The Angel of Death

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

The ride back to the manor was quiet. My ambrosia stash was all back in my room, having run out of the stuff in my shadow pocket, which seemed like an oversight on my part that I shouldn't have so easily overlooked. But in my defence, things have been a little crazy lately.

I was seated in the passenger side of the Batmobile, trying my hardest to keep all the blood inside my wounds and not on the expensive-looking leather seats, although I was pretty sure they'd already had their fair share of gorey decoration. Bruce didn't speak unless it was to make sure I was still awake, and his tone was clipped and closed-off.

I understood his anger. I had lied to him. He had helped me, purely because he was a good person and he had placed his trust in me. I hadn't even been thankful enough to be honest about who I really am. I understood his anger, but that didn't mean I didn't think it was a little hypocritical of him. He lied to a lot of people about who he really was, too. The whole family did. It seemed unfair to be so upset at me for something the rest of them did daily.

The car stopped before I realised we were in the cave. I blinked, having apparently zoned out. Either that or I was beginning to lose consciousness finally, and that probably wouldn't be good. I had a really bad feeling that if I passed out, something bad was going to happen. It was a feeling I had learned to trust over the years of being a demigod. It was a tickling feeling in the back of my mind like when someone's watching you combined with the feeling you get right before you know your morning alarm's about to go off.

I popped the car door open and tripped out of the vehicle. I would've fallen if a pair of hands hadn't caught me and attempted to steady me on legs that felt like they were made of sand- boneless and heavy. I leaned forwards, hearing voices slur in and out of my hearing. Whoever was holding me grasped me tighter, almost hugging me. I didn't mind. They were warm, and I was so cold I shivered. Which hurt. I let my eyes fall closed, suddenly so much more tired than I had been when Bruce and I started the journey back home. Was I losing that much blood? I hadn't thought my injuries were that bad, but maybe I had missed something. Adrenaline can make a stab wound feel like nothing, something I had unfortunately witnessed and experienced too many times to be healthy for a sixteen year old.

"What happened? You– gone for like an hour!"

"Some kind of wolf– my weapons didn– powers?"

"–too much bloo– stitches?"

"Sever–artery in–shoulder–Alfred can–"

"Nico?" This voice cut much easier through the pleasant, pain-numbing fog of my brain and I slid my eyes open. A face swan into focus above me. I could feel that I was being moved- carried somewhere, and it was Dick's face above me as he looked down in concern. I grunted in annoyance, becoming aware of the throbbing in my shoulder, chest and leg and the tacky feeling of warm, sticky blood on my skin. "Hey buddy. Keep those eyes open, okay? You're gonna be alright."

"'Course I fuckin' 'm gonna be, I don' die this easy." Dick chucked at my slurred sentence, arms tightening as I shivered harder, aware of the bone-deep chill that had sunk in. Man, blood loss sucks. Definitely not the way to go. I blinked hard, forcing myself to try and focus. "Where're we going?"

"To the medbay. Those things that attacked you managed to tear open an artery in your shoulder. It's a small one, or you'd be dead already, but the quicker Alfred can stitch you up, the better."

I shook my head. "Don' need stitches." I muttered. "I need my bag."

"What? Nico, you're lucky you're still even conscious right now. You're not thinking clearly, let us help you." He gently lowered me onto a bed as I growled.

"No, I don' need fuckin' stitches. I need my bag–" I tried to roll off the bed but Dick held his hand against my uninjured shoulder, keeping me loosely pinned down, a testament to how weak I was at the moment. Did I even have the strength to shadow-travel to my room to get my ambrosia? Did I want to try? Coach wasn't around if I pushed myself too far again. But I was in pain- Gods, it hurt, not matter how many times I got injured, it never stopped hurting- and my head was fuzzy and I knew I had what could help me right Gods-damned there.

"Get off of me, Dick!" I struggled against him and almost managed to wriggle free when another pair of hands joined Dick's in holding me down and more faces appeared in my vision. I started to panic. Why were they holding me down? What was going on? I thought they wanted to help, but they weren't. I couldn't focus on the faces hovering above me. "Let go of me!" My breathing sped up, already too shallow to be good but now coming in heaving gasps as I thrashed harder.

-

Dick looked down at Nico, heart breaking as his younger brother tried his best to escape their hold. It was taking Dick and Tim both hands to keep him on the bed while Alfred prepared a syringe of sedative. Nico was shouting slurred words in a language Dick didn't know. Blood oozed from three deep slashes across his chest and a rip on his leg. It poured from his shoulder in rivulets staining the bedsheets deeply crimson. Nico's normally gold-tinted skin was ashen and pale. His eyes were unfocused and panicky, trailing unseen horrors across the room, occasionally fixing on Dick or Tim as they tried to calm him down, but never with enough clarity to understand they were only trying to help him.

Alfred crept closer with his syringe. "Try your best to hold his arm still, master Tim. I don't want to stick you by accident."

Tim grumbled something under his breath that Dick didn't catch but managed to hold Nico's arm still enough that Alfred was able to deposit the drug into Nico's system without any accidental 'sticking'. Slowly, Nico settled, limbs slackening and breathing evening out as his eyes slipped shut, and Dick let go, wincing at the soon-to-bruise marks he had left on his brother's too-pale skin.

Tim left without another word, only hesitating to throw an unreadable glance at Nico's sleeping form before pushing past Damian at the door to the medbay and out into the cave beyond. Dick hovered. He felt guilty about how he'd yelled at Nico. Was their argument part of the reason why he'd left? Was this mess partially Dick's fault?

"Master Dick, if you wish to stay, you may assist me, otherwise I will regrettably have to ask you to leave."

"Oh, I don't know much about this kind of first-aid-y stuff." Dick was panicking a little, truth be told. He didn't want to leave Nico alone, but he didn't want to get in Alfred's way and complicate things more.

"I'll stay," Damian said, stepping up beside Dick. "I can help Alfred, and I'll keep an eye on him. I'm much more proficient at handling this type of situation than you, it would seem." Dick knew that was true, to some degree. Having been raised by Talia Al Ghul, Damian was trained in field medicine and probably real medicine too. But he had to be hurting somewhere, seeing Nico like this. It wasn't in any of their nature to be unaffected by the sight of one of their own- however new to the family- sedated and bleeding out on a hospital bed. But Damian had the ability to regulate his emotions like no one else Dick knew, and he would be the most capable of keeping a steady hand and level head that Alfred needed, so Dick nodded and retreated outside the medbay.

Jason had pulled Bruce aside to talk privately and the two hadn't yet returned. Tim was nowhere to be seen, so Dick sank down to the ground outside the door, pulling his knees up and hiding his face in them. God, what were they going to do with Nico?

If his social worker found out about this- as she inevitably would- Nico would be taken away from them. Maybe even Tim and Damian, too, if she thought they were in any danger. (Dick was legal age and Jason was technically dead). This family had already had to suffer the loss of one of its members, Dick didn't think any of them could survive losing three. He didn't even want to think about the possibility.

And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was on its way, and Nico had been the inevitable catalyst, that this was just the start of a long chain of tragic events. 

Hmm. pretty angsty, but im not complaining.  

aside: if you like batfam books, or follow my Broken Heroes book, stay tuned for the reboot! It promises murder, angst, gayness, retribution and some of my much-loved ocs!