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He can see it blinking in the corner of the room, tubes and wires making a mess of it.
…10
The digital clock face that had been clumsily soldered onto it is blinking red, counting down the seconds.
…8
He lunged for it, pulse thundering in his ears and his heavy boots pounding against the floor.
…5
He just has too… he just has to what? What can he do? There's no time, he made a mistake, he had to get out of there. He’s on the basement level, there are no windows for him to crash through, no convenient ledges for him to throw himself off of. Just a concrete staircase behind him that he knows he won't be able to reach in time.
…3
But he still tried, turning on a dime, cape swishing around him as he threw himself towards the base of the staircase.
…2
It's worthless, and he knows it, but he still has to try, has to try.
…1
The alarm shrieks for just a second right before the bomb goes off.
The building goes down and it took Red Robin with it.
-
Tim blinked awake with a sharp gasp, pain splintering throughout his body.
Everything hurts.
He blinked against the grit that was seeping into his eyes from where his domino mask had been torn from his face, only seeing darkness. That wasn't good, that really wasn't good. The last thing he remembered was the bomb, watching as those red numbers counted down to nothing and then everything until now was blank.
That wasn't good. It meant that he had been knocked out for who knows how long. That meant there was potential for brain damage. He didn't feel brain damaged but that didn't mean anything in the long run
Tim took a deep breath, almost yelling when the motion crackled through his chest like fire. Okay, okay, so no more deep breaths, he could do that. He switched to short slow inhales that put less strain on what were likely cracked ribs. That sucked, rib damage always meant that he couldn't patrol until he was healed enough, which could take a while for ribs.
He coughed harshly, grounding at the pain that followed. He had to swallow when something coppery crept up his throat. Double not good, he did not want to deal with internal bleeding today. Or any day really.
He blinked again, eyes stinging but the darkness lightening until it was a dusky grey. He used the new found lighting to do an overview of his injuries and he did not like what he found. He was laying on his back, head propped up uncomfortably on a piece of concrete. One of his arms was being pinched between a fallen support beam and the floor, not hard enough to completely crush the limb, but enough that Tim can tell that there is definitely damage where he can't see it.
His legs feel relatively fine in a way that just means that Tim doesn't think that their shattered beyond repair, but they still hurt and he's pretty sure he can feel blood seeping into the fabric of his pants.
It's his torso that's worrying him the most. Tim peered down at himself, craning his neck so that he can survey whatever damage has been done. The first thing he sees is the growing red stain wetting the front of his suit, dripping down his ribs in a way that vaguely tickles. The second thing he sees is the pipe that is sticking into him right where his spleen would be if he still had it. Yeah, that really wasn't good.
He hissed through his teeth when he tried to shift, a tugging from underneath his side that tells him that the pipe is also impaled in the ground along with his side. The only bonus that Tim can think of for this situation is that at least the pipe isn't hitting any of his other organs. Or at least that's what he is assuming.
The pipe isn't that long from what he can see, the top of it only poking out of his skin by a few inches, dingy water stained metal standing almost straight up, pointing towards the rubble strewn ceiling.
He reached for his comm with a clumsy, blood slick glove, fingers trembling as they clicked it one.
“This is Red Robin requesting assistance. A bomb went off down by the Narrows, I was unable to defuse it in time.” Tim spoke into the little device in the steadiest voice that he could manage. It was silent for a few seconds before it crackled to life.
“I hear you loud and clear RR, me, Robin, Spoiler and Blackbat are already here, we’re focusing on evacuation while Red Hood and B-Man are going after the guy.” Nightwing spoke into the comm, the sound of crying civilians in the background.
Tim hadn't even considered that, too busy dealing with his own problems. The building that the bomb had been in had not been abandoned, there had still been people living there even if there had only been a few of them. Tim felt horrible, what kind of person was he to forget about civilians. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, and that he swallowed again when the lump refused to go down and was starting to taste strongly of blood.
“I need an extraction; the building came down-” Tim started before he was cut off.
“I’ll direct the EMT’s to your location when they arrive, just make sure the civilian is stable and try and hold on.” Nightwing stated, grunting as he presumably hauled a piece of concrete off of someone.
“No, I need-”
He was cut off again, but this time by a scream on the other side of the line.
“Sorry RR, going dark, sit tight and I'll contact you soon.” The comm line went silent.
“Nightwing?” Tim started, voice cracking, not quite believing, “Dick?”
There was no answer.
Tim hacked out a cough that had a scream springing to life behind his teeth. He tried the comms again.
“Spoiler? Blackbat?” he tried, voice trembling. “I’ll even take you Robin.” Again, there was no reply.
“I’m trapped; the building came down on me. If literally even a single person is listening right now. I need help, I need-” His voice broke on a hiccupping sob. Typical, of course this would happen to him. His luck was dogshit enough as it was and now, he had a building dropped on him.
If that wasn't the story of his life, then Tim didn't know what was.
“Okay Tim,” he muttered to himself, ignoring how he could feel a thin trail of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. “You’ll just have to get yourself out of this. You can do that. You've been doing this shit for years; you just have to…hngh.”
He groaned as he tried to sit up just enough to get the leverage needed to pull himself off of the pipe. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that he shouldn't be trying this, that leaving the metal in and waiting was the best idea, but everything was starting to warp. A hazy fuzziness that was dampening his ability to think.
He angled himself upwards, tugging gently at the arm that was trapped. It shifted a bit but the concrete above him responded by groaning. Tim froze, chest heaving as he braced for the tons of rubble to come crashing down on him at any second. It stayed in place, but Tim's heart kept Jack-rabbiting in his chest.
He didn't know how long he stayed still for before he decided that he had to keep moving, he laid there with his eyes blown wide and his body straining against the effort of staying still when he just wanted to curl up. Curling up would most probably just make everything worse but his brain was screaming at him to protect his vulnerable stomach. He laid on the uncomfortable stones that were digging into his back, vision spotting. The puddle of blood under him was only growing, leeching away his warmth before cooling under him. He was getting cold, the tips of his fingers tingling.
He tried one last time to pull himself up, panting and whining as he pulled himself up. The pipe in his side slid down just the smallest bit but it was enough to have the scream that Tim had been holding back bursting out of him. He screamed, blood flying from his mouth in droplets before falling back to speckle across his face. The scream was cut off by another cough.
He was going to die down here, wasn't he? He was going to die down here, buried under rubble. He was going to die like Jason had, blown up and buried, with no one there to save him. Tears bubbled up in his already watering eyes, building up on his waterline before they started dripping down his cheeks. They stung, the grit in his eyes scratching every time he blinked. He didn't want to die, he really didn't want to die.
“Bruce!” he screamed, his desperate voice bouncing back at him, “Dick! Please, I'm down here, I'm down here, please! Anyone!?”
He couldn't hear anything aside from the creaking island shifting of the rubble.
“Please,” He sobbed out, “It hurts!”
The air was getting stuffy, sweat beading on his brow and his hair plastering itself to his forehead, though it could also be blood. He panted, trying to suck in air that was slowly but surely becoming unbreathable.
He heard the comm click to life.
Tim’s ears were assaulted by noise for a moment when his comm finally connected to someone else's. He couldn't really believe it, nothing felt real. He could vaguely hear people talking over the rushing in his ears; Batman’s deep tenor, Nightwing saying something that Tim couldn't comprehend. They went silent immediately when Tim's gasping voice filtered over the line.
“-hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” He sobbed, voice cracking on a whine, “please-” his pleads were cut off by a gasp.
“Red Robin, where are you? What is your status?” Batman demanded, a frantic air that could only belong to Bruce hidden underneath the typical Batman growl.
“I tried- I tried to tell you but the comms were off! You turned them off, you turned them off-!” he choked out hysterically, more blood splattering from his mouth as he coughed, hacking up his inside in the suffocating rubble.
He heard a choked off sound of pain, probably Nightwing’s but he couldn't bring himself to care. Everything hurt and he could feel the way that his blood was leaking from his body. The human body could only lose a certain amount of blood before it was too late for them. Tim was pretty sure that he was getting close to that amount.
“Where are you?” It was Red Hood this time, they must've gotten the guy who had set off the bomb, he thought blearily.
“I’ma take another thing from you Hood,” Tim said, voice slurring.
“Oracle, trigger his emergency beacon.” someone said, and Tim heard Oracle hum her affirmative.
“And what would that be?” Came Jason’s idle reply.
“I took Robin, then I took the ‘Red’, now I'ma take the dyin’ under a buildin’ that got ‘sploded thing” He heaved out, talking was getting harder, each word having to be pushed out like a puff of air.
“What.” Jason’s voice sounded dead, any background noises that the other vigilantes might have been making stopped immediately.
“I was in the room with tha’ bomb,” the words felt funny, rolling around clumsily on his blood slicked tongue. “There wasn’ enough time, I couldn’ get out.”
There was silence before Oracle broke it with a: "His emergency signal has been triggered; I'm sending you all his location.”
“How hurt are you, Red Robin?” That was Steph, he liked Steph, she was a good friend, aside from those times where she wasn't
“Hi Steph, I'm good, super duper good. I can’ move one of m’ arms, and m’ legs hurt, but it's not tha’ bad.” He sniffled, tears dripping down his cheeks. The talking was helping. He could sob if he had to talk.
“That's good RR, that's really good.” There was a sigh of relief over the line. Tim felt kinda bad that he was about to burst that particular bubble.
“There’sa a pipe where my spleen should be, and m’ bleedin’ a lot, there's way too much blood.” he coughed again, spitting out a glob of blood, “I think I'm dying.” He said idly, the clearest thing he had been able to say in minutes.
“Theres a pipe in your side?!”
“You’re not dying.” Came a firm command.
Without warning, the building above him shifted. He screeched when the slabs of concrete trapping his arm ground together. He could feel the bones in his wrist grinding together and the joint of his elbow twisting in a way that ended with a loud pop. He tried to pull away, like a fox with its paw caught in a trap but he was pinned by the pipe in his side. He kicked out with his legs, hitting them against concrete. He needed to move; he needed to get out of there.
Fresh blood was welling up around his arm, warming him for a second before it cooled. That was his blood, he needed that.
He panted, sobbing just as hard as he had been before. Everything was on fire and breathing was getting harder.
“Red Robin, are you still there, what happened? We’re on our way, stay still.” Batman barked out, the sound of a grapple deploying following his words.
“Ow, ow ow. I don’ thin’ I could move even if I wanted to’” He cried, whining when he felt his elbow joint shift. “M’ elbow is dislocated now.”
“We’re almost there, Nightwing and Robin are less than a minute away,”
“Get Alfred to prepare the Med-bay and call Dr. Thomkins, tell her it's an emergency and that surgery is likely.”
“Me and R are here, I can get into the mouth of the staircase that leads down to the basement but it's pretty blocked. We're going to start moving what we can, but I don't know what will bring the building down if I touch it.” Came Nightwing’s voice over the comms.
Tim strained his ears for a second trying to see if he could hear Dick moving on the other side of the wall of rubble, but he couldn't make anything out. He tuned the comms out after that, letting the sounds wash over him as a rush of static as he let his eyes flutter closed. It felt good to close them, bringing relief to the sting that had been there. He was getting warm again, that was nice. He sighed heavily, letting his tense muscles go slack. He was tired and his body was getting heavy.
“Red Robin.”
Tim ignored the voice. Red Robin wasn't needed right now; there were other people there to help out. Red Robin could sleep.
“Tim.” Came a desperate call of his name.
Tim grunted, not willing to open his mouth to talk, but he had to make some sort of noise, only because they were asking for him and not Red Robin.
“Tim, I need you to talk to me, I need you to keep yourself awake. I know it's hard, but I need you to keep your eyes open.”
“Hurts.” He slurred out, forcing his mouth to move, “M’ tired,”
“I know sweetheart, but you have to stay awake. Can you do that for me, please?”
Tim would do anything for Bruce.
“Only fo’ you” he told him, voice barely above a whisper.
He tried to wrench his eyes open, only partially succeeding before they would flutter shut again. The air was too hot, sticking in the back of his throat with every inhale.
“I don’ wanna die Bruce.” He said into the dampening air, wheezing. He might've been shaking, he couldn't tell anymore, “Pleas’ dad, don't let m’ die.”
Someone might have been crying. Someone might've been swearing. Tim didn't care. He just laid there trying to breathe, blood trickling from his mouth and leaking out through the hole in his side. He tried, really, he did. But the call of the blackness was strong. He listened absently as the sounds of moving rubble got closer and closer, keeping himself awake through sheer force of will.
“Dad, m’ tired, can I g’ to sleep now?” He whispered, not even bothering to swallow the blood in his mouth. “Please?”
“No Tim, no, you can't sleep yet. Do not close your eyes, do not.” There was panic in the voice, threading through the tone, breaking through the distinct Batman voice. That wasn't Batman anymore, that was his dad, that was Bruce.
“Yeah, what he said, no sleeping baby bird, not yet. You have to let us get you out first.” Nightwing’s voice came after Bruce’s, the man sounded strained, panting.
“But m’ tired Dick, lemme sleep,”
“Cass told me to tell you that if you go to sleep then she’ll hit you, and then she’ll cry on you.” Steph said, sounding teary. That made sense, Cass was scary when she wanted to be.
Tim wheezed, feeling the air seeping from his lungs.
“‘orry, tell her m’ sorry. I can’ stay awake. M’ sorry.”
“No, no, Tim! You stay awake, keep those baby blues open for me.” Jason was there, grunting with the effort of moving something heavy.
Tim didn't reply, he couldn't. The exhaustion had sunk so far into his bones. Someone was yelling, calling his name over and over and over. Tim couldn't get himself to open his eyes. His mouth went slack, air leaving him in an exhale and he drifted off into the darkness.
-
Tim didn't think he would've woken up again. Not when he had lost so much blood and was so deep in the building, so when he blinked awake, eyelids unbelievably heavy, it didn't feel quite real. His whole body was heavy, heavy in a way Tim remembered from when he had lost his spleen. Everything hurt, his arms, legs, his side in particular.
There was a beeping sound nearby, the noise drilling into his temples. He groaned, tears leaking from his closed eyes. He tried to wrench his eyelids open but found that he couldn't. His heartrate picked up when he couldn't open his eyes, the tears coming faster as he was reminded of the last time he couldn't open his eyes.
Then there was a hand in his own, warm fingers wrapping around his smaller hand.
“It’s okay, you’re okay, you're in the med-bay.”
The med-bay? Tim didn't know how he would've gotten there. He had been under a building, there was no coming back from that.
He tried to talk, but all he could push out was a humming groan, eyes fluttering but not opening fully.
“Thats alright, you're okay, we’re all okay, you can go back to sleep. I'll tell you everything that happened when you actually wake up, but you're okay. Go to sleep sweetheart,”