I don't own Nightwing, Batman or any other characters. There's no point suing me because I'm a college student over my head in student loans. This is my first Nightwing fanfic…so sorry if it isn't up to the standards that the brilliant people at DC have created.

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Dick continued to slowly improve over the next few days. His mind was still clouded with morphine, but he was awake more. His temperature returned to a few degrees above normal and he grew restless.

When he was left alone, he would walk slow laps around the room. He pushed himself hard to recover and was exhausted at the end of every day. Nearly a week after the shooting, he made another attempt to escape and return home.

Alfred came into the room as Dick stood by the side of the bed. He pulled on his sweatshirt and winced as he moved his shoulder.

"Going somewhere?"

Dick turned and hoped he didn't blush. "Time to go home."

"Were you cleared by doctor Thompkins?"

"She said to take things slow, and I will. At home." He held onto the bedpost as he stepped into his shoes. "Thanks for everything."

"It was good to have you back here." Alfred smiled. "Would you like me to drive you to your place?"

Dick lowered himself to the edge of the bed as he still tired easily and movement made him dizzy. "If you feel so inclined."

Alfred helped Dick out to the car. Dick struggled to stay awake as he was driven back to his apartment. Alfred insisted on escorting Dick to his apartment and making sure he was settled. Alfred made him toast and soup and insisted that Dick eat most of it. He did as he was asked. Dick didn't mind and allowed himself to be settled into bed and a glass of water brought in for him.

"If you need anything, master Richard, don't hesitate to call." Alfred rested his hand on Dick's shoulder.

"Sure." He leaned back against his pillows.

Alfred left the apartment only after making sure that Dick had fallen asleep. On the way back to Wayne manor, Alfred called Barbara Gordon and asked her to look in on Dick in a few hours.

Dick woke suddenly and felt the pain sharpen in his shoulder. The last dose of morphine was wearing off and he realized just how much it did. A knock on his front door disrupted his attempts to fall back asleep despite the pain. He sighed and slowly pushed himself to his feet.

Just as he got to the door, all seven locks were picked and the door swung open as far as the chain would allow.

"Damn." Barbara whispered from outside the door. "Dick?"

"I would have let you in if you had waited a few minutes." Dick feigned annoyance as he opened the door.

Barbara leaned on the doorframe. "Alfred told me to check up on you."

"I don't need anyone to look in on me." He sank into a chair.

Barbara went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water for Dick. She set it on the table next to him.

"What do you need?"

He kept his eyes closed. "Nothing."

"At least go back to bed. You look like crap."

"Thanks." He stood.

Barbara saw him waver and almost fall. She grabbed his arm as he nearly passed out. She gently pulled him to his room and helped him into bed. The pain in his shoulder doubled and it made his stomach turn. She noticed what little color he had leave his face.

"Dick?"

He closed his eyes and rested a hand over his stomach. Barbara pulled a trashcan over and left to get the glass of water from the living room. Dick hadn't moved when she came back, and she didn't expect him to.

She brushed his hair back from his face. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm just going to get some sleep." He muttered.

She pulled the blankets up and slipped out of the room. She closed the door some, but not fully. She went into the living room and pulled a book down from the shelf. She curled up in a chair and started to read.

When Dick woke, the room was dim with the oncoming evening. The pain in his shoulder returned to almost as sharp as when it first happened. The morphine was completely gone and he wanted anything to make the pain stop. He wasn't strong enough to deal with it in his current state. The room spun and his stomach clenched.

Slowly he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He paused for a few moments before he tried to move any further. He stood, stumbled against the wall on his way out of the room and staggered down the hall.

The bathroom light blinded him when he first turned it on. It started a pounding in his head to match the searing throb in his shoulder. He stumbled and dove for the toilet. He vomited the water he drank and the lunch Alfred prepared for him. The pain in his shoulder blinded him and the muscles in his stomach strained.

A cool hand rested on his sweat-soaked forehead and the other gently rubbed his back as he coughed and heaved. He slid to the floor and rested his face against the cool tile.

"Leslie called and said she'd be here in a few minutes." Barbara ran her fingers through Dick's hair, something that he loved.

"I'm all right." His voice broke from the pain.

"Sure, you are." There wasn't a trace of sarcasm.

She folded a towel under his head to make him a little more comfortable. He longed for sleep, but knew the pain was too sharp to allow the sweet relief.

"What do you need me to do?" She kept her voice low.

Dick opened his eyes slightly and tried to bring her into focus. "Don't know." He winced as the pain sharpened again.

His face was pale and sweat soaked his hair. He shook from the pain and the sickness it caused. Barbara could see the lines of pain around his tightly closed eyes and could do nothing more than sit at his side and feel his fingers tight around her own.

Leslie's knock at the door broke the painful minutes. Barbara stood and left Dick alone for a few seconds.

When Barbara and Leslie came into the bathroom, Dick had pushed himself up against the wall. His face was ashen and blood had soaked through the bandage. He took slow, shallow breaths to try and keep the pain under control.

Leslie knelt at Dick's side. "You left before I could officially clear you."

Dick opened his eyes a little and tried to smile. "Made it home, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did that." She sighed. "I'm going to give you something for the pain and then check your shoulder."

She dumped a pill from a prescription bottle into her hand as Barbara poured a glass of water from the sink. Leslie placed the pill in Dick's shaking hand and handed him the water. He took it without question, he would have taken anything.

"It won't be as effective as the morphine, but I don't want to give you any more morphine if we can help it. I don't want you to end up dependant on the stuff."

She carefully removed the gauze and looked at the bullet wound. It had opened a little and Dick flinched as she cleaned the blood away. She cleaned it carefully and bandaged it.

"How's it look?" His words slurred a little.

"About like it feels I expect." She took his temperature. "You should get back to bed."

Barbara and Leslie helped Dick to his feet and guided him back to bed. The pain medication had yet to kick in and the movement added to the dizziness he already experienced. He sunk into the pillows and closed his eyes. His breath was tight in his lungs from the movement.

Leslie rested her hand on Barbara's shoulder. "Will you be staying with him for a bit?"

"Yeah." She looked over at him.

"Don't let him out of bed. I'll be over before noon tomorrow. Call if anything changes." She handed Barbara the pill bottle. "Give him one every four hours."

Leslie packed up her bag and left the room. Barbara pulled a chair over and sat at Dick's bedside. She brushed his hair off his face and watched him sleep.