Nightwing - One Shots

~Injured Bird -Part 2-~

It felt like a second, maybe two, before his eyes slowly opened. But they felt like weights, heavy weights weighing his eyes to lower until they were fully closed again. He screwed his eyes shut and laid as still as he could muster.

Then he heard something- someone.

"Ha - ha - ha!" It seemed far away and not very important, and he wanted nothing more than to slip further down into nothingness, but then he heard someone else.

"Yeah! Go Batm-" Nightwing didn't hear the end of that sentence as his consciousness left him again.

The next time he awoke was with a sudden gasp of pain and his head tried to move up. He tried moving his limbs, but soon realized that he was still trapped under vines and leaves.

Slowly, he looked over at the swift movement to his left.

How long has this been going on? He questioned himself, a loss of time enveloping him. Confused, Dick ventured his eyes further and looked to his right.

"Con...nor." He whispered out, soon realizing his voice was hoarse and his throat was sore and dry.

Superboy (AKA Connor) was laying unmoving on the floor. He was unconscious, Nightwing soon realized.

Finally, Dick looked down and blinked, eyeing blearily at the pool of blood gathering around his left leg.

A sound in front of him snapped him out of his blurry thoughts and he dragged his head up to see Bruce tying Poison Ivy up.

When did that happen?

He soon realized he was sweating and he sucked in a painful breath, resting his strained neck against the floor.

After a second he heard footsteps and then Impulse yelled a 'whoop' as if he had won.

"Yeah! Run away, and don't come back!" Impulse shouted with a tone telling whoever he was talking to that he meant it.

Then Nightwing heard more, different, light footsteps rush over to him.

"Damn it." He heard Bruce whisper, barely hanging onto consciousness again.

"Too much blood!" Impulse blurted out as if he was watching a horror movie.

"If you can't handle it, then go help Superboy!" Batman snapped, gesturing to the limp boy to the right of Nightwing.

"Alright, hey!" Bruce whispered softly after Impulse had sped off to help the other teammate.

"Stay awake kiddo." He whispered, reaching over the vines to check the boy's pulse. Letting out a relieved breath, he sat back and took out a pocket-knife from one of his pouches on his belt.

Nightwing sucked in another pained breath, like a wheezy gasp, when Bruce gently cut off the vine from around his throat. He wrapped a hand around Dick's head and held his head up with one hand while the other did the rest of the work. He slowly cut the rest of the vines and very carefully cut off the one beside the deep cut. It seemed like the vine was holding the cut in one exact position, so if he just so as jostled it, he could accidentally cause the cut to open further.

"A-ah."  Nightwing sucked in a sharp gasp when Batman wrapped a cloth to keep the cut from bleeding out any further.

"I'm sorry, come on." Bruce picked him up bridal style and made sure his head wasn't lolling back off of his upper arm, letting him lean forward and rest his head on Bruce's shoulder armor.

"You got him?" Batman asked cautiously, watching as Impulse who, by the way, was like a foot or two shorter than the hero he was trying to move.

"Yeah," the speedster paused, wrapping his arms around the older boy, "Let's go. Race ya!" And with that, Impulse was off, bolting out the door and gone in a tiny flash.