Work Text:
Dick knew he’d gotten in over his head when he saw the number of people in the warehouse.
He’d been patrolling on his own. He didn’t need Batman. He was strong enough without the caped crusader shadowing his every step. He’d tried to tell Bruce that he didn’t need a babysitter, but Bruce never listened. Even though Robin wasn’t a kid anymore he still insisted on going with him.
So Dick snuck out. Just for tonight, and just to prove to Bruce that in no way does Robin need Batman’s help.
But he had to admit that his help was sounding pretty nice right about now.
He’d gotten word of the Riddler hiding in one of the abandoned warehouses by the docks so of course, he’d gone to investigate.
The warehouse had seemed strangely quiet, but Dick hadn’t questioned it at the time. He’d been thinking about how easy it was going to be to prove to Bruce that he could handle himself just fine on his own.
It had been a trap. The warehouse was swarming with more henchmen than could be expected to hide there.
The Riddler and his gang had knocked him out like it had been child's play. One of the henchmen came around behind him and stuck a needle in his neck before he could even think.
And if that was bad enough, by the time he came to, The Riddler was already making demands for Batman, on what Dick could only assume was live television.
He could make that assumption based on the camera angle (Not facing him, though he assumed that would only be a matter of time) and also the henchman that Dick could see who seemed to be watching the live broadcast even though he was in the same room it was happening in.
Mostly that second one.
Dick had decided to play possum, so making the previous observations had been difficult, but thankfully made easier by the fact that he could open his eyes entirely due to the lenses in his mask.
He was feeling numb, and his mask blocked out the peripheries enough that he couldn’t tell how he was restrained. He could tell he was being held upright by people though, so if luck would have it, he could fight his way out of this, no untying himself necessary.
Though he was a little concerned about the giant hole he was standing at the edge of, with the Riddler and his camera on the other.
“--The Boy Wonder!” The Riddler said when Dick finally zoned in on what the Riddler was saying.
This couldn’t be good.
“But this works out better for me because now I have leverage !” He continued, “Capturing Batman is one thing because it would take quite a bit more to persuade you to do what I want, but now I have Robin!”
Correction, this wasn’t good. Like definitely.
“Alright, Batman !” The Riddler said with glee, “Riddle me this! What’s gray, has spikes, and runs around a field?”
The drug in his system was wearing off quickly, but not fast enough. His limbs were tingling, but he could tell now that his gloves and boots were gone and that his arms were stretched out to the sides, though loosely, like his restraints weren’t entirely taught.
He almost smirked anyway. If he wasn’t pretending to be unconscious, he would have made a joke about being Rose from Titanic by now. He could feel something wrapped around his wrists, but his arms were being held up by the henchman, hence the titanic reference.
He should have realized something was wrong when the camera and the lights swung to point at him. He hadn’t even tried to solve the riddle. The drugs must’ve been wearing off slower than he thought,”
“Answer: Barbed Wire!” The Riddler cried, “Now boys! This ought to wake up the resting Robin!”
Before Dick could even think to do something about it, he was shoved down the hole. He didn’t even try to pretend he’d been asleep. But nothing he tried even came close to making it so he wasn’t falling to his doom.
Then his restraints pulled taught, and Dick was suddenly reminded of the answer to the riddle.
The barbed wire wrapped around his wrists had apparently been loose enough that he wouldn’t be woken up by it, but when shoved into the hole, the wire cinched around his wrist so tightly that it would have cut off circulation, but Dick was sure they’d wrapped it so all the pointy bits were pointed in toward his hand.
Dick screamed, his vision whiting out as he felt the pieces of metal shove their way into the exposed flesh.
But of course, that couldn’t be the end of it because of course not. It was like he was being punished for sneaking out in the worst way possible.
His shin slammed into another piece of wire and he cried out again at the agony of it.
This piece of wire was spanned across the length of the hole like a tightrope, and he’d just slammed into it.
Dimly, Dick realized he might have an out of all the pain so he scrambled up so that he was standing on the wire, instead of dangling by his wrists.
It wasn’t a perfect solution by any means. His trembling legs needed to support him on a wire only barely thick enough to even hold him, and with his feet bare, he could feel it practically slice into him as he adjusted the positions of his feet so they were as far away from the barbed part as possible.
But if anyone could hold this position for however long it took Bruce to get here, it was one of the Flying Freaking Graysons.
He panted as he held himself, transitioning as much weight to his feet as he could to take away from the strain on his arms.
He supposed he should be grateful to the barbs for not turning his restraints into a tourniquet. He kept his eyes on his hands and they weren’t turning that reddish purple color that they would if it was. Tourniquets are only a last resort and Dick didn’t really feel like losing his hands today.
But then he saw the blood. He felt stupid for not thinking about that first. He was also lucky that the barb that had pierced his radial artery was still in there so he wouldn’t, you know, bleed to death!
He watched the blood leak slowly down his arms, grateful it was just his right radial artery that had been breached because he wasn’t sure what he would do if it was both arms, but for now, he could give priority to that one.
“Well, Riddler!” he called up, “With all this rough treatment, I’m starting to take offense! Get it? A fence? Like barbed wire’s intended purpose?” He let out a little chuckle for himself, but even he’d been able to hear how strained his voice was.
“See, Batman? You’ve got one hour to do what I ask before you find out there’s more than one way to make an omelet!”
Dick kept his breathing even. He didn’t know what the riddler wanted Bruce to do, but it couldn’t be good. From what the Riddler was saying, Robin hadn’t even been his intended target.
Dick didn’t know how long he stood there, but it was long enough that the blood running down from his right hand was probably going to permanently stain his sleeve. He could feel himself getting dizzy, but he needed to remain vigilant. He could feel the blood from his shin on his foot now, causing the grip of his left foot to be a little precarious.
After what he was sure had been close to an hour, though he had a sneaking suspicion it hadn’t been near that long, he looked up, trying not to upset his fragile balance. He spotted a shadow pass along the front of a window. He didn’t think anyone else noticed.
He would have sagged in relief if it weren’t for the fact that that would be really bad. Batman was here .
It was time to do his job of providing a colorful distraction.
“Hey!” Dick shouted, “What’s a guy gotta do for a bathroom break around here?”
He was just met with the sound of someone yelling, “Shut up!”
“Well, that’s kind of rude!” Dick called back, “Standing like this probably feels worse than whatever your position is, sir , but I’m not being mean about it!”
Dick could see several henchmen standing around the hole now, probably just watching the show.
The one henchman who had apparently been talking to him was on his left side. The man looked down at him angrily, “I said, shut up, brat!”
“Well, if you wanted me not to talk, you should have taken measures to prevent me from doing so!” Dick said.
Dick braced himself for whatever sort of punishment would come from his snarkiness, but it never came.
Batman was here, jumping down from the ceiling rafters like an angel of death. Dick shut his eyes when a wave of nausea hit him, and he had to ride it out.
He wasn’t given the opportunity to fully recover when Dick suddenly heard a loud twang.
Someone had cut the left wire holding his arm up and suddenly Dick was balancing for real. For a sickening second, he thought he was going to fall off, probably resulting in some sort of nasty tearing and bleeding out, but he barely managed to stay on, cursing whoever had decided that was a good idea.
But one good thing came from this, and it was that he could move now. Dick looked down at his feet, and he had to fight back some nausea. The barbs were really close together. Almost too close for him to do this.
He took a deep breath, and then took his first step. There were only about ten yards before he could stand on solid ground again, he could do this. He may be dizzy from blood loss and be close to throwing up, but he needed to get there.
He reached his left hand up to his right now that he had a little slack. His left hand was bleeding and would certainly bleed more, but the long strand of wire would only be detrimental to his success, and he didn’t have anything to cut it with. He gently unwound the barbed wire, holding in screams as he yanked out the parts that were going into his flesh.
His arm was now bleeding freely, but the wire was gone, so he continued along his way. The sooner he got to the edge, the sooner he could get his wrist wrapped and be on his way.
He just had to be slow and careful, and he would make it.
He almost made it.
He was so close to the edge, but he got sloppy. He forgot about the blood that had made its way down to his foot. On one of his last few steps, he didn’t remain extra careful about the slipperiness of his foot before he put his weight on it.
Dick cried out as he slipped. He lunged forward, but the edge was only just out of reach.
The extra slack the wire had would give him a few seconds before he’d feel the impact, so he squeezed his eyes shut.
A gloved hand snatched his at the last moment, and Dick swung forward and hit the wall, but luckily he managed not to damage his right hand further.
Dick nearly cried in relief at the sight of his mentor's face, “Holy crucial moment, Batman,”
Batman merely grunted in response as he pulled Dick up to the edge. Dick’s feet felt like fire, but he didn’t dare complain.
“Robin, report,” Batman said, ever so serious.
Dick told him about all his injuries, and Batman set to work with the first aid. He didn’t even complain when Dick threw up on his boots.
Sometimes Dick didn’t want a partner. He wanted to be a lone wolf and strike out on his own.
Other times? He was pretty glad to have Batman on his team.