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The form was small on the ground and even as Batman swept towards it, he saw no movement at all.
It was a boy, his back towards Batman, and even without the all too familiar shock of black hair or the school uniform, Batman would have known exactly who it was.
Dropping to his knees beside his boy, Batman’s hand hovered a inch above his arm, too scared to touch him, too scared to feel the cold that came with death, the cold that he himself could still feel seeping through his mother’s clothing.
Dick was half curled, a single arm outstretched, his eyes closed as if sleeping.
The agony sank deep into Batman’s chest because he was too late, he had failed, again, just like how he had that night in the alleyway except this time he was not a boy who had been unable to protect his parents; he was a parent who had been unable to protect his boy.
Batman was gentle as he shifted Dick onto his back, so gentle, watching as the boy’s head tilted a little too much to the side.
He couldn’t keep his hands from shaking, his very soul screaming out as he looked down at his Ward’s too small body, his still and cooling body, his-
A sound, one so slight that he must have imagined it. A sound that was made again as glazed eyes fluttered open.
The sudden relief that punched Batman straight in the chest was almost enough to destroy him just like the grief almost had and his hand rushed to Dick’s neck feeling for a pulse he should have already gone to check.
It was slow, far too slow, almost as if every heart beat was weaker than the last.
“B?”
Dick’s voice was wrong, barely more than an exhaled breath and Batman hushed him, needing him to save his strength.
“B, they…” Dick mumbled anyway. “They gave me som…”
The slow heart rate, the near unconsciousness, the discarded needle a foot away as if Dick had thrown it. The damn thing was empty, whatever contents it had once held now coursing through Dick’s weakening body.
“Tried to fight.” Dick said. “Like you… You showed me. But they… They gave me something…”
His sweet boy, his sweet bright boy, once sun kissed skin now distinctly wrong, his lips already tinged blue.
Dick wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Whatever he had been exposed to, it had compromised his ability to breathe fully.
“They,” Dick said. “B, they…”
“Save your strength,” Batman said firmly.
Dick’s eyes watered as if he had been reprimanded and Batman floundered, not knowing how to soothe him, not knowing how to express to him just how worried he had been when he had heard from Alfred that Dick hadn’t met him outside school.
“Tried to fight.” Dick said. “Promise.”
“I know, Lad,” Batman said. “But save your strength and stay awake,”
When Bruce gathered Dick up and into his arms, Dick was useless to resist. Any movements he did make were wrong and there was no strength in Dick’s hand when it tried to hold onto Batman’s arm.
Every single breath that Dick took was less effective, the small exhales exhausting the boy just as much as the inhales did. Even within just a few steps Dick’s weight was already changing in Batman’s arms, growing heavier as his consciousness waned.
Dick did not answer him.
“Dick.” Batman warned, holding him tighter as he beelined for the exit of the warehouse. “Stay with me.”
Dick’s head shifted, dipping down then raising again. When his head dipped a second time, he huffed in annoyance, but Batman just soothed him through it.
“Stay with me.” Batman said again.
“Am…” Dick finally managed.
“So you are breathing?”
Dick’s nod was far more confident then it had any right being seeing as in trying to work out if he was or not, he had started holding that very same breath.
“Dick.” Batman, or was it Bruce, said.
Dick blew out the breath and it sounded almost like a laugh.
“Vry… Fuzz…”
“It’s the sedation,” Batman said. “Fight against it.”
“Fight.” Dick said. “Fight ‘gainst. Wait… How?”
“Just keep those deep breaths up for me, Chum.” Batman said.
Dick hummed, head dipping low again, his eyes drooping.
Batman moved a little faster, holding Bruce’s Ward close to his cheat. No, his Ward. He kept his Ward close to his chest.
As they came fully out of the warehouse, Dick whimpered, burying his head into Batman’s chest.
“What is it?” Batman demanded.
“Sun.” Dick moaned.
Batman shifted his grip on his boy, sweeping his cape around to hide not only the too bright street and headlights from Dick but Dick from the world that has been so determined to hurt him.
The sound Dick made then was almost one of contentment but as Batman took three more steps the sound shifted into one of pure discomfort.
“Deep breaths, Chum.” Batman reminded.
A hard finger poked against Batman’s ribs except in truth he barely felt it at all. Hell, even without the chest armour he doubted he would have fully felt it, there was simply no strength left in Dick as whatever was coursing through his system threatened his very life.
He was breathing, Batman told himself that he was breathing, even if he was struggling to do so much as that.
“Almost there, hold on.”
Except the Batmobile felt like a thousand miles away and Dick’s body was so small within his arms and it was already cooling, he was certain of it, Dick’s body was cooling and there was going to be nothing Bruce could do to warm it up again.
But then Dick shifted again, a weak hand knocking against Batman. He was awake, if only barely, and Batman held onto that knowledge as if it was the only thing he could depend on right now.
At last they were at the Batmobile except Dick was Dick Grayson right now, not Robin, and that meant he was a civilian and being a civilian meant Gotham General except Gotham General was too far away and the Cave was even further and Dick was weakening and he was fighting so hard to stay awake, he was trying so hard to breathe even as his own body struggled to do just that.
Dick was trying so damn hard and yet now Batman was standing right next to the Batmobile, staring down at the small form in his arms because he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know where to go, he needed to know where to go except the world was slow around him because Dick was barely breathing at all now and Bruce should have picked Dick up from school himself, Batman should have found Dick faster and prevented the exposure in the first place.
Another sound, this one barely so much as a sigh.
Leslie.
Leslie was closest.
She already knew Dick’s identity, Batman would not have to leave him for more than half a moment to get changed except maybe half a moment was still too long, whoever had drugged his little Robin could have very well have intended to instead use the sedatives on an adult. Dick was small, he was not only a child but he was small for his age and it was a miracle that Dick was even holding on at all if he’s been given a full adult dose.
Rage fuelled Batman as he placed the boy into the Batmobile, Dick not so much as shifting from how Batman lay him down.
Batman climbed in after him, pulling Dick against his chest once more to try to keep his airway as clear as possible. Dick’s eyes blinked slow as Batman ran a hand up and down his back, trying to rouse him.
As soon as he was certain that Dick was awake, Batman activated the self driving, commanding it to go directly to Leslie Thompkins’ Clinic.
“Hold on, Lad,”
“B…”
“That’s it, just keep breathing, I’ve got you Dick, I’ve got you.”
“Got you…” Dick mumbled.
“I’ve got you.” Batman said firmly. “Keep those breaths up for me.”
“B… They… They gave me something. Tried… Tried to fight. Trie…”
His voice drifted off fully, his eyes closing.
“Dick.”
Dick’s weight was heavy against him even though logically Batman knew he weighed little at all.
“Dick.”
There, the slightest breath, and again, Dick’s chest barely even moving at all.
Batman soothed him as best he could, trying and failing to wake him once more, Gotham little more than blurs outside of the car.
As soon as the Batmobile was screeching to a stop, Batman was already moving instead, gathering Dick fully into his arms once more and barreling out of the car. He twisted at the entrance to the Clinic, shoving it open with his back and not letting anything at all hurt his little boy.
“Leslie.” Batman barked.
There was a flurry of motion around him but Batman did not give a single fuck, his sole focus being on getting Dick straight to the closest free bed.
As he set Dick down onto the cot, he pulled away and while he had expected Dick’s hand to latch onto Batman’s arm, it didn’t. No, Dick was fully unconscious, his face far paler than it had any right being.
“What happened?” Leslie demanded.
She was already taking her stethoscope from her neck. She would detect a heart beat, there must be a heart beat, please dear god let there be a heartbeat.
“Batman.” She said firmly. “What happened?”
He hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t spoken and now Dick was going to die. He was going to die. Bruce was going to bury his Ward, his Boy, his Son.
“Sedatives.” Batman forced out. “I don’t know the dose or the type.”
“Okay,”
“Help him.”
“I will, Batman, but you need to move back.”
He didn’t. He couldn’t. This was Dick. This was Robin. This was everything he had left in this world.
“Batman.” Leslie said. “In order for me to help him, I need you to move back. I have him now, go see if you can contact Bruce Wayne, he’s this boy’s guardian.”
And he was Dick’s guardian and he was right here, he was right here and Leslie knew that, she knew that and yet she was forcing him away, Dick was barely breathing at all and she was forcing him away.
Oh.
Oh there were other civilians here, a nurse and two patients.
He… He moved away.
Dick did not whine as Batman moved away nor did he reach out and Batman should have never expected him to do either at all. Yes, Bruce was his guardian and Batman his mentor but that did not mean that this boy, this precious boy, cared if Bruce stayed or went.
Except Dick’s eyes did crack open and he did make a miserable sound and Batman was instantly right there with him again, making certain to give Leslie space to work.
“B…”
“I’m here.”
“B… Everything’s… Spin.”
“Breathe.”
“Spin.” Dick mumbled. His head shifted, those eyes of his barely open at all. “Make stop… Spin…”
“Batman.” Leslie said. “One more warning.”
Other civilians be damned, Batman leant down and pressed a kiss to Dick’s temple. Dick hummed in contentment but then he was gone again.
Pulling away fully from Dick’s bed, Batman beelined for the small office he knew full well was Leslie’s, the same office that Batman also knew full well stored a hidden pair of civilian clothing, one large enough for himself and one for a boy that did not currently need them.
He changed quickly, storing away his suit and gear, feeling strangely vulnerable without the armour and cowl to keep him safe, keep him focused even though he hadn’t felt very focused in the time since he found that small form laying there on the ground.
As much as Bruce wanted to, needed to, go straight back to Dick’s side, he forced himself to come out of the clinic instead.
He circled back around, making certain that no one at all saw where he had come from until he was all at once barging into the clinic once more.
Dick’s clothing had already changed too, cut away and exposing his chest that was now covered in electrodes feeding information to the small machine beside the bed.
His heart was beating, thank fuck his heart was still beating, but it was slow, too slow.
“Dick.” Bruce forced out.
Dick did not rouse, not so much as flinching as Leslie gently eased his head up just high enough to strap an oxygen mask to his face.
His lips had been blue. They were now hidden but his lips had been blue. The pulse oximeter on Dick’s tiny hand declared that his stats were low, too low, something was wrong, something was wrong and Leslie wasn’t fixing it, she was meant to be fixing it, Dick was meant to be okay, he needed to be okay.
“Bruce,” Leslie said. “Breathe.”
“I wasn’t exposed.” He ground out.
“I’m not saying you were,” Leslie said. “But you do still need to breathe too, hold his hand, he needs to know you’re here.”
Bruce was moving even before she had finished speaking but Dick’s hand was cold, he was so cold, whatever they had forced into him, it was too strong, it was too strong for him, he was going to die, he couldn’t die, not after all he’s been through already.
A hand, gentle on his arm.
“Bruce.” Leslie said again. “Breathe. Batman got him here as soon as he could.”
Bruce’s nod was more of a jerk of his head. He breathed, he forced himself to breathe, he forced himself to calm. Panic was dangerous, it would not help Dick whatsoever.
“Better,” She said. “Okay, I’m going to set up some fluids to try to flush out whatever was used from his system.”
“Do what you need to.”
Bruce raised Dick’s hand to his mouth, pressing another kiss on his Ward in some far off hope that it would help him fight.
The mask misted with each weak breath and while Dick’s eyes had started to flutter again, they did not fully open.
As Leslie did everything she needed to do, Bruce could do nothing at all except hold Dick’s hand close.
Bruce did not really remember sitting down.
He did not really remember much of anything at all, only that he was right where he needed to be, Dick’s hand still clasped in his own.
Bruce drifted again but a sound roused him almost immediately. He snapped fully awake, squeezing Dick’s hand as Dick mumbled something again. Dick’s head tilted, to the right, to the left, trying and failing to stir.
“Leslie,” Bruce called.
It was late. No, early. It was morning, barely past sunrise but morning all the same.
Dick made another sound, but this time it was almost a groan.
“Easy, Lad, easy,” Bruce said. “Leslie, something’s wrong, it’s almost like he’s in pain, he shouldn’t be in pain.”
“He’s okay,” Leslie said, amused for some reason. “Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if-”
Leslie moved faster than Bruce could register, somehow getting the mask off Dick’s face and Dick onto his side, a bedpan by his mouth in one smooth movement. Dick lurched, then again, his whole body shuddering from the effort.
“That’s it,” Leslie murmured. “That’s it, Dick, you’re doing amazing, Sweetheart.”
Dick’s body jolted again, this time really bringing up sick.
Leslie smoothed down his hair as Dick groaned miserably and it was only then that Bruce realised that he was no longer holding Dick’s hand, his own hand now feeling somewhat empty.
Glazed blue eyes tracked over from Leslie to Bruce himself.
“B?”
“Yes.” Bruce grunted.
“Bruce.” Leslie said.
Bruce tried again.
“I’m here,” He said softly. “You’re okay, Chum.”
“Don’t feel okay.” Dick muttered.
The colour drained from his face and he was throwing up again.
“It’s just the last of the sedation wearing off,” Leslie said. “You’re doing very well.”
“Sedation.” Dick said, his voice a thousand miles away. “Why would I have been- Oh. I… I tried to fight them off, B, I swear.”
“You did well,” Bruce said.
But Dick was already shaking his head. The movement only seemed to heighten his nausea but while he lurched, it seemed that for now at least his body was done. Dick groaned instead, curling up into a ball.
Leslie gave Dick several more moments to prove that he was indeed done before she pulled away, taking the bedpan with her.
Now with more space to move again, Bruce reached out towards him, hand hovering above Dick’s hair.
Dick shifted his head a little, blinking slowly as if he could not fully see Bruce. Dick tried for a smile that came off as more broken than reassuring but then Dick moved again, this time to close the gap between Bruce’s hand and his hair.
The sound that was punched out of Bruce’s chest did not have a name, it didn’t need one because he was already focusing instead on carding fingers through Dick’s hair.
Dick hummed, eyes drooping once more.
When Bruce had thought that Dick had fallen asleep once more, Dick surprised him yet again by trying to sit up.
Instantly Dick was falling back down again but Bruce kept him from accidentally hurting himself, coaxing him back down onto the bed.
“Bruce?”
“Yes?”
“You’re here.”
Bruce blinked at him.
“Yes? Is that… A problem?”
Dick considered for a long moment.
He shook his head, paled when he apparently set off his nausea with the movement. Swallowing thickly, Dick curled into his little ball for several long seconds before his body seemed to settle enough for him to be able to stretch out a little again.
“No.” Dick said. “I like it.”
While Bruce could not understand why, why this boy had become so much more than simply an orphan in need of a home, why Dick had ever come to trust someone like Bruce Wayne, he found that he was glad that he was here too.
Dick shuddered.
“It’s okay to be sick, Lad.”
When Dick glared at him, Bruce held up his hands in surrender.
Dick settled back into the bed, those brilliant eyes drooping all over again.
“Stay?” He murmured. “Please?”
When Bruce leaned forward, he did it slowly. He pressed a gentle kiss to Dick’s temple and as he pulled away once more, he found that Dick had already drifted off back to sleep. Good, he needed his rest.
Stay. Dick had said.
Bruce would stay, not simply for as long as it took for the last of the drugs to be processed by Dick’s body, he would stay for as long as Dick would have him.
Dick may have once been simply a lost child in need of guidance, but somehow along the way he had become so much more than that. Dick was his boy, now and forever, and while Bruce was not going to let him out of his sight any time soon, he was beyond heartened to know that he was doing so well.