Rushing through the hospital, Bruce Wayne finds himself doing something that he hadn't done in years: praying. He had still been at work when Alfred had called him.
"Sir, Master Dick has been in an accident!"
Those words had chilled him to his bones. He had always known that pain and suffering could accompany the life that they lived as the Dynamic Duo, but he had hoped that a safety shield would remain around their private lives. He should have known better.
Reaching the nurse's station, Bruce waves at the nurse to get her attention.
"My…ward was just brought in here. Dick Grayson. Where is he?"
Looking down at her computer screen, the nurse with the nametag of Alice, glanced up once she had found the information.
"He's still in emergency. The doctor is with him now," she replies, pointing the way toward the emergency section.
Nodding his head, Bruce rushes off down another hall. Finding the hall opening up into another nurse's station, he walked up to the counter.
"I'm looking for Dick Grayson," Bruce says. "He was just brought in."
"He's with the doctor right now," a nurse answers him. "If you'll take a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly."
Clenching his hands in frustration, Bruce glanced behind him to see two rows of seats. Knowing he would never be able to sit down, Bruce paced the floor. Minutes seemed like hours. About ready to lose his patience, Bruce strides back toward the nurse's station, just as a middle aged woman with a white coat steps through a set of swinging doors. Glancing around the room, her eyes settle on Bruce.
"Mr. Grayson?" she asks.
"I'm Bruce Wayne, Dick's guardian."
Nodding her head, she points toward a side office and then waits for Bruce to enter the room. Sitting down behind her desk, she takes off her glasses and rubs the bridge of her nose.
"When can I see Dick?" Bruce asks.
"I have a couple of orderlies settling your ward into a room in the Intensive Care section. Once he's settled you can see him, though he won't know that you are there."
"What do you mean? What's his condition?" demands Bruce.
"Dick was in a motorcycle accident. He struck a car and the momentum sent him over the roof and down onto the pavement. He's lucky to be alive," she explains.
"But what's his condition?" repeats Bruce, getting worried that the woman wouldn't answer him straight out.
"He sustained a massive head trauma, even though he had been wearing a helmet," the doctor explains. "Your ward is in a coma."
"When will he wake up?" questions Bruce, rising from his seat to pace around the office.
"I don't know," she replies softly, then hesitates. "It's possible that he won't ever wake up."
"Not acceptable," replies Bruce, shaking his head. "He has to wake up."
Closing her eyes, the doctor pinches the bridge of her nose once more before opening her eyes to face the upset man before her.
"I will do what I can," she says, rising from her chair. "But you may want to contact whatever family he has."
Shaking his head, Bruce leaves the office behind. Blinking wetness from his eyes, Bruce heads for the Intensive Care section.
How did this happen? he wonders.