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Dick leans down, pressing gently on Bruce’s shoulder. “Hey,” he murmurs. “Sleeping in a cave? Kinda taking the bat-lifestyle thing a little far now, aren’t we B?”
Bruce doesn’t stir at all.
The realization that something is wrong almost clicks into place, like his train of thought has snapped onto another track.
Just like that, everything is different.
“Bruce,” he says sharply, and this time it’s loud enough to border on a shout. He doesn’t shake him — Alfred had said hairline fracture on his vertebrae, and Dick hadn’t bothered to ask which vertebrae, didn’t ask any followups, why didn’t he —
His fingers find Bruce’s pulse — slow, too slow by a mile, his skin clammy under Dick’s fingertips. He needs to get Alfred down here, he doesn’t know enough about Bruce’s injuries, doesn’t know what kind of complications —
There’s a call button on the wall. He takes three quick steps away towards it away from Bruce.
And then he stops.
There’s a pill bottle out on the counter.
Holy Server B@man Whumptober Day 1: [Drugs]: Headache or Migraine | Accidental overdose
Series
- Part 1 of HSB Whumptober 2026
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better heads need shut eye
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