A Future Sooner than Tomorrow

A Taste of the Past

Flash watches the other group's retreating backs until they're entirely out of sight. He sighs.

Shayera looks at him curiously. "You're awfully upset considering we pretty much have our ticket back home within our grasp. What's wrong?"

"Nothing went to plan at all," Flash manages to drag his legs up to his chest. Kid Flash whines and buries his tear stained face further into Flash's shoulder. "We had one hard rule, one! All we had to do was stick together and somehow, we failed at that!" Flash uses one hand to gesture wildly, the other hugging his knees.

"We couldn't have known," Shayera rests her head against the side of the desk. "How were we meant to know that Luthor was expecting us?"

Shuffling to Flash's right. Shayera leans forward slightly and sees Nightwing half slumped into Robin's side. His head on Robin's, shoulder jammed between Robin's back and the desk and his free hand clasping Robin's.

They're whispering about something.

"Care to share with the class?" Shayera puts her elbow up on the desk, rising to her knees to better see the two. They turn to her in unison.

"We're not sure whether we should. We all got caught up in the chaos of the fight and with Nightwing's blood loss..." Robin's grip tightens around Nightwing's hand. "We're worried is all."

"Then wouldn't it be better to tell us? Five sets of eyes are better than two, right?" She drums her fingers against the table impatiently.

Nightwing and Robin share an indecipherable look before Nightwing asks, "who did you see during the fight?"

"Everyone and a lot of guards," Shayera automatically answers. "Why? Did you recognise one of them?"

Robin appears to relax, grip loosening and shoulders drooping. "That's fine then. I must have been mistaken."

"We should start patching everyone up," Robin unclips his cape and passes it to Nightwing. As he passes it to his injured brother, he lowly says, "apply pressure to the wound."

Nightwing scoffs. "For fifteen minutes, I know. I've been doing this for longer than you have, I know how to handle a stab wound." His voice is fainter than Shayera would like to hear but she guesses that him talking intelligibly is a good sign, or at least a neutral one.

Clutching the cape in a tight fist, Nightwing presses the material to behind his knee. He hisses in pain but still smiles at Robin.

"Just making sure you're not too out of it," Robin says cheekily. Then he pulls out a roll of bandages from one of his utility belt's many pouches and holds it out to Shayera.

Shayera takes the roll and looks between their three injured teammates. "How are we doing this?"

"Triage," Robin says. "High risk injuries first. Lower risk injuries after. Since there's three of them, we can do either two at a time or work on one together."

"I'll do one and you do one," Shayera looks between the two burnt Flashes and the bleeding Nightwing. "Who should we handle first?"

"Burn victims first," Robin rolls his shoulders. "We don't want them going into shock," he kneels in front of Kid, non-verbally leaving Flash to Shayera.

She isn't sure whether it's a matter of him handling his and her handling hers or whether there's an actual reason. Ultimately, she decides it isn't important enough to ask and sits beside Flash.

Looking at his burnt legs, she finds herself lost at where to start. "I've never had to take care of burns before," she admits.

Robin looks at her, opaque lenses revealing nothing, and says, "that's... not ideal." He fiddles with utility belt. "You should tell your Batman to do first-aid training when you all get home."