A/N: This is just something that came to me right after the whole Aurora thing. I don't mean this story to be insensitive, because really, my heart goes out to all of the victims and their families. If I had the power to put that scuzbag in prison, I would.

Anyway, I hope that you like this. I'm not sure if this will remain a oneshot, or not, so review and tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or anything affiliated with DC. I just own the plot and my character Echo/The Mystic. Thank you.

"I warned you." The startling voice cut through the silence of the cave. He turned and was surprised to see a small red haired girl in a hooded cape sitting cross legged on a table. She looked just as she had the afternoon before at Mt. Justice. "I warned you, Nightwing."

Nightwing narrowed his eyes. "Echo," he greeted roughly. "How did you get in here?"

The pale girl's green eyes sparkled in amusement as she grinned at him through the shadow of her hood. "I didn't know we were on a first name basis, Nightwing," she replied sardonically. "Or, I guess I should say, Dick."

Nightwing's eyes narrowed further and the girl's grin widened.

"I don't have time for this, Mystic," he growled, calling her superhero name, growing more and more frustrated by the second. Her grin dropped and she adopted a doe eyed face that he'd come to recognize as the mask she used to avert people from her physical disposition. She blinked her green eyes, still sparkling - with what, he wasn't sure.

"You know what I'm here about, Nightwing," she stated, not missing a beat. "You know why I'm here."

He clenched his fists and looked away, telling himself that he didn't have to hear what she had to say. He should just leave, but Bruce would kill him if he left her alone in the Batcave. On the other hand, she'd been here before Nightwing had even gotten there. But that didn't matter, he thought defeatedly, Bruce would still find a way to blame it on him.

"Feeling guilty, Nightwing?" The Mystic questioned tauntingly. "Feeling... remorseful?"

Nightwing let out a feral growl and ran at the small girl. If Bruce could see me now, he thought sarcastically. He had her pinned down, on the table, each small wrist in either hand. How easy it would be to crush them.

Her fiery red hair splayed out above her, the curls looking like flames. Her eyes still sparkled as they locked his, and she grinned, wide and toothy, displaying two rows of white, perfect teeth.

This had felt too easy. And now he understood why. She had wanted him to pin her down. This was what she wanted. He growled again, pushing her down harder from his straddling position. She winced, discreetly and quickly, so that just as soon as he saw it, it was gone the next time he blinked. He felt a pang of guilt, adding to the quickly growing mountain weighing on his heart.

"You wanted this," he accused lowly. "You egged me on."

She blinked, her innocent facade not slipping. "Yes," she admitted, unabashed. She was limp underneath him, like a wet noodle or a ragdoll. "I'm glad you've realized this."

He scowled, bearing his teeth, as if he was ready to bite. Maybe he was.

"Why are you here?" he ground out, once again locking their gazes; icey blue and bright emerald.

"I wanted to hear your explanation, really," she said finally, after a moment's silence. "I want to know why you ignored my warning." She cocked her head to the side, the gesture looking too canine and innocent for the situation.

Nightwing froze. Really, he thought it'd been evident. She'd been on the team, not even a week and already did the others, the freshmen really, stay away from her, claiming she was weird, a witch, an oddball. And she didn't try to fit in with them, not even M'gann, who claimed The Mystic, as Zatanna had called her, was more powerful than any of them knew. Eventually, even M'gann grew tired of trying with her. Really, she was only on the team because of Zatanna, and a favor he owed her. Looking at her before, she seemed strange, showing up in her black hooded cape and sapphire leotard. She reminded him too much of Raven, almost a dead ringer with the costume. If it wasn't for the red curly hair and the green eyes, he'd even go as far as to say she was a cosplayer. But now he knew better. She was nothing more than human, maybe a psychic, maybe a witch. But she was nothing more than human, nothing super about her.

That was the reason why she didn't go on missions with the rest of the team, that was the reason why she was generally ignored, and that was the reason why no one seemed to trust her. Someone was always watching her and what she did. And what she did seemed strange...

"You had no proof," he said instead, narrowing his eyes at her, watching her eyes search his. He saw a flash of hurt in them, but just as quickly, it was gone.

"You don't trust me." She'd saw right through his lie. Her calm facade melted away. Her eyes sparkled with pooling tears and another pang of guilt surfaced. He felt as if he'd made a little girl cry, which - in a way - had. Her face instantly hardened a second later with a fierce glare and clenched her fists. He felt the muscles in her wrists tighten with surprise. "You thought I was leading the team into a wild goose chase! You thought... Did you think I was going to lead the team into a trap?" she asked with horrified disgust. She narrowed her eyes in betrayal as she looked into his eyes once more.

"I..." Nightwing didn't know what to say. All of those things had crossed his mind after she had approached him two days ago. And now that she was confronting him about it, he couldn't lie. Really, he couldn't say anything.

Her eyes widened, if that was even possible, and she started thrashing wildly, trying to fight against him. It was impossible, he knew, because he had her pinned. He was Nightwing, for goodness sakes. He didn't go down easily.

"Get off!" she cried angrily. "Get off me before I make you get off me!" Her legs and wrists struggled against him in useless fury. Her chest heaved and he wondered just how old she was.

"Make me get off you?" he asked tightly, sort of amused by her spunk. "What makes you think you can make me do anything?" he asked.
Her eyes hardened and she went still. The calm before the storm, he thought.

"You seriously underestimate me," she said in a low voice, dangerous voice. And then he had to wonder just who this girl was. She locked eyes with him and opened her mouth again. "Rule one, Nightwing: never underestimate your opponent," she said, her voice growing tight, "or your teammate." Before he'd even had time to blink, she'd disappeared from underneath him. And then just as suddenly, her voice was in his right ear and he felt a feather's weight on his back. "Rule two," she was whispering, "Don't blink."

He blinked.