Dick Grayson one shots

I feel like I got hit by a car...

Me being like man I wish I had more requests... me also having like 30 partial drafts... 😑

Also... Boi this one is like soooo freaking long. Like I had one idea and was like... 'hmmm I could end this like trash, or try to resolve things a bit'. So I decided to be merciful, which was my downfall cuz it resulted in this behemoth of a chapter.
enjoy :)

Muffled yelling was the last thing Dick heard before the world faded to blackness.

He'd been on patrol, and tried to help out a little old lady with the groceries she was carrying.

When he saw two glowing lights speeding toward them he shoved the woman to the side before he himself was knocked off his feet, pain exploding through his body.

—

Dick's groggy eyes blinked open. His mind was foggy with pain medicine. It didn't block everything out however, as he could still feel a dulled pain circulating through him.

The room was quiet and absent of any sort of movement, so Dick tried to sit up, breath catching as his pain spiked.

"Lay still," Bruce said quietly, pushing Dick back onto the bed.

Dick let out a shaky breath as he relaxed back onto the pillows. "I feel like I was hit by a car," he groaned.

"You were," Bruce said, a tension in his voice that Dick didn't have the mental energy to try and interpret at the moment.

"Oh," Dick simply replied. That would explain why his whole body felt like it was covered in road rash. It probably was.

Dick shifted, wincing as he felt something pull.

Guilt flashed in Bruce's eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it, turning away slightly. "You should get some more rest," he said after a moment.

There it was again, that weird tension in Bruce's words. Dick barely noticed it though, as his eyes were already sliding shut.

—

Bruce heard a cry as he walked down the steps to the cave, his heart jumping into his throat as he ran the rest of the way down.

Dick was hanging onto the side of the hospital bed he'd been laying on, struggling to keep himself from falling all the way to the floor.

Bruce grit his teeth as he rushed to his son's side, helping him back into the bed. He should've known Dick would eventually try to get up and walk around. His oldest never was one to stay still for long.

Guilt blossomed in Bruce's chest when he saw the fear on Dick's face.

Dick glanced down at his right knee, his lip trembling. "Bruce... why can't I stand?" He asked, his voice raw with emotion.

Bruce shifted his gaze away, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Dick... you... you were hit... and your knee was crushed under one of the wheels," he said, voice one of mourning, weighted heavily with the knowledge of what he had to say. "You won't be able to return to being Nightwing."

Dick's eyes widened. How could this be happening? He was trying to save someone, to do something good. Why did he deserve this? "Y-you mean for a while right... it'll heal eventually right... I... I'll be out for a few months and then as good as new... Right?"

The pain and need for reassurance was so clear in Dick's voice, and it tore Bruce apart to have to deliver this type of world shattering news. "No Dick... the damage," Bruce's voice broke. "It's too much... I... I'm so sorry."

Dick hardly noticed the tears slipping down Bruce's cheeks, not for a good five or so minutes. "It's... it's not your fault. You don't need to apologize," he tried to comfort, his voice sounding immensely broken.