Nose Goes, Kick Follows (23)

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Nico figured that if Bruce were to actually punish him, he would ground Nico.

But that didn't really matter to him because Nico had been fuming in his room for the past few days, refusing to look anywhere near Jason, or Bruce, or anyone else for that matter.

Nico had thought about going to camp, but he didn't want to deal with anyone, especially Leo. He was just too much for Nico.

Nico sat on his bed, holding his helmet (which he had figured out to detach via eight clamps on either side of the expanding ring.) and inspecting it. The face shield was nearly shattered, and a large crack spanned nearly the entire surface.

In fact, Nico's entire suit was broken and beaten up. The black armor had cracks and scratches all over, nearly the entirety of his shoulder plate was gone, and the faint markings of Deathstroke's blade seemed to glow every time Nico looked at his suit.

Nico knew that a good majority of the technology had to be broken and knew for sure that the entire thing smelled like sewer water.

As Nico sat there, pressing the buttons on his helmet knowing they wouldn't do anything, his mind wandered back to Jason's words.

'You think that you can just bounce back from whatever happens to you!'

Nico had been through enough situations where he had gotten hurt, much more hurt than he had been over the past few weeks. He could walk off a simple poisoning and being impaled. He could handle being slashed. He had been through worse.

Hades, Nico had survived a several thousand-foot fall. Something his armor, specially made and designed for hero work by Leo, hadn't survived.

Nico sighed and threw his helmet down on the ground, watching as the crack grew slightly as it made contact with the ground. His foul mood hadn't improved, and spending three days stewing in it certainly wasn't making it any better.

Nico sighed, standing, and running his hands through his hair, blinking as he realized how long it had gotten. The ends were curling around the nape of his neck and as Nico glanced over his shoulder he saw that it swirled around his ears and forehead. He hadn't realized he had curly hair like this.

He didn't like it. It was probably time for him to get a haircut.

The only problem was that Nico still didn't want to leave his room. It was bad enough he had to leave to eat, and the fact he had to eat with the Waynes only made it worse.

Nico glanced down at Jason's watch, which he still hadn't given back. It was closer to dinner time than Nico had realized. He glanced out the window. The sun was tinting the sky pink and purple.

Gotham had surprisingly pretty sunsets despite its smog and pollution-filled skies.

"Nico?" Nico groaned loudly, making sure whoever was on the other side of the door heard him.

"Yes?" Nico drawled, pushing himself to his feet and adjusting one of his socks.

"Alfred says dinner is ready." The person said. Nico frowned; their voice was too muffled for Nico to hear them clearly.

"Okay, I'll be down in a few minutes," Nico said, waiting until he couldn't hear the person's footsteps anymore and then waited a little longer just to make absolutely sure that no one was outside his room or in the halls before heading out.

Nico climbed down the stairs, making sure to look as grumpy as possible so everyone knew he was still very mad at them.

"Ah, Master Nico," Alfred said with a smile as Nico entered the dining room. "I have made grilled chicken, baked potato, and steamed vegetables. I hope you are hungry."

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