The double doors to STAR labs' ICU wing flew open and the Dark Knight entered, his black cape flowing and billowing behind him from the wake of his long strides. Medical personnel jumped aside, eager to get out of the path of the ominous hero as heads turned to sneak a glance at the impressive, retreating form.
Facts, scenarios and survival statics of Sarin gas victims plagued Batman's mind as he turned the corner and, without trepidation, walked directly into the room his Intel had told him Nightwing would be.
He found his son exactly as he thought he would. With the exception of the mask, the young hero had been completely stripped of his uniform, scrubbed down, intubated and was currently unconscious.
That last detail found Batman partly relieved. If he was unconscious there was a good chance he was currently unaware--but, that hope quickly began to fade away as he moved close enough to view his son's face and took in the lines of tension and distress. They were faint; in fact, most would never notice, but this was his son and he saw.
Gloves were removed and in an instant he had a hold of his son's hand. He could feel Nightwing's grip tighten and relax over and over from the uncontrollable muscle spasms plaguing his body--just one of the painful side effects of the nerve gas.
Batman growled in his mind and made a silent vow to his partner that Luthor would pay for what he was going through. But, that would have to wait. Right now the Dark Knight had a more important mission--one that took priority over all others. He was here for his son, to help see him through this nightmare.
And, see him through it he would.