Archive of Our Own

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“Hurry,” Dick said through gritted teeth. “I can feel it stirring.”

He did his best to choke down the cry that threatened to emerge as it twisted beneath his skin. He didn’t know what it was going through, what it was tearing up beneath his flesh, but he didn’t care because all he wanted was to get rid of it.

“Scalpel,” Bruce murmured softly. “Dick, we’re putting a local an—”

“Just do it,” Dick yelled. He didn’t care if it wasn’t numbed or not.

There was a pause, and then something cold spread over the surface of Dick’s skin, behind the right side of his ribcage. It was a familiar sensation, and Dick breathed methodically to prepare for when Bruce would begin cutting into him.

What he hadn’t prepared for was the creature inside him to begin thrashing, going absolute insane as the anaesthetic started seeping through Dick’s skin. Dick couldn’t stop the sharp gasp of pain, or even the louder cry, as it writhed inside him.

He could hear Jason and Bruce moving around frantically, trying to paralyse the creature once again, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the burning hot sensation stemming from each movement.

There was a noise, something that Dick distantly registered but wouldn’t be able to remember if he were asked about it, later. Then, another burning sensation, but this one was better than the thing inside him. Dick could deal with this new burning.

And then suddenly his head was clearer than it’d been in what felt like years, and he could finally think again. Dick blinked, feeling wet eyelashes moving against one another as he opened his eyes from their previously squeezed tight position. He shakily lifted a hand to his face, wiping away the moisture on his cheeks.

Had he been crying? God, he’d never live this down.

Dick must’ve said that aloud, because Jason cracked his first real smile of that night, and even Bruce’s tightly knit forehead smoothed out the tiniest little bit.

“Did you get it?” Dick said, voice hoarse and scratchy. It felt raw, like he’d been shouting, though he hoped not. He couldn’t even imagine how that might impact Jason, who was so young.

Bruce grimaced, all signs of levity gone once more. “Almost,” he said, in a voice that was probably meant to be reassuring, but all Dick could think about was that it could move again.

He couldn’t go through that again. He wouldn’t.

Dick shook his head frantically, hands scrabbling as he tried to scoot further towards the edge of the bed. “B, please,” he pleaded. “I can’t—you can’t let it wake back up again—it’s going to burrow through me, I can feel it—”

“Dick, Dick.” Bruce had his hands on Dick’s shoulders. “We’re just waiting for you to stop shaking so much. We can’t get it out if you can’t hold still.”

Dick let out an unsteady breath, words slowing down.

“Focus on my breathing,” Jason was saying. He had a hand on Dick’s arm; Dick twisted his hand around so he could hold Jason’s, so he had something to focus on. He watched Jason’s tiny fingers against his larger ones until his own stopped shaking quite as much. “Yeah, you’re doing great…”

Dick snorted. “Hey, I’m older than you,” he said, but his tone was light.

Jason scratched a finger down the centre of Dick’s palm, almost starting a thumb war between the two of them. It was a good distraction, almost making Dick forget the feeling of Bruce’s cool fingers as they held the skin at his back taut.

And then came the sensation of the scalpel slicing clean through his skin, and Dick hissed, his hand spasming against Jason’s. Jason gripped him tight, his other hand coming up to grab Dick’s from both sides.

“Breathe,” he said again, and Dick finally looked him in the eyes, nodding a little.

“Did you find it?” Dick asked, words coming out through gritted teeth. “B? Is it gone?”

Bruce grunted from behind him. “Almost,” he said, words murmured distractedly. “It’s…It’s longer than we thought. Longer than it looked. I think I can… fuck…”

“Bruce?” Dick made the mistake of trying to turn around, and felt the scalpel cut deeper into him than Bruce had probably intended, judging by further cursing and the hand against his back.

“Don’t move,” Bruce said. “It’s… I think it snapped in half. There’s a piece of it still in there.”

“Make another incision,” Dick said. He could feel his vision beginning to go in and out, his grip on Jason’s hand weakening. Jason tightened his own to make up for it. “I’s fine.”

“I’ll have to,” Bruce said. It was funny – Bruce rarely spoke so much during first aid; maybe this time was different? It was probably the first major patch up session Dick had had since he’d left. “It’s in too deep to get out through this one.”

Dick breathed out, trying to brace himself for the next cut. Even then, he bit into his lip when it came. One of Jason’s hands disappeared, but before Dick could miss it too much, there was something pressing against his mouth.

“Here,” Jason said quietly. “Bite down on this.”

Dick normally wouldn’t have accepted it. But he’d rather have that in his mouth than freak Jason out if he couldn’t hold back a scream. He unclenched his jaw, allowing Jason to slip in a piece of leather kept here specifically for this purpose.

Jason’s hand returned where it’d been, and Dick was relieved. He’d begun shivering again, but this time it was because of the cold in the Cave as well as all the rest.

And then Dick felt the strangest sensation, a lot like pulling out stitches, but worse. He let out a full body shudder, trying not to gag at the feeling, as something slithered out from inside his flesh. His stomach twisted every time he focused on it, so instead, he opened his eyes and stared down at Jason’s hands, at his stubby fingernails.

“B?” he said, voice a faint whisper. “B, what’s going on?”

“It’s out,” Bruce said. “I need to stitch you up. I’m going to try the anaes—”

“No!” The word burst out of Dick before he’d even consciously processed Bruce’s words, but he could remember how it’d felt to have it awaken at the administering of the anaesthetic before.

“Dick, we’ve got the defib ready in case something happens,” Bruce said. There was the sensation of cloth over the area; Bruce was trying to clean up the blood from the wound. “If there’s anything left inside, we need to know.”

Every part of Dick wanted to say ‘no’, but he couldn’t argue with Bruce’s logic. He nodded sharply, once, and tried not to grip Jason’s fingers too tightly as he drew in a shallow lungful of air in preparation.

There was a prick in his upper arm, and Dick’s breathing picked up in anticipation of the creature, his vision growing dark with the spots. But there was nothing. Only a faint stinging sensation from the antiseptic that Bruce was spreading, but then his fingers grew limp in their grip.

Distantly, he heard Bruce say, “Jay, hold him up, that’s it, lad…” but then he was out.