One Shots (Damian Wayne x reader)

Windshield

Damian's pov

I'm bleeding. I'm bleeding and it's bad.

Stumbling, I reached the edge of the roof. The rain is heavy on my shoulders. My breath is short, my vision blurry. I press a hand on the wound, biting back a grunt. Blood is gushing from between my fingers. That's not good.

I can't die like this. This is so stupid. I've gotten stabbed during patrol by some goons. He has not even been one of the most wanted villains of Gotham. In the corner of my eyes, I can see his body cuffed to a pipe, knocked out.

I try to clear my head, but the pain is not helping. My other hand is reaching for the emergency button that Bruce had insisted on installing on my belt. But of course there is a safety feature so I don't press it by accident. My fingers are slipping, lacking strength to take it off.

My blood is tainting the puddles at my feet. I press harder. The wave of pain goes through my whole body. I lean over the edge of the roof. The back alley below is not that far, I try to convince myself.

I grip the edge. Everything is spinning. Darkness is spreading from the corner of my eyes. I blink but it is only getting worse.

I feel my body slip and I can do nothing to stop the fall. I only see two lights getting closer and closer as the wind slaps my face.

Then nothing.

A scream.

Someone has just let out a scream. My eyes are closed but I know I'm still out there, wounded and bleeding. I've been out for only a few seconds or a few minutes. The rain is still hitting my face but I'm laying on a hard surface. My whole body is aching.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" The voice is getting closer.

I hear their steps and a second later a warm breath is brushing my face.

"Shit! This is bad. This is really bad!" The voice says, panicked.

I can only agree in my head, already ready to fall back into darkness.

I'm about to let go of the little consciousness I still hold when fingers touch my head, my mask. It's like an electric shock. Reflexes take over my body. It can not be taken off.

I catch the person's wrist.

They yelp. "Thank god you're not dead!" They shout as our eyes meet.

I let go of the woman's wrist and took the opportunity of the adrenaline coursing through my body to reach for the emergency button. This time I'm able to take the safety feature off and relief flood my brain as I press down the button. It is now a matter of minutes until one of the others on patrol tonight comes to get me.

I try to sit but she stops me.

"Don't, don't move. You're going to hurt yourself even more than you already are."

I grunt. She's not wrong. A spark of excruciating pain has just gone through my spine.

"I'm going to call an ambulance. Everything is going to be okay. You're going to be okay." she says, her voice wavering.

"No ambulance. No hospital." I interrupt her words. "My team is going to be here in a minute."

"But-"

"Do you know who I am?" I ask.

She nods. "The costume says it all," she mutters.

"No ambulance." I repeat.

"But you're bleeding out from a deep cut and you've just smashed yourself through the windshield of my car before rolling down the ground. You need care right now. And I have no medical background whatsoever. And you're dying right and I'm going to be the person who lets Robin bleed out on the street and..."