Flightless (Young Justice)

8

"What happened?" Dick's frightened eyes stared at a bloodied Bruce. Blood spilled down half of his face, originating from a cut close to his hairline. His arms were wrapped in bandages, but blood covered his hands.

"I fell," Bruce said. Dick raised an eyebrow and gestured to the injuries. Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. "Through a window."

Alfred sighed and walked over with a rag, much too prepared for this occurrence for any ordinary butler, but who said Alfred was ordinary? Though, Dick thought, none of them have been around a butler long enough to know what's normal, especially for a Gotham billionaire. Alfred wiped the blood from Bruce's face, pulled medicinal supplies from his suit pockets, and effortlessly provided basic first aid. The Team stood in the doorway, staring at Bruce. None of them said anything aloud, but the slight changes in their facial expressions told Dick they were talking to each other through the mind link. 

Dick blinked when a firm hand rested on his head. He turned his head and looked up at Bruce. A gentle smile rested on his face, and gently tousled Dick's hair. 

"I'll be fine," he said. "Come on, if I couldn't survive this, I would've been dead three times over by now." The words were meant to be reassuring, but how could they be? Dick knew it was an understatement, even if Bruce was only counting the amount of times he had nearly met his death. Adding the amount of time Batman had nearly been killed, well, that was part of why Robin was being trained. So when a frown marred Dick's expression, he couldn't find it in himself to fake a smile.

"Master Bruce, you must admit that seeing you in this condition would be off-putting for Master Richard. He is already worried enough without you lacking basic self-preservation skills," Alfred said. "He locked himself in your room earlier." Dick shifted under Bruce's scrutinizing gaze, suddenly finding the floor incredibly interesting. 

"That explains why he's wearing my sweatshirt. What's for dinner?"

Dick didn't pay attention; he didn't care. He wasn't hungry, so why would he? Some part of him knew he'd need to eat, to keep up his strength and to keep Bruce and Alfred from worrying about him, but the thought of food made him nauseous. When Bruce's attention turned to something else, Dick slinked away. Well, maybe slinked wasn't the best word. Usually for sneaking in and out of places, Dick would stick to the highs and the lows, but since Bruce knew that meant he didn't want to be seen, the best way for Dick to escape was to walk away.

Act like you belong, or in this case like you aren't planning on hiding underneath your bed, and people will assume you do, or won't. Following this simple advice saw to Dick curling up underneath his bed with blankets wrapped around him. He pressed himself into the corner, glad Alfred refused to let him shove anything and everything under his bed. The door clicked as it latched shut. The desk chair scraped against the floor before being propped under the handle. Red boots approached the bed, and Kid Flash looked underneath. He sighed and pulled his mask off.

"You okay, dude?" Wally asked.

"I'm not exactly what Robin would call whelmed."

"Well, whelmed or not, you can't stay curled up under that bed for the rest of the day. You need to eat and the Team is starting to freak out. Aqualad especially. He thinks it's his fault you ran off earlier."

"Good."

Wally groaned. What the hell is going on with you? You're acting like a jerk to them. They're our friends.

They're Robin's friends, not mine. 

Hate to break it to you, but they're the same person.

Dick snorted. You saw what Bats put me through when you found out. Do you really want me to go through that again?

No, but at least I got you to laugh. "Come on, Alfred made dinner."

"Not hungry."

Wally groaned and crawled under the bed. "Don't you dare make me drag you out."

"I'll bite," Dick said.

"Oh, wow, the teenager is willing to act like a five year old. How mature."

"If I break the skin, the wound will get infected. Biting is a pretty cool self-defense tactic. I mean, we can technically bite our fingers off, but our brain tells us not to," Dick said. "Why do you think Bruce told me to bite the people who try to kidnap me?"

Wally rolled his eyes and grabbed Dick's ankles. He dragged him out from under the bed and picked him up, careful of the cast. "So, are you going to tell me why you decided hiding was better than getting food? Or am I going to have to tell Bruce?"

"I hate having people watching me all the time," Dick brushed the question aside. I'm not used to all of the attention. Most of the time I can avoid the press, and I tend to stay out of the way at the Cave. I mean, almost everything I do requires me to stay out of sight. 

"We need to keep you safe. At least until Bats and Rob bring in Zucco," Wally said; Dick frowned and stared at his hands. A mirroring expression appeared on Wally's face. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing. Just tired." Wally didn't miss the shuddering sigh that emerged from Dick, nor the way his hands shook as he signed, I don't know if I'll be allowed to go with him. I don't see how I could with you guys here.

Uh, dude. You have a broken arm. I don't think he'd let you go with him anyway. "Let's get you some food, and then you can head to bed." Wally pulled his mask back up and ran a hand through his hair. "It's going to be such a pain wearing this the entire time."

Now you know how I feel at the Cave with those glasses.

It's always fun trying to figure out all the stuff with a new computer. But hey, I have a chapter done. Yay!

And I'm just gonna go

See yah