His hand closed around a sleek metal cylinder just as his name died out. Got it! Ripping his arm clear of his luggage, he bolted for the door. It was open, and he erupted into the night. Yanking the pin, he pointed the nozzle at the bundle of fur barreling towards him and pulled the trigger.

It's not working, a terror-laden certainty echoed in his head as the creature kept on coming forward. It's not working! Something knocked into his shoulder – it was impossible to tell if it was the bear or his brother, everything was too close together now – and sent him stumbling sideways. He stayed on his feet, but he was now in the wrong position to keep up his attack. "Dick!"

Only the light beaming out from the other man's forehead allowed him to see what was going on. Pushed out of the action momentarily, he tried to process the mad scene before him. The bear had slid to a halt only inches from the tent as the pepper spray started to take effect. It was still making awful popping and huffing sounds, though, and there was no question that it might resume its assault at any second. On the other side of the creature stood Dick, still just as battered as when they'd gone to bed but now wearing Nightwing's signature 'bring it' grin. His crutch sat lightly in his hands, ready for action, and Tim suddenly knew what was about to happen.

The length of wood slashed across the bear's face, sending a splatter of blood into the dirt. A roar of protest rang out, overwhelming the ongoing prairie-dog chatter behind them. The noise was terrible, loud enough at close quarters to make their eardrums ache and so laden with certain death that Tim would have sworn he felt some primordial part of his brain shrivel up in horror.

Dick didn't falter, however. Instead he struck again, and then a third time. His makeshift staff broke, a short piece of the end flying off into the night as he came around for a fourth blow. Finally his adversary began to retreat, pawing at its own face as it gave another dinning bellow. Not one to be outdone by the instigator of an unprovoked attack, Dick screamed right back. He couldn't produce the same decibel level as the bruin, of course, but there was a warning in his tone that made even the yipping rodent chorus pause for a moment.

Yeah, an unbidden smirk slipped onto Tim's face. That's right. We might be beaten up, stuck in the middle of nowhere, and on a suicide mission, but that doesn't mean we're easy pickings. Spurred on by his brother's defense, he let out an answering yell and straightened his arm in front of himself once more. The bear fell back another pace, putting itself at risk of a second spraying. He obliged it, aiming straight for the beady eyes and already-dripping nose that might have been pathetic were it not for the crushing, toothed jaw below. Take that!

It was enough; more than enough, perhaps. Turning tail, the predator fled into the darkness, leaving a trail of snot, blood, and wounded cries in its wake. Their light, which suddenly seemed very feeble for its inability to flood the entire plain with brightness, followed the animal as far as possible. When it seemed that the bear had truly gone, the beam turned onto him. "Timmy...are you okay?"

"Yeah!" he responded eagerly, still high on adrenalin. "Yeah, I'm..." All of the warning systems that had been silenced by pure survival instinct came back on at the same time, and he trailed off. That...that was...bear...jesus... "Oh, holy shit, Dick," he whispered, his voice now shaking. "I mean...that...we...holy shit." We just fought a bear, and we didn't die. We didn't die. We didn't die!

"Yeah..." The other man's words were no steadier than his own had been, a fact for which Tim was distantly grateful. "'Holy shit' about...about sums it up. But, um..." Dick scrubbed his hand across his mouth as if he was trying to unknot his lips. "You're...how are you?"

"Uhhh..." He managed to push his trembling aside long enough to run a quick assessment of his well-being. "I'm lucky I don't need to change my pants," he replied, "and I've never been more happy that we live in the twenty-first century, where we have chemistry to back up our sticks, but other than that I'm...I'm okay?" He hadn't meant the last part as a question, but once it had come out as one he realized that it was apt. "...I need to sit down."

"Ditto. Not here, though. The spray…"

"Yeah." The stuff was lingering exactly the way it was supposed to, and while that might be good to keep the bear away it was starting to make his eyes tingle unpleasantly. "Around back?"

"Around back."

They stumbled around the tent, then turned back-to-back, linked arms, and lowered themselves to the dirt. Tim was still clutching the pepper spray, and he had seen Dick's fingers gripping the stick as they'd walked, but their weapons were little comfort now that they couldn't see the enemy. Leaning against his brother, he could feel both of their hearts racing as their bodies processed the shock they'd just been through. "...Okay," he said after a minute. "So...we almost died tonight. That's...that's cool."

"Heh. Heheh. Heheheheheh..."

Eyes narrowing, he tried to crane his neck to see what the laughter was about. "Uh...are you cracking up back there?"

"It was just...just the way you said that," Dick half-giggled, half-moaned. "So sarcastic, but...but not, because we totally did almost...almost...you know." He sobered. "Die. Just now. God, if you hadn't popped out with the spray when you did...what took so damn long, anyway?!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Tim protested his innocence. "I couldn't see, I had to grope through my bag looking for it!" Anger began to mount, replacing the slowly-dissipating fear in his veins. "I went as fast as I could!"

"...You couldn't see?"

"Obviously, it's the middle of the night!" Duh, he barely bit back.

"Timmy, you put our headlamps in the hanging basket specifically so that they would be easy to reach!"

"I-" The awful truth of that statement hit him. It was right above me. Right there. I can't believe this... "...I'm an idiot."

Dick just laughed again. The ireful heat that had been building between them cooled in an instant, leaving only their usual loving warmth behind. "You didn't exactly have much time to stop and think about it. Besides, we survived, so...I forgive you." The last was said teasingly, and Tim felt an elbow nudge his ribs. "Nice shots with that spray, by the way."

"I'm not even sure I hit him right the first time."

"If you hadn't I'd be headless about now, so...you must have pegged him good."

He shuddered and changed the subject. "How did you know he was out here? I didn't even wake up until you said my name."

"Your early warning system went off."

He wrinkled his nose. "My what?"

"Your early warning system. Your prairie dog pals."

"...Huh?!"

"One of their sentries started barking, and it set off the others. It woke me up, and since they seemed pretty agitated and I don't speak prairie dog I figured I'd better get up and see what was going on. I thought it might be another big quake on the way, so I didn't want to wander far from the tent, but the headlamp showed me all I needed to see. That big old brute must have come in after whatever we weren't able to clean up of the spilled stew, I guess. He was following our path to here when I spotted him."

"Damn it...this is my fault," Tim griped. Remembering his worry about bleeding in the tent during the aftershock, his guilt grew. "My knees were dripping the whole way from here to the lake earlier. He must have been tracing the blood trail."

"Maybe he was, sure. Or maybe we're giving off some sort of 'injured' odor that we have no control over, and he followed that. Heck, he might have just been going for the prairie dogs, and we got in the way. It could even be that my light ticked him off, or he's just out of whack from all of the shaking. What matters," Dick ruffled his hair without turning around, "is that we're alive, and no worse for the wear except for minor heart attacks."

"…Yeah. You're right." He was, but there was something about what he'd said a moment before that Tim couldn't shake. "The prairie dogs...look, this is going to sound really stupid, but...you don't really think this has something to do with my rescuing that one earlier, do you?" He'd read enough about the animals of the western plains before the trip to know that the social rodents were far from stupid, but the idea of them having a well-enough developed sense of reciprocity to feel that they needed to alert the nearby humans about a bear disturbed him. "You would think that they would normally just tell each other and then all slip into their holes and shut up, wouldn't you?"

"I would, but...things are weird around here right now. Who knows how screwed up some of the animals have been made by the quakes and the force field? Although...they did kind of feel like they were cheering for us when we were beating the bear up, didn't they?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "They kind of did."

"And they're quiet now. Maybe...I don't know, honestly, Timmy. As awesome as it would be if I got to say after this that my little brother has the power to command prairie dogs to do his bidding, I just don't know why they reacted like they did. Sorry."

"It's okay," he shrugged. "It was a ridiculous question; I just needed to ask it anyway. But...commanding prairie dogs to do my bidding? Really?"

"It would be awesome!"

"'Awesome'? That's one of the worst superpowers I've ever heard!"

"Aww...but you could have an adorable fuzzy army at your disposal! Only to be used for good, of course, but still, can you imagine that? Any villain who thought going underground was clever would soon see the error of his ways, that's for sure."

"Sure," Tim rolled his eyes. "And then we'll get Bruce an air force of bats, you can run the elephant cavalry, and Damian...I don't know, we'll give him the hippo marine or something."

"I am really glad he didn't hear you say that. The hippo marine, seriously?"

"Hey, hippos are the deadliest animals in Africa other than mosquitoes, and I am not suggesting that we give him a swarm of insects. I figured he'd like hippos."

"...You have a point. I think he'd like how they can go from lackadaisical to lethal at the drop of a hat. But I refuse to use elephants in battle, it's too cruel."

"But battle's not too cruel for the other animals, huh?"

"Well...maybe it is. But they aren't elephants. I've seen elephants cry, and it's the saddest thing in the universe. Somehow I don't think the tears of a hippo would move me quite as much."

"No, you're probably right. You're definitely an elephantyphile."

"Mmm...elephantyphile...you know, I think I'll put that on my business cards from now on."

"Can't wait to see Bruce's face when you tell him that plan."

"Yeah..." A heavy sigh sounded. "Poor guy. Let's never, ever tell him what happened tonight, okay? Can we make that deal?"

Tim could picture the deathly pallor the billionaire's face would reach if he heard that they'd fought off a charging bear with some pepper spray and a walking stick. "Deal."

"Good." Dick yawned. "...We need more sleep. We can't hike tomorrow if we're exhausted, and we've got to get a move on towards the falls."

"Agreed, but...what if the bear comes back?" Maybe – just maybe – the prairie dogs had decided they owed him one a little while ago, but that didn't mean that they'd pipe up if the predator returned.

"We'll run it like a watch. Two hour shifts, one person sleeping, one out here with a headlamp watching. Sound good?"

It wasn't great, but it was the best option they had, so he nodded. "Yeah. But you're sleeping first."

"No, you can go ahead."

"No," he said firmly. "You found the bear, you fought the bear, and frankly I don't know how you're going to stand up and watch for two minutes with a too-short crutch. You're sleeping first."

"Well...okay. But I'm setting my watch to go off in two hours, so don't think that you're going to leave me in there the whole rest of the night."

"Why would you think I would do that? I'm tired, too." It was actually exactly what he intended to do, but he pretended otherwise in the hopes of allaying suspicion and still pulling the trick off. You need to rest more than I do, he thought. You're worse hurt. I can manage.

"I know you would do that, because if I was the first one on guard it's what I would try and do."

"…Oh," he blushed. "I guess we'll be passing your watch back and forth for the rest of the night then, huh?"

Dick laughed. "Sure, little brother. We'll do that. Here," he passed his stick over. "Hold onto this for me, just in case you need it."

"Thanks. Hey, dig out that other bear spray and put it up with the headlamp before you lay down, would you?" The last thing he wanted was a repeat of his earlier fumbling in the event that the bear made another sally into camp.

"You bet."

"Great. Here, I'll help you to the front and start my rounds from there."

"Thanks."

Linking elbows again, they pushed each other upwards with matching groans. When they reached the tent flap, Tim let the other man down slowly. "…Good?"

"Good. You?"

"Good enough."

"Nah, you're way better than good enough," Dick winked. "You're stellar."

The compliment made him smile. "Thanks."

"Hey, it's the truth."

"Yeah, well…get some sleep, okay?"

"Definitely. Holler if you need me, though."

"I will. Good night."

Night, Timmy." He stretched, then slid back into the inky depths of the shelter. "See you in a couple hours."

There was a rustle as Dick searched for the second can of pepper juice, and then a little 'ah-ha!' when he found it. A minute later all was silent save the low sound of Tim's own circling footfalls and the occasional squeak from the direction of the prairie dog colony. A couple of hours, huh? He smirked. Not if I can help it. Once the older man had had time to slip into deep sleep, he would slither inside long enough to cancel his alarm. See you in the morning, big brother.