Chapter Text
Cold.
As Dick began to pry his eyes open, the feeling dug deeper in his skin. Its radiation made his whole body burn. The surrounding darkness deprived him of most of his senses, leaving him disoriented. He waited for any sound of life, but the only thing he could hear was the low hum of a motor and what sounded like air pumping through the vents around the room.
Dick couldn’t feel anything under his feet as he began kicking around. He was being suspended from something above him, but his arms were by his sides, not even tied up. Gotham’s criminals were getting dumber everyday, Dick chuckled to himself. His arms made their way above his head until a sharp pain shot down his right arm. Instinctively, he grabbed his shoulder to find there was a thick metal hook sticking out of it.
The pain seemed to multiply with the burning of the coldness around him. It cleared his mind and put the pieces together. Dick was in a meat locker. The cold air blasted in his ear. A faint smell of meat and blood, which was probably his, became stronger, making him nauseous by its sudden presence.
Now, he could remember parts of the night. His latest case led him to the butcher warehouse where they housed guns for one of the Penguin’s lieutenants. He didn’t even plan on going to Gotham that night, but he figured he could be in and out before sun up, so he didn’t tell anyone he was in town. It was a simple recon gone bad, Nightwing could barely remember being surrounded by goons.
Dick realized his domino should still be on. He reached up to activate the comm unit. His head began to pound between his ears with loud static. Shit. His head was wet on his temple with what he could probably assume was blood. One of them must have gotten a lucky hit in and knocked him out cold. Dick laughed to an audience of none to his timely pun.
His body was now in a constant shiver. His muscles were desperately trying to keep him warm. He had no way to contact anyone, so it was up to Dick to get himself out of this before he froze to death. Easy.
PING!
A cell phone buzzed to life. Dick noticed a faint light in front of him. He sluggishly lifted his leg and kicked forward. A large mass swung in front of him, it was a body. That explained why no one bothered to bind his hands. He was being disposed of, not taken hostage. Dick reached out for the back pocket he could now barely make out before the phone screen turned off again, leaving him back in the darkness. That was his way out, but there was no way to reach it. The cold was aching in his joints now. His right side, covered in blood, was being stabbed by icy needles. He had to get off this hook.
Dick worked quickly to grab the chain above him with his uninjured arm. He began to lift his body and swing forward. The body in front of him was close enough to put his legs over the guy’s shoulders.
“Sorry!” Dick mumbled, reaching for the bar this chain must be attached to. Sure enough, he found it a couple of feet above him. Wrapping both his arms around the bar, Dick took a second to rest. His arms took the weight off his shoulder, which was nice, but he knew that relief wasn't going to last very long.
Dick let go with his left hand and immediately winced. His right arm throbbed from his shoulder to his fingertips and he knew he didn't have long to get himself free. He reached behind his back to then grab the hook with his left hand, which could barely feel anymore.
A couple deep breaths later, Dick began to pull. The pain ripped through his entire body. His vision exploded in white hot fire through his skull. Dick wanted to rip it out to make it stop, but couldn't risk pulling it out too quickly and doing more damage. He slowly kept pulling, every extra second closer to passing out. His body was almost entirely numb, yet also wailing at him in agony. The hook slowly slid out from underneath his collarbone until the tension suddenly disappeared and Dick was free. He couldn’t keep his eyes open as his consciousness fell with his body to the floor.
— — —
Dick woke up slowly. As he became more aware, the pain he had forgotten about in the few seconds of peaceful sleep crept in with even more intensity. Dick carefully sat up, trying to keep his head still from any quick movement. After waiting for the room to stop spinning, he tried to stand up and dropped to the floor. He was surprised when his knees instantly buckled under his own weight. He groaned more out of frustration than pain. He was really starting to tire, but Dick had to get that phone.
He got on his knees and crawled to the body, then climbed up the man’s jeans to reach into the body’s back pocket. Grabbing the phone, Dick crashed back to the floor. He felt exhausted now. Coldness was eating away at whatever strength he had left. The screen nearly blinded him as it turned on. He could really tell he had a concussion now as his head began to throb at a steady rhythm. It wasn't the worst he's had, but it was still not helping his current situation. Dick got to the emergency dial pad and froze.
Who should he call? He was dialing from an unknown number which limited who he could get a hold of. Still, he had to try. First he thought of Bruce, but Dick remembered he never carried a cell phone on patrol. Too risky, he says. However, Dick knew that Jason always kept his phone on him. After dialing, it rang a couple times before going to a voicemail that wasn’t set up. Dick was going to have a conversation about the importance of having a voicemail if he got out of this freezer.
Dick then slowly dialed Bab’s number, his fingers shot with pain with every press. It rang and rang. Dick figured she wouldn't answer, but she always checked her voicemail, or at least he hoped she would soon. He was so tired now and couldn't fight the sleep anymore. He hoped to dream of someplace warmer.