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As soon as they were on scene, Robin was already sprinting in the burning building like he was fireproof.
“Robin!” Someone roared after him. Not Bruce, Dick didn’t bother listening to them. He didn’t even bother trying to do more than process the important thing. There was a child, crying for their mother and holding a plush bunny covered in ash. There was someone still inside the building crying out for help. There weren’t enough firefighters who could run into the blaze.
So, it was him. Glancing around, Dick carved his eyes over the fallen debris inside the building. There was a creak, a groan, above his head. Grabbing his cloak, he raised his arm.
Pieces of roof smashed into the ground in front of him.
Flame licked at the air, embers and smoke dancing with each other as they wove towards the ceiling.
Shaking himself, Dick kept on moving.
He sprinted up the stairs, watching the fire-cracked wood for any warning signs. The first floor flashed by, the second, the third—
Floor four.
The kid’s apartment had to have been there, the poor thing kept pointing at the third to Dick’s left—he sprinted down the hall. Fire licked up the walls, red and orange tongues lashing across curling wallpaper. A piece of ceiling blocked the floor, the handle. Backing up, he felt his back heel slam into the door behind him.
Throwing himself forwards, Dick smashed into the wood.
The wood groaned, tilting inwards and breaking under the force of his shoulder. Embers showered down over him, sparking against his skin. Gritting his teeth, Dick shook himself, raising his head after a heartbeat.
His eyes fell on the kid’s mom almost instantly. Eyes wide and staring at him, she was trapped beneath a section of the ceiling that had crashed down on her. “Ma’am! On my way!” Quickly, he stepped towards her.
“Watch out! The floor!” She warned, reaching out a hand for him. Yanking back, Dick watched as the tiled kitchen floor crumbled and crashed to the floor below. Looking back at her, he glanced around the kitchen.
“Are the counters built into the walls?” He asked, turning back to her in time to see her nod. Crawling onto one of the ones that had yet to be reached by the fire, Dick leapt from that one to another much closer to her. He dropped to the floor, slipped closer while keeping his steps light and quick.
Lodging his shoulder under the ceiling, he hoisted it off her. She dragged herself out from beneath, turning to him. “How are we going to get out, Robin?”
Good question, eyes carving over the flame-ravaged apartment, Dick dismissed any attempt to get her out that way. Hurrying to the window, he pulled a window breaker from his belt and smashed the glass. Quickly, he set up a grappling hook system, helped her over to the window, and got her hooked up. “You’re going to use this to descend. I’ll be right after you, I promise. Don’t come inside for anything. Got it?”
She nodded, and he helped her out and started sending her down. Clinging to the rope, she glanced up at him once with a worried expression. He set the rope to work automatically with another gadget from his belt.
Turning, he paused.
Something’s wrong—he glanced up.
Spiderweb cracks spread across the ceiling above him.
+
He woke up in Bruce’s arms.
Coughing, Dick opened his eyes. The sun was shining somewhere beyond Bruce’s head. Even with the mask, Dick squinted up at him. “Hey.” His voice was much raspier than he expected. Wincing, he forced out, “Guess I…got a little overwhelmed.”
“Feeling the aster?” Bruce asked gruffly.
Snorting, Dick dropped his head back against the gurney pillows as he was laid against it. “Definitely feeling the dis.” There was a small scrunch in Bruce’s eyes, a lift at the corner of his lips. Nose wrinkling, Dick grinned back at him. Another cough wracked his shoulders. He was rolled into the ambulance. A second later, he found something being pressed to his face. Oxygen mask. Smart. He grabbed onto Bruce’s arm when the man tried to pull away. Their eyes met. Settling his other hand on Dick’s arm, Bruce sat down beside his gurney, rubbing a thumb across the back of his knuckle.
To anyone outside, Bruce looked stern. His face was flat, emotionless. Like he didn’t have any happiness in the world.
They spent the next several hours like that—Bruce sitting by Dick’s bed the entire time, watching over him with careful eyes. Thankfully, although there had been a good amount of chaos in the building, he hadn’t been too hurt. Some bruising, some smoke inhalation, the worst he had was a messed-up shoulder from where he had rammed it into the door. That was iced and bandaged up, and a few other minor burns were treating with some burn cream.
And now Bruce was seated beside him, one foot propped up on the other knee as he leaned towards Dick, watching him play Animal Crossing: Wild World on his DS. It was old, and one of the stickers was coming off, but he’d got it from his parents and carried it with him thus far.
The door was kicked in, and both of them glanced up.
Wally stood there, panting and green eyes wide. “Uh—hi—” He glanced back into the hallway, and Dick snorted. Saving his game, he closed it and handed it over to Bruce, who slid it into a very protected pocket on his suit. “How you doing, Rob? You alright?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.” Dick flashed a grin at him, “Worried that Bats was killing me?”
Setting a hand on his shoulder, Batman spoke, “I’ll be back with food. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” Dick nodded, and Batman left. Wally and Dick both watched him go.
As soon as the door was closed, Wally turned to Dick. “Rob! What the—” Closing his mouth, he growled and gestured, sinking down in the chair on the other side of the bed from Batman’s. When he held up his hands, his nails were biting into his palms. His arms were shaking—his whole body was shaking, really. Reaching out, careful not to disturb the wires he was attached to, Dick took Wally’s hands in his own. “You could have died! Are you—that was so dumb, Rob!”
“Have you eaten?”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“Have you eaten?” Dick said, looking up and meeting Wally’s gaze. A moment passed. A second. Neither of them spoke. Then, sighing, Wally sank back in his chair again. He pulled open the compartment on his wrist to grab a pack of trail mix. “I know it was dumb. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
“I know, and that’s what scares me,” Wally sighed, tossing a handful of peanuts and raisins and chocolate chips in his mouth with the grumpiest look possible. Shaking his head, he continued, “Just—can you take someone else into the fire with you next time?”
“Who would I have picked? Kaldur?”
“Me?” Wally prompted. “I could have rushed you in and out in a second. We could have—” Closing his eyes, he leaned into the chair arm and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t sit up and start chattering again. Headache, Dick figured. Turning, he picked up the water cup beside him and moved to hand—“Don’t offer me your water. I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking. Make sure you keep eating.” At that, Wally huffed. In the middle of a bite, he glanced after Bruce.
“So…what do you think of visiting my town next time we’re stuck on watch duty?”