Dick takes a quick look around before leaning heavily against the cold wall of the alley. His fingers tremble as he reaches up and wraps his left hand around the arrow and his heart hammers in anticipation of the pain. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth and closes his eyes. Two deep breaths, then he tightens his grip and-
"Don't pull it out you idiot!"
Dick's eyes snap open and he jumps and lets go of the arrow, hissing as the bolt is jostled. He knows the voice, and it makes him frown. "Well what would you suggest?" he gets out between panting breaths.
A figure drops from the low rooftop across the alley. "Not that. You'll bleed to death. Or the shaft will break off and you'll have an arrowhead stuck in your shoulder, which, trust me, isn't good."
Dick lets out a sigh. Roy's probably the authority on this one.
"Fine."
"Good," Roy says. "Now let's get you the hell out of here."
"And what about the madman with the bow and arrow?" Dick says, then adds, "Well, the other madman with the bow and arrow."
"He can wait. You're no good like this," Roy says, ignoring the quip.
"Then I'll hang out here while you go stop him. He went that way."
Roy lets out a soft snort. "Yeah. Not a chance, Bird Boy." He takes a step closer, bending his head this way and that to get a good look at the wound.
Dick rolls his eyes, scowling at the nickname. "I'll be fine, Speedy," he fires back. "Look, thanks for the help but I gotta go. I have to figure this-" He gestures at the arrow with a scowl. "-bullshit out."
"Aaand what's your plan, exactly?"
He definitely doesn't have one but he's not gonna tell Roy that. "I know first-aid."
"Yeah, for dislocated shoulders and small cuts. What are you gonna do about that arrow?"
Dick stares at him for a moment, jaw clenched, and then sighs. "I can't go to the hospital, obviously. And I…I really don't want B to know about this. Not now, anyway, he's got that thing coming up…"
"Yeah, well, lucky for you, I know someone with even more experience with arrows than me! And he still owes you one for that time you covered for him at the gala after he-well, you remember."
A memory of a tipsy Oliver Queen knocking down an entire champagne tower flashes through Dick's mind and he snorts. "That is for damn sure."
Roy smirks a little and looks up, but now that he's close Dick can see his face clearly. Furrowed brow, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, mouth drawn into a tight line.
"What're you not telling me, Roy?" Dick breathes, his voice low.
"You're gonna have a hard time getting to his place with that sticking out of your shoulder." He looks up at Dick with a pinched, almost apologetic expression. "I can make it a little more manageable but I don't think you're gonna like it."
Dick can see where this is going. He closes his eyes and smiles tightly, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth. He pops one eye open and levels it at Roy. "Didn't you just say it was a bad thing to break the shaft off?"
"This'll be a controlled break." Roy glances over his shoulder, and it's obvious he's avoiding eye contact even if he pretends to be looking for baddies. "The guy who shot you could still be out there waiting for his second chance, Dick. So you've gotta stay quiet. Can you handle this?" His expression is more apologetic than his words.
Dick nods quickly, standing straighter against the alley wall. "Yeah. Do it."
Roy returns the nod and presses his left hand against Dick's shoulder, so two fingers are on either side of the arrow. Dick lets out a small gasp as the arrow is jostled. He can feel blood trickling down his hand and fingers, and he focuses on the sensation, on his breathing. Anything but the pain.
"Are you sure?"
"Do it," Dick all but hisses, and clenches his jaw as tight as he can.
The agony that comes a second later is enough to make his vision go dark, and then he's vaguely aware of someone touching him-a firm hand on his chest, another cupping his face.
"Hm?" he manages, lifting a heavy head from where it had apparently tipped down.
"Hey," Roy says and lets out a sigh of relief that's almost a laugh. "Hey, you went out on me for a second. You good?"
Dick responds with a hum. It's another second before he can form coherent words. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. I'm good, just…" His stomach lurches suddenly and he bends forward, wrapping his good arm around his middle. "I'm gonna be sick," he mumbles, and Roy barely moves his feet out of the way before he's vomiting in the alley.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy Bird Boy!" Roy's voice is surprisingly gentle, and he doesn't even say anything about Dick nearly vomiting on his shoes, just puts a hand on the small of his back.
"'m okay," Dick says, though he's starting to seriously doubt that. He spits in an attempt to get the taste of bile out of his mouth, then straightens up, trying not to look as embarrassed as he feels. He's pretty sure he hasn't thrown up since Jason got him hammered on pina coladas and strawberry margs on taco night a few years back. He shudders at the memory and wipes his arm across his mouth. "Let's move."
"You don't look so hot," Roy says slowly.
"I'm hot," Dick says, trying to smile. "The hottest. Mr. Freeze is lucky he's not around, my very presence would turn him into a puddle. Can we go?"
Roy chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, okay, Hot Man. Let's go."
Dick is relieved that Roy doesn't argue with him. He just wants to get out of here and lay down somewhere dark and warm and comfortable, maybe a hot shower…Oh and getting this arrow out of his shoulder would be nice.
Unfortunately, his body doesn't care what he wants, and before he has a chance to follow Roy it makes that loudly, painfully, known.
xxx
He barely takes two steps before there's a strangled cry and a thump behind him and Roy stops in his tracks, whirling back around.
"Nightwing?...Oh my god."
Dick Grayson is on the ground and something…something is really wrong. His neck and back are arched, jaw clenched, and his arms and legs are stiff and he's letting out high, guttural sounds and Roy tries not to panic because he's pretty sure this is a seizure and while bows and arrows he can handle, this is way out of his element.
"Hang in there," he says, kneeling down next to Grayson. He knows enough to know that he's not supposed to put anything in his mouth, or restrain him in any way, so he just stays there on the cold asphalt and tries not to panic as he reaches for the burner he keeps on him for emergencies. He's just about to dial when Grayson's body suddenly relaxes.
"Wh-wha-" He's breathing heavily, eyes wide behind the mask, chest heaving as he gulps down air. "What-what the fuck?"
That's weird. Roy may not be an expert on seizures but he's familiar with the basics. There's a recovery time after something like that, but Grayson is conscious, and talking, and seems to be fully aware of what just happened.
"I don't know what that was," Roy says, "but I have to call someone, I'm way out of my depth here."
"No!" Grayson snaps, and Roy is startled at his aggression. "Just-just let me get up, I don't need fucking help!" He waves an arm in Roy's direction as he slowly sits up. "Put that thing away!"
"That's not gonna happen, man, I'm sorry. Do you wanna maybe lower your voice a little?"
Grayson doesn't answer, but his hand forms a fist and for a second Roy thinks he might take a swing-
And then it's happening again. Grayson lets out a pained cry that barely makes it out of his throat before his back arches and his limbs go rigid, fingers curling unnaturally.
"Hey!" Roy's a lot closer to panicking now as he reaches forward and grabs Grayson's arm and even through the thick material of his uniform, Roy can feel the man's muscles twitching and spasming. He looks at Dick "I don't need fucking help" Grayson, then at his phone.
"Fuck it."
Then he dials the number that Jason gave him for emergencies-like, real real emergencies-and waits.
"Hello?"
"Oracle?This is Arsenal. I've got Nightwing with me, he needs a medevac at this location now."
"I see you," Barbara says. "Batman is close. He'll be there in three minutes. What's going on?"
Roy looks down at the man's twitching form and swallows.
"I don't know."
xxx