"Robin," Richard whispered into Damian's hair, his voice urgent, "I need to put you down for a moment. Just wait here and stay as quiet as you can, okay?"
"I am not a child, Nightwing," Damian protested, although he knew his complaint was more feeble than usual. He had been trained by both the League of Assassins and the Batman, he could withstand a great deal, but the compound fracture of his tibia was enough to hamper even him. He'd been practically useless when Richard rescued him from the henchmen who held him - useless two-bit fools hired by the Penguin, whom he would have been able to fight off if they hadn't attacked while he was defending two young children - and all he'd been able to do since was cling to Richard as tightly as possible while Richard held him and ran. Even his ability to hold on was dwindling as the blood loss weakened him more and more.
But he was not useless, and he would not just sit and stay quiet while his brother went into danger.
"I know you're not," Richard agreed in a voice that was more conciliatory than truthful, "but you're hurt, and you've lost a lot of blood. Let me take care of you this time. God knows you've done it enough for me."
Damian scowled. "I do not require taking care of. I can still fight-"
"You can, but I've got it for now," Richard replied. He set Damian down in a small side alley, tucked behind a dumpster. It smelled awful; yet another reason why Damian ought to be by Richard's side instead. "Just wait here, okay? I'll be back as quick as I can."
"Quickly," Damian corrected petulantly.
"Quickly," Richard agreed with a grin, and then he darted around the corner to face whatever was coming for them.
Damian may have been injured, but he knew he wasn't the only one. Richard had been covered in blood when he rescued Damian, and as much as he tried to assure Damian that none of it was his, Damian had noticed the rips in his costume and the spots where his skin had been just a bit reddened. They were spotless now, of course, but they had been in the last stages of healing when Damian had first seen him. Richard had gone through a great deal to get to Damian. The least Damian could do was help him ensure their getaway now.
He didn't think he'd be able to walk, and he knew that putting weight on his tibia would probably only exacerbate the compound fracture. But as awful as the dumpster smelled, Damian knew he was lucky to be next to it, because there was a metal rod sticking out of it. Damian thought it looked like a broken curtain rod, but whatever it was, he could use it. He used the dumpster to lever himself upright, then he pulled out the rod as carefully as he could. He couldn't make too much noise; he didn't want either their pursuers or his brother to come see what he was doing. If Richard knew what his plan was, Damian was sure he would stop him.
Damian was not going to let Richard stop him.
He waited until he could hear the sounds of fighting, then he limped his way to the mouth of the alley. Richard was fighting half a dozen men, all armed and looking very angry. Richard could take this many men by himself - Richard probably could have been able to take this many men even before the serum - but he didn't have to. Damian would help.
He used his rod as a staff for support, then he used it as a weapon as he swung it into a man's kneecap as hard as he could. "Robin?" Richard demanded, turning towards him with wide eyes. "What are you-"
"I'm not about to let you fight on your own," Damian retorted, hitting the same man in the head. He swung a bit too hard and almost lost his balance, but he managed to regain it before he fell.
"You- I appreciate the sentiment, but maybe this wasn't your smartest move."
"I take offense to that."
"Of course you do," Richard sighed as he knocked out his own opponent. "Just- Be careful, okay? I didn't get you out of there just for-"
The gunshot rang out through the night, cutting Richard off. The bullet didn't hit Damian, but it brushed past him, and the combination of force and shock knocked him off his already-precarious balance. He fell-
And Richard screamed.
It took Damian a moment to realize Richard's scream had been a word, and a moment longer to realize it was his name. He wasn't too focused on that, though, because when Richard screamed, he'd also moved.
And Damian was realizing how much Richard must have gone easy on everyone in sparring since his return, because Richard wasn't going easy on anyone now, and Damian was fairly certain he was unstoppable.
Richard tore through three men in a heartbeat, throwing them to the side. Damian tried to push himself upright, knowing he had to stop this, but blood loss and pain made him slow, and Richard was anything but.
The last man had a gun out; Damian assumed that was the man who'd tried to shoot him. Richard stalked towards him, teeth bared in a snarl that barely looked human. The man fired once, twice, three times; the bullets hit Richard and did nothing to stop him. Richard was not going to stop, and suddenly, Damian wondered how far he would go.
If Richard killed this man, he would never forgive himself.
"Nightwing!" Damian yelled as loudly as he could. He managed to scramble to his feet; his leg hurt, but he ignored it. "Nightwing! I'm alright!"
Richard hesitated a moment, turning towards Damian. The man shot again, this time hitting Richard in the shoulder, and Richard turned back, lunging forward and grabbing the gun.
He crushed the barrel with his bare hand. He had most definitely been going easy on everyone for months.
"Nightwing!" Damian cried again. "I'm alright! It didn't hit me!"
Richard pistol-whipped the man, but once he'd fallen, Richard ignored him and raced to Damian's side. Damian swayed on his feet with relief.
"Robin," Richard said urgently, "you're okay? The bullet-"
"It missed me," Damian assured him. "I am no more harmed than I was before."
Richard slumped slightly, then he pulled Damian into a tight hug. "You scared me," he whispered. "I thought-"
"I would not be taken down by something so simple," Damian dismissed, but he hugged his brother back. For a moment, Richard had been almost unrecognizable, but this was familiar. This felt right.
"The men," Richard said after a moment, and Damian felt him stiffen. "Oh god, did I-"
"They're alive," a new voice reported. Damian peeked over Richard's shoulder to see that Drake had arrived, the Batmobile behind him. "B sent me to pick you guys up and help if you needed me, but I guess you didn't."
"The Batmobile is always helpful," Richard replied, letting go of Damian and straightening.
Drake looked horrified. "Nightwing, you-"
Richard looked down. "Oh, this isn't mine."
"Some of it is," Damian said unrepentantly. "He was just shot four times."
Richard blinked, his hand going to one of the fresh bullet wounds. "I- I honestly didn't even realize."
"How do you not realize you were shot four times?" Drake demanded. "Did the bullets pass through?"
"I see three exit wounds," Damian reported. "You were unnecessarily reckless, Nightwing."
"I'll be honest, I wasn't thinking straight," Richard admitted. "I saw the gunshot, and I saw you fall, and-"
"Did you get shot too?" Drake asked Damian urgently.
Damian shook his head. "I avoided it."
"It didn't look like it," Richard said, sounding haunted.
Drake looked from Richard to Damian, apparently putting together what had happened. "We should get back to the Cave," he declared after a moment. "Nightwing, do you need help getting into the Batmobile?"
"I'm really fine, Red Robin," Richard said, as if he weren't covered in blood and bearing four new bullet wounds, one of which still had the bullet in it.
"Sure you are," Drake replied, sounding about as convinced as Damian felt. "Alright, get into the Batmobile, then. I'll help Robin."
"I can-"
"You were just shot four times," Damian told Richard sternly.
Richard sighed. "Fine, fine." He ruffled Damian's hair, prompting an irritated "tt," then he started off towards the Batmobile. He was walking normally, to Damian's relief. Logically, he knew the bullet wounds would not cause lasting damage, but it still had been awful to watch them hit.
"You sure you're okay?" Drake asked Damian, helping him to his feet.
"I am, other than my leg."
"And he's...?"
"He was wounded in the process of rescuing me, although he would not admit it," Damian said. "But I believe... I believe thinking I was shot hurt him more than anything else."
"That sounds like Nightwing," Drake agreed. "And the guys?"
Damian looked around at the fallen bodies. "He... has most definitely been going easy on us during sparring."
Drake snorted. "Yeah, I kinda figured."
"For a moment..." Damian trailed off, not sure if he wanted to finish his sentence. But Drake was watching him expectantly, so he concluded, "For a moment, I thought he would kill them. Or at least the one who tried to shoot me."
Drake's face grew grim. "If you were really dead, I think he might have."
"He would not have forgiven himself for it."
Drake looked at the Batmobile, where Richard seemed to be rummaging around for handcuffs. Damian was certain Drake had intended to restrain the men himself while Richard waited in the car, but Richard didn't seem likely to let that happen.
"I imagine the thought will upset him even though he didn't," Damian added. "Knowing Nightwing."
"And your brush with death will upset him too," Drake added. "We'll just have to be there for him."
"Of course we will be," Damian retorted.
"You don't need to bite my head off," Drake huffed.
Damian didn't dignify that with a response.
"He'll be okay," Drake added. "He's strong, and he's already doing much better than he was when he first came back. He'll be okay."
"He will," Damian agreed firmly. He would allow for nothing less.
Drake helped him along in silence for a moment, then he asked, his tone much lighter, "Did I see a makeshift staff next to you back there? Finally admitting that a staff is a better weapon than a katana?"
"If I had my katana," Damian snarled, "I would stab you with it now."
"See, another reason staffs are better. You can have a makeshift staff, but you can't have a makeshift- Ow, Robin, your elbows hurt!"
Drake deserved it, so Damian felt no remorse. He watched Richard instead, watching how he checked each of the men's pulses as he handcuffed them. He was doing better than he had been, as Drake said, but he was not fully recovered from his ordeal at Deathstroke's hands yet. He would recover, though, if Damian had anything to say about it.
Damian would be benched until his injury healed. That would give him plenty of time with Richard. He had gotten his Richard - his Batman, his brother - back, a miracle he'd hardly expected, and he would not let anything happen to him. This he swore, on his honor as a Wayne, on the Robin mantle. He would be there for his brother, whatever he might need.
After all, he knew Richard would always do the same for him.