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Dick knew the bat-senses were never fully off. Never can be with what he did. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn't matter. People will still get hurt on your watch
Something Bruce had instilled in him from an early age is when things become overwhelming you focus on the facts. The details will come back in time but the main facts of the given situation need to stay with you, always.
You have a problem that needs to be solved?
Step one: What were the events that led you to your current situation? Just the facts.
Well Dick would say the first event that led to the predicament at hand was he was in Gotham. The next thing would be daring to enter a convenience store near the Narrows, not even in the Narrows but a few blocks away. Also on him. He should know better than to go into convenience stores in Gotham near the Narrows.
Step two: What is the most immediate thing that needs solving? Problems are often complex and require multiple solutions in order to achieve a resolution, try to prioritize them from most urgent to least urgent.
He would say the most urgent issue is the barrel of the gun he is looking down. It's not the first time, unfortunately. The almost equally urgent matter is that Damian is right behind him and is most definitely in the line of fire if he gets shot.
Step three: Solve the most immediate problem and go down your list. Keep your priorities straight. Plan according and take your time to avoid dumb mistakes.
That last bit may cause a few problems.
It sucks. The morning had started off so great. He was gonna have lunch with Damian and then they were supposed to meet up with the others (an assortment of sorts, it was put in the group chat but he wasn't sure who all would come) for what was supposed to be a night off and maybe a game of rooftop tag.
The weather had been awesome, the temperature was comfortable enough that you could wear a sweater if you wanted to or not, the sun was out, it wasn't raining or cloudy or windy. He naively thought that today would be great.
Ironically the only thought he could conjure while looking at the death machine was that if he was shot there was no way he could hang out with everyone this evening. It's odd what comes to mind when you're staring death in the face. He'd thought that he would have a more noble thought, or maybe he'd be trying to figure out how to get Damian at least out of the situation.
It was just the two of them and he knew Damian could take care of himself but… Damian was his brother. His little brother.
Dick tried to take stock of the situation as best as he could.
Step one: They entered the convenience store and neither of them had time to not be out in the open. Three guys entered wearing cheap Halloween masks and fired three consecutive rounds in the ceiling before telling everyone to get on their knees. Damian was directly behind him and Dick suspected had a knife in hand but couldn't do anything yet.
Step two: The eighteen year old in front of him. His hands are shaking, he's never shot anyone before and doesn't want to be here. Dick needs to not be so close, let alone in his direct line of fire. He is very aware that his body is soft where a bullet is not.
Step three: The kid doesn't want to do this. Maintain eye contact. He'll have a harder time doing anything if he's being watched. Also figure out how to push Damian behind any one of the shelves, put some distance between him and the gun. Somehow also protect the twenty or so other bystanders stuck in this store.
Dick tries to keep eye contact, this kid has green eyes, the fear is the brightest thing about them.
His eyes keep flickering between Dick and Damian. He jumps at every sound his buddies make as they have the clerk open the register for the money. Flinching with a gun is dangerous. He doesn't want this kid to accidentally kill someone, and he certainly doesn't want to be the one this kid accidentally kills.
Dick keeps his hands visible. They don't shake. He knows better than to panic in this situation. Childish things like panic were long trained out of him.
"Hey!" Someone shouts from behind him, this kid jumps again. It's only Dick's extensive training that keeps him from flinching at the sight. "Clean 'em out. C'mon we have to get out of here!"
He doesn't move other than to glance at the few other people kneeling a few feet away.
He's trying to figure out what to do. He's never done this before. This has to be his first time doing anything like this. Dick can't imagine how terrified he must be.
If he were Nightwing this would be the easiest thing. Take out the obvious threats from behind at the counter, they're obviously running the show, and tell this kid to stop hanging around jackasses so he doesn't ruin his life over something like this.
But he's not Nightwing. Not right now. Currently he is just Dick Grayson, a civilian with a few gadgets on him but nothing useful currently.
Dick measures each breath he takes. If shedding valuable gets the gun away from him then fine. It'll be easier to get the situation handled if he's not being threatened like this.
He watches someone stalk up to a Father and his incredibly young daughter and shake a grocery bag in front of him demanding his wallet and phone. She's not crying, she just clings to her Father's arm. It breaks Dick's heart a little. She definitely shouldn't be here.
Then he goes over to what may be a couple of brothers, late teens, and demands the same.
No one argues, no one makes a sound. They just shed whatever is on them hoping to be left alone.
It all happened fast. He can't remember why, just when.
Dick will need to watch the security footage, if there is any, to go back over the details.
What he can remember is slowly reaching back to attempt to push Damian just slightly further back, the guy with the grocery bag stomping over, and then being flat on his back.
There's something under him moving urgently, trying to get out from underneath him. A child crying, most likely that little girl he remembers, panicked shouting from customers and they goons trying to rob the place.
After that, it was all blurry.
Someone grabbing his hand, clinging to it really, their hands wet and sticky, which Dick remembers wanting to let go of desperately because he thought it was gross.
It wasn't an out of body experience. It was more like flipping through the radio. Catching glimpses of the songs playing while you attempt to find the channel you want to listen to.
He remembers Bruce showing up, looking slightly panicked and not being able to understand what he was saying. He remembers Jason reading to him but it was much calmer, Dick thinks it may have been Robin Hood, one of his childhood favorites that he'd gifted Jason at some point. He remembers Tim standing over him clearly unsure what to do, hands shaking before he collapses, burying his face in the blanket over Dick's legs, letting out the most gut wrenching sob Dick had ever heard.
He can remember Damian, emotion clear in his voice but much more level headed, demanding Dick not die because it would be embarrassing. There was also Barbara sitting next to him in the silence just holding his hand, squeezing occasionally so that Dick would squeeze back. And Cass, tapping different things in morse code on his leg that he couldn't decipher but recognized the pattern enough to know what she was doing.
Dick remember's lots of well wishes from friends who stopped by at random. Duke quietly whispering that he get better so Dick can teach him those moves like he'd promised. Steph bargaining that if he got better the next movie night she wouldn't judge whatever he picked and would just enjoy the movie and also make him a huge pancake breakfast.
It takes a while for him to come back to himself.
Slowly all the pieces come back in place.
His mind taking its sweet time becoming fully lucid. Huge chunks of days he knows are gone forever because he can't remember any of it.
"Are you sure? You can stay at the Manor, in fact we'd all prefer it if you did." Bruce argued for the third time that day.
Dick rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'll be fine. It'll be nice to be in my own space again. I'm not gonna go out okay? I just want to get my life put back together."
A whole month of hovering from his entire family had been exhausting. He was ready for the independence being discharged would grant him.
"Dick you were fatally injured. We are well within our right to be worried. And I don't think it's a good idea for you to be completely on your own. What if something happens?"
"You're right. I could spontaneously get shot in the chest again."
Bruce made a face. "That's not funny, and also not what I mean."
"I know." Dick sighed. "I have loved unprecedented amounts of time with all of you. I don't think you and I in particular have spent this much time together since I was a kid. All of the doctors have said I am fine, I am healing fine, my pain is more than manageable, and they have also told me I can continue on with most of my regular activities. There were even a couple of physical therapists who confirmed it. If I need help- I have plenty of options."
"Hn." Obviously Bruce was not okay with this but had long decided Dick was more stubborn than him.
Dick, of course, was under no impression he was truly going to be left alone for a while. He wholy expected a variety of stalkers keeping watch from outside until he was fully on his feet, and then some. But being allowed to sleep in his own bed, eat his own food, and generally speaking do his own thing was just too enticing.
Everyone had been put through the wringer while he'd been here and he refused to burden everyone anymore. He was going to return to his own apartment and get back to his life.
"Fine." Bruce conceded. "But I will drive you back."
Dick scoffed lightly. "Okay."
He saw Damian later that evening. Dick had been trying to talk to Damian about the whole ordeal. He'd been the hardest to convince that he was going to be fine when it was all over. The whole scene likely burned into Damian's memory
Outside of Bruce, Damian had been around the most. Dick knew it'd scared Damian, made him feel completely out of control. Dick hated doing that to the kid. He wanted to make sure Damian was really okay but- he refused to talk.
"Father tells me you will return home tomorrow. Alone." Damian's voice catches on alone. If Dick didn't know him so well he wouldn't have caught it.
He nodded, slowly. "I am. It'll be nice to get back to normal again."
"What is normal for us?"
Dick laughed lightly. "Fair. I'll be fine Dami, don't worry about me."
Damian bit his lip. "I will stay with you."
He sighed. "No Damian. You're going to stay at home. Bruce needs you. I will be fine. I'll have plenty of people checking in on me."
"It's non negotiable Grayson. I will stay with you for ten days."
"Ten days? Why ten?"
"You are supposed to continue physical therapy for ten more days. I will stay with you for the duration."
"You hate my apartment."
Damian furrowed his eyebrows. "I do not hate your apartment. I will be fine there for ten days. You need me there."
"Damian," Dick took Damain's fist into his hand. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry you got caught in all of that, that you had to see all of that. I need you to know it was not your fault I got shot, I do not blame you for any of it."
The eye contact was intense but Dick held it, could see the different things that Damian clearly wanted to say but couldn't articulate. Damian's fist shook in his hands.
"I-" His voice caught. "I, uh- I know it wasn't my fault you were hurt. But you could've died. I can't help but feel like it would've been my fault if that did happen. They got away, I didn't get them."
The lack of evidence as to who the gunmen were had been a point of contention for everyone. From the moment Dick had been able to remember any of the details the hunt had been on with no luck at all. He knew that when Damian wasn't with him he was looking for the kid that shot him.
"He didn't mean to shoot me." Dick tells him.
"You can't know that for certain." Damian replied, his voice tight.
"You were right behind me. You saw him. He did not want to shoot me. He didn't want to shoot anyone. He didn't even want to be there."
"Regardless, he was. He injured you, and he helped steal four hundred dollars from that clerk. He is obviously running in the wrong circles. They all need to be apprehended. This cannot be dismissed."
"It can by you."
Damian blinked. "N-no. I need to catch him."
"Dami you're too close. Too emotional. Let Bruce handle it, with Tim and Jason. They can."
"They didn't let him go. I did. They didn't let you get shot. I did."
Dick sucked in a breath. Time for a different card. "You did not let me get shot." He repeated for the second time that night. "Yes he shot me, and yes had malice intent. No I don't think he intended to kill me, but you were not involved in his decision. You are not the reason he shot me. You are not the reason I got shot at all. And you know what else?"
Damian eyed him closely. "What?"
"I've forgiven him. It's not worth holding on to all of that."
The look on Damian's face read insulted and confused. "Why? Why are you letting him get away with it? Dismissing what he did?"
"That's not- when you forgive someone it's not about dismissing their actions or letting them off of the hook. It's about accepting the situation as it is and moving forward without it. Not forgetting, just leaving it where it belongs. In the past."
"That is not what forgiving someone is."
"Yes it is. Forgiving someone who wronged you is not you saying the actions they took are okay, it's not you saying you're forgetting about, it's not even you saying that you're gonna trust them. When you forgive someone, you are simply stating that you are not letting it hold you down, you are releasing yourself of the burden and letting it be. Not letting yourself get dragged down with it."
Damian didn't seem entirely convinced but also didn't appear to have a counter argument. Dick considered it a win, for now.
"You can stay for seven days." Dick told him.
"Nine."
"Seven."
"Nine."
"Seven."
"Tt, fine."
Dick smiled.
Seven days would still be too much but… it was probably too much to expect Damian to go for anything less.
We will wrap up this short arch with Damian tomorrow. Also sorry for such a late post. Work keeps my busy sometimes
