... This is what happens when I see Les Mis (for the third time...) and then read three Death of the Family-related comcs in the same day.
I do not own Young Justice.
Nightwing saw the bullet rushing towards Robin as the boy was turned towards the thug he was currently fighting. There was no time to call out; by the time Tim would even register his words, it would be far too late. The metal slug would just have buried itself in his little brother's flesh, wounding him greatly, very possibly beyond all repair...
There was obviously only one thing he could do.
Dick was an acrobat; he knew how to launch himself swiftly in one direction faster than most people could start walking. With an added mission to fuel his determination, it took him seconds to reach his target.
The bullet pierced his costume, and started digging into the muscles in his right shoulder as he crashed into the cold cement.
The criminals all saw this as a chance to escape with their goods, and all scattered, leaving a shocked Robin and an injured Nightwing.
Registering that his older partner had an injury, the boy fell to his knees at his side, quickly checking the pulse, paling as he noticed how weak it was.
"Wha-what happened?" Tim choked out, his hands fumbling through his utility belt for a bandage.
"There-there was a bullet heading for you... Had to protect you..." The words were obviously forced, and Dick gave a sudden hiss of pain as he finished the words.
"You... You could have just told me about it!" Where were those stupid bandages?! He had gone through almost all of the pockets now, but he just couldn't remember which one it was...
"Wouldn't... have... heard in time..." Dick's voice was fading...
Tim cried out in success as he pulled out the bandages, and quickly set upon wrapping the... gapping, bloody wound that was just getting worse with every passing second...
"I-I had to protect you, Timmy..." Dick whispered , his eyes half-closed. "I couldn't save Jay... Had to save you..."
"You-you did, Dick," Tim felt tears starting to form beneath his mask as he pulled out his team communicator.
"Th-this is Robin, I am here with Nightwing. He is injured. Repeat, Nightwing is down. Re-requesting back-up, preferably a speedster to get him to medical help as quickly as possible. Robin out."
There was a moment of silence, in which Robin could only stare at the small communicator in desperation, avoiding looking down, at Dick, whose blood was slowly leaking over his costume, leaving little rivers of crimson blood over his costume, the blue bird on his chest being stained with the life-bearing liquid...
"Impulse here. Stand by, Rob. I'll be there in just a minute! Impulse out."
Tim felt a few laughs force themselves out in relief, but he soon stopped as he glanced back down at Dick.
And saw his eyelids slowly closing...
"Come on, Dick! Impulse will be here in a sec! You just have to hold on another second, and then we'll get you a doctor... You-you'll be okay... You have to be okay..."
"I had to save you, Timmy..."
"You did! But-I need you, Dick! Impulse will be here in seconds! Please hold on!"
"I'm sorry... I-I think I see Jay... and my parents..."
Dick's eyes were closed... but he was smiling.
Tim couldn't stop the flow of tears running down his face and puddling on the concrete below as Impulse ran in literally a second later, a smart remark ready, only to fall silent upon realizing that, despite trying, he was too late.