Drabbley drabbley drabbley
Crawl
Bruce is going to shout.
Dick brings the bike to an unsteady stop. He hates this, crawling back to Bruce like an infant, weak, failed.
The Bat strides over confused and Dick dismounts the bike before collapsing to the ground. He is embraced by the cloak as the cowl comes back and it's Bruce's worried eyes he sees.
"What happened?"
"Fight. Gun." He coughs, faint red on skin.
He hates giving in like this, but when Bruce carries him so gently, treats him so tenderly and tucks him up in bed with a soft, chaste kiss, Dick realises he's home.
Perfect rescue
The dart hits and he goes down instantly. He is immobile, at the thug's mercy. This is it.
He watches the crowbar arc down- but, suddenly, a shape, blue-black blur and a cry echoes out with the sickening crack. One-two-three and the man is incapacitated. It's a perfect attack.
His rescuer breathes heavily, bleeding onto the ground, but he is alive, vital, beautiful by the moon.
Cradling his shattered arm against his chest, Nightwing sits down beside him and offers a faint smile.
"Guess this is where we wait for Robin, huh?"
He would wait all night for that smile.
Keeping up appearances
Alfred observed Dick carefully, noting the loose sprawl of limbs and the wine glass in hand. He looked up and scowled.
"I came here to be alone."
"Oh, really? I was deceived for a moment."
Dick refused to meet his eyes. Alfred waited patiently.
"I can't stand it, Alfred. It's so…false. He's there with his jokes and his…women! He'll take one to bed and that'll be that. Here I am, left. Just…left."
Dick rose unsteadily and stumbled.
"Have you told him, Master Dick?"
A harsh laugh. "What for? It's all about the mission, isn't it?"
The door slammed. Alfred sighed.
Bruce is going to shout.
Dick brings the bike to an unsteady stop. He hates this, crawling back to Bruce like an infant, weak, failed.
The Bat strides over confused and Dick dismounts the bike before collapsing to the ground. He is embraced by the cloak as the cowl comes back and it's Bruce's worried eyes he sees.
"What happened?"
"Fight. Gun." He coughs, faint red on skin.
He hates giving in like this, but when Bruce carries him so gently, treats him so tenderly and tucks him up in bed with a soft, chaste kiss, Dick realises he's home.
Perfect rescue
The dart hits and he goes down instantly. He is immobile, at the thug's mercy. This is it.
He watches the crowbar arc down- but, suddenly, a shape, blue-black blur and a cry echoes out with the sickening crack. One-two-three and the man is incapacitated. It's a perfect attack.
His rescuer breathes heavily, bleeding onto the ground, but he is alive, vital, beautiful by the moon.
Cradling his shattered arm against his chest, Nightwing sits down beside him and offers a faint smile.
"Guess this is where we wait for Robin, huh?"
He would wait all night for that smile.
Keeping up appearances
Alfred observed Dick carefully, noting the loose sprawl of limbs and the wine glass in hand. He looked up and scowled.
"I came here to be alone."
"Oh, really? I was deceived for a moment."
Dick refused to meet his eyes. Alfred waited patiently.
"I can't stand it, Alfred. It's so…false. He's there with his jokes and his…women! He'll take one to bed and that'll be that. Here I am, left. Just…left."
Dick rose unsteadily and stumbled.
"Have you told him, Master Dick?"
A harsh laugh. "What for? It's all about the mission, isn't it?"
The door slammed. Alfred sighed.