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It was supposed to be a simple mission. Recon. Would you believe Dick Grayson started out his night thinking he could actually handle an easy recon mission?
Yeah, he couldn’t believe it either.
He groaned, coming to on a damp floor. Night mode had activated automatically, and turning his head, he could see the insides of a cavern.
Something was pinning him to the spot. He shifted and was welcomed by the sound of pebbles pattering down rocks in return. A sharp pain ran up the length of his calf. He moved slowly, pleasantly surprised to find nothing else wrong.
What wasn’t fine, was whatever was pinning him was warm. Soft. Human… or well, too warm to be human, but warm enough to be…
“Tempest?” He panted, cautiously shifting his arms out further. Creeping further out, he dragged himself forward, pausing whenever too many pebbles began trickling down around him. “Tempest, report!” No response. “Aqualad… Garth?” He could feel his pulse speeding up, adrenaline and worry mixing to heighten his awareness.
Dust rained down from above as he dragged himself forward out of wreckage, the details of the mission coming back to him. Radio silence was to be maintained at all costs, the H.I.V.E. had caught on to the frequencies they’d been using. They’d been ambushed, caught off guard on the side of a cliff, nowhere to run.
Garth had been next to him, they’d been alone. H.I.V.E started shooting, rocks started pouring out of the sky, an explosion in the distance. The last thing he remembered was being tackled out of the path of an avalanche. “Oh… Garth.” He doubled his efforts to drag the two of them out of the rubble.
Avalanche. They weren’t safe here; the structure of the cave was possibly compromised. Silently, he thanked Bruce’s paranoia – he’d memorized the system instead of the map… which he lost… well… hopefully he still knew where they were.
Crawling out from under Garth was tricky, but manageable. Rising to his knees, he got his first good look at his unresponsive friend. Blood trickled out from a head wound, and the back of costume was torn to shreds.
It should have been me. He pushed the thought out of his mind, it didn’t matter, what mattered was getting Garth out of this; he needed medical attention. They weren’t scheduled to be back for another couple hours. He couldn’t expect help, he’d have to do this alone.
It was his fault – he’d proposed this mission. He thought they were safe - the only way this could have happened is if someone had betrayed them. Stupid. He’d had more than his fair share of traitors, had been a traitor too – ugh. He’d have to increase the monthly brainwashing screenings to biweekly, this was getting ridiculous.
And it was getting his friends killed. He dug his heels into the ground, centering himself in reality.
One last tug and Garth was free of the rubble, he dragged him back a few more steps for good measure. He bit his lip, more injuries becoming evident; Garth’s right leg had snapped below the calf. “Now would be a great time for you to wake up.” He muttered, pulling a small medical kit from his gauntlets. Field dressings would have to last till they reached the exit.
Starting with the headwound, he stemmed the bleeding best he could, taping on some gauze. He slipped a hand under the tattered remains Garth’s costume, feeling around for broken ribs and assessing scrapes as he went. He wrapped his ribs and prayed he hadn’t shifted him enough to puncture a lung. Moving on, he splinted Garth’s right leg with his escrima sticks.
He leaned rolled back off his knees to the balls of his feet. He’d done what he could… which was never enough.
Nothing he did was ever quite enough.
He quickly wrapped the gash on his calf, it stung but wouldn’t kill him - like staying in the cave would. Fortunately, if they were where he thought they were, he knew a path leading out to the extraction point, avalanche, hopefully notwithstanding.
A shiver ran up his spine, as he rose to his feet; the cave was damp and cool, the chill seeped in from rips in his costume. He hesitated, staying here wasn’t really an option – H.I.V.E. would come looking for them soon. But moving Garth like this could cause more harm than good.
One day without having to make impossible choices. Just one day would be nice.
As it was, he crouched down, sweeping Garth up in his arms, carefully trying to minimize the stress on his ribcage. Keeping his back straight, he slowly stood, and took a step towards the exit.
Garth’s head lolled against his chest, warm puffs of breath tickling his skin as he walked. He tried to look at the bright side, at least he wasn’t cold – Garth was like a little space heater in his arms. On the downside, he had a mile walk, followed by a hundred-foot climb to the exit. And five miles after that to reach help. No pressure.
Except for the crushing reality that he could be causing one of his best friends more internal bleeding. He did his best not to jostle him as he walked through the caves, watching his footing, and picking his steps carefully. It was an oddly familiar situation – if he squinted, he could pretend these were the tunnels under the manor, and he was twelve years old, carrying a practice dummy around as training.
This wasn’t training anymore, for better and for worse. His arms no longer burned with exertion after the first few minutes; now, he could keep this up for hours though, the stakes were higher. And so, he silently walked, twisting and turning through the tunnels, watching Garth carefully as he went, scanning for signs of distress.
Maybe it was a sign of how much time he spent in caves, but he was oddly comforted by the sounds of wings flapping in the distance. Bats.
Garth twitched, and Dick froze in his tracks. He was a notoriously light sleeper, a hangover from the days spent alone in the wilderness – it meant the difference between life or death.
“Garth?” His eyes shot open, and he squirmed, trying to break free of Dick’s grasp. “Calm down, it’s me, your safe. Garth please, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He tried to sound reassuring, as safe was probably an overstatement. Either way, the man slumped back into his arms.
“Sorry.” He croaked, and Dick’s heart sank.
“Sorry? Garth, I’m the one who should be sorry.” He ducked down, pressing a kiss to the top of Garth’s head, and picked up his pace once more. “I put together this mission based on information I collected. This is my fault.”
“Mm.” He groaned back, squeezing his eyes shut. Dick gritted his teeth.
“Do you need me to stop for a second?” Garth shook his head slightly. “Garth, what’s wrong?” His voice came out more panicked than he meant.
“You… really need to ask?” He wheezed.
“Humor me. How are you feeling?” Dick fought to keep his arms as still as possible, climbing up a few rocks as the elevation started changing.
“Not great.” Garth got out.
“Can you get your arm around my neck? That might help take some pressure off your ribs. Or I could try to-”
“Dick?” No names in the field, a voice eerily sounding like Bruce chanted in his head.
“Yeah?” He couldn’t quite tell through the night vision, but Garth seemed paler then normal.
“Please stop.” He fell silent, pressing the chin to the top of Garth’s head in acknowledgement, and rolling down to give him another quick kiss. He vowed again to fix this.
A few minutes later they reached the bottom of the entrance. Dick swallowed uneasily. He was going to have to climb using both hands, which meant moving Garth.
As he stopped, Garth opened his eyes. “Leave me.” He quietly suggested, staring up at the opening. Dick huffed.
“Over my dead body.” Which, if he slipped, that’s what it would be. He lost his grapples in the previous fight, and his climbing gear had to be left behind. Carefully, he laid Garth down on the cave floor. “I’m getting you out of here.” He tore the top half of his costume off.
“By stripping?” Garth flashed a pained smile. Dick rolled his eyes.
“I need my arms, you’re gonna have to ride on my back, and I don’t trust you to hang on.” This was going to be a pain in the ass. Or in Garth’s ribs. Likely both. He pulled out a wingding, and began fashioning a harness, with a little seat at the bottom.
It was funny, how he didn’t even need to take measurements. He memorized all the Titan’s dimensions years ago. He knew Garth’s girth like the back of his hand.
“Dick.” Garth hissed. “I’m slowing you down… Go get help and come back.” Dick ignored the protests as he pulled the strips around Garth’s chest. “They’ll catch us both.” He slid the makeshift seat under Garth’s legs, looping through to connect the bottom part of the harness.
“I’m not leaving you alone.” He promised, helping Garth sit up. He sat between Garth’s legs, physically strapping the two of them together. Try leaving now, Garth. “Tell me to stop if this is too much.” He raised Garth’s arms up, easing them around his shoulders, luckily not hearing Garth hiss in pain. “This is okay?” He asked, getting ready to attempt standing.
Garth rested his head against Dick’s. “I’m fine but… you should go.” Dick reached up, taking Garth’s hands in his own. He kissed each of them.
“I love you.” He wouldn’t let Garth go. Not after Joey. No more Titans would die on his watch. “You’re going to live.” He grabbed Garth’s thighs and braced himself.
A low whimper escaped Garth’s lips, barely audible, as Dick struggled to his feet, lifting all two hundred plus pounds of dead weight. He gritted his teeth as he made it halfway to standing, letting go of Garth’s left leg, he grabbed a rock on the wall, and pushed himself to his full height.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, right?” He panted, looking up at his daunting task. “Let me know if you need a break.” Reaching up, he found his first handhold. Then stepped up on a little ledge, letting go of Garth’s right leg slowly, making sure it didn’t brush the ground.
He stepped up and reached, pulling himself up a few inches higher. Took another step up. He kept his breathing deep and steady. He grunted, raising the two of them up again, reach, pull, step, repeat. “Don’t look down.” He warned, feeling Garth’s head turn.
It wasn’t long before his muscles started shaking with effort, his fingers burning. He was grateful to have his gloves.
They were maybe twenty feet off the floor. “Do you need a break?” Garth whispered.
“Nope.” He grunted. “You?”
“Nope.” Dick took a deep breath and pushed up a few more inches. He could feel sweat building on his forehead. Another few feet and it began trickling down. “I can do this.” He muttered, not sure if he was talking to Garth or himself.
“I love you too.” Garth whispered. “We all do... You don’t have to do this.” Dick snorted, reaching up for another hold. He concentrated on the rock wall. Yes. He did need to do this.
Ignoring his burning arms, he climbed on, scanning the rocks for handholds, listening for any sounds of intruders. Counting his breaths and sharpening his mind. Sweat poured down his face, dripping off his chin. He ignored the straps cutting into his shoulders, the unbearable weight hanging off his back.
He was halfway up when Garth nudged the side of his head. “I hear footsteps.” He warned.
“Well. Fuck.” He’d been pacing himself before – no longer an option. He allowed panic to wash over him, giving in to the adrenaline rush, praying it’d last to the top. He picked up his pace, scrambling up the side of the underground cliff.
At the seventy-foot mark, he heard the faint sounds of scouts making their way through the tunnels. He doubled his speed again. Garth squeezed him tight, and Dick thought of nothing but him – how he would die if he slowed down, how it was his fault Garth was even here, hurt and broken – he had to get him out. Stopping was not an option, ignoring everything else, he focused on the top of the cave.
He moved to step up, but his other foot slipped in his haste, leaving him hanging by his hands. Garth squeezed tighter. His arms screamed and his heart hammered in his throat. He scrambled for footing, only finding some higher than before.
He needed to pull himself up. But his arms had frozen up, pushed to their limits.
He couldn’t move. He was stuck.
He was stuck and Garth was going to die.
“Nightwing.” Garth whispered urgently. Panic ate through his chest. “Catch your breath.” He pleaded, Dick shook his head, adrenalin spiking.
“We’ve got to go.” He bit back, not caring to hide the fear in his voice. He grunted – muffling a scream and yanked himself up. His vision blacked out for a moment, and somehow, he made it to standing.
He continued in the adrenaline-fueled haze, blocking everything out but the wall in front of him. Before he knew it, his hands reached the top, and he pulled them the rest of the way up, crawling away from the edge, he was vaguely aware of his stomach flipping as he stood, and something coming up his throat.
The next few moments were a blur, and taking his first steps, he moved away from foul smelling stuff on the ground. Get Garth to safety, was the only thought on his mind as he briskly walked through the forest he’d emerged in. Continue north, keep moving – nothing else mattered.
He wasn’t sure how long it’d been when he finally realized Garth was saying something. “What?” He whispered, constantly turning his head, scanning for danger. He could see the extraction point in the distance.
“Are you okay?” Garth whispered. Dick took long strides, quickly closing the distance. He pulled a camouflaged sheet off their little plane. “Dick?”
Time seemed to slow down as the sheet drifted to the ground. Dick blinked a few times. What was he doing?
“Nightwing?” Ah yeah. Get Garth to safety.
“Tempest.” Opening the door, he slid Garth into the passenger’s seat, and slipped out of the straps. He ran to the other side, hoping into the pilot’s seat, and gunned the engine.
For some reason, his fingers refused to close around the controls. He glared at them, mind over matter – commanding them to close once more. They obeyed. Soon, they were in the air once more. His entire body shook, though he hardly understood why. Time seemed to speed up. He blinked and they were about to reach the Tower.
Shaking himself into the present, he landed the plane with a practiced ease, relying on muscle memory rather than his own confused mind. He was getting… so tired. Like he couldn’t move… His eyelids drooped… Garth said something next to him… Garth!
Eyes snapping open, he jumped out of the plane as it rolled to a stop. “HEY!” He screamed into the empty hanger. “GARTH NEEDS HELP!” He dragged himself to the intercom. The last thing he coherently remembered was hitting the panic button, his knees giving out, and sliding to the floor.
A flash of colors and sounds exploded around him, too much to comprehend.
The next time he opened his eyes, he was sitting on a couch, leaning against Roy. A half empty bottle of water sat in front of him. He felt like a pile of jello. “Wha?” He had a vague tingling he was supposed to be doing something.
“You back on planet earth?” Roy rumbled, grabbing the water and twisting off the cap.
“How’s Garth?” He realized, the words tumbling out of his mouth as fast as he could say them.
“He’ll be fine, drink this.” He held the bottle up to Dick’s lips. He tried to grab it himself, but his arm just limply twitched. Traitor. Either way, he chugged the cool liquid. When he finished, it finally dawned on him that someone had wrapped both his wrists.
“What happened?” He asked. “Where’s Garth? I’ve got to-” He tried to stand and succeeded in flopping his chest to his knees. “-Why can’t I move?”
“Because you decided to free climb 100ft. straight up with 200 pounds on your back. And then walk five miles without stopping.” Roy leaned forward and pulled Dick’s legs onto the other end of the couch. “And despite what you seem to believe, you’re a human so you probably tore like a bazillion muscles, not to mention, you were dehydrated as fuck.” He kicked his legs up on the coffee table, lifting Dick’s head into his lap.
“Where’s-”
“Oh, my god, bird brain. Garth is fine, he went into surgery half an hour ago to fix his ribs-” Dick bristled.
“That doesn’t sound fine to me.” He muttered. Guilt clawed its way into his chest. “I didn’t – shit. I shouldn’t have moved him, I should have-”
“Calm your tits! He’s sleeping in the recovery room, he got out five minutes ago.” Roy sighed. “Jeez, you did the best you could. Cut yourself some slack.” He reached over the edge of the couch and grabbed another water bottle. “And take a nap or I’ll waterboard you.” He threatened, waving the water above his head.
Dick blinked a few times, feeling exhaustion wear him down, his body sinking into the couch. He was going to be sore as fuck tomorrow – but that was tomorrow and now was now – and right now, he wanted to see Garth. He gazed into Roy’s eyes, relaxing his brow, and meticulously forming a slight pout. Roy crossed his arms, scrunching up his nose as he stared back. Dick wobbled his lower lip, opening his eyes wider. Roy sighed.
“Fine, I’ll wake you up when he wakes up. Are you happy?” He ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly, then grabbed a couch cushion. “Stop it, now I’m immune.” Dick squirmed as the pillow covered his face.
“Asshole.” He grumbled, though it came out more like “aff-ole”.
“Can’t hear you.”
“Fine, deal.” Light filled his vision again, as the pillow was slipped under his head. Roy pulled down a Hello Kitty blanket from the top of the couch. “You’re such a dad.”
“Call me daddy, and I will end you.” The tips of Roy’s ears turned red. Dick grinned but decided not to push it. Well, maybe not too much…
“Will you read me a bedtime story?”
“I’m leaving.” He spread the blanket out, tucking Dick in, no indication of getting up.
“Good night kisses?” The lights went out.
“Dick, I will kill you.” His eyes were already closed, and as the room fell silent, he found himself drifting into an uneasy sleep.
Just before he nodded off, Roy kissed the top of his head.
“Goodnight.”