Don't Fear the Reaper

85) Weeeeeiiirrrddddoooooo

A/N: pic is unrelated, I just thought it was funny

Nico sat stationary while Dr. Thompson stitched his arm back together. He'd told her that she could just cauterize it and call it a day, but she apparently found that 'inhumane' and 'an unacceptable treatment for such a wound that would border on torture'. He'd considered arguing with her over it, but he couldn't imagine that it would go his way.

"If you would like any anesthetic-"

"I'm fine," Nico said without hesitation. He'd gotten hundreds of injuries far worse than this and survived them all without any pain killers.

Consciously, he knew he was in pain, but his body didn't seem to understand that. He'd forced himself to suffer through far more painful things from far worse injuries and simply grit his teeth and bore it—so a few stitchers from a deeper than expected grazing was child's play.

"May I come in?" Bruce's voice called from the other side of the door.

The woman didn't respond, offering the decision to him without any sign of which she'd prefer.

"I'm shirtless," Nico called, honestly kinda panicking. He wasn't quite sure if he cared about Bruce coming in out not.

"Well, I've seen you shirtless before, but I can close my eyes if you'd like—I don't mind. Or I can come back later. It's up to you."

Nico looked at the door for a long moment, both having expected this and not expecting this at all. The Waynes almost always yielded to him, but something felt different. Bruce was more of a 'I will wait silently while you decide' type of person, so him listing options felt... strange.

"You can come in," Nico said hesitantly, watching the door carefully as the man slowly opened it and stepped in, closing it behind him with his eyes closed. The man stayed facing away from him, and Nico—despite knowing deep down that the man didn't mind—still felt kinda bad. "You can turn around. It's fine."

Bruce didn't turn around. "I'm fine as is. If you really want me to turn around, I will, but this is okay. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Nico studied Bruce curiously. The man looked surprisingly relaxed—like, he still seemed concerned about Nico's health—but it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I'm okay. It was just a graze."

"A deep graze," Dr. Thompson chimed in as she began wrapping his arm back up. "8 stitches and his wrappings will need to be changed every 6 hours to make sure there's no risk of infection. I gave him some antibiotics as an initially precaution, but you'll have to keep an eye out."

Bruce hummed in acknowledgment, still staring at the wall. "I'll let Alfred know—he's the one that has been primarily in charge of Nico's recovery each time he's been injured."

Leslie finished securing the wrapping before scanning the room. "His shirt was soaked through with blood and I'd rather he didn't put it back on. Do you have any spare clothing stashed in here, or can you send for someone to get something?"

"There's spare clothing in one of the drawers beneath the exam table."

Nico got off the table, opening and closing drawers in search, but after a minute or two, he just let out a breath and said, "Can you just turn around and show me where—I don't care if you see the scars."

Bruce seemed to hesitate for a moment before he turned around, very purposefully only meeting Nico's eyes for a moment before he went to a drawer and pulled out a shirt. It was a men's XXL (a size Nico was pretty sure no one in the house wore) but it was better than nothing, so he put it on.