Dick Grayson one shots

The forgotten hero p2

Whumptober day 10: blow to the head

Se_psy_s_laskou & linnie-colt this one's for you

Dick tipped backwards, panic flashing across his face as he realized there wasn't anything beneath his feet anymore. The feeling of floating that comes before a fall surrounded him for a brief moment, and then he was falling.

His parent's death came to mind, a stinging sharpness to the memory as if he hadn't revisited it in a long while. The irony struck him. He'd die in the same way his parents had. Would it hurt? He wondered. Would his agony be prolonged or would his death be instantaneous?

Pain exploded in his legs, burning up his every nerve as he slammed into the ground. His vision flashed black for a moment as the side of his head collided with the ground.

He could hear voices above him. They sounded like they were yelling, but he couldn't manage to string the sounds into coherent words.

M'gann floated down to where he lay, sinking to her knees by his side. Her eyes were wide as she took in the sight of Dick's crumpled body, her hand reaching out to try and help almost of its own accord.

"Don't touch him," Bruce barked as he landed nearby. "He might have sustained damage to his spinal cord. Moving him could paralyze him."

Dick's eyes began to drop closed, the world around him spinning.

"Hey! Dick, you need to stay awake," Bruce called in his best approximation of Dick's native language.

Dick opened his eyes, turning his head slightly to see Bruce better. "Have a... weird accident," he mumbled, his words slurring together.

"You need to fix his mind," Bruce declared, turning to glare at M'gann.

M'gann sat almost as if in a trance for a moment before the fog in her eyes cleared. "Right... uh... yeah," she replied, her eyes beginning to glow green.

—

Dick awoke to a world that was entirely too bright. He groaned, closing his eyes against the light.

"Dick?" Bruce's voice called.

Rather than opening his eyes, Dick turned away from his father figure... as much as he could with a neck brace on.

"Can you hear me?" Bruce asked softly.

Dick opened his eyes, squinting as he looked over at Bruce.

Bruce looked uncharacteristically relieved, his shoulders slumping with the breath he exhaled. "We... we weren't sure if you'd wake up," he said.

Dick shifted his gaze away from Bruce, choosing instead to try and catalogue his injuries. He only got as far as the ones he could see as his mind seemed to be running at half speed if that.

Pieces of metal encircled both of his legs, attached through his skin to the bone fragments that had been created by his fall.

It took a moment for his mind to catch up with itself, the memories and emotions swirling through his mind. Panic hit him like a ton of bricks, the need to leave, to escape.

He shot up in the bed, overwhelming pain pounding suddenly in his head as he tried to scoot away from the man who'd forced M'gann to tamper with his mind.

Black spots filled his vision an unnatural tiredness overwhelming him.

He opened his eyes after what seemed to him to only be a second, but was evidentially longer if the panic that shown in Bruce's eyes was anything to go by.

The hand that had been shaking his shoulder was now cupping his cheek. Dick wanted to push Bruce's hand away, to jump up and escape out the nearest window. He found, however, that his body wouldn't cooperate with what he wanted it to do. "D-n't touch m-e," he mumbled, his words once again slurring themselves together.

He was lying at a very awkward angle he realized, his head propped up by one of the bedposts, one arm hanging off the bed.

Had he passed out?

He rubbed at his ear, his hand coming away with some strange watery fluid on it. The same fluid, he realized, was starting to drip from his nose, gradually becoming tinged with red. His head exploded with pain, the intensity of it causing the return of the black spots to his vision.

Bruce was trying to say something, but it sounded almost like he was under water.

Dick curled in on himself, heaving up the contents of his stomach onto the floor next to him.

Everything around him was blurred, blood dripping from his ear and his nose.

Bruce shined a pen light into Dick's eyes, getting almost uncomfortably close to the acrobat. Still, to Dick, Bruce's form was nothing more than a blob.

Confusion fogged Dick's mind. "—n't think... straight," he mumbled.

Bruce sucked in a breath when he saw the bruising behind Dick's ear. "Alfred!" He called, stepping to the door of Dick's room. "Alfred I need you to prep a car! Please..." he had no idea if the butler had heard him or not.

Dick heaved again, expelling bloody bile onto himself, blood still pouring from his nose.

"Hey bud?" Bruce called, grabbing one of Dick's hands in his own. "Can you hear me?" He asked.

Dick gave no response, his eyes squeezed shut from the pain pounding in his skull.

Bruce wrapped an arm around his son, supporting his weight as he lifted and carried him out of the room, trying to avoid the awkward external braces that lined his legs.

Dick desperately grasped onto Bruce's shirt, clinging on as the blurred world rushed by him. Each jostling step Bruce took added to his pain until he could no longer hold onto consciousness, and his world faded to black.

—

Bruce resisted the urge to pace as he waited for some news from the operating room. In addition to the damage done to his legs, Dick had suffered a basilar fraction of his skull which led to a brain bleed.

Damian, Tim, and Jason were sat nearby. They each fidgeted with something in their hands, trying to distract themselves no doubt.

A woman in scrubs walked down the hall toward them. "Surgery went well," she said. "It seems we caught the brain bleed just in time."

Bruce let out a shaky breath. "He'll be okay then?" He asked, tone pleading for a positive answer.

The woman nodded before turning and heading back the way she'd came.

Bruce rested his face in his hands, tears of relief pricking the corners of his eyes.

He'd have second chance at making things right with his son.