The Batman, was never late, he prided himself on it. Bruce Wayne had lateness built into his character, but The Batman could never be late. Batman could only count two times he had been late. One was the night Jason had died, something he considered one of his greatest failings. The other was tonight, which, as the seconds passed, his certainty of adding it to his list increased alarmingly.
Batman tried to keep his children located, even if not constantly like a stalker, but at least on a general basis, where they were going, where they intended to patrol, what case they were working at the moment. Dick, however, had been around long enough to adapt to the monitoring and had become accomplished at vanishing from the radar. If Dick did not want to be found, he would not be found. That was a fact that Bruce found himself cursing tonight.
He had not heard anything from Dick in a week when his emergency tracker had gone off, only to disappear thirty seconds later. That sent off warning bells. He had rushed to the location, after ensuring The Clock King was safely in the hands of the Gotham Police Department, only to find it abandoned. So now he was on a wild goose chase, following the most ridiculous and unlikely of clues. Finally, his gut instinct was telling him he was close, as were the countless numbers of goons trying to attack him. Finally he had eliminated all the guards on the roof. He jumped off the roof and crashed through the skylight. The sight of the bat screaming down from the heavens in a shower of glass was truly frightful, but the face under the cowl would have made the devil wet his pants. Foolish goons engaged the bat, but were quickly overwhelmed by the man sweating fury. Once the last goon had fallen, Batman ran towards the black and blue lump on the floor that currently he felt he had no right to claim parentage too.
"Nightwing!" he called as he rolled his balled son over towards him. He released a barely audible groan and his eyes rolled open, staring up at Batman blearily for a few seconds before slamming shut. Blood was gathering around him in a sickening pool that made Bruce want to stab himself. He was decorated with fresh wounds. His left eye bore a black ring and his mouth had become a waterfall for blood. He carefully looked around before removing the mask from Dick's face.
"Nightwing, can you hear me?" he asked. No reply was returned. He braced an hand behind his son's back and the other supported his head and neck as he lifted him towards himself.
"Open your eyes, Dick," Bruce demanded and Nightwing forced himself to obey his mentor, revealing a sliver of blue and white.
"Sorry Bruce," he whispered breathlessly, his eyes sliding shut. He was too weak to hold them open any longer.
"Don't speak," Bruce pleaded, "Stay awake."
It was a fruitless plead as Dick had already lost consciousness.
Batman could not run to the Batmobile fast enough and the Batcave could never be close enough for him in the moments that rushed past until he got the barely alive Dick Grayson to safety.
Dick became aware. Aware that he was alive, breathing and numb. Everything was numb. He laid there for a few seconds considering if it was worth trying to open his heavy eyelids.
"Dick?" the question was quiet and cautious.
"Hello," he answered back in a grating, hoarse voice that was deeper than he thought he was capable of.
"Oh my god, Dick!" the voice was clearly Tim's and his hands wrapped around his older brothers left arm. They were cold and gentle, shaking a little, almost as if unsure of his own actions.
"I must have really died if I'm a god now?" Dick questioned with a smirk, his left eye slightly peeking open.
"You're ok!" clearly having his brother cracking jokes told Tim that he was definitely ok.
"How many pain meds am I on? I can't feel my feet," Dick asked a little playfully.
"More than I would like to know. Oh my god, I have to go get Bruce," Tim buzzed and his arms loosened on Dick's arm, but then he stopped. Dick's other eye opened and he looked at his brother's face. Tim was staring at him, his face carried a look of worry, as if he was scared to leave Dick's side. Maybe he was scared that this was a crazy dream and that if he left Dick would fall asleep again.
"Um. Alfred. Alfred!" he picked up his voice, eyes only leaving Dick to briefly glance at the door through which the butler would come, "Alfred! Alfred! Come quickly!"
Alfred burst through the door, "Good heavens master Tim, whatever is the matter?"
"Dick's awake!"
"Hi Alfie," Dick chirped as best he could with his sore throat.
"Oh, thank goodness, Master Richard. We were all very much worried there for a moment," Alfred visibly relaxed, "I will go tell the Master."
"We were really worried, Dick. I'm really glad you're awake now," Tim looked at him sadly.
"Me too, Timmy, me too," Dick said and took his little brother's hand to squeeze, tossing him a small, content smile.