Never before did I ever CONSIDER something like this in terms of Dick Grayson, but after getting curious about a couple of stories on Archive of Our Own, and unsure if there are any of the sorts here on FF, I went ahead and did a variation of my own while keeping the essence.
Concept, which some of you could be familiar with: it's another character who got shot through the spine by Joker in TKJ, not Barbara.
For sensitive readers and those who have suffered trauma of any kind or know someone who has: forced stripping, unwanted touches, triggering content of nearly every sort. If you don't want to read it, no one's making you. If only I and others were capable of physically hugging as an apology.
All Batman characters and stories belong to DC, but I own the OC. The AO3 stories I was inspired by are "Clipping Wings" by A1batross (part one of the "The Joke That Killed" series) and "When One Door Opens" by orphan_account.
Chapter One
The Flying Days Are Over
Jason Todd saw red from the moment he got the call from Bruce, and he was still seeing red up until the time he finally rushed to the hospital.
Batman was already at the hospital but told him to come as his civilian identity. With mad speed whilst keeping to the law limits, he arrived in no time and demanded what room the patient on his mind was in; before, he'd hysterically called Kris and told her that he needed her there, and her dad if Jonathan was available.
They wouldn't be allowed in right away, however, because they weren't direct family. But Jason needed them most.
The thought was with him from the moment he got the call, on the ride atop his motorcycle that HE paid for with his own money he'd earned part-time when he burst through Gotham General's doors only to be swamped with Kristine Crane's embrace and her father's hand on his shoulder - the psychologist told him that it would be best if Jason not do anything he shouldn't at this time, anything that would get him killed, since he understood this pain more than just as a doctor - and up to sitting at the side of the one laying immobile in that bed, pitifully laying beneath white blankets and sheets, head wrapped neatly with mummy's bandages, IV and other needles stuck into the veins, and the EKG monitoring heart activity.
Jason had been out of breath and shape when he arrived, ignoring the intimidating figure in black and Detective Bullock who waited for the patient to wake up any moment now as it had been over an hour since he'd come out of surgery. Jason's ears buzzed with white noise, but he heard everything loud and clear, all the same, the instincts always with him since his days in the Crime Alley streets.
"...single bullet through the spine, above the pelvic area...extracted successfully..."
But despite the miracle news of survival, a grim fate awaited the young man as soon as he would wake up: he would NEVER walk again. From the waist down, he had lost that ability, and his chances seemed impossible. The doctor who had been here before Jason showed up had tested the patient's senses by prodding his heels with a needle to get some reaction, and came up with nothing.
If the teenager's blood wasn't lava enough before, it was reaching the new heights of hell's flames. He collapsed into the chair beside the bed, slumping forward and putting his head in his hands. "D-Dick," he gasped, throat twisting with dehydration following. "Oh, God, Dickie..."
If only it was just them and their father, and without that goddamned bat costume. But Jason ignored him in favor of looking upon the face that was relaxed due to heavy sedation and would change drastically to anguish the boy knew would haunt his dreams for the unforeseeable future.
Dick Grayson, the original Robin, first Boy Wonder now called Nightwing, the last of the Flying Graysons, had been shot and paralyzed possibly for life.
"Barbara's gone, too. She was with him when it happened."
He jerked his head up and stared at Bullock. "Barb, too?! Who did this?" he demanded, almost shouting until he caught the narrowing of eyes behind the cowl as the warning to shut up, but it was then that they heard the sounds of coughing and grunting.
Dick was waking up.
Numbly, Jason was distracted with the memory of the very first time he saw this man, back when he was still a child and one of the rare good moments he ever had with his father, when Willis took him to Haly's Circus - and where the beauty of the Flying Graysons enchanted him, especially their young son with his legendary quadruple somersault...
But no more. No more Nightwing, either. And there was only one person to blame, as well as the one indirectly responsible. Jason was sorely tempted to chew the man out if not for Jim Gordon's partner being in their presence. Instead, he reached for his brother's hand and looped his fingers through them. Dick wasn't there full-time for him, but when he was, he was nothing short of a beacon unlike in their hostile beginning.
Now the little brother was being put in that role. Everything was being reversed. But if he could look after his mother before her death, then he could try and help Dick get through this.
He prayed Barbara was okay if that clown hadn't done anything to her yet.
You're gonna pay this time, Joker...and Arkham is too good for you.
~o~
Why?! Why, why, why, whywhywhywhy WHY?!
The word repeated itself over and over in his head as he lay where he had fallen, the nightmare within the middle of his body keeping him lying there, helpless to do anything except try to pull the bullet out from where it lodged; the terror gnawed at him in that it had to be deep within his spine and would no doubt kill him unless that wasn't the Joker's idea.
"...wouldn't worry yet...performer won't be swinging off the bars and ropes...seems remote..."
The words were shut on and off in between the red bursts in Dick's vision, and when they died down, he could only see black. He didn't have the willpower to open his eyelids, not even when he heard Barbara's cries of pain as she was punched through by the thugs who joined in on the "joke". But what the clown said next made them burst open as something inside Dick snapped, his body joining when he tried sitting upright only to howl at the electrical snap and sparks from the severed hole in his vertebrae: "- the commissioner's princess is top billing. Just filling in for Daddy. Too bad he couldn't be here as planned."
So, Dick was here at the wrong place at the wrong time. At first, he had thought the bastard figured out they were Nightwing and Batgirl, but he had ideas for Babs and her dad, and HE was just unlucky.
"B-Bar -" he choked out, vocabulary failing him, and flinching when gloved fingers found their way to wipe the tears from the right side of his face, before going to comb through his hair. The touch was just as violating as the torture.
"Oh, boy, shush now. Shouldn't have moved after all that. You just made it worse for your pretty little self." A click of the tongue. "Too bad you got caught up in all of this. It was supposed to be for the old man with his daughter having a distant part to play, but not everything goes as planned, does it? Now little Barbie has to be in place of her daddy's debut, though unfortunately...there's no room for the disabled."
Dick forced himself to glare up into those demonic eyes. "Why are you doing this?" he hissed, clenching his teeth together as the bleached man reached over him upon spotting something - and soon enough, in those fingers was the little box he'd showed Barbara just before the doorbell rang. Handmade birch wood the size of Dick's palm, the lid engraved with the letters D and B with a heart between them.
Joker whistled when he took in the details as well as what was inside: both being silver, the man's ring having grooves based upon the blowing wind, and the woman's dainty with architectural ridges between dazzling round stones to match. "Hoo-hoo, I interrupted a proposal, didn't I, Dickie boy?" he cackled before putting on a mockery of guilt. "If I'd known, I would have brought flowers -" Then his eyes lit up again. "Oh, no, wait, I did, but that will have to wait. First things first..."
Sky blue eyes widened in unbridled horror when equally horrible fingers flew over the buttons of his white collared shirt, starting at the bottom and reaching the top, both hands yanking the fabric apart to expose all of Dick's torso, all of which earned whistles. "Lucky girl, she is - or was. If you weren't striving at the police academy, I'd say you were better off winning on GQ covers." Dick tried to growl, hating that Nightwing, hero of both Bludhaven and Gotham, had been reduced to this.
"St-stop." He wasn't going to beg with "please", because no villain ever caved in to that word. He wouldn't give his tormentor the satisfaction, but nothing fazed Joker.
His heart was wild from the moment he got the magnum shot, trying to jump out of the way and failing, and now it picked up by the time he was still laying on the floor where the glass coffee table had been shattered. Stripped completely naked, blood pouring underneath him and drying in the outer rings.
Was - was Richard Grayson, the first Robin, going to be RAPED right here, in the Gordons' apartment while Barbara was -?!
"Say cheese, gorgeous!"
He winced when the blinding white light flashed before his eyes; he jerked his head off to the opposite to avoid it. He thought it would stop there, but how wrong he was. As long as he'd fought against the Joker as Batman's sidekick, neither of them ever thought the clown could be capable of something like this.
He tried to twist his body in that direction he now faced, wanting to escape into himself, but he could only succeed with his still-functional torso, wrapping an arm around his abdomen where his wound was. Then there was the sound of the camera clicking, followed by another flash and a catcall. Damn it, and he didn't think Joker wouldn't be the latest to make an obscene remark about his "damn fine ass". "Talk about bouncing off a quarter, sonny!"
~o~
The pain was still there when he roused from the deep darkness. It wasn't as controlling as before, but remnants remained just below his stomach...and the ghosts of fingers where they should NOT be.
The flood of memories before his eyes made him snap them open all the way, his mind too wild to fully process everything except one thing:
"BARB - BARBARA!"
He saw the ceiling first, and then the two figures to his left. Jason and Bruce in bat gear were there. The older man's expression was somber as could be, but you could feel the gravity of his guilt and pain over what happened to his former sidekick and ward. His little brother's face was sheer relief, but underneath that was a storm, which told Dick he was having vengeful thoughts towards whoever did this to him -
"Dick," Jason demanded, "we know who did this to you, and he's gonna get it good." His hand was holding Dick's from the moment he woke up and continued to keep its place. Yet the warmth did nothing to soothe Dick as he unleashed everything in a go. He didn't have to be told about his condition, since he couldn't move his legs as it was, knowing before he could be told by the absent doctor, but at the moment, nothing mattered except the one he had wanted to be his wife.
Batman loomed over, casting his shadow completely over Dick's eyes. His low, authoritative timbre was as soft as he could make it. "Richard, what about Barbara? What happened?"
"He-he's going above and beyond!" Dick gasped, feeling himself tremble from the waist down as he could not keep the flashes from the back of his retinas, the skittishness of gloved digits over his naked body in between the shots, the mocking jokes... "Barbara - he said she was top -" He struggled to remember the exact words as his agony rendered his hearing on and off, but knowing the clown's ways, or so he thought, then it hit him hard:
Joker said she was "top billing" when her father should have been.
And speaking of her father, James Gordon burst right on in but composed himself upon seeing his daughter's boyfriend wide awake and very much vulnerable. His jaw tightened with anger before it softened. While his daughter was in danger, he chose to be here for the other man she loved.
Batman vowed to find her, then told Jason - more like ordered - to stay here with his brother who needed him. And just like that, good old Dark Knight style, he was gone when no one was looking.
"Dick," was all Jason could say as if trying to control himself within these walls.
"Stupid question for me to ask, but how you holding up now, son?" Gordon asked with sorrow reflected through his spectacles. He walked around to the opposite side so that Dick had both of them around him, but as soon as the man's gentle but calloused hand touched his shoulder, it seemed as if the shock brought forth the memories he wished he could bleach from his mind.
Memories of his pleas to the clown to stop touching him as he was forced flat onto his back again, after the humiliating snapshots of his buttocks; if he said it didn't get worse than that, he would be lying. Next, Joker had used both hands to force his legs apart and expose what was between them. The tears had flowed in thicker streams down the sides of Dick's face, brought on by the living nightmare in which his spotlessly trimmed pubic area encircled the base of his flaccid manhood. He'd choked out a screaming "No!" but was ignored as always, receiving whistling laughter.
"Spend time at a grooming salon for this, or do you manage yourself, Dickie boy? Oi, don't answer; best to leave that to the imagination, eh? What am I saying? Point is you're all ready for the bride-to-be, so let's get you ready for the next part of the slideshow memories."
Not just the many photographs taken and the various exposures of every inch of his accessible areas, but FLOWERS had been tossed at him to give color and as a mockery of an engagement announcement. Lush green succulents that had been snatched from the botanical gardens, romantic red rose petals, purple hyacinths - courtesy of the Clown Prince of Crime - and calla lilies which he'd called "the fairest of them all", but were also commonly included at funerals.
Recalling all of that as well as feeling Jim's touch on his shoulder made him break entirely. He didn't care if he was sedated or not, because everything crashed down on him in an instant.
Dick Grayson wailed, sobbed, and screamed all in one. Everything was together in a concoction of damnation: Barbara had been taken, and who knew what Joker and his thugs were doing to her while Bruce went on the hunt.
He couldn't move his legs, much less feel them, but he knew that their use might never be what it was, and he didn't need to be told since he could just imagine it.
Nightwing was dead, and so was the ability that his parents gave him. It was a fate worse than death.
He wished he could have a reprieve so that he didn't have to spend the rest of his life useless in a wheelchair.
This was...extremely hard to write. Dick Grayson AKA Nightwing, the light energy to Batman's dark side, didn't deserve this shit, just as he didn't deserve what's happened to him a lot of times in the comics. And if anyone is wondering whether or not Joker will get a bullet through the head by Jason or someone, wait and see. ;D
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