DC One-Shots

#2

DISCLAIMER: Kiiki doest't own the DC Comics franchise, or the characters in this story. I only own the plot line.

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Dick groaned in pain. His wrists and ankles pinned to the table. 

Why did this happen? When did the world abandon him for hell. The boy gave a soft whimper in the pain in his back. His forehead and chin had been resting against the cold metal for so long; he wasn't sure if it was the metal warming from his touch or his skin that had gone numb. Probably the latter. He gave a soft sigh, it once again came out in a whimper. The boy tried to turn his head. He then remembered how his head was belted in place against the table head down. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel everything.

He could feel the touch of the scalpels, the blood running down the back of his already pale skin. He could hear them breaking his spine, somehow he wasn't dead. Dick wished for it. So much. Why wouldn't they just let him have the luxury of the afterlife? Even if there was no Heaven, no God, no Savior. He just wanted the pain to go away. 

The boy didn't know how long he'd been chained to that table. They'd stuck a tub down his throat and into his stomach so he wouldn't starve. He didn't know why they cared. He'd been in so much pain. His lungs would fill with painful air then deflate. He counted one after the other. He couldn't scream in pain. The tub keeping him silent and in pain. He thought there must have been something in his nostrils to keep him breathing. Or else he would have given up long ago. 

It seemed like weeks, months, maybe even years to the boy. They finally undid the straps. His body felt awkward. Without the metal over his wrists or the belt over his head. He felt naked. He loved the freedom. It scared him. 

The people- no monsters pulled him up by the wrists. Dick gave a squeak in pain and confusion and terror and pain. He had gotten so used to his body laying that way that everything felt unnatural. It hurt. His feet weren't used to all the blood going into them. Everything having been laid flat for months. 

Everything was a blur for the boy.

Somehow he ended up in a cage. His body naked and eyes wide in terror. Their blue shining in the dim light. He curled in on himself. Everything was in pain. His back was killing him and he felt needles running through every point of his spine. He kept rubbing at his wrists subconsciously. The back of his head in pain from the lack of support. He shifted slightly only to freeze. Something touched his back. He knew that much.

He felt his ears twitch at a small 'swoosh' sound. The quiet was killing him, mentally making him panic, the silent was violent. The noise happened again when he relaxed. His eyes widened again. He spun around quickly. Everything was in pain at the moment. There was nothing there. 

His skin started to scream from a new touch. It was light. Like a feather brushing against the skin. Was someone messing with him? Was there something- someone in his head?

The boy tried to turn around again. Once again nothing was there. 

Its official. Dick Grayson was crazy. He put his face into his knees again. He started to cry from the pain, the embarrassment, the loneliness. His sobs turned into quiet laughter while he laughed at his pain. Tears still cascaded. The boy glanced to the side, a small moment catching his eye in the darkness. The boy glanced toward it, eyes widening at the sight. He didn't move. He didn't dare breathe.

A large black mass was behind him. He only knew of its presence from the large black wing that came from behind. Dick moved silently as to not alert the creature of his acknowledgement of its whereabouts. He didn't let it out of his sight.