Dick Grayson one shots

Poisonous P2

Dick hadn't wanted to go on patrol that night. The anniversary of his patents' death had broken him more than usual this year, and he hadn't wanted to leave the corner of his apartment where he'd been crying and hoping for solace.

Nevertheless, Blüdhaven had needed him... needed Nightwing at least this one last time.

So Dick had picked up the fragments of his broken smile and tried to piece it back together. He had to find some way to cover the sadness and the pain of being alone.

Maybe it would have been better for him to have stayed home.

—

Dick collapsed in the corner of one of his safe houses. He clamped his hands to the gushing wound on his side, and tried to calm his breathing.

A feeling of intense fatigue came over him as soon as he was on the ground. He wanted to just let it carry him away into unconsciousness, but he tried to stay awake as long as he could.

Dick's eyelids drifted down gradually until he snapped them open again. Why was he keeping them open again? Right... something about concussions... or calling for help maybe... He had taken a rather hard hit to the head, in addition to the stab wound on his side.

Another groan of pain made its way past Dick's lips, and he wished he'd been able to make it to one of his safe houses that he actually kept well supplied. There was nothing here for him to bind up his wound with, not even a bandaid.

As Dick slowly drifted off from blood loss, the image of his assailant came to mind. They had obviously been an assassin, though from where... Dick couldn't tell.

'I should tell Bruce... maybe he could help me,' Dick thought. That thought was quickly struck down by another. 'He'd only tell you you're weak. You should've been stronger, faster, more observant.'

Dick was never good enough, at least not in his own eyes...

At this moment, death was sounding pretty good to Dick. He'd finally get to see his parents again, and apologize for their deaths which he believed to be his own fault... maybe he'd even be able to see Wally.

"No one would even care... they'd all be better off without me," Dick whispered to himself, finally convinced that nobody was coming, that he should just let go.

Dick finally allowed his eyes to slip closed, and his limp hands slid off of his bleeding side.

—

'N suspected concussion,' read the text on Jason's phone.

It was immediately followed by another notification. 'N heart rate dangerously low.'

Jason stared in shock at the messages on his phone. He had set up a network with Dick as Nightwing and Red Hood a while back. Both of their suits were equipped with sensors that would alert the other if they were in danger.

It had been the easiest way for Dick to get help in the case of an emergency, ever since Bruce had taken the batfamily's standard emergency contact button from him and told him to get lost, but the two had hardly used it since they'd put it in place a few months ago.

Jason stood and walked over to the edge of the rooftop he'd been sitting on, debating whether or not he should go find his brother.

"Where ya goin' Jay?" Tim asked, standing from where he'd been seated on the edge of the rooftop.

Tim and Damian had been staying in Blüdhaven with Jason for the past two days while both Bruce and Alfred were away on some sort of business trip.

Normally Bruce would send the two younger bats over to Dick's apartment, but none of them had talked with him since spyral.