Dick Grayson one shots

The absolute joys of having sketchy family

I literally had a dream that someone requested this... so yeah. If anyone wants to claim that

"Master Bruce. I do believe you've been sent on a wild goose chase of sorts," Alfred spoke through the communication device in Bruce's ear.

"Tell that to these wild geese," Bruce grunted, dodging a punch aimed at his head.

There was a moment of silence that practically screamed Alfred's disapproval. "Your city is in turmoil, 3 of your children are in the hospital, and the fourth is going to get himself killed trying to fix the mess you left him. So I'd suggest you get your self righteous rear-end back to this city and fix things," the butler replied sharply.

"Wait what?" Bruce asked, pressing a finger to the device in his ear.

"Gotham city Hospital room 429. They were kind enough to room all three of them together. Come as Batman not Bruce Wayne," Alfred said, ending the transmission.

Bruce huffed, roundhouse kicking an attacker in the head. He didn't pull punches as he took down the rest of the faceless assassins, not bothering to so much as tie them up or report them to the police before he was running.

—

Bruce slipped through the door into room 429. It was one of the private rooms he'd had updated for vigilante occupants.

Tim was in the bed closest to the door, an oxygen mask strapped over his mouth, bandages circling his chest.

Damian was on a bed next to him, a ventilator pumping air into and out of his body.

Jason was in the furthest bed, the only one of the three who was awake. He had a domino mask covering his eyes, what looked like road rash covering just over half of what was visible of his body, one leg wrapped in a cast.

"Sup," the antihero greeted, his furrowed brows and tense shoulders a contrast to the lightness of the greeting.

"Hood," Bruce greeted, careful not to slip up and use his son's civilian name.

"Tell me you've found Nightwing," Jason said, brow creasing with worry, the pleading edge in his voice undeniable.

Bruce blinked. Three of his kids in the hospital... the fourth trying to handle everything on his own... a pit of anxiety grew in his chest as his mind caught up to itself. "I... I came straight here," he mumbled.

Jason paled a shade. "You have to find him," he insisted.

"What do you mean find him? Alfred said he's trying to fix things in the city. I'm sure he's around here somewhere," he said, trying to calm Jason before his heart-rate rose too much.

"No B, he hasn't been seen in days," Jason snapped. "He brought the three of us here... but they... they were trying to take him."

"Who's they?" Bruce asked.

Jason opened his mouth as if to answer, but closed it when a nurse came into the room to check on the three vigilantes.

"Find him," Jason said, relaxing back into his pillows and letting his eyes slip shut.

—

Dick's eyes shot open, his heart racing, breaths coming in gasps... he was running... he'd been running... why was he lying down?

He shifted, rocks and dirt digging into the back of his head. Fatigue weighed his limbs down, making it hard to keep his eyes open and harder still to gather the will to stand.

Black spots danced in his vision when he finally managed to roll over. "N-not helpful body," he mumbled, resting his head on his hands.

He could feel the familiar padding of his Nightwing suit, and the buildings that made up the alley he was currently lying in looked vaguely familiar. Must be in Gotham, he decided.