Dick Grayson one shots

Wounded soldier

Dick's body was curled unnaturally on the ground, limbs splayed at odd angles. His mouth open just a crack.

The worst thing however, was the blood. Crimson flecked the walls, coating the floor and dripping from the acrobat's open mouth. Smears of it contrasted darkly with the paleness of his skin.

Glassy eyes blinked open when Bruce knelt at his side, the mask that had once covered them long gone.

"B..." Dick breathed, reflexive tears slipping down his cheeks.

"No..." Bruce mumbled, frozen in place.

"W-was I... a... a good soldier?" Dick asked, voice barely a whisper.

Bruce was breathing quicker now, his hands fumbling for something from his utility belt. Surely he had something in there that would fix this... fix his son.

"H-he's... he's safe... R-obin," Dick rambled, his sentence broken with a bloody cough. "S-saved him... I... I..."

Bruce gently shushed the younger, finding some gauze pads to help staunch the bleeding. "Robin's safe... everyone's safe. Y-you're... you're... going to be okay," he reassured.

Damian had Dick's mask clenched tightly in his hands, blood soaking his knees, his gloves, his cape... "I-I... I'm sorry," he mumbled, voice cracking. "He... he." Damian let out a broken sob. "He pushed me out of the way."

"Dami," Dick mumbled, blood slicking his lips.

Damian's sobs grew harsher, his tears soaking into his mask and making the adhesive loosen.

"He's going to be okay," Bruce tried to reassure, hoping Damian wouldn't notice the tremble in his voice.

The quick tapping of Tim's approaching footsteps hurt Bruce's heart just a bit. Nobody should have to see a loved one like this.

Bruce heard the hitch of Tim's breath, but forced himself to tune it out as he packed gauze into wounds and wrapped others.

"Red Robin to watchtower..." Tim called, his voice quavering. "We need an emergency med evac at my location."

Dick's hand reached up to weakly grasp Bruce's own. "Scared," he mumbled.

Bruce's hands faltered for a moment. "Y-you'll be okay bud," he whispered.

Clark landed on the roof, his own breath catching as he caught the scent of iron in the air. "I-I'm here for the med evac," he said.

Bruce turned to him. "You're taking me too," he insisted.

"Batman..." Clark started.

"Please," Bruce begged.

Clark nodded, scooping Dick up in his arms and crouching for Bruce to climb unceremoniously on his back.

And then they were off...

—

Damian shot up in bed, sweat clinging to his skin. He could feel a sob building in his chest, the pressure of tears behind his eyes. He stood unsteadily, trying to quiet his breathing as he made his way carefully down the hall to his brother's room.

Moonlight spilled through the window, the room lacking its usual light breeze.

Dick's bed was noticeably empty.

Damian's breath caught in his chest. His eyes flicked down to his hands. They trembled. He could still feel the stickiness of the blood that coated them less than 24 hours before. He wiped them on his pajama pants, squeezing his eyes closed.

He opened his eyes, startling when the shadows in Dick's room seemed to glisten like blood for just a moment.

He didn't realize he'd been taking steps backward until he hit up against the wall. He slid down to sit on the floor, weaving the fingers of his shaking hands into the carpet fibers.

They'd promised him his brother would be okay...

Why had they said that? Why had he trusted them?

Damian squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop his tears from falling.

A memory flashed across his mind.

His name shouted from across the roof.

Hands pushing him down and out of the way.

Dick's body shielding him...

Why had he let them take his brother? He should've gone with them... should've insisted on going along like Bruce had... Why had he just believed them?

After all... people lie all the time.