Not Grayson

Damian was wondering exactly why so many people had shown up to the hospital.

Nearly the entire League was there, it seemed like. The Outsiders, the Titans, and the entire Bat-Family (save for Cassandra, but she hadn't been able to charter a flight out of Japan and was currently video chatting with Stephanie while they waited) had arrived too, and Damian was just left feeling very, very confused.

He and Grayson had been on patrol when one of Ra's Al Ghul's snipers had shot Grayson in his chest, leaving three bullets lodged in his chest. It had been from point-blank range and the Kevlar hadn't held, and Batman had fallen off the building, falling three stories onto a ledge. Damian had tried to save him, he really had, but he was too far away and too small, and Grayson had vanished over the precipice before he could get his grapple out.

Miraculously, he had still somehow been conscious (ouch, Damian didn't envy him for that) and he had managed to twist his body around, landing in a weak tuck-and-roll. It had broken one of his arms and had given him an added concussion, but it had probably saved his life.

Damian hadn't been worried at the time; he had seen Grayson recover time and time again from nearly fatal occurrences, the most recent a few weeks ago when he had been caught off guard by Killer Croc. But this time, he hadn't moved. He hadn't come back up onto the rooftop, and Damian, grumbling profusely, had been left to deal with the goons. He had taken them out in a matter of minutes, fueled by anger at his 'partner' for leaving him. When he had finished, he stacked their unconscious bodies on the side of the building, tied them off, and went looking for his mentor, still raging about having to fight alone.

He had found his way to the ledge quickly, and had been stunned when Grayson hadn't woken up. He had felt strangely numb then, but had reached into his utility belt and had pulled out his communicator, contacted Oracle, and sat next to the unmoving body of his mentor-more than just a mentor, really-while they waited for the Batwing to arrive.

They had rushed Batman to the nearest hospital immediately, Gotham General, where Dick had been hooked up to numerous tubes, IVs and monitors, showing declining blood pressure levels and a slow, shaky heartbeat. He was unconscious, possibly a coma, and one of the bullets had puncuted his lung. Even before, Damian had never seen anything as bad as this. Barbara, worried out of her mind, had quickly called Alfred, Bruce and Tim. Somehow-probably Alfred-the news had spread around the superhero community and others had shown up.

Flash was the first to arrive. He had ran into the room so fast that he nearly knocked over an IV. He took one look at his friend and immediately took a seat by his side, one hand rising as if he half-wanted to pet his head, but then he thought better of it and lowered the appendage, deciding instead to restrict himself to clench his hands into fists, his fingers rigid. He hadn't said a word to either Damian or Barbara, but he didn't need to.

Arsenal and the rest of the old Titans had shown up next, and Tim had arrived with them. The archer and Red Robin had immediately gone to Batman's side, both of them stoic and frowning and deathly worried. The others milled around the edges of the room. Donna and Kory had attempted comforting Barbara, but all three of them ended up in a teary, weepy huddle in a corner. None of them touched Damian.

Batgirl and Alfred had shown up next, and the added amount of people in the room had forced Damian closer to the wall. Stephanie took one look at Grayson and had teared up, running outside to wait in the hallway because she "couldn't bear to look." No doubt calling Blackbat, Damian thought. Alfred had gone and stood next to Damian for a while, and while he would never admit it to anyone, it had felt a little comforting. The old butler had stayed there for a while before sitting at Grayson's side next to Drake, Arsenal and the Flash. He had reached out and pushed some of the hair-matted with blood and sweat, but Alfred didn't care-out of Grayson's eyes before leaving the room altogether, but Damian had a feeling they weren't far.

The murmured whisperings in the room had gone silent, and Damian turned around to see that Bruce had walked in. He was wearing his Batman uniform, but Damian knew he had just changed because his cape was a little askew and he had been at an important conference that night. Everybody else in the room suddenly looked uncomfortable, and half of them left, leaving only Damian, Bruce, Barbara, and the three sitting by Grayson's side.

Drake and Flash had gotten up and allowed Bruce to sit by the edge of the gurney, his face unreadably stony under the cowl. Damian saw his head barely turn to look at the monitors, and then his gaze flicked back to his eldest "son", his hands clenching almost inperceptively. He didn't say anything but a muttered "How lond?" directed at nobody in particular. When he realized nobody was going to answer, Arsenal spoke up:

"A couple hours now."

Hours? Damian hadn't noticed the time fly by. It had all seemed to happen within half an hour, everybody coming and crying and talking. It was even stranger because he had thought himself to usually be a pretty perceptive kid.

"Is Dick a-" a loud, hasty voice broke the silence of the room, and the six awake people in the room all whirled around as one to see Jason Todd peeking in through the doorway. It was oddly funny, but Damian knew it wasn't the time nor place to laugh. He was clutching the red piece of cloth that normally went over his head, and was wearing his motorcycle jacket, as if he had just arrived. His face twisted into a grimace, and then faded into uncomfortable embarassment. "Um, I'll..." he said, making several flustered gestures towards the rapidly filling hallway. His mouth opened and closed a few times (much like a dying fish) and then he vanished.

Everybody turned back to look at Grayson like nothing had happened.

A loud, obnoxious beeping sounded through the room and Arsenal cursed, not caring that Damian was in the room. He pressed a finger to the comm unit hidden in his ear and listened for a moment, eyebrows pullling down behind his mask.

"I have to go." he finally said with a sigh, glancing at his friend lying on the bed again. "Call me." he added, and Flash nodded before Arsenal was gone, echoing footsteps the only indication that the archer had even been in the room.

Damian managed to hear Superman's booming voice and the clink of Hawkwoman's mace coming from just outside the doorway, but nobody else entered the room. Why was this that special? It was just Grayson, not even some major member of the-well, that was a lie. He was the leader of the new League, and he did have excruciatingly many connections. But still, he had bounced back from injuries worse than these-hadn't he?

"Nnngghhh." a low groan echoed through the room and all five faces were staring at Grayson, who was stirring ever-so-slightly and fluttering his eyes like some ridiculous female vanity impersonation. He finally managed to open his eyes and looked up at them confusedly, taking in the unfamiliar room and the five faces of his closest friends and family around him.

Surprisingly, it was Damian who spoke first.

"That was stupid, Dick."

Bruce looked at him sharply, and in Damian's peripheral vision he caught sight of Flash and Drake looking at eachother questioningly. Barbara's jaw had dropped, but Dick didn't do anything. He smiled a bit, and then realized he was too tired to continue.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he said, not acknowledging the use of his first name. He scrunched up his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying very hard to remember something. Everybody-including Damian-leaned in, eyes wide in anticipation.

"Did we at least get the snipers?"


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Well, there you go. My first ever Batman one-shot. Normally, in case you haven't read any of my other stories, I write for Young Justice. But hey! If its DC, I'll write it. Please R&R!

-TheGrayson :3