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“Joey,” Dick gasped, feeling his breath stutter in his lungs. He tries to pull at the restraining arms around him, and distantly he realises he could easily unhand the man, but—
“Joey! Joey— no, Joey. Please, he needs medical attention, he’ll bleed out if—“
“SHUT UP!” The leader roared. “Shut, UP!” He punctuates with a wave of his gun. The very, very not safe gun that put a bullet into Joey.
Dick flinches a little when the gun is aimed at Joey again, collapsed on the floor and trying to reassure Dick with a pained smile, hand clutching the wound with pressure to lessen the bleeding.
He wouldn’t last long, if Dick couldn’t get to him in time.
“Please,” He begs, swallowing down a dry sob. “He didn’t do anything— you have to let me help him!”
The sirens are deaf to his ears, familiar red and blue flickering immediately pushed back to the background where white envelops the rest of the world.
“Aw shit, the cops!”
“Not your biggest problem, buddy,” a modulated voice cheers.
The room erupts in chaos, and Dick slams his heel into his assailant’s shin to get free, rushing straight towards Joey. His hands automatically raise to press over the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.
“Dick,” Joey weakly signs, bringing his hand up to make the sign for “fly” ending with a “d” over his heart.
“Hey, hey, everything’s gonna be alright,” Dick murmurs, “Just— Just hold on, and—“
His voice breaks, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut trying to stop the tears from leaking.
It doesn’t work.
There’s a soft hand on his face, and he reluctantly opens them again, a thumb brushing across his cheek to wipe away the stray tear.
“Sir,” there’s a hand on his shoulder, but he can’t look away from Joey. “You need to give us room to work.”
“No, I can’t—“
“Mister Grayson,” Steph interrupts from the other side, Spoiler’s mask not hiding her eyes, attempting to be reassuring.
“It’s okay,” Joey signs at him, lips quirked up at the edges.
“Okay,” he chokes out, “Okay.”
Immediately when he removes his hands and moving back, there’s a set of hands replacing his, keeping Joey’s blood inside him as best they could. Dick watches helplessly as they carry him into the ambulance, only able to hope that his friend would come out of this alright.
. . .
(There’s a gunshot.)
. . .
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
. . .
(The gang leader falls.)
, . .
It’s not fair — Joey had retired from the hero game completely. And now— now he was targeted as a civilian, because of Dick?
“I can hear your mind working,” Spoiler gives him a look. They’re mostly alone, having migrated to the wall of the restaurant while everyone else gathered in the center of the floor. Their hushed conversation would be too soft for anyone to hear.
“I shouldn’t have agreed to this,” Dick runs his hands down his face, rubbing over his eyes. “Should have gone somewhere else, could’ve stayed in—“
“Dick, this isn’t your fault!” Steph hisses, calming hand on his arm for the public like they weren’t about to start arguing.
“If I hadn’t suggested coming here,” Dick started lowly, “This wouldn’t have happened.”
“No one could have anticipated that those people would decide to shoot up this restaurant!”
“It’s still my fault he got hurt, Steph.”
She doesn’t reply immediately, head cocked to the side just the slightest as her eyes narrow on him. Then, she takes out an earpiece, shoving it into his hand. They glare at each other for a second, before Dick reluctantly puts it on.
“Firstly, you’re a dumbass.” Was the first thing Dick heard the moment he put the earpiece on. “I don’t want to hear anything about this whole ordeal being your fault.”
Dick sighed, “Babs.”
“No, it’s not your bloody fault. Second, Joey will be fine.”
“What if something goes wrong? What if there’s someone else and they find him and—“
“I’ve got the rest of their gang down,” Jason, in a sarcastically cheerful tone, crackles over.
“See? Everything’s handled, Joey will be fine, and you can go confess your love to him,” Steph exasperatedly says.
Dick splutters, “Confess my love?!”
“We can all see you two make lovey-dovey eyes at each other all the time,” Steph rolls her eyes.
“Yeah… you aren’t very subtle,” Tim absentmindedly chips in, sounding vaguely apologetic.
“I do not— whatever,” Dick groans. Grumbling under his breath about annoying siblings, he stalks away, pocketing the earpiece and pushing past the crowd to his car.
Rushing to the hospital, his heart wasn’t hammering as fast as it otherwise would’ve been had his siblings not intervened between him and his paranoia. Drumming his fingers on the wheel, he curses the traffic, hoping that the ambulance Joey was in had an easier time getting to their destination.
It seemed he was just worried over nothing, when he wakes up to the doctor calling him.
“Wha—?” Dick blinks, before remembering where he was.
“Is he alright?” Dick asks, pushing himself up off the plastic chair in the hallway. “Is Joey okay?”
“Luckily, everything is fine. The bleeding had already stopped by the time the ambulance arrived, I’ve heard it was in part thanks to you, and the surgery was successful.”
Relief hit Dick all at once at the confirming words, “Can… can I see him?”
The woman nodded, “He just woke up and he’s been asking for you. He might be a little out of it, though, from the anaesthetics.”
Dick rushes into the room once the words have left the doctor’s mouth, immediately locking onto a bored-looking Joey. Dick wordlessly takes the offered hand, knowing it was more for Dick’s benefit as a reassurance than him actually comforting Joey.
“I told you I’ll be fine,” Joey signed on one hand, raising a brow with an accompanying squeeze, and Dick allows a laugh to escape.
“You did,” Dick affectionately replies, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m glad too,” Joey signed, “Because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do this.”
Dick blinks, “Wha—“
His brain freezes.
He melts into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut against his own will.
Joey pulls back, and Dick can’t help but feel breathless at the affection in Joey’s eyes directed at him.
“Joey,” Dick starts, unable to formulate the rest of his words.
“I love you,” Joey signs again, kissing him softly again.
“I love you too,” Dick whispers back between them.
. . .
That was how it was supposed to go, Dick thinks, cradling his friend to his chest as he silently wept on the floor of the restaurant.
Joey was supposed to be fine, he was supposed to get the medical attention he needed, his siblings would tease him for his obvious crush on the youngest Wilson, and they would be happy.
His friend shouldn’t be cold and lifeless in his arms, unaware of his surroundings.
His friend — because that’s all they could be now.
“Joey,” Dick gasps out, a full-body sob rocking them slightly.
Joey shouldn’t be dead trying to protect Dick.
Joey shouldn’t be dead as a civilian because of some no-named gang leader.
But he was.
And Dick can’t feel anything but a crushing weight of despair settling over him.
There’s a whisper of your fault — and he can’t do anything but close his eyes, tightening his grip around Joey like that would be enough to bring him back to life.