Dick was hypoglycemic. Many expected Wally to be the one with it, because of his speed, but no. It was one of the two reasons he carried food on him at all times. Wally did his best to make sure Dick was eating all the meals he needed, but there were days he missed it. It wasn't his fault Dick was a bat.
That night, Bruce had joined the couple for patrol. He was chasing down Penguin, who had gone to Blüdhaven. Wally was searching from the edge and working his way in, while Dick and Bruce were working their way out.
Dick leapt onto another rooftop when the lightheadedness hit him. He knew he shouldn't have skipped dinner, but he was behind on files, and he needed the extra time. Besides, Wally had been gone for a bit, and he could use the excuse that he ate. He staggered to the air conditioning unit, leaning heavily on it. "Nightwing, are you alright?" Bruce asked, putting a hand on Dick's arm.
"Lightheaded. Really lightheaded." Dick groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could see black dots on the edge of his vision. Bruce sat him down, pricking his finger. Dick knew Bruce would find low blood sugar amounts, and would probably force him to sit out.
"Sixty two. You're way too low. Do you have any food?" Bruce cursed under his breath. Dick nodded, reaching for his belt. The world seemed to be spinning, and the black dots seemed to be progressing. He really was low.
Dick cursed as he opened the pouch. "What?" "Empty. I must've forgotten to restock after last night." Dick leaned his head back, taking in a shaky breath. He felt like he could pass out at any second.
Dick heard a wrapper crinkle, then something placed in his hand. He looked down to see a small candy bar, and he knew Bruce must have been carrying it. "You forced a habit into me that's saved you and Tim a few times. Eat that, then sit for a few minutes. Wally will continue making his way to us." Bruce said, standing up.
Dick barely managed to open the bar, hands shaking too much. He could practically feel his blood sugar lowering. He almost didn't have the energy to eat the bar. Wally was going to kill him when he found out.
Dick somehow managed to finish the bar, putting the wrapper in his belt to throw away later. He closed his eyes, needing a quick break. A few minutes, then he'd find Batman and join him. If he absolutely had to get off the mission, he'd go on patrol like normal.
Footsteps approached him. Dick's eyes snapped open as he realized he recognized the walk. That wasn't Bruce, nor was it Wally. That was the very man Bruce had come for. That was Penguin.
Dick leapt up, almost regretting the action. The black dots reappeared, but Dick had bigger problems to worry about. Penguin was there, with his umbrella, and Dick was weakened. He quickly sent a ping to Batman, hoping the man got there soon.
"Well, from one bird to another, I must say this is a nice rooftop you chose. Excellent view, high enough that if you fell you'd never survive. Very pleasant, if I do say so myself." Penguin smiled. "What do you want, Penguin?" Dick snapped, his vision was starting to clear a little.
"Why, I just want to talk! Besides, it's not like you have much of a choice." Penguin grinned wickedly. Two other figures dropped, one a sickly pale, the other half and half. Joker and Two-face.
Dick had two options: he could give himself up, and risk torture, or he could jump and try to escape. The second sounded more appealing. "Well, I'm not really in a talking mood. I'll catch you next time I visit Gotham." Dick smirked as he flipped off, ignoring the spinning in his brain.
Dick swung through the streets, getting as far away from the trio as possible. His body kept telling him to stop, to slow down and take a break, but he couldn't. Dick didn't stop until he practically collapsed, laying down.
