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The sound of Dick Grayson in pain was one that Bruce Wayne never got used to. Every time he heard even the slightest noise of discomfort from his eldest, it triggered some paternal instinct he kept forgetting he had.
When they were in the field together, even now that Dick had left the role of Robin and become Nightwing instead, the instinct became ferocious. Bruce trusted Dick more than he trusted anyone else on the planet. And he had to admit he was rather fond of the kid.
They were up against some of Joker's henchmen currently. Bruce thought it would be simple enough: take out the bad guys to protect the bank. But naturally, nothing was that simple when dealing with Joker. He had sent his minions with new toys, and Bruce was having a harder time than normal dodging them all. He was focused on one man in particular when it happened.
"Ahh!"
Bruce's head whipped around to see Dick stagger away from one of the henchman, one hand hovering over the opposite shoulder protectively. Bruce flung a Batarang with a bit more force than necessary at his previous opponent, downing him. Then he stalked toward Dick's attacker, intent on returning his protege's pain. Dick fell backward into the wall as Bruce pounded the scum into the floor.
"Batman," Dick said, though it was more than a bit strained, "he's down. Stop."
Bruce stood, panting heavily, and looked around. That was the last henchman.
He crossed the space between himself and Dick quickly, looking the younger man over. Dick didn't move; he left his hand over his shoulder as if he wanted to touch it, but didn't want to make it worse.
"Let me see," Bruce said gently, slowly reaching for Dick's hand.
Dick allowed it to be moved, revealing roughly 20 small shards of metal embedded in his shoulder. They had broken through the fabric of his new suit and into the soft flesh beneath. Bruce muttered something unintelligible then met Dick's eyes. Well, the lenses of his mask, at least.
"You'll last, but you'll have to keep it still. The police will already be on their way. If I deal with it now, we risk getting caught. What do you think?"
Dick grimaced, but nodded along.
"It's like you said. I'll last. Let's get out of here."
Bruce nodded, and they both began to climb their way back toward the Batwing, with Dick occasionally letting out a pained noise or two. Dick slid into the passenger seat of the Batwing and leaned his head back against the seat, sweat glistening in the low light emanating from the display.
When they landed in the Batcave, Bruce jumped out without a second thought, expecting Dick to follow. When he didn't, Bruce's heart did that thing that made it hard to breathe. He ripped off his cowl and made his way to the other side of the Batwing, where Dick was unconscious, breath labored. Bruce -- as gently as possible -- lifted the boy from the passenger seat and carried him to a table set aside for this sort of scenario.
He immediately set to work, using the voice command on the Bat-computer to page Alfred and Jason for assistance. Nearly 20 minutes later, Dick opened his eyes.
"Hngh... what?"
Jason breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank God, dude."
Bruce helped Dick into a sitting position, legs dangling over the edge of the table, and smiled.
"Turns out that tech they used was laced with some kind of poison. The Bat-computer is still analyzing it, but it managed an antidote."
"Ah, that'll do it..." Dick said, a dry chuckle escaping him. "Thanks, guys."
Bruce's stomach settled for the first time that night at the words. He offered a small smile. For now, everything was fine.