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“Oracle to all points- Nightwing is down. Repeat, Nightwing is down.”
Robin stopped in a puddle as Batman barked out, “Location.”
“He is on the Upper East Side on the cross of Dillon and Verne Ave,” she informed.
Robin does a quick calculation and hopped on his Robincycle, “I’m in Coventry. ETA one minute.”
“How can you reach N that—”
Batman cut Red Robin off, “I’m spending the Batmoblie to N’s location. Head straight to the Cave. I’ll meet you there.”
Robin broke all speed limits and drove on the sidewalk, but he reached Nightwing in a minute. When he reached the older vigilante’s side, he took in everything he could- blood pooled from the bullet wound in his arm, but that could not be the reason he fell unconscious, then Robin looked up and saw the snapped grappling line. When the Batmoblie parked in front of the two vigilantes, Robin got out a board the could extend and carefully, but quickly, placed Nightwing on top and tied him to the board. Then he placed the wounded in the Batmoblie (by a lot of dragging and grunting) and raced to the Cave, “R to Cave, N was shot in the arm and fell from a third story building. I could not anything else that resulted in trauma; however, he has not regained consciousness since I have arrived on the scene.”
Alfred’s voice came through the speakers, “When you get here, we will do a more through search, but I have the necessary supplies out right now.”
When Robin pulled into the Cave, Alfred and Bruce stood near the entrance and rushed to take Nightwing out of the car before Robin put it in park. By the time Robin stepped out of the vehicle, Dick’s mask was removed, along with the rest of his uniform, and laid on the medical bed.
“Master Bruce, I assure you that I can handle this part of Master Dick’s care. Perhaps you should focus on how the grapple was cut in the first place?” Alfred pointed out and gave a small shove towards the Batcomputer. Bruce nodded then proceeded to walk to the station, Damian walked carefully toward Dick’s bed, but stopped at the doorway. “Master Damian, anything I could do for you?”
“No, Pennyworth. I- I just—"
The noise of Red Robin as he rode into the cave in the Red Bird, and jumped out, walked to the Batcomputer interrupted Damian. Then Damian overheard his father and brother, “That was the Mad Hatter’s territory, but he is in Arkham, and I don’t know who took it over for now,” Bruce thought out loud.
Tim continued off for Bruce, “What about Poison Ivy? The park is nearby and there was a few break-ins to garden stores over the past few days.”
Damian had not spoken his theory, but he had a couple of ideas of who tried to get Dick. A few very good and credible theories about the perpetrator. So, he snuck out of the cave, called his cycle to his location after he exited the cave, and no one was the wiser.
Dick woke up with his head pounding, weight and warmth on his chest and hand, looking down he saw Tim’s black hair and Bruce slumped over the side, hand clasped in Dick’s. “Wha—” Dick trys to speak but then he begins to cough, waking up Tim and Bruce.
“Dick!” Tim cries happily, as Bruce brings a cup of water to his mouth with a straw. Dick takes a few sips then hugs the younger man to his chest, reveling in the comfort.
Suddenly Dick remembers why he was at the cave and questions, “Did you get Deathshot?”
Bruce face pales and runs over to the computer and Tim turns to Dick, face pale as well, “Deathshot? Why was he trying to kill you?”
Dick sighed and explains, “I unknowingly stopped his next big payday when I told Bludhaven’s mayor that she needed to reschedule her afternoon press release. I did not know it was him, but no one could really cut through my line without extensive experience. Plus, I remember Damian saying something about him being sprung from wherever he used to be.” That causes Dick to look around, “Speaking of Damian, where is he?”
Bruce spoke up, “I haven’t seen him since he brought you here last night. I guess he is in his room, it is five-thirty in the morning.”
Dick tries to sit up before Tim makes him la back down, “Damian is usually down here, at this point. Can someone check on him, please? It couldn’t have been nice for him to see—"
Abruptly Alfred rushes down that stairs, “Master Bruce, Master Damian is not on the grounds. I have searched the rooms, his normal stomping grounds, even the old wing, and there has been no sign of the young master anywhere.”
At the news, Dick, Bruce, and Tim pale, they saved one bird, only to lose another?
Bruce brings up security footage from the Cave last night, he takes note of Damian’s actions and expressions, then forms his hypothesis, “He knew who hurt Dick last night.”
Tim runs to the computer, “What? How? Why didn’t he tell us?”
Dick sits up slowly and slips off the bed, then gingerly begins to walk around. “He probably felt he could do this on his own. Maybe to prove himself to Bruce,” Dick thought out loud, testing out his coordination. After a few more self-posed tests, Dick begins his way to the lockers and throws over his shoulder, “Are we going to get Little D, or stand here and watch me all day?”
Bruce follows Dick into the lockers and protests, “Dick, you just sustained a level three concussion! You can’t—"
Dick slams his hand into his locker and yells, “He is my Robin, so I will be coming! Nothing you do will stop me! Damian went after Deadshot for me; so, I will be going after him, Bruce!” By then end of his small rant, Dick had gotten his suit on, still needing his boots, belt, mask, and gloves and Bruce was in similar attire.
“He is my son, Dick. I want to save him too, but I am not risking you—”
“Well, looks like you are in luck, because you aren’t risking me. I am.”
That was when Bruce understood what fighting with Batman was like.
When the oldest vigilantes reach an abandoned warehouse in the continuous pouring rain, and see what looks like fresh blood and broken crates leading around the corner into an alley, they glance at each other nervously. Soon they hear a loud gunshot, grunt, and finally silence. Nightwing does not hesitate to run to his Robin’s aid, escrima sticks poised to strike, and Batman silently follows after his oldest, hands grasping his batrangs. Nearly running into Nightwing, Batman stops abruptly and was about to give Nightwing a look when he saw what made the stop.
Robin was drenched in rainwater, holding a dismantled gun and standing on an equally drenched Deathshot’s neck, breathing heavily. Not noticing his audience, Robin leaned down, water falling off of him and on the older man, and spoke threateningly, “You will leave my family alone, or you will have forced my hand. I know everything about you, including your daughter, so if you hurt my family, I could hurt yours, understand?”
Deadshot’s eye widens as he nods, then Robin gets off and said, “Good, now go see your daughter, I hear there is cold front coming in,” causing Deadshot to book it for the hills.
Once Deadshot was out of earshot, Robin slumps, leaning on a nearby crate, letting out a few curses. Nightwing shot over to the injured bird, “Robin!” he cried, kneeling in a puddle, checking over the teen’s ribs, “What were you thinking? Are you hurt?”
Robin just looks down at the older man, “I believe my ribs are heavily bruised, a few cuts, and I got shot in my thigh, but nowhere near an artery. So, I believe my mission was a success.”
Nightwing wraps his arms around the smaller vigilante, picks him up, cuddles him close, and kisses his head as tears leak out of his eyes, mixing with the rain.
“Don’t you dare do that again.”
“I will do it again, if it means you are safe, Nightwing. Without you, this city would be pointless.”