The car. He knew the sounds of that car, the sounds of his car. He stilled, went rigid, senses alert and open to his surroundings. The man in his hands was limp but the Batman didn’t let go of him. His eyes were closed and the color was slowly seeping out of his face, turning his complexion whiter than it was supposed to be. If he was conscious he might have been thrilled to see Nightwing arrive at the scene. However, his eyes had snapped shut and his head lolled to the side. He had no idea what was going on around him and if Batman had his way, he would never find out.
The guy was gone and Batman was bewildered, angrily bewildered by what Nightwing had done. His hands were empty and the blame was standing directly in front of him, wearing the same suit the kid in the cave had been wearing. Of course. He should have expected that. Avoiding him forever wouldn’t happen because it was too good to be true. Nobody ever got what they wanted.
“Who says I want anything out of him?” His eyes slipped from Nightwing’s face and to the entrance of the alley where the car was parked, and then right back to the costumed hero again. He wanted desperately to say something about the Tumbler and who it didn’t belong to, but he kept his comments under lock and key.
“Back up before I hurt you.” The warning needed to given first, before he said or did anything else.