Memorium~Nightwing

Rescue

Bruce punched the gang member in the face, his nose breaking beneath his knuckles. He shoved him into a stack of the other Los Lloras thugs.

He spun, his cape spinning out from behind him. The boy was crumpled in a pile against the wall.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" His voice changer rasped.

He kneeled next to the boy and his blood ran cold. There was a twisted piece of metal protruding from the teenagers stomach, blood splattered across his pale face and blue lips. Bruce tugged his glove off and pressed it to his throat, desperately searching for a pulse.

There it was. No more than a weak flutter, but he was alive for now.

He lifted and dragged him, trying to avoid his injuries. As he briskly stalked to where he had hidden the Batmobile, he assesed the child. His jaw was fractured, shoulder dislocated, ribs broken, ankle sprained, and of course the rebar.

He laid the boy on the backseat of the Batmoblie, then jumping to the front seat. "Alfred. I just left the scene of the Los Lloras hit. The victim is with me and is being transported to Gotham Memorial; I need you to monitor his information on my computer."

Without waiting for an answer, the Batmobile careened into emergency entrance of the hospital. He picked up the boy from the back, shivering as his pale fingers reflexively curled around the edge of his cape.

The doors slammed open, and Batman stormed in, a blazing shadow of anger at the party responsible. "I need a gurney and nurse! Hurry!" He roared.

The Emergency Bay erupted in chaos as doctors and nurses alike scurried around the towering vigilante.

"Put him here." A brunette nurse ordered, her face stern. He sent her a withering glance as he placed the fragile boy onto the crisp cotton.

She refused to wither. "You'll need to leave him, unless you have a PHD no one knows about." She snapped. Bruce looked down and realized that insinctivly he had grabbed bold of the boys wrist, refusing to release him.

He withdrew his hand and pulled it behind him. "Victim of Los Lloras gang. Inform the Commissioner." He turned on his heel and bolted out of the hospital.

"Wait!" Someone called after him. He glanced back to see a orderly racing after him.

"What?"

"The kid jus' went in and is my job to run prints an' figure out the identity of the vic, you know,"

Bruce growled.

"Well he's a young kid named Richard and there's a detective over at the station who cares 'bout him. Woman named Emily Walker."

"Richard?" His voice was husky. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, guys parents were in the circus and they got 'is fingerprints done in case something happened."

"Yeah I'll...." His voice faded as he leapt back into the Batmobile. He had to find Emily Walker.

>>----- >

"Yes? Who's there?" A small voice asked from the other side of the thick door.

"Emily, its Batman." He told her, his voice deep and throaty.

"Batman?" She opened the door, holding the hand of a six year old boy. He looked up him with big wide eyes.

"Emily, Richard Grayson is alive." He stated bluntly.

She gave a small little gasp of shock, her eyes sparking with life.

"He's in the hospital though, and its looking steep. If you want to see him, you'd better hurry."

The boy was ten, but she carried him anyways. He shook as tears poured from his eyes.

"Easy there, shhh..." She rocked him back and forth. The other officers moved out of her ways as she walked towards the cruiser outside the circus tent. He was covered in blood, it was in his hair, under his fingernails. It smeared across her blouse, but she didn't care.

"Shhhh..." She soothed Dick, stroking his back. He was small for his age, but strong. He would endure. "Its okay, I'll take care of you."

"Dick? He's alive?"