The Shooting And The Identity Reveal
Jason knew Nightwing followed him most of the way home if not the whole way home after their meetings. Most people would think that was a bit creepy, but Jason found it comforting. He hadn't really found comfort in anything since before his mother died. He was getting really used to Dick shadowing him that he almost didn't duck into an alley quick enough when he saw four guys loitering on the sidewalk about a block from his house. They were very much blocking the route back to his squat, and he could take the long way, but they hadn't seen him, so he decided to do a little information recon. He listened in and found out only one of the guys was from Bludhaven's east side gang while the other three were part of the Gotham gang that he had just told Dick about. As he had said earlier, those guys were definitely shoot first and ask questions later.
When the first shots rang out, Jason was hard pressed to stay hidden as the east side gang member fell into the alleyway Jason was hiding in. Before Jason could do anything to help the guy bleeding in front of him, a few more shots were fired, but this time into the alley. Jason hadn't been in the path of the bullets, but on them ricochetted of a dumpster and hit him in the shoulder, but he bit his tongue so he wouldn't shout as the Gotham gang members moved away from the alley. Jason grasped at his shoulder as he leaned against the alleyway wall, slumping to the ground as he avoided looking at the gang member that was probably a corpse by now.
Dick was on the move the second the first shot rang out. He'd been lagging behind to give himself room to move a little more freely, without worrying about Jason noticing, and so it took him a few precious seconds to make it to the scene. By then there was already one man on the ground. Dick ignored him - he was clearly down for the count - and focused on the three remaining men. He caught them by surprise - they clearly hadn't been expecting anyone to respond so quickly - and the first of them went down from a staff to the skull without the slightest bit of resistance. It took the remaining two a second to realize what had happened and by the time they were shooting Dick was already moving and he was faster than them. Also, people rarely ran towards angry men with guns. It tended to catch the people holding those guns off guard. Like a lot of street thugs they weren't great shots; too used to the gun being enough to intimidate, to keep people at a distance till a lucky shot did the work. A foot to the stomach of one thug had him doubled over and another kick had the gun out of his limp fingers. The last one tried to run, but a flick of the staff was enough to send him to the ground. Dick grabbed the first man and rolled him over, cuffing his hands behind his back with practiced ease. It only took a few seconds, but it was enough time for the last one to get up and start to run, but there was certainly not going to be any of that going on. With his back ot Dick, he might as well have been standing still and it took only a couple more minutes to bring him down and cuff him. In the distance Dick could hear the sound of sirens - someone had called the cops it seemed - so he dragged three together and left them tied to a lamp post. It wasn't until he went to check on the condition of the fourth man that he realized that Jason had not just been hiding from the crossfire. He'd been in it. Behind his mask, Dick's eyes went wide. In an instant the fourth gang member was forgotten as he rushed to Jason's side. "Shit. Shit. Jason, you still with me?"
"Yeah, sorta," Jason muttered through the pain when he heard Dick by him. He must have missed the fight, because those thugs were not tied up to a lamp post a minute ago. Well, shit, that meant he had blacked out for a little bit. He's not exactly sure how much blood he lost, but he had been keeping pressure on his shoulder. Mostly anyway. It was easier to ignore the pain by blacking out, but he couldn't do that. Bad idea, so he just concentrated on listening to Nightwing to keep himself lucid.
In the distance the sound of sirens was getting closer. For a second Dick felt himself panicking. Jason couldn't be here when the police arrived - the last thing he needed was to get caught up in a the middle of a growing gang war, not to mention the fact that there was no way for him to pay for hospital bills. On the other hand, Dick could probably take care of Jason's wounds, he just needed to get him home. "Okay, well...don't go drifting off on me," said Dick. "Can you get up? We need to get to my bike and then I can take you home and get you patched up. You're going to be fine, okay?"
Jason tried to get up on his own, but it hurt like a bitch. He was stubborn, so Jason pushed himself up off the floor, still using the wall as support. He wanted to say he could walk on his own, but he wasn't quite that stubborn. "I'll need help," he grumbled unhappily, grudgingly, "but I should be able to hold on for the bike ride." Jason's brain was pretty addled from the pain, but he wasn't sure where they'd be going. Jason's was too close to the crime since there'd be cops swarming the place soon, and there was no way he was going to let Nightwing bring him to a hospital. That would put him in the system, and that was definitely not something he wanted, even if he needed to stitched up. Luckily, Jason was pretty sure the bullet was left in the alley, not in his shoulder. That was probably a plus.
Jason was probably going to hate it, but carrying him proved to be much easier than helping him walk, so Dick just scooped him up and headed down the alley towards where his bike was hidden. He was thanking every deity that might be looking down on him that he'd actually left it fairly close to where they were, so they didn't have far to go. Just a couple blocks, mostly cutting through side streets and back alleys. Despite Jason's weight, Dick moved fairly quickly. Really, the boy wasn't all that heavy - which was hardly a surprise - and Dick was, well, few people were in better shape than him. "Okay, I think it'll be kind of awkward, but you should sit in front of me on the bike - I don't want you falling off when I go round a turn," he murmured as he set Jason down and went to get the bike out from under the tarp he'd draped over it.
He really hadn't liked the fact that he had to be carried, but Jason was really beyond the point to protest. He was just concentrating on the pain to keep himself awake. It wasn't a very pleasant experience, but the pain would keep him from blacking out again, he hoped. He didn't want look like a pussy in front of Nightwing. When Nightwing place Jason down to get the bike uncovered, Jason kepts a wince to himself. He wanted to protext about having to sit in the front, but Dick was probably right about the turns. This wasn't like when he fell asleep on the bike months ago, though he was still not really sure why he hadn't become road pizza then either. Becoming road pizza wasn't on Jason's list of things to do, ever, but neither was getting shot. Surprising how things snuck up on him like that.
Dick started the bike and then returned to Jason, helping him stand up once again and then helping him onto the bike. The boy's ego was probably bruised a bit, but oh well. Better a bruised ego than bleeding out on the street. Once Jason was on, Dick hopped on behind him and leaned forward, testing his reach. He'd never ridden with someone like this before and honestly wasn't sure it would work, but Jason was just small enough and Dick's arms just long enough that he could reach around him. It would work for as long as it needed to. A few seconds later the pair of them were pulling out of the alley and onto the road, Dick resisting the urge to speed all the way home. He wished that he could talk to Jason to keep him from drifting off, but there was no way the boy could hear him over the wind. So he concentrated on driving and hoped to god that he was making the right choice by taking Jason home.
Staying awake was proving a bit harder than Jason had originally thought, but he was managing. He was still lucid enough to know they weren't going towards any hospital he knew of in Bludhaven or any other place that made sense. Jason wanted to ask where they were going, but with the wind rushing by, he knew Dick wouldn't hear him. Jason really wish he knew where they were going, but at least it gave him something else to think about to keep himself awake with, other than the pain.
Pretty soon they were at the outskirts of town, riding by industrial parks and warehouses. Eventually Dick made a sudden turn down a short, pot-hole filled road and a few seconds later they were pulling up inside an old warehouse. The outside, if Jason was awake enough to pay attention to it - was rusty and run down but inside was another story entirely. Inside was spotlessly clean and had space not only the bike but for a car as well - in this case, a mustang - and a fairly extensive little gym. There was a table off to one side and Dick helped Jason get off the bike and walk over to the table. "Just stay here, I need to get some stuff and then we'll get you patched up..." said Dick, who only went in search of his first aid supplies once he was certain that Jason wasn't going to fall over the second he let go of him.
Jason didn't really recognize the area since he didn't head this way or really leave Bludhaven much, so he was just confused to what was going on. If he wasn't woozy from the blood lost, he probably could have figured something out, but it wasn't happening now. Jason leaned on the table, hoping he wouldn't fall over since that would be pretty embarassing. He looked around a little, trying to figure out his surroundings, but it wasn't really sticking. He was really thankful he was with Nightwing at the moment, or he'd be royally screwed. He mayb have been able to crawl home on his own, but definitely not without the cops finding him first in that alley or just bleeding out when he got home. He didn't really have anything at home to patch himself with, and he probably needed stitches, which he definitely couldn't do himself. He hadn't had any need to get stitches before, but Jason had a vague feeling it was going to suck.
Dick returned a few minutes later with the necessary supplies and set to work. He actually had to cut Jason's shirt off - better than making him move his arm and undo any clotting that had started. Gingerly he peeled away the bits of shirt that were now stuck to the wound, using peroxide to clean away the blood. On the one hand, the fact that the bullet had gone through was good since it meant that it didn't need to be dug out. On the other hand, the thing about bullet wounds was that they weren't just neat little lines - the kinetic energy of the bullet would cut a wide swath through flesh, or bone, or whatever else it encountered. The entry wound on the front of Jason's arm was small, but on the back side it was a ragged, gaping hole. Dick concentrated on cleaning and sewing that up first and then moved around to the front. He talked as he worked, distracting Jason and giving him something to focus on. The boy was probably in shock at this point, thanks to the amount of blood lost, but he seemed to be holding up well for the most part. "Now, see, this isn't too bad...could have been a lot worse," said Dick as he swiped up the last few remnants of blood on Jason's arm. "I think it might have nicked the humerus, but it's a big bone, hard to break, so it should be okay. You're not gonna be using this arm for a while though..." He paused for a second, tossing the blood-soaked swab in a trashbin that was already full of much more of the same. "Okay, now, we're just going to move to the car and then we can go back to my house and you can rest for a while. Sound good?" He'd carry Jason again - it was easier and kept his heart rate down - and set him gently in the front passenger seat of the mustang.
Getting his wound cleaned and stitched up was mostly a blur to Jason, and it didn't hit him until he was in the backseat of the car the significance of what Nightwing had just said. "Your house?" he asked hoarsely, very sure he didn't hear right with all the pain and blood loss.
"Well, can't exactly leave you by yourself," said Dick rather blithely. He wasn't sure this was a good idea but he really didn't have any options either. He was alone in this city, without anyone else to rely on so...he'd make his own mistakes and deal with it. For now, the important thing was keeping Jason alive. They pulled out of the warehouse and headed back towards the main road. Dick really wished that the pavement was a bit better - Jason certainly didn't need all the bumps the car was going over at the moment. But the side road his warehouse was on was short and pretty soon they were back on a half-way decent road, heading towards the city and then veering off towards one of the residential areas. It was a fairly nice part of town, with houses rather than apartments. Dick's house actually had a garage, which he parked in and closed the door of before even getting out of the car. Once they had privacy, Dick got out and unlocked the door into the house, then came back and got Jason, carrying him inside and laying him out on the couch. He'd probably end up with blood stains on the upholstry, but...oh well. Wasn't like people actually came over anyway. "How you feelin'?" he asked, crouching next to the boy.
Jason was really surprised that he hadn't hallucinated that Nightwing was bring him to his house. During the whole car ride, he didn't believe, but as they drove through Bludhaven straight into the good part of town, Jason was starting to rethink his disbelief. Dick was actually bringing Jason to his house. Jason tried not to be excited, so he reminded himself it was just because he was hurt, not because Nightwing actually trusted him. That dampened his mood pretty fast, and soon they were parked in the house's garage, and Dick was taking him out of the car into the house. Once on the couch, Jason hoped he wouldn't bleed all over it. "I'm okay, I think..." he answered tentatively, glancing around the room. "This really where you live?" Jason had definitely been right about him and money when he first tried to jack his tires from the bike.
"Nah, I just broke into some guys house so I could leave you on the couch. Great practical joke, right?" Dick managed to keep a straight face for a good five second before breaking into a grin. "Yeah, this is really it. Sorry, it's not all that interesting." It really wasn't. It was a nice place and all the furniture was nice - it even matched - but it didn't look like someone lived there. The whole place was ridiculously clean, in a way that suggested that it didn't get used much.
He didn't buy that joke for a second, but it was so stupid that Jason stopped feeling bad if he bled all over Dick's couch. "Better than where I live," he mumbled as he moved a little bit to get comfortable.
"Well...I got lucky," said Dick with an almost apologetic smile. He leaned to the side and grabbed the remote for the TV off of the arm of the couch, holding it up over his shoulder so that he could turn it on without turning around. "Here, watch whatever you want. I'm going to go change real quick. Do no move." That last was quite stern and reinforced with a wave of Dick's finger before he stood up and headed towards his bedroom.
Jason made no move for the remote, content to just lay on the couch that was infinitely more comfortable than his own bed. The TV was just white noise to him, since he was still confused. Did he say he was getting changed? Jason just blinked in confusion as he shifted a bit, staring down the hallway that Dick had gone down. Wait, did that mean he was going to be sans mask? Jason still didn't believe that, though what else would he be changing into? Another costume? Jason just let out a breath and closed his eyes, trying not to dwell on that. He kinda felt tired anyway.
Sans mask indeed. A few minutes later Dick returned wearing a loose fitting pair of jeans and a white undershirt and...that was it. No mask, no attempt to hide his face. It was a risk, but...well, at some point, you just had to take risks. Maybe Bruce would have been mad, but on the other hand he'd brought three people into the fold already. He didn't have any room to talk. "Still with me, soldier?" he asked as he came to perch on the arm of the couch next to Jason's head.
"Yeah," Jason muttered, not opening his eyes yet. When he did open his eyes, he saw Dick perched on arm of the couch, looking so very casual. "You look weird without your costume," he decided to say, closing his eyes again, a small grin on his lips. "Though, weird is relative with you, I guess."
"Could be worse. I could have cowl-hair." said Dick with a laugh. As it was, his hair was a fluffy mess from pulling on his shirt, and he'd not bothered to brush it before coming back out. Not like Jason was going to care.
Jason stayed quiet for a moment before opening his eyes again. "So, do I get a name with the face, fluff-head?" he asked, not seriously thinking he'd get a straight answer, but he could try.
A long pause, then. "...Richard. Most people call me Dick though," he said finally. No last name, but it wasn't like that really mattered. Not like Jason couldn't figure things out if he really wanted to. He glanced down at the boy, making sure the bullet wound wasn't bleeding through the bandage. It seemed to be doing good so far.
Jason started laughing, jostling his arm a little, and he winced after laughing. "Seriously? Why would you want to be called that? There are soooo many jokes!" he announced before laughing again, being careful of his arm this time.
Dick let out a long suffering sigh. "Look, I'm old. When I was little, it wasn't that uncommon and now it kinda stuck." A pause. "And it makes things easier for my ex-girlfriends," he added dryly. He'd tried going by Rich or just Richard, but honestly they didn't quite feel right. Richard Grayson sounded stuffy and pretentious and Rich was...well...no. Sounded like he was bragging or something.
Jason raised an eyebrow. "You don't look that old. You can't be too much older than me," he stated before pausing. "Just because nicknames sound like a good idea when your five don't mean they should stick. My mom used to call me Jay. By the time I was ten, I'd talked her out of it." He probably said more than he wanted to, but Jason was still kinda out of it, so he decided that he'd try to keep his mouth shut. Less embarassment for himself that way.
"You realize Jay will now be added to the list of names to annoy you with, yes?" said Dick with a teasing smile. All in all, this whole 'revealing his secret identity' thing was going pretty well. In a way, it was a big weight off his shoulders, finally having someone else around that knew. At least there was one person he could relax around, at least a tiny bit.
He tried not to groan in annoyance. "I didn't mean to say that," he grumbled tiredly. "Stop picking on the kid with a bullet wound in his arm." He paused. "And once I'm not so out of it, I will find you a nickname you'll hate."
"Yeah, sure you will," scoffed Dick, still grinning. But he was actually good after that, reining in his teasing for the most part. Jason was right after all, it wasn't nice to pick on a guy who was probably already in a lot of pain. And unfortunately, the one thing Dick couldn't help with was the pain. Most of the counter pain meds were blood thinners, which was exactly what Jason didn't need right now.
"I will," he said firmly, before yawning then glancing at Dick. "If I fall asleep, I'm not going to wake up with you watching me all creepy, am I?" He was still in pain, but the sleepiness was overriding the pain, for the moment.
"Depends. How much watching is creepy?" asked Dick. Okay, so he couldn't help but tease a little bit. "Nah, I got better stuff to do than watch you all night. Get some sleep while you can, if your arm doesn't hurt too much." Although, in spite of what he said, Dick would stay up for quite a bit longer to keep an eye on Jason and make sure the bullet wound wasn't bleeding too much.
"If you gotta ask, however much watching you're gonna do once I'm asleep will be creepy," he murmured as he started to drift to sleep. "G'night," he mumbled then added as an afterthought, "Dick..." Soon, he was off into a hopefully peaceful slumber.
"Sleep well." Dick hopped up off the arm of the couch and headed for the kitchen to make himself some food. For a bachelor, his kitchen was surprisingly well stocked with food that was actually healthy, although getting it to that point had been something of a struggle. He'd REALLY missed having Alfred around the first month or so of living completely on his own.
When the first shots rang out, Jason was hard pressed to stay hidden as the east side gang member fell into the alleyway Jason was hiding in. Before Jason could do anything to help the guy bleeding in front of him, a few more shots were fired, but this time into the alley. Jason hadn't been in the path of the bullets, but on them ricochetted of a dumpster and hit him in the shoulder, but he bit his tongue so he wouldn't shout as the Gotham gang members moved away from the alley. Jason grasped at his shoulder as he leaned against the alleyway wall, slumping to the ground as he avoided looking at the gang member that was probably a corpse by now.
Dick was on the move the second the first shot rang out. He'd been lagging behind to give himself room to move a little more freely, without worrying about Jason noticing, and so it took him a few precious seconds to make it to the scene. By then there was already one man on the ground. Dick ignored him - he was clearly down for the count - and focused on the three remaining men. He caught them by surprise - they clearly hadn't been expecting anyone to respond so quickly - and the first of them went down from a staff to the skull without the slightest bit of resistance. It took the remaining two a second to realize what had happened and by the time they were shooting Dick was already moving and he was faster than them. Also, people rarely ran towards angry men with guns. It tended to catch the people holding those guns off guard. Like a lot of street thugs they weren't great shots; too used to the gun being enough to intimidate, to keep people at a distance till a lucky shot did the work. A foot to the stomach of one thug had him doubled over and another kick had the gun out of his limp fingers. The last one tried to run, but a flick of the staff was enough to send him to the ground. Dick grabbed the first man and rolled him over, cuffing his hands behind his back with practiced ease. It only took a few seconds, but it was enough time for the last one to get up and start to run, but there was certainly not going to be any of that going on. With his back ot Dick, he might as well have been standing still and it took only a couple more minutes to bring him down and cuff him. In the distance Dick could hear the sound of sirens - someone had called the cops it seemed - so he dragged three together and left them tied to a lamp post. It wasn't until he went to check on the condition of the fourth man that he realized that Jason had not just been hiding from the crossfire. He'd been in it. Behind his mask, Dick's eyes went wide. In an instant the fourth gang member was forgotten as he rushed to Jason's side. "Shit. Shit. Jason, you still with me?"
"Yeah, sorta," Jason muttered through the pain when he heard Dick by him. He must have missed the fight, because those thugs were not tied up to a lamp post a minute ago. Well, shit, that meant he had blacked out for a little bit. He's not exactly sure how much blood he lost, but he had been keeping pressure on his shoulder. Mostly anyway. It was easier to ignore the pain by blacking out, but he couldn't do that. Bad idea, so he just concentrated on listening to Nightwing to keep himself lucid.
In the distance the sound of sirens was getting closer. For a second Dick felt himself panicking. Jason couldn't be here when the police arrived - the last thing he needed was to get caught up in a the middle of a growing gang war, not to mention the fact that there was no way for him to pay for hospital bills. On the other hand, Dick could probably take care of Jason's wounds, he just needed to get him home. "Okay, well...don't go drifting off on me," said Dick. "Can you get up? We need to get to my bike and then I can take you home and get you patched up. You're going to be fine, okay?"
Jason tried to get up on his own, but it hurt like a bitch. He was stubborn, so Jason pushed himself up off the floor, still using the wall as support. He wanted to say he could walk on his own, but he wasn't quite that stubborn. "I'll need help," he grumbled unhappily, grudgingly, "but I should be able to hold on for the bike ride." Jason's brain was pretty addled from the pain, but he wasn't sure where they'd be going. Jason's was too close to the crime since there'd be cops swarming the place soon, and there was no way he was going to let Nightwing bring him to a hospital. That would put him in the system, and that was definitely not something he wanted, even if he needed to stitched up. Luckily, Jason was pretty sure the bullet was left in the alley, not in his shoulder. That was probably a plus.
Jason was probably going to hate it, but carrying him proved to be much easier than helping him walk, so Dick just scooped him up and headed down the alley towards where his bike was hidden. He was thanking every deity that might be looking down on him that he'd actually left it fairly close to where they were, so they didn't have far to go. Just a couple blocks, mostly cutting through side streets and back alleys. Despite Jason's weight, Dick moved fairly quickly. Really, the boy wasn't all that heavy - which was hardly a surprise - and Dick was, well, few people were in better shape than him. "Okay, I think it'll be kind of awkward, but you should sit in front of me on the bike - I don't want you falling off when I go round a turn," he murmured as he set Jason down and went to get the bike out from under the tarp he'd draped over it.
He really hadn't liked the fact that he had to be carried, but Jason was really beyond the point to protest. He was just concentrating on the pain to keep himself awake. It wasn't a very pleasant experience, but the pain would keep him from blacking out again, he hoped. He didn't want look like a pussy in front of Nightwing. When Nightwing place Jason down to get the bike uncovered, Jason kepts a wince to himself. He wanted to protext about having to sit in the front, but Dick was probably right about the turns. This wasn't like when he fell asleep on the bike months ago, though he was still not really sure why he hadn't become road pizza then either. Becoming road pizza wasn't on Jason's list of things to do, ever, but neither was getting shot. Surprising how things snuck up on him like that.
Dick started the bike and then returned to Jason, helping him stand up once again and then helping him onto the bike. The boy's ego was probably bruised a bit, but oh well. Better a bruised ego than bleeding out on the street. Once Jason was on, Dick hopped on behind him and leaned forward, testing his reach. He'd never ridden with someone like this before and honestly wasn't sure it would work, but Jason was just small enough and Dick's arms just long enough that he could reach around him. It would work for as long as it needed to. A few seconds later the pair of them were pulling out of the alley and onto the road, Dick resisting the urge to speed all the way home. He wished that he could talk to Jason to keep him from drifting off, but there was no way the boy could hear him over the wind. So he concentrated on driving and hoped to god that he was making the right choice by taking Jason home.
Staying awake was proving a bit harder than Jason had originally thought, but he was managing. He was still lucid enough to know they weren't going towards any hospital he knew of in Bludhaven or any other place that made sense. Jason wanted to ask where they were going, but with the wind rushing by, he knew Dick wouldn't hear him. Jason really wish he knew where they were going, but at least it gave him something else to think about to keep himself awake with, other than the pain.
Pretty soon they were at the outskirts of town, riding by industrial parks and warehouses. Eventually Dick made a sudden turn down a short, pot-hole filled road and a few seconds later they were pulling up inside an old warehouse. The outside, if Jason was awake enough to pay attention to it - was rusty and run down but inside was another story entirely. Inside was spotlessly clean and had space not only the bike but for a car as well - in this case, a mustang - and a fairly extensive little gym. There was a table off to one side and Dick helped Jason get off the bike and walk over to the table. "Just stay here, I need to get some stuff and then we'll get you patched up..." said Dick, who only went in search of his first aid supplies once he was certain that Jason wasn't going to fall over the second he let go of him.
Jason didn't really recognize the area since he didn't head this way or really leave Bludhaven much, so he was just confused to what was going on. If he wasn't woozy from the blood lost, he probably could have figured something out, but it wasn't happening now. Jason leaned on the table, hoping he wouldn't fall over since that would be pretty embarassing. He looked around a little, trying to figure out his surroundings, but it wasn't really sticking. He was really thankful he was with Nightwing at the moment, or he'd be royally screwed. He mayb have been able to crawl home on his own, but definitely not without the cops finding him first in that alley or just bleeding out when he got home. He didn't really have anything at home to patch himself with, and he probably needed stitches, which he definitely couldn't do himself. He hadn't had any need to get stitches before, but Jason had a vague feeling it was going to suck.
Dick returned a few minutes later with the necessary supplies and set to work. He actually had to cut Jason's shirt off - better than making him move his arm and undo any clotting that had started. Gingerly he peeled away the bits of shirt that were now stuck to the wound, using peroxide to clean away the blood. On the one hand, the fact that the bullet had gone through was good since it meant that it didn't need to be dug out. On the other hand, the thing about bullet wounds was that they weren't just neat little lines - the kinetic energy of the bullet would cut a wide swath through flesh, or bone, or whatever else it encountered. The entry wound on the front of Jason's arm was small, but on the back side it was a ragged, gaping hole. Dick concentrated on cleaning and sewing that up first and then moved around to the front. He talked as he worked, distracting Jason and giving him something to focus on. The boy was probably in shock at this point, thanks to the amount of blood lost, but he seemed to be holding up well for the most part. "Now, see, this isn't too bad...could have been a lot worse," said Dick as he swiped up the last few remnants of blood on Jason's arm. "I think it might have nicked the humerus, but it's a big bone, hard to break, so it should be okay. You're not gonna be using this arm for a while though..." He paused for a second, tossing the blood-soaked swab in a trashbin that was already full of much more of the same. "Okay, now, we're just going to move to the car and then we can go back to my house and you can rest for a while. Sound good?" He'd carry Jason again - it was easier and kept his heart rate down - and set him gently in the front passenger seat of the mustang.
Getting his wound cleaned and stitched up was mostly a blur to Jason, and it didn't hit him until he was in the backseat of the car the significance of what Nightwing had just said. "Your house?" he asked hoarsely, very sure he didn't hear right with all the pain and blood loss.
"Well, can't exactly leave you by yourself," said Dick rather blithely. He wasn't sure this was a good idea but he really didn't have any options either. He was alone in this city, without anyone else to rely on so...he'd make his own mistakes and deal with it. For now, the important thing was keeping Jason alive. They pulled out of the warehouse and headed back towards the main road. Dick really wished that the pavement was a bit better - Jason certainly didn't need all the bumps the car was going over at the moment. But the side road his warehouse was on was short and pretty soon they were back on a half-way decent road, heading towards the city and then veering off towards one of the residential areas. It was a fairly nice part of town, with houses rather than apartments. Dick's house actually had a garage, which he parked in and closed the door of before even getting out of the car. Once they had privacy, Dick got out and unlocked the door into the house, then came back and got Jason, carrying him inside and laying him out on the couch. He'd probably end up with blood stains on the upholstry, but...oh well. Wasn't like people actually came over anyway. "How you feelin'?" he asked, crouching next to the boy.
Jason was really surprised that he hadn't hallucinated that Nightwing was bring him to his house. During the whole car ride, he didn't believe, but as they drove through Bludhaven straight into the good part of town, Jason was starting to rethink his disbelief. Dick was actually bringing Jason to his house. Jason tried not to be excited, so he reminded himself it was just because he was hurt, not because Nightwing actually trusted him. That dampened his mood pretty fast, and soon they were parked in the house's garage, and Dick was taking him out of the car into the house. Once on the couch, Jason hoped he wouldn't bleed all over it. "I'm okay, I think..." he answered tentatively, glancing around the room. "This really where you live?" Jason had definitely been right about him and money when he first tried to jack his tires from the bike.
"Nah, I just broke into some guys house so I could leave you on the couch. Great practical joke, right?" Dick managed to keep a straight face for a good five second before breaking into a grin. "Yeah, this is really it. Sorry, it's not all that interesting." It really wasn't. It was a nice place and all the furniture was nice - it even matched - but it didn't look like someone lived there. The whole place was ridiculously clean, in a way that suggested that it didn't get used much.
He didn't buy that joke for a second, but it was so stupid that Jason stopped feeling bad if he bled all over Dick's couch. "Better than where I live," he mumbled as he moved a little bit to get comfortable.
"Well...I got lucky," said Dick with an almost apologetic smile. He leaned to the side and grabbed the remote for the TV off of the arm of the couch, holding it up over his shoulder so that he could turn it on without turning around. "Here, watch whatever you want. I'm going to go change real quick. Do no move." That last was quite stern and reinforced with a wave of Dick's finger before he stood up and headed towards his bedroom.
Jason made no move for the remote, content to just lay on the couch that was infinitely more comfortable than his own bed. The TV was just white noise to him, since he was still confused. Did he say he was getting changed? Jason just blinked in confusion as he shifted a bit, staring down the hallway that Dick had gone down. Wait, did that mean he was going to be sans mask? Jason still didn't believe that, though what else would he be changing into? Another costume? Jason just let out a breath and closed his eyes, trying not to dwell on that. He kinda felt tired anyway.
Sans mask indeed. A few minutes later Dick returned wearing a loose fitting pair of jeans and a white undershirt and...that was it. No mask, no attempt to hide his face. It was a risk, but...well, at some point, you just had to take risks. Maybe Bruce would have been mad, but on the other hand he'd brought three people into the fold already. He didn't have any room to talk. "Still with me, soldier?" he asked as he came to perch on the arm of the couch next to Jason's head.
"Yeah," Jason muttered, not opening his eyes yet. When he did open his eyes, he saw Dick perched on arm of the couch, looking so very casual. "You look weird without your costume," he decided to say, closing his eyes again, a small grin on his lips. "Though, weird is relative with you, I guess."
"Could be worse. I could have cowl-hair." said Dick with a laugh. As it was, his hair was a fluffy mess from pulling on his shirt, and he'd not bothered to brush it before coming back out. Not like Jason was going to care.
Jason stayed quiet for a moment before opening his eyes again. "So, do I get a name with the face, fluff-head?" he asked, not seriously thinking he'd get a straight answer, but he could try.
A long pause, then. "...Richard. Most people call me Dick though," he said finally. No last name, but it wasn't like that really mattered. Not like Jason couldn't figure things out if he really wanted to. He glanced down at the boy, making sure the bullet wound wasn't bleeding through the bandage. It seemed to be doing good so far.
Jason started laughing, jostling his arm a little, and he winced after laughing. "Seriously? Why would you want to be called that? There are soooo many jokes!" he announced before laughing again, being careful of his arm this time.
Dick let out a long suffering sigh. "Look, I'm old. When I was little, it wasn't that uncommon and now it kinda stuck." A pause. "And it makes things easier for my ex-girlfriends," he added dryly. He'd tried going by Rich or just Richard, but honestly they didn't quite feel right. Richard Grayson sounded stuffy and pretentious and Rich was...well...no. Sounded like he was bragging or something.
Jason raised an eyebrow. "You don't look that old. You can't be too much older than me," he stated before pausing. "Just because nicknames sound like a good idea when your five don't mean they should stick. My mom used to call me Jay. By the time I was ten, I'd talked her out of it." He probably said more than he wanted to, but Jason was still kinda out of it, so he decided that he'd try to keep his mouth shut. Less embarassment for himself that way.
"You realize Jay will now be added to the list of names to annoy you with, yes?" said Dick with a teasing smile. All in all, this whole 'revealing his secret identity' thing was going pretty well. In a way, it was a big weight off his shoulders, finally having someone else around that knew. At least there was one person he could relax around, at least a tiny bit.
He tried not to groan in annoyance. "I didn't mean to say that," he grumbled tiredly. "Stop picking on the kid with a bullet wound in his arm." He paused. "And once I'm not so out of it, I will find you a nickname you'll hate."
"Yeah, sure you will," scoffed Dick, still grinning. But he was actually good after that, reining in his teasing for the most part. Jason was right after all, it wasn't nice to pick on a guy who was probably already in a lot of pain. And unfortunately, the one thing Dick couldn't help with was the pain. Most of the counter pain meds were blood thinners, which was exactly what Jason didn't need right now.
"I will," he said firmly, before yawning then glancing at Dick. "If I fall asleep, I'm not going to wake up with you watching me all creepy, am I?" He was still in pain, but the sleepiness was overriding the pain, for the moment.
"Depends. How much watching is creepy?" asked Dick. Okay, so he couldn't help but tease a little bit. "Nah, I got better stuff to do than watch you all night. Get some sleep while you can, if your arm doesn't hurt too much." Although, in spite of what he said, Dick would stay up for quite a bit longer to keep an eye on Jason and make sure the bullet wound wasn't bleeding too much.
"If you gotta ask, however much watching you're gonna do once I'm asleep will be creepy," he murmured as he started to drift to sleep. "G'night," he mumbled then added as an afterthought, "Dick..." Soon, he was off into a hopefully peaceful slumber.
"Sleep well." Dick hopped up off the arm of the couch and headed for the kitchen to make himself some food. For a bachelor, his kitchen was surprisingly well stocked with food that was actually healthy, although getting it to that point had been something of a struggle. He'd REALLY missed having Alfred around the first month or so of living completely on his own.