If Nightwing hadn’t shown up there was a good chance that the man would have been dead by now. Or close to it. This Batman didn’t give second chances, didn’t believe in them, and when he grabbed somebody, he wasn’t playing around. With the armor he had on, the guy could have been seriously wounded and might have been. He couldn’t say for sure, not with Nightwing blocking his way.
“I just bashed his head in. What do you think I chased him down for? Verbal reprimanding?” Batman didn’t do things like that. He wasn’t big on talking and would rather get right down to it. Unfortunately, getting right down to it wasn’t on his victims’ list of things to do. His driving was a thing that would hurt somebody if he wasn’t careful. Which he wasn’t, not usually, not half the time. Bruce, the one who had been here before him, wasn’t exactly a model driver, but he wasn’t reckless and he went out of his way to make sure that nobody was run down.
Batman took a step that brought him even closer to Nightwing. He wasn’t going to be the one to back down and he was prepared to give the kid a fight if that’s what he wanted. It would have been different if he’d listened and retreated, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen.
He didn’t give him any warning, said nothing at all. Swiftly, he threw his fist at Nightwing’s face, the blades sprouting along the armor covering his arm. They wouldn’t rip into his skin, but they would be there for him to see.