A Detective Gets Help (Finally)
As soon as the words left Dick's mouth, the surrounding officers exploded.
Angry shouts whizzed through the air like tiny fighter planes, fists brandished and egos in full swing as the men began to protest.
Even the junior heroes were looking at him askance, KF going so far as to press the back of his hand to Dick's forehead.
"You feeling alright? Sure you're not running a fever?"
"I'm fine." He slapped the hand away, bristling as much as his injury would permit. "Now bring me outside, we have to make sure Ida's okay." He warbled, his next word making him want to claw his own tongue out, "…please."
One look at Addams, and he knew the oily man would comply with his request no matter how mad it made his little underlings. Apparently, that threat of reporting his actions to the higher ups had done some serious damage.
Later, the on-scene investigator might have something else to say; but right now he still feared Dick enough not to question things.
KF had the gall to smile and mutter, "If you say so, little man."
Dick was going to flay this speedster alive.
He seethed in silence as they made their way towards the door, having no choice but to bide his time. Later, when he wasn't using KF as a crutch, he'd have to commit his first ever homicide.
Stepping through the bar doors felt like a slice of heaven.
The acrid stink of clingy cigarettes and awful liquor faded behind them, giving way to the still-not-so-pleasant-but-better-than-rotting-dead-bodies stench of the city.
The clouds had swirled above, blocking out the sun, and it looked as if it might rain later. The damp scent of it carried in the chill wind, tempting Dick to just stand there and breathe it in until the iron tang of blood was no longer caught in his nose.
The detective knew from experience that it would never really leave. It was the kind of smell that simply lingered, even when one was standing in the middle of a Target candle aisle.
It would linger forever, just like a memory. Snapped bones. A red-stained mouth—
He yanked himself out of his thoughts, quickly pulling back to the world around him.
Ida was outside standing next to the door, arms wrapped around her chest as she shuddered. Addams never had gotten her that shock blanket.
Miss Martian, who'd escorted the woman out earlier, was gently rubbing circles into Ida's shoulders. She didn't even glance up at them when they exited the bar, too intent on comforting their witness.
Letting out a few choice curses under his breath that caused to Wally side-eyeball him concernedly, he shucked off his dust covered uniform jacket and got Miss Martian's one-track attention.
He figured she'd be the least likely to comment on his behaviour, and his theory proved correct when she wordlessly took the jacket from his outstretched fingers.
Ida hesitated a second too long before taking it, makeup smeared eyes wide when they met Dick's.
He merely shrugged in response, subconsciously leaning into the speedster's warm body at his side. "We can't have you catching cold now, can we?" There was smile on his lips, and he knew she saw it.
"R-right," Her voice trembled in time with the shivers wracking her body, unsteady arms slipping the jacket over her shoulders.
He noted that it nearly fit her petite frame perfectly—except for where it sagged a bit on her arms and shoulders—and frowned.
He wasn't that small. Was he?
Fortunately, he was saved having to contemplate further by the sound of oncoming sirens, the screech of an ambulance wailing in the nearby streets.
Then it raced around a corner, hugging a little too closely to the sidewalk and startling a few wide-eyed pedestrians.
It reamed to a stop in front of them, EMTs hopping out looking intent, only for them to pause when they caught sight of the heroes.
Spotting Justice League members in Bludhaven, due to its proximity to Gotham, was extremely rare. It was practically Gotham's city -sister, which meant that Batman's unwavering protection partially extended to it as well.
Meaning, heroes usually avoided it at all costs. The Bat was nothing if not territorial.
Fortunately, it didn't take long for the paramedics to pick their jaws up off the sidewalk and hurry towards Grayson.
"Lie down, sir, we'll take it from here." A particularly enthusiastic woman grabbed his wrist, likely trying to get a good read on his pulse.
He snatched his hand back, "I'm fine. It's the lady over there who needs help."
Both emergency responders looked at him skeptically, eyeing him up and down with particular focus on his right leg.
Ah, right. His impalement.
"She's in shock," Dick motioned at Ida again. "She just survived an explosion and could possibly have internal complications. I'll be fine."
He felt so much as heard KF snort in disbelief, but decided to ignore it for now. The speedster could be dealt with later, when he had coordination and knives and ample time to hide a body.
When the EMTs still didn't back off, he yanked out his badge and flashed its metallic surface at them.
The woman glared at it, but finally, finally went with her male co-worker over to Ida. They motioned Miss Martian back, trying—and failing—not to stare too hard at her green skin.
"Can you tell me what your name is?" The woman shone a light into one of Ida's eyes, watching carefully as she waved it back and forth.
"I-Ida. My name's Ida."
"Good, sweetie. I'm going to have to touch you now." The EMT carefully felt around the base of their witnesses' neck, looking relieved by what she did, or didn't, find there. "She doesn't have any swelling. We're good to move."
"Copy that." Her and her partner helped Ida onto the stretcher, getting her situated quickly and efficiently.
M'gann, now without anyone to care for, moved to Conner's side. "I already checked for a concussion and spinal injury," She crossed her arms over her chest, muttering petulantly, "They didn't have to do it again."
Superboy gently nudged her shoulder, expression lighter than Dick had ever seen it. "You did good. It's their job to check."
Ida motioned of them to stop in front of the detective, completely ignoring the frown she got from both paramedics.
"Here," She moved to take his dusty jacket from her shoulders, but he shook his head quickly.
"No, you keep it." He thought he smiled at her, but his mind was getting increasingly muddled with each passing second. "It'll give me an excuse to visit."
Ida beamed at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. Her voice was soft when she spoke. "Thanks, Detective Grayson."
"Dick."
She looked confused at this, but the EMT had apparently hit her limit on unwilling patients for the day.
"Come on, sweetie, we've got to get you moving."
A brief flash of panic worked its way over Ida's face as she was wheeled away. She tried to twist around, but they were already loading her into the back of the ambulance.
Dick made a move to step forward, fully intent on accompanying her further, but evidently he wasn't the only one who'd seen the other woman's fear.
Miss Martian pulled away from her boyfriend's side. "Wait, I'm going with you! She's an extremely important witness and shouldn't be left alone!"
He resisted the urge to sag against Wally in relief; there's no way Dick could've properly protected Ida with the state he was in. M'gann would do a much better job of things.
The EMT opened her mouth to protest, but seemed to think twice about it when she saw M'gann's determined expression. "Alright. You can come, but only family are allowed in the check up room." She eyed her green skin pointedly, "And I don' think you're family.
The Martian saluted merrily before following them into the back of the still-flashing vehicle, "Yes, ma'am."
As soon as they were inside and the doors were closed, the ambulance peeled away from the curb, sirens wailing. Dick cringed as the sound bounced around inside his skull.
Mere seconds after the emergency vehicle had pulled away, Addams poked his head out of the bar's shabby door. The man had obviously been waiting for Ida to leave before making his entrance, "Do you want me to bring the witness out now?"
The detective opened his mouth to answer, only to feel his legs give out on him completely.
One minute they were semi-functioning, only trembling a little bit, and the next they were completely betraying him.
KF stopped him before he could get too far, gently lowering Dick to the dirty sidewalk.
"You are an absolute idiot," He heard Artemis state, though she was already bending down to look at him. "I knew you should've gone in the ambulance."
"I'll be—" He cut himself off with a grunt when she poked at the wound, raising an eyebrow at his eloquent response.
"If you say fine one more time, I will personally escort you to the nearest nurses' office."
He hissed at her, but couldn't find the energy within himself to argue. Glaring didn't take much out of him though, so Dick gladly stared her down.
"Yeah, yeah." She helped Wally heave the detective back up to his feet, now being completely supported by them. "Use your angry eyes all you want, we're following Ida to the hospital right now."
"I could run him there," KF suggested, earning himself a bat glare for the comment. "He's not that heavy."
"No," Dick said slowly, carefully enunciating so as not to slur his words. "We have to get Copper—the witness, to Griffins ASAP. Someone there can…can patch me up."
"Yeah?" Conner stared down at him condescendingly. It was strange, seeing Superman's usually cavalier face fixed into such a hostile look. "You're no good to us if you pass out."
"Then I won't pass out," Dick spat at the super, annoyed at how much effort it took to get the words passed his lips. "Trust me."
Superboy looked satisfied by his answer, and it took the detective a couple seconds to realize he'd just been goaded into strengthening himself. By Conner Kent, no less.
As if that wasn't humiliating enough, the hulking man then bent down and picked him up, holding Dick in his arms like he was some kind of fatigued damsel.
It would be dumb to argue, especially when he couldn't even walk, but that didn't stop Dick from glaring at anyone who dared look at him too long.
"Take a picture," He told the speedster bitingly when he caught him looking, an amused expression twisting his freckled face. "It'll last longer."
"Okay, we get it. You're grumpy." Artemis rolled her eyes, gesturing towards the detective's squad car. "Get him in the back seat. Kaldur and Addams should be back with the witness any minute now."
Loading everyone into the back with the added addition of a hissing, bristling witness (who was also a skilled assassin, though Dick was the only one who knew it), proved to be much more difficult task than the heroes had previously thought.
Artemis sat in the driver's seat, looking a little too smug about it for Dick's taste, while Kaldur made himself comfortable on the passenger's side.
Conner had plopped his detective doll—which is what Dick felt like; some kind of life-sized toy. He absolutely hated it—behind Kaldur, while he sat in the middle. It seemed the super's goal was to separate the witness and Dick as much as possible.
Probably a wise choice, given Dick's current state of mind.
Wally delegated to run behind them after realizing there wasn't enough room. Artemis had suggested stowing the speedster in the trunk, but Dick couldn't tell if she'd been kidding or not.
Their relationship was weird enough when he wasn't half-loopy.
And then their rag tag bunch was off, Artemis prodding him for directions every couple of turns. Dick wasn't sure if she actually didn't know where she was going or if the archer was just trying to keep him conscious.
He much preferred the former, though he did feel oddly warm at the thought of someone…caring like that.
Or, maybe, that was just the blood loss talking.
For some reason, he really, really hoped it wasn't.
There had been few moments in life when Dick felt true humiliation.
Generally, he possessed a sense of confidence that kept feelings like 'embarrassment' or 'shame' far, far away from his consciousness.
That being said, getting bridal carried through the Bludhaven police precinct with an escort of spandex-ed heroes was definitely one such moment.
In fact, if Dick hadn't been half out of his mind, he's likely would've melted from the sheer horribleness of it all.
However, with Artemis leading the way, Copperhead restrained at her side and looking extremely put-out about it, there wasn't any time for melting.
The archer stopped in front of the commissioner's office, quickly glancing over her shoulder as if making sure the rest of her team were still with her. Then she knocked, the sound obnoxiously loud in Dick's ears.
No less then three seconds later and the door was swinging open, revealing the stoic face of Commissioner Griffin.
Her brows flew up in surprise at the sight of Artemis and Copperhead, only to lower again when her gaze landed on the prone Dick in Superboy's arms.
Without speaking, she stepped aside, watching silently as their strange party filed in.
Before she closed the door behind them, the commissioner sent a menacing glare at the officers outside. Most of them were milling about, obviously perking their ears for a stray tidbit of gossip.
"As you were." Her voice was smooth, but the underlying threat was still definitely there. It was an order, no doubt about it.
Dick couldn't really blame them. If one of his coworkers was carried in by a mainstream superhero, he'd want to know the scoop too.
Griffin didn't look at them again until she was seated behind her desk, fingers steepled in an annoyingly effective power pose. "Imagine my surprise, Detective Grayson, when I heard about a recent bombing in the very same part of town you were called to."
Her tone was frigid, but Dick could read the concerned pull of her lips. The tightening of the skin around her eyes.
He'd grown up with Bruce Wayne, after all. That was practically a master class in gauging reluctant emotions.
"And," The commissioner pressed on, "Imagine my astoundment when I got a call that an ambulance was soon after dispatched to the scene. That all I could hear was your name on the radio." Her eyes were practically boring holes into his skull now, "Just. Imagine."
KF whistled low under his breath and Dick couldn't help but agree. He'd forgotten how angry Griffin could look when she was worried.
Repressing a groan, he tried to sit up in Superboy's grasp, only to have a wave of black obscure his vision for a moment. He pressed a hand to his temple, waiting for it to pass.
"My apologies," The detective muttered as soon as he could see again. "I should've called but we were just a little…" Again, black filled his vision and he resisted the urge to rub it away. "Busy."
"Clearly." The commissioner said, but he could already hear the lilt in her voice that indicated forgiveness. "Now why the hell are you not riding in the back of that ambulance right now?"
"That's what we said, Commissioner." Aqualad held out a hand, as if to placate her. Dick wanted to tell him that Griffin was more likely to bite the limb off than be calmed by it, but he couldn't find the energy to say it. "However, Detective Grayson was most insistent."
"Don't talk 'bout me like I'm not here," Dick snapped at them, wishing he didn't sound so out of it. "I'll be fine."
He did not like the mutual look Griffin and Kaldur exchanged, both of them seeming overly exasperated.
Overly, right? He really would be fine. Dick had been inflicted with worse injuries since he was a child; this was nothing he couldn't handle.
His vision flickered as if in protest of his thought process, but he steadfastly ignored it.
"Then you won't mind me calling in our resident Frank, will you?" Griffin's hand was already moving to the intercom system on her desk. She'd obviously meant that as a rhetorical question.
"Be my guest," He answered, even though the commissioner was already speaking into the small mike.
Dick wasn't sure what she said—maybe he'd blacked out again? But the door was suddenly flying open, Frank himself barging in with all the grace of a six-legged elephant.
Frank was one of the precinct's more senior officers. Apparently, he'd gone through some form of med school about…. a hundred years ago? Dick wasn't sure, but the man certainly looked old enough to have frolicked with the dinosaurs.
"Where's the bastard?!" The man slammed the door shut, immediately scanning the room. Upon sighting Dick, he stomped forward, massive eyebrows lowered over storm cloud eyes.
"Hey," Dick answered, giving a half-hearted wave.
He'd been hoping to dissolve some of the tension, but his action only made Frank look even more upset.
"I can't believe ya!" The stout man motioned for Superboy to set Dick down in a nearby chair. Conner did so, appearing mildly amused by this whole situation. "Yer going'ta get yerself killed, lad."
Frank pulled a compact first aid kit out of thin air, or at least it seemed that way to Dick.
"How was I supposed to know a piece of shrapnel was going to impale me." He crossed his arms, scowling down at his bloody thigh. "Stupid ceiling."
"Whas'at?" The larger man knelt in front of him, staring at the wound. He relaxed slightly when he surveyed the injury, eyes narrowing in an assessing way that offset his teddy-bear mannerisms. "You stupid git. At least it didn't hit the femoral artery."
"That's what I said!" Dick crowed to the room, shooting the spectating heroes a reproachful look.
From behind her desk, he thought he saw Griffin face-palm.
"It's not as bad as it looks," The ex-medical worker gently felt around the wound. "He'll need some stitches and losing this much blood's bound to make him a wee woozy, but he's a cheeky blighter. Nothin' short of beheadin' could get this tyke in the grave."
Dick frowned, as there were likely plenty of things beside 'beheadin' that would 'get him in the grave'(boredom, for starters), but he wisely decided to keep his peace.
Now that the rest of the room knew he wasn't about to drop dead (which was what he'd been telling them this whole time. Honestly, the audacity of some people), the commissioner addressed the wanted criminal in the room.
"How kind of you to join us. I assume, since this likely isn't your first run-in with the law, that you already know your rights and legalities?"
The hitman merely bared his teeth in response, a sinister hissing sound escaping from deep within his throat.
"Right then." The commissioner rose, emanating steady power and presence with every smooth shift of muscle. She leaned forward against her desk, palms flat on its scarred wood. "Care to explain why you're here? Or must I ask my foolhardy detective?"
The reptilian man seemed to find this amusing. His grin was mocking, full of too-sharp teeth and a flicking tongue. "Don't bluff me, woman. Your little celebrity pet project," He spat the words, like they'd burned his mouth. "Hasss no idea what'ss happening in the city around him."
Dick winced as Frank's hurried hands cut away at the jagged fabric of his pants, the small medical scissors clicking in the following silence.
He tried to focus on the criminal before them, knowing Frank would next be going for the shrapnel still sticking out of his leg.
Narrowing his eyes, he banished the flickering darkness from his vision with sheer force of will.
Griffin looked unimpressed by Copperhead's pronouncement; one immaculate eyebrow raised in skepticism, "Indeed." Then she swivelled away, taking her attention from the hitman as if he were no more than an uninteresting moth dodging a lamp bulb. "Aqualad, please fill me in on the situation immediately. Spare no detail."
"Yes ma'am," The Atlantean hid the beginning of a small smile before continuing.
And he certainly did spare no detail. From the number of bodies on the bar floor to the exact time of the explosion; Kaldur recounted it all word for word, not breaking character once as he did.
It would've almost been impressive if Dick hadn't been clenching his hands against the sides of the chair, knuckles white as Frank painstakingly stitched the gaping gash together.
The detective was doing his best not to get de-railed from Aqualad's narrative, but that was a difficult task. Especially with the dripping piece of twisted metal—which had only recently been parted from his thigh—lying on the chair beside him.
It was a lot smaller than he'd expected. A fact that was both simultaneously a great relief and rather annoying.
If Dick was going to be impaled, he wanted to be impaled. Not pricked by a mere shard.
(A small part of him realized that this was, perhaps, a very illogical train of thought, but he disregarded it for the moment).
"—it was Dick who recognized him and said we were to take him in immediately. Addams didn't have much room to disagree. We then insured our original witness was safely escorted to immediate medical aid, which is why Miss Martian is currently not with us." Kaldur gave Copperhead a curious look, like he couldn't understand how the man was worth all this. "So here we are."
"I always did hate that slimy little man," Frank muttered as he inserted the needle again, prompting Dick to clamp his teeth together. "Addams. Now there's a balmy bitc—"
"Thank you, Officer McGilvery, for the input, but let's try not to sully the name of our fellow law enforcers." Griffin's voice was stern, but her eyes shone with unspoken amusement. "And thank you, Aqualad, for your account. It's certainly good to know all the—" She glared pointedly at Dick, "—details."
Mm. Dick knew that look; he would definitely be receiving a lecture later.
To his left, he saw the uncharacteristically silent Artemis and Wally exchange eye contact, a silent conversation being spoken with their stares.
Then, with a nod from the archer, KF stepped forward and politely cocked his head in Griffin's direction,
"I mean no disrespect, commissioner, but you really shouldn't take this out on Detective Grayson." The speedster twitched when her weighted stare was suddenly fixed on him, but he pushed through. "In his defense, he really put Addams in his place, and—"
Artemis, as if sensing KF was about to run himself into the conversational ground, moved up beside him. "What my teammate is trying to say is, Grayson really advocated for Ida. He also," Here her lip curled back, as if disgusted by what she was about to say, "Saved her and I. He pushed us out of the way, and that's how he ended up getting injured."
Dick did not like the look on Griffin's face one bit. To the casual observer it might seem like a sociable smile, but he recognized her smug, self-congratulatory smirk for what it was.
Had she…..planned this? Whatever this was?
The commissioner held up a hand, effectively cutting of the archer's burgeoning tirade. "I don't blame Detective Grayson, though I'm sure he appreciates you sticking up for him." Again, that smug little grin. Just what was she playing at? "I am merely distressed that he refused aid. Again."
"He didn't refuse everything," Superboy broke his unofficial silence. "He let me carry him up here."
Griffin fixed the clone with an appraising look, "I suppose you are correct in that, Superboy." Then she glared at Dick again, "Though I have no doubt the only reason he accepted was because he could no longer physically hold himself up."
The detective tried for a charming grin, but it likely resembled a grimace instead. "Guilty as charged."
She rolled her eyes, but Dick saw the subtle twitch of her lips into a genuine smile. "We will have to discuss your behaviour later."
His chances of getting a sternly worded lecture were slowly diminishing. And, if he managed to walk out of here on his own two legs, maybe he could get out of one completely—
"Right, lad." Frank finished with his suturing, gently dabbing the now-stitched wound with an antibacterial swab. "I'm surprised you were allowed into the field at all, what with that gun graze you've got an yer arm."
Well. There went all hope of escaping a lecture. If anything, Frank had just inadvertently made the situation worse.
Dick quickly glanced up at the commissioner and—yeah, he was dead. The woman was staring at him so intently he was surprised he didn't burst into flames.
"His…what." Griffin leaned forward, an actual chill filling the room. Or maybe it was just Dick's nerves. With his survival instincts going haywire, he really couldn't tell.
Frank didn't even bother taking his eyes off the task at hand, "That there gun graze, from the Sniper fellow just yesterday. I fixed it up good, but I'm surprised you cleared 'im for active duty so soon after."
Griffin's presence seemed to silently expand as she smiled, the expression a frigid approximation of its actual meaning. "Oh. Curiouser and curiouser."
The older officer finally seemed to catch on to the situation at hand. He looked up at the commissioner, eyes widening as he took in her stance. "Ah. I take it then that he didn't…tell you…"
"Frank, dear," Griffins now resembled a crouching lioness, all tact and grace until the moment of kill presented itself. And Dick had no doubt over who she'd pounce for when the time came. "Would you please escort our lovely criminal guest to one of our more secure holding cells. I need to have a personal discussion with our mutual friend here."
Dick was a dead man walking.
(Technically sitting, but that was beside the point).
Frank shot the detective a quick frown, an apology clearly resting in the folds of his old face. Dick reassured the man with a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Then the officer was escorting a bored looking Copperhead out, the reptilian man hissing at the rough contact.
The door closed behind them, leaving Dick and the team alone with an extremely vengeful commissioner.
Call him dramatic, but It didn't look like any of them would be making it out alive.
(A/N): I LIVE!
Seriously tho, high school starting up again just about killed me. You almost lost you're beloved author, folks, but fortunately I'm still kickin ;P
This chapter is double the length of my usual one's to make up for my vanishing act (but it is also mostly unedited. i do not have the energy within myself to proof read it, sorry for any mistakes :d)
I am drowning in homework, but I love you all! Thanks for reading and have a great week!
~ASL