your waist, hauling you up when you finally black out. That was one hell of a kick.