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“Robin, you’re alright.” Bruce tries to soothe. “It’s me. It’s only me.”
Dick squirms against his chest, breathing heavily. “No… No. No. No. No…”
Bruce sighs, looking around for a quick moment. “Dick. It’s me. It’s Bruce. You’re in the Metropolis Botanical Gardens. Just breathe. Breathe with me.”
It was as if Dick couldn’t hear him.
He was trapped in his own little world.
Bruce doesn’t even quite understand what had happened. He was investigating the outside of the building when he heard Dick’s blood curdling scream.
And it wasn’t like Dick could explain at the moment.
God, how was he even supposed to get back to Gotham?
Bruce cards his gloved fingers through Dick’s hair, murmuring to the boy as he tries to figure out his next course of action. There was no way that he could drive the Batmobile back without Dick hurting himself.
As if on cue, a sonic boom sounds in the distance.
Shit.
He doesn’t know if he has the mental capacity to deal with Superman right now.
Not when his son has been poisoned with god knows what.
The door to the botanical gardens’s greenhouse creaks open and Dick flinches, eyes vacant.
“Bats? What’re you doing here?” Superman greets, cape flowing behind him as he approaches.
Bruce watches him carefully before speaking. “We were tracking someone from Gotham to the botanical gardens.” Dick claws at his chest, muttering to himself. “Robin has been poisoned.”
“Oh, man…” Superman breathes, crouching down in front of the duo. He squints at the bright red, yellow, and green uniform. “He has a broken rib and wrist.”
“Are you able to tell what he was poisoned with?”
Superman falls silent for a moment, focusing on the boy writhing in Bruce’s arms once again. “I don’t know… whatever it is, it has him spooked.”
Dick’s muttering suddenly becomes more frantic and he starts punching. The hits are weak and barely land. Bruce props up the boy against his chest, pinning Dick’s arms between them. “It’s alright.” he hushes. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”
“No…”
“Robin, please. You’re with me. You’re in Metropolis.”
“Don’t, please. Please. Please, don’t.” Dick wheezes. “You don’t… I need-”
“Rob-”
“Bruce!” Dick chokes out the most heart wrenching, guttural sob. “No!”
Bruce freezes, eyes flashing to Superman for a moment before standing. “It’s me. I promise I’m here. I’m gonna get you home.”
Superman stands as well. “Wait, so you’re-”
“I need to get him home.” Bruce barks, the words probably coming out a lot more harsh than he intended. He walks past Superman- towards the Batmobile.
“Bats.” Superman calls out, chasing after them. “Let me help. Please.”
Bruce doesn’t stop.
He was about to pack Dick into the passenger seat of the car when the boy started to gasp.
Wet, chest rattling breaths echo throughout the parking lot.
“His left lung has collapsed.”
When Bruce turns around, he finds that Superman is only a step behind him.
“Let me take him to the hospital. I can get there almost immediately."
“We don’t do hospitals.”
“Then let me do something, Bats. There’s no way he’s getting enough oxygen right now. With how he was hyperventilating earlier and his lung-”
Bruce takes a deep breath, looking down at Dick.
His boy.
His son.
Whose lips are taking on the slightest hue of blue.
He really didn’t want to do this.
But…
Bruce takes a step towards Superman, placing Dick gently into his waiting arms. “Fly to the Wayne Tower private garage. Someone will meet you there.”
Superman gives a quick nod before taking off.
Bruce drives faster than he ever has in his life.
He calls Alfred on the way.
When he finally arrives, Bruce slams the Batmobile into park and rushes out of the vehicle.
He practically sprints over to the makeshift medical area that Alfred had set up last month after he had been shot.
Superman was pacing in front of the curtains, looking more stressed than he’s ever seen him. When he hears approaching footsteps, he looks up. “Robin is okay. He started to calm down a little bit once we crossed over into Gotham.”
Bruce nods, finally breathing fully for the first time since he handed Dick over.
“And listen… about the whole secret identity thing, don’t worry about it. Your secret is safe with me.” Superman pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath before extending his hand. “I’m Clark. Clark Kent.”
“Kent…” Bruce repeats, eyeing Clark closely. “Aren’t you that reporter for the Daily Planet?”
Clark beams for a brief second before recognition flashes across his features. “...And I realize that this is a little awkward now that I remember I wrote that piece on Wayne Enterprises last week.”
It wasn’t an inflammatory article, Bruce remembers.
But then again, he only skimmed it while sitting vigil in Dick’s bedroom after a nightmare.
Alfred steps out from behind the curtain. “Robin is finally resting. I took the liberty of doing a blood draw so that you can investigate what he was poisoned with.”
“Thank you, Alfred.”
Bruce walks through the curtain, looking at the boy laid out on the bed in front of him.
He looks so small.
So pale.
He sits at Dick’s bedside, removing the cowl. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor doing little to console him at the moment.
Bruce knew he shouldn’t have allowed Dick to join his crusade. The world of a vigilante is not a place for a twelve year old.
But he saw how Dick kept sneaking out night after night to investigate the death of his parents.
He would have been killed if he continued on that path.
Bruce wanted to give him the same tools that he has.
So that he can be smarter.
So that he can be better.
“...’ruce.”
His head snaps up, instantly reaching for Dick’s hand. “It’s me. You’re in the cave.”
“What happened?” Dick asks weakly, eyes only half-open.
“You were poisoned at the botanical gardens. Superman flew you back here.” He replies. “You have a broken rib, wrist, and a punctured lung.”
Upon hearing the other hero's name, Dick attempts to sit up. “Superman? He’s here?”
Bruce nods, motioning to his maskless face. “He knows, by the way. You don’t have to worry about names.”
Clark, once again on cue, peaks through the curtain timidly. “Is it alright if I come in? Alfred said that-”
“...Holy shit.” Dick breathes, sinking back into the hospital bed mattress. “You’re actually here.”
Clark smiles, fully stepping through the fabric. “Are you feelin’ alright? Whatever you were hit with messed you up quite a bit.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. A little sore… but I’ll be okay.” Dick stumbles over himself. “Thank you.”
Clark nods, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. “No problem. You guys were already out in my neck of the woods anyway.”
Bruce squeezes Dick’s hand before standing. “I have some things I need to take care of. I’ll be right back.”
Dick nods, looking back at Clark as Bruce takes his leave. “So, Superman-”
“You can call me Clark.”
“Oh, cool. I’m Dick.”
As Bruce walks off to change out of his suit and start the analysis of Dick’s blood sample, he thinks that his son really needed this.