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Barbara’a gut clinched in a nauseous pain as she dropped Dick to the ground. She heard his breathing halt for a fear-filled moment before it settled back into its strained, unsteady rasp. Each inhale was loud and sporadic; it was an unhinged beat to background her fight.
Barbara surged forward before the men had time to take in what was happening. She didn’t need much distance to gain momentum and speed, even the short width of the hall was enough to make driving right into them fast and painful.
She felt like a bowling ball, toppling them over before they had a chance to brace themselves. They tripped over each other trying to get out of her way and regain their footing. They stumbled back into the room.
She continued to press them back further through the door. She could use it to her advantage. Shrink their point of entry to get to her by fighting right in the doorframe. She could hear Bruce’s words in her head from her first training after saying goodbye to Batgirl: ‘Always use your surroundings.’
She lunged forward to grab the closest guy before he could gather himself back up. She had him by the scruff. Dick’s breathing hitched. She flung the thug’s body into the wall without a second thought.
The crack overpowered the heavy breathing and yells that had filled the hall. It might have been the old wooden frame splintering from the force. She hoped it was a skull splintering open.
Only three to go. The first was now only an obstacle at her feet, limp and useless to everyone but her. She rolled back, causing the other two to trip over their buddy as they reached through the door for her chair.
She moved forward again. Crushing unprotected fingers in the confusion. A cry of protest was stuck under her weight and wheel, momentarily out of the fight until she moved. She locked her chair in place instead.
The third thug was on his feet, fury painted red across his face. He was fast. His hands gripping her neck before she could block.
His palms were clammy with sweat, uncomfortably warm against her cold skin. He yelled out something unintelligible as he tightened his grip and she felt her airway close. She threw a punch. He gripped harder.
Her hearing tunneled. The commotion and sounds of confusion and pain around her faded out. Only Dick’s pained breath filled the air. Each struggling inhale from her best friend in time with her punches. His shaky exhales matching the tightening grip around her neck.
She pummeled the face in front of her. With each hit her fist turned red, as did the sadistic toothy grin that filled her vision. No. Not a grin… a grimace. And not sadist… just scared. This was just a man, not a murderer. His grip lost its hold. She used the moment of weakness to adjust herself.
She gripped his shoulder with one hand and pushed up against his stomach with the other. Using his unsteady forward lean against him, she forced him up and pulled him forward. Flipping his body over her shoulder and off to the side.
He landed hard on his back to her left. Air pushed free from his lungs from the force. She didn’t spare him a moment as she turned back around, reaching down to grab the hair of the thug still caught under her wheel.
In the back of her mind she registered that his glossy eyes meant tears. His fingers were probably shattered. She didn’t have time to feel guilt. She didn’t hesitate as she slammed his face in the metal of her wheel’s hand-rim.
One hit was enough. The power and strength she put into it would be a big enough motivator to make him back off, but she needed more than that. She slammed his face down again and again until she felt his tense form relax into unconsciousness in her grip. She let him drop bloody and bruised to the floor.
She quickly glanced back at the thug she had flipped. Scared for a moment that he would lunge for Dick, but he was already halfway down the hall. He was stumbling out the same exit she needed to get to.
Good for him, she thought briefly. He’ll enjoy a short ignorant period of relief. Mistakenly assured in his escape before someone else from the bat clan descended on him and finished the job, dishing out their own taste of justice and retribution before depositing him to the police.
She whipped back around towards the doorframe. The fourth ski mask hadn’t made a move yet, hadn’t try to attack her. She saw why.
As his fellow kidnappers crumbled under her fists, he had run back into their room for back up. For that stupid dart gun which was now pointed right at her, loaded and ready.
There was a pause of hesitation for most people when they aimed at another human and pulled the trigger of a gun. Whether loaded with real bullets or not, there was always a pause, a last second of humanity… There was a timing to using that last second that they all had learned. It’s how she knew Dick would’ve been able to just dodge the shot from earlier that night. It’s how she knew she’d be fine now.
As the man’s brain made the decision to take the shot, as his finger waited for that decision to reach it, Barbara forced one wheel back. Pivoting quickly on the other wheel still locked atop broken fingers. She rolled to the side and out of the way.
She didn’t hear the click this time. She didn’t see the dart as it flew past her face and lodged itself in the fading graffiti behind her. She stared down the last ski-mask instead, waiting for him to make the connection that he had missed.
His eyes widened. The gun fumbled out of his hand. He tripped over the man still unconscious in the doorframe. He rushed after his friend who had escaped, realizing he was the only one left standing with a crazed, disabled civilian who had just laid out his entire crew. He was gone.
Barbara was breathing heavily. She hadn’t fought like that in awhile, training sessions in the Batcave didn’t come close to the real thing. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, reminding her she needed to get Dick out of here.
She moved back towards the doorway, wanting to make sure no more surprises waited for them before she continued on in their escape. The room was old and decrepit like all the rest. There was a folding table set up in the middle of the room. It had bags and tools laid out on, and, to her great relief, a couple phones among the pile.
Against the far wall both men from upstairs were propped up. Burly was still out cold, barley making a sound where he leaned against the wall. She glanced at Raspy, he was awake.
They made eye contact with each other. He still cradled his arm where she had snapped it earlier, heavily breathing through the pain. His mask was off now; she finally could see his face. He had such a plain looking face. It always struck her how their faces never looked as evil as she thought they should.
She rolled into the room slowly, driving right over the man in her way and never breaking eye contact with Raspy. As she got to the table she reached out carefully for one of the tools sitting on the edge, a bolt cutter. Large, metal, and perfect for swinging. She held it up offensively and Raspy’s eyes widened in fear.
“Please no!” He was panicked. “Just go! Please just go!”
She let out a small scoff at his fear, he had been so big and tough not that long ago. She dropped the tool and grabbed one of the phones, shaky with relief as she backed out the door and closed it behind her. The fight was finally over.
There was a silence that filled the hallway. It had been loud with noise that grated at her nerves, but now it felt peaceful. Like the night had settled down at last. She glanced down at the phone in her hand as she turned back around. She needed to call someone.
Years of experience made her want to call Bruce for an extraction, but they were civilians. As much as she knew Dick’s family would be more comfortable with him coming to the cave to be treated, it wouldn’t be something easy to explain later having been kidnapped as Dick and Barbara and not Nightwing and Oracle. It would be hard enough to explain all the unconscious beaten men. Although, honestly, she’d probably just blame it on infighting that always seemed to work. And who would doubt the poor commissioner’s daughter?
Barbara started typing in 911 on the phone as she rolled back across the hall. She froze. It was so quiet now. So quiet… Dick!
She flung herself out of her chair next to where she had dropped him only a handful of minutes earlier. He had been breathing so loud not long ago, they were horrible uneven breathes but they were there. He was quiet now, not a single rasp escaped his lips.
“No-no-no-no-no! Dick! Don’t do this to me, c’mon!” She felt frantic again as she rolled him over to his back. Her fingers found the spot on his neck as the phone started ringing. She had switched it to speaker and thrown it to the floor as she dropped to his side.
She waited. Counting each second of stillness. She adjusted her fingers. The phone was on its second ring. She adjusted again. CRAP!
She grabbed the makeshift sling that held his broken wrist against his chest and flung it off. She should be more careful with it, but exposed bone was now the least of her concerns. She shifted her weight on top of him.
“911, what is your emergency?”
Barbara started compressions. It was more difficult without the leverage of her lower half. After dragging Dick around, falling onto her sides multiple times, and full out fighting five different men she was sore. Her arms and chest were already screaming at her after the third compression, but she quieted their protests as she mentally started her count to thirty.
“My name is Barbara Gordon. Richard Grayson and I were kidnapped outside of the Convention Center on 24th Street earlier tonight. I don’t know where we are, but he’s not breathing and I can’t find a pulse. I need an ambulance now!”
She had to keep herself calm. She let a little bit of her fear slip through into her voice for appearance sake, but otherwise she needed to stay completely in control of the situation until her dad and EMS got here.
“Alright Miss Gordon, I have your location and I have an ambulance on the way. Can you tell me what happened to your friend? Do you know CPR?”
The lady on the other end of the line sounded nice enough, but Barbara had gotten all the she needed out of her. She needed to focus on Dick, on keeping him alive. She continue pounding on his chest.
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”
Twenty seven. Twenty eight. Twenty nine. Thirty. She stopped and tilted Dick’s chin up to breath for him. Nothing.
“Miss Gordon?”
Shut up! She mentally yelled at the operator as she started the second round of compressions. So much for being in control. Her best friend was dying.
She was sweating. She could feel Dick’s ribs straining under her weight. He had to wake up. She had so many more things she needed to be mad at him about. She wasn’t ready to let go of his sarcastic smile and sweet laughter. She needed him.
“You jerk!” She yelled at him as she kept pounding down. She felt like her hands were going through his chest with each count. She was scared. “So help me Grayson, if I have to do another round of these. You can’t die on my night off!”
He gasped. Never had she heard a sound so sweet.
Dick’s eyes flew open. His pupils were blown wide; she could barely make out his beautiful blue. He heaved in a couple shaky breaths before his eyelids closed back halfway. They were dazed and glossy, dead to the world. But he was there.
She watched his chest struggle to rise and fall, and felt the thready slow beat of his heart under her fingers. She breathed out in relief as she leaned her head down against his own, her fingers never leaving his neck.
“You idiot.” She whispered as she heard the faint sound of sirens approaching and the operator’s voice somewhere in the background.
••••••••••••••••••••
She didn’t get to ride with Dick in the ambulance. She had wanted to desperately, but her Dad had ushered her to his car and she was forced to watch them load Dick up and drive away without her.
In hindsight, she was actually pretty relieved she hadn’t been allowed to. She was emotionally, mentally, and physically beat. Getting a bit of peace during her Dad’s fast drive to the hospital gave her time to recuperate and gather herself back together. From what she heard later, that wouldn’t have happened if she had been with Dick.
Apparently he had coded again after the paramedics had given him a second dosage of naloxone. After reviving him again it hadn’t been pleasant. She wasn’t surprised. He was confused long before his body gave out, she could only guess how much more delirious he had become since.
Her father and her were shuffled into a waiting room after they had treated her injuries and got her statement. She had explained the whole night in its entirety, sort of. She lied and twisted the truth here and there, but no one questioned it. Her bloody knuckles were written off as a result of her desperate attempt at protecting herself on the street. There were security cameras outside one of the buildings that captured the whole thing. She kept getting praised by the cops and hospital staff for being so brave to put up a fight. It made her want to gag.
The men had also all been rounded up, including the two runaways (thanks to Redhood). They had been right. The Ski Masks were all just low level criminals trying out kidnapping for the first time to get themselves out of another tricky situation. It had become more obvious to her after they raised a white flag in fear once she really started her beat down.
Bruce had shown up with Alfred, Tim, and Damian shortly after she had gotten to the waiting room. She dutifully relayed the entire story to him as she did the police, but she reached out her hand to give his a reassuring squeeze as she finished. Don’t worry B. I’ll give my official report later.
The rest of the night went by in a blur. Mostly because she was so exhausted she couldn’t really stay awake anymore. Her father had insisted on taking her home, and after accidentally falling asleep twice she relented.
Tim had texted her late the next morning to let her know Dick was okay and that he would be released later that evening (only due to the scary persuasion of Bruce Wayne). There were no serious complications, just a long list of nasty side effects that would persist until the drugs had fully left his system. She would be welcome to come over the next day to check on him per Alfred.
It had been a serious concoction of chemicals. The drug the men had given him was some new street drug, meant to give people a very “compliant high” apparently. Dick had been given an estimated three times the normal amount all in one go, and that had been further complicated by the sedative that was already in his system.
It would be a long recovery. They wouldn’t really be able to give him much of anything else to help with it either thanks to the heavy load his liver and kidneys were already dealing with.
His wrist had also been fixed. They had been able to take him to surgery late the next morning after he had fully stabilized. They were worried they wouldn’t be able to with everything in his system, but once his heart was beating normally and his vitals all settled, the open wound quickly rose higher on the critical list.
Tim had continued to give her updates the whole next day. She wanted to go visit herself but was so bruised and exhausted she realized it wouldn’t really do either of them much good. Her dad was also happy to have her stay safe at home and under his watchful eye.
She grew anxious the longer she went without seeing Dick though. Her last solid memory of him had been performing CPR, and even after he was breathing she spent the rest of the time fearing he would just die in front of her all over again. During the next night she relived that horrid memory over and over again in her sleep. She needed to see him.
So after lunch that second day she finally was able to get herself to the Manor. She felt another sense of relief as Alfred welcomed her into the foyer. She wondered when she’d stop feeling that clearly fake feeling of relief, so far each time had been too soon and short lasting. She wasn’t sure when this whole ordeal would actually be over.
Alfred was thanking her profusely, as he always did when he saw her. She’d saved everyone’s butts in this house multiple times over, but this situation had been different.
“Alf, it’s okay. I’m just glad Dick’s okay. You really shouldn’t be thanking me, I’m the reason he was in this mess in the first place. He almost died and all I got was a bunch of bruises.”
“Miss Barbara! Please do not let yourself think such things. We are all grateful for you and how you kept Master Dick safe. There is no room to blame yourself in this situation, only those cowardly criminals have rights to that title. You are much to valuable to each of us to be anything less then a hero.”
Alfred placed his hand lovingly on her shoulder and gave her a warm smile.
“Thank you Alfred,” she said softly. Again that relief was still trickling back in. “How’s he doing?”
The old butlers face fell, concern clearly written across his forehead.
“I’m afraid this will be a harder recovery for Master Dick. He is still easily confused from the drugs, and Dr. Leslie has said he will probably remain that way for a few more days at least. We have also been unable to get him to sleep much at all I’m afraid, which is another unfortunate side effect that will lengthen recovery.”
Barbara frowned at that. She wished she had gotten a few more punches in now.
“Is he up in his room?” Another crease in Alfred’s forehead seemed to deepen at her question.
“Unfortunately not at the moment. He has only been able to sleep for short periods and wakes very confused. He has proven prone to wonder upon each awakening. Currently we have him set up in the leisure room off the kitchen so we can keep him under careful watch. We are maintaining an enforced quiet atmosphere. If he won’t sleep I am insisting that he at least rests.”
He gave a gesture to go ahead and head towards the back room where Dick was. Alfred gave her one more loving smile before heading off to do whatever work he had about the house.
As she rolled into the back family room she was greeted with a harsh sharp noise. She spun her head towards it, and was unsurprised to see Damian looking up at her from his sketch books. He had shushed her as she came in and motioned towards the sleeping form of Dick on the main couch.
He looked stressed even in sleep. He was sitting up in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position. A blanket had been carefully placed over him. She could still make out the shape of what must be his cast under it. She could tell he was in pain.
He had a wet towel placed across his forehead and she could see the thermometer next to a cup of untouched tea on the coffee table. She rolled closer, concern eating away at her.
Tim walked into the room. He looked more relaxed then the youngest Wayne sibling. He had plate of of food with him. He smiled at her as he entered. When he reached the couch he picked up his laptop where it had been left open on the spot next to Dick. He relocated to the armchair and motioned for her to take his spot.
“How is he?” She whispered as she carefully lifted herself onto the couch.
“He’ll be fine.” Tim breathed out, his own worry briefly showing itself. “He’s got a small fever right now. It isn’t great, but his wrist was bad and they can’t give him strong antibiotics yet cause of the risk of burdening his liver and kidneys. He’s taking some less potent stuff, but he’s going to have to heal up mostly on his own. There’s a lot of concern for infection. If the fever gets too high Leslie said we’ll have to take him back to the hospital. It isn’t helping with the confusion either.”
“He’s also in a lot of pain… he can’t take anything for it. His wrist is really hurting him. They actually gave him an external fixator for now, just so we can keep an eye on the sutures and help keep it clean. Also so he can ice it more easily, which is really the only measure we can take for the pain.”
Barbara closed her eyes, she knew that relief would be short lived. She felt the rage from that night build up inside her again. This wasn’t fair. The men were not even in the same playing field as the villains they fight, and yet they did so much damage.
“Hey. He’ll be okay Babs, he doesn’t like to be kept down for long. He always bounces back quickly.” Tim reassured her.
“Tsk. He’ll probably ‘bounce back’ awake soon if you keep making noise Timothy.” Damian rolled his eyes.
Barbara smiled at that. They were right, he would be fine. He’d just need time. They all sat quietly as Dick continued to sleep, she was glad he was at least doing that if he hadn’t gotten much since coming back to the Manor.
Damian was right though. He really didn’t stay asleep for long. Only about five minutes had passed before he started stirring.
Dick opened his eyes slowly, blinking at the daylight coming in from the back windows. His eyes still looked glossy to her, but luckily his pupils were no longer blown from the drugs.
He looked around confusedly, and although he definitely did look at her he didn’t show any signs of actually seeing her. His eyes looked clouded from his fever and the drugs. He mumbled something under his breath as he reached up to pull the towel off his forehead. Everyone was watching him carefully.
He sat still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. She debated saying something to let him know she was here. When it was clear he wasn’t going to fall back asleep she opened her mouth.
“Dick?” She said it softly, but immediately his head snapped forward and he awkwardly fought the blanket to stand.
“Dick, sit back down.” Tim said calmly once his older brother was fully on his feet. He still seemed shaken and weak to her, but she guessed those would be lingering side effects too.
Dick looked at Tim and understanding finally showed on his face. He slowly looked around the room and seemed to check out of whatever drug haze he had been in and back into realty.
He sat back down, hissing in pain as he moved his left wrist a bit too much. Damian made a disappointed grunt and stood up angrily to leave for the kitchen.
She could see that his wrist was pointing in the correct direction now, it was much easier to look at. Medical gauze hid the stitches and the sites where the metal bars entered his skin to screw into the bone. It still looked painful though.
“Babs!” He gave her that perfect smile. “I was so worried about you.”
“You were so worried? Dick, you idiot, if you ever do that to me again I will murder you.”
“Course you will, wouldn’t expect anything less,” he chuckled. He shifted and scooted closer to her so he could reach across his lap with his right hand to hold her own. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt at all?”
She rolled her eyes at him, but was glad to see him at least acting like himself. His eyes were slowly blinking closed again, she didn’t really expect his to last much longer.
“I’m fine, just some new bruises. How about you though? How are you feeling?”
He hummed as he considered her question. Damian had walked back as she asked it with a fresh ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel. He carefully placed it on his brother’s wrist, completely distracting Dick from his train of thought.
“Thanks Dames,” Dick whispered.
“Dick.” She prompted again, “How are you feeling?”
“Hmm, feeling like pizza I think.” She lost him. Both his brothers rolled their eyes as Dick started off on a some pizza related tangent. He really was pretty out of it.
She listened patiently to his ramblings as they circled about and changed without reason. It was mostly mumblings that she couldn’t really understand. It felt too similar to how he was during their escape, but at least he didn’t look as sick.
Alfred came in at one point and was disappointed to see his ward awake. He tried prompting Dick to try sleeping again, but Dick really just didn’t understand. As unfortunate as it all was, she could admit it was a little comical too.
At least Dick’s delirium was happy and even a little silly. It could be a lot worse and more frustrating to deal with if his mood had gone a different way.
Dick talked on and off. He had moments of lucidity, moments where he just stopped and starred off into space, and of course the delirious rambling. They all agreed that even though he seemed awake, the moments when he just stopped was his brain fighting his body for sleep.
It had been a couple hours of each of them trying to coax Dick to rest when he seemed like he hit his more relaxed periods, they had not succeeded. She understood why they didn’t trust him alone in his room.
Damian jumped up to get fresh ice every twenty minutes without fail. And Tim instructed his brother to sit back down each time he tried to get up to leave without purpose. It would be dangerous if he wondered somewhere on his own in this state, not to mention he didn’t seem that stable on his feet
It was getting to be later afternoon when Bruce came home from the office. He walked into the back room still in his suit and with briefcase in hand to check on Dick.
His face dropped in disappointment when he saw Dick awake and talking nonsense.
“Dick, this is not resting.” He stated, capturing his son’s attention. Dick rolled his eyes and groaned in a very Dick-like manner.
“Bruucce, I'm fine. Geez.”
“Chum. Stop talking. Lay down.” Bruce’s voice had that don’t-make-me-ask-again ring to it. He turned to leave before he even saw if Dick would listen. His words held power though, because for the first time Dick listened.
He readjusted and carefully laid down in a way that didn’t shift his hand too much. He leaned against her legs, using her lap as a pillow. She fingered his hair, hoping to help him relax and sleep. He was frowning.
“Babs, your night off?” He whispered sadly. “It was ruined.” She chuckled, of course he would worry about something so trivial.
“Don’t worry Boy Wonder, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re okay.” His eyes started to fall close, he was losing the fight to stay awake.
“Was always okay, I had you.” He gave her that smile as his eyes fully dropped. For a moment she thought he finally would settle, but his eyes blinked back open. He mumbled, “Babs… we missed your dad’s charity ball. I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be stupid, neither of us wanted to go to that anyway. We’ll do something else later to make up for it, maybe a movie night.”
“That sounds good…” he was drifting off, finally. She ran her hand carefully across his forehead, she could feel the heat coming off him. They’d have to check his temperature again.
She sighed, they wouldn’t have to wait very long. The drugs would force him awake again soon, but for now he could sleep.
She closed her eyes as her own exhaustion gnawed at her. They were right that his recovery would be long and hard, but she felt a sense of peace about it. She was sure there would be hurdles, but Dick would be fine. And right now, with him asleep on her lap, it felt like a perfect night-off anyway.