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It’s funny how, at the time, Steph didn’t even realise the warehouse had exploded. One second, she was yelling something stupid at Dick, laughing as she vaulted over an abandoned desk. The next, she was flying through the air, as it seemed like the world ended around her.
The noise was incredible. It was so loud that it almost wasn’t sound. Just percussion. And it was so stupid, but the first thought in her head as she catapulted through space was that this was probably going to really mess up her hair.
Then she slammed into something hard with a sickening crunch and she suddenly couldn’t think much of anything anymore.
She blinked into awareness a few moments later. She didn’t think she’d even truly been out, although everything had been murky and confusing for a few seconds. That was good. Losing consciousness for even a little bit could mean a serious head injury. And Steph wanted to avoid that if at all possible.
She lay still. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Although she hadn’t lost consciousness, her temple throbbed sickeningly. In fact, the whole right side of her body was screaming. Pain radiated from her shoulder in nauseating waves. Her arm felt numb and the side of her body was stiff. She wasn’t sure if she could move. Wasn’t sure if she could even turn her head.
It was dark. Steph blinked rapidly but her vision didn’t clear. She couldn’t tell if it was her eyes or maybe her head, or maybe that it was just dark. If the whole building had collapsed around her, there might not be any light getting through.
The thought sent a pulse of fear through her. The building had collapsed or exploded or maybe been shot up and Steph had been caught inside it and she might have survived the initial impact but who knew what was going to happen afterwards?
What if it had been an earthquake? Those had aftershocks didn’t they? What if it collapsed fully onto her and crushed her to death? What if she couldn’t get out and she suffocated in here? Or dehydrated? Or what if she was bleeding out and she only had minutes to spare?
Her heart throbbed in her throat and her head throbbed right alongside it in agonising synchronicity.
And…and Nightwing. Nightwing was here. He might be hurt too. He might be crushed.
“Nightwing!” she tried to shout. The word came out gurgled, mangled to nothing in her throat. She tried to clear it but choked on bloody phlegm.
She felt the sting of tears. Suddenly she wanted Dick here so badly. Wanted him to comfort her. To tell her what to do and how to get out of here.
“Nightwing,” she tried again. It was barely any louder. A pathetic little sound.
But…there… it was hard to hear over the ringing in her ears, but was that movement?
Her throat tightened. It could be Dick, but it could just as easily be shifting debris or perhaps there had been someone else in the building with them. Someone that would hurt her if they found her.
There was a click. Then, light, an ugly, unnatural yellow, but light nonetheless. Steph stared upward. She could make out some bulky shapes in the darkness, but nothing else.
“Spoiler?”
The tears spilled over. It was him. Dick was here.
“I’m here,” she croaked. She coughed a little behind it, tasting blood. “Nightwing, I’m here.”
There were some indistinct sounds. A low, pained groan. The shuffle of someone dragging themselves across the ground. Then something brushed her leg.
She jolted. The movement sent shattering pain through her body. She moaned.
“Shit. Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Spoiler. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Dick was suddenly leaning over her. His face was shockingly pale and sickly looking in the yellow light. “Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”
There was a worried crease between his eyebrows as he looked her over. His domino mask was torn, revealing one blue eye, dark with blood that had leaked into the sclera. More blood coated the side of his face, a dark river of it running from somewhere under his hair.
Steph was tempted to brush it off. To tell him that it was fine, but if there was anything that training with Bruce had taught her, it was that hiding injuries only made everything worse. And, really, she had no idea how badly she was hurt.
“My shoulder,” she gasped. “And my arm…my - my ribs.” All the talking was making the pain worse. She could feel her muscles seizing, contracting in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. It hurt so badly that she could barely breathe.
“Okay, alright,” Dick said, gently. She felt his fingers touch her, so softly that she could barely feel it, but she still flinched before she could stop herself. “Shhh, Spoiler it’s alright.”
She wondered what her face was doing. Why he was shushing her like that, why he seemed so shaky and frantic. She felt a nauseating surge of anxiety.
“What about you, N? You’re bleeding. Your face.”
He blinked, then reached up and touched the blood on his cheek like he hadn’t even realised it was there. “I’m fine,” he said.
Steph gritted her teeth against a spasm of pain. “Come on. I know we had the same lecture from B.”
Dick hesitated, then looked down at himself as if taking stock properly for the first time. “My ankle is broken, I think. Hard to tell. Could just be a bad sprain. Hit my head. I was out for a couple seconds I think.”
That wasn’t great, but it could be much worse. He seemed pretty cognizant, at least.
“Any vision issues? Nausea?” She swallowed. Tried to remember the mental checklist for head injuries. “Headache?”
“Mild headache,” Dick said, as Steph’s own temple throbbed in sympathy. “But I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. I’m going to check you for any bleeding you might not be feeling, okay?”
“Okay,” Steph said, voice small.
The light moved as Dick shuffled around, aiming it at different areas of her body, frowning in concentration. “Nothing I can see right now,” he said, moving his face back into her line of sight. “But your suit is dark so it could be hiding a bleed. Let me know if you start feeling light headed or nauseas.”
Steph felt blood in her throat. “Both,” she said, with a weak smile.
Dick didn’t laugh. His frown deepened. “Well, tell me if they get worse. I don’t think there’s any point wrapping your arm. I don’t want to make anything worse. Just try not to move, okay, I’m going to try the comms.”
He moved away a little, again. A moment later, static crackled through her ear piece. Even if both their comms were working, Steph wouldn’t be able to hear him. At a certain proximity, they would mute, to prevent an uncomfortable echo.
“Oracle, Batman? Is anyone picking this up?”
More static. Steph strained to hear, her heart pounding. Was that a voice, distorted into unrecognition? Or was that just her wishful thinking?
“O?” Nightwing said again, a desperate sort of hope in his voice.
More silence. Eventually, Dick sighed and let his hand fall with a soft thump.
“Doesn’t seem like the comm is damaged, but I think the rubble might be blocking us.”
Steph shivered. The thought of being underneath all that debris. Of it being so thick that it had entirely isolated them from the outside, made all of the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
“Oracle knew we were here though,” she said, hating how small her voice sounded. “She’ll have already seen it go down. They’ll be here.”
“Of course they will,” Dick said. He sounded so confident that Steph felt the pressure in her chest lighten. “And I’m hoping that the signal will be strong enough for us to get through to them when they get closer. It shouldn’t be long now.”
They lapsed into uncomfortable silence. Around them, the rubble creaked ominously. Steph wanted to sit up, but she was afraid of the pain in her shoulder and neck and, honestly, she didn’t see much point in risking making it worse. Dick was sitting close enough that she could see him if she tilted her head enough.
He was rummaging through his belt, a look of concentration on his face. Occasionally, he gripped his leg and Steph felt a pang of sympathy in her own injuries.
Then, suddenly, there was a crackle on the comms.
“Nightwing? Spoiler?”
Oh, thank God. That was Batman’s voice. He was here. He would get them out.
Dick scrambled to open his own comm. “Here, we’re here Batman.”
“Are you injured?”
If he was worried, it was almost impossible to tell from the flat line of his voice. Steph thought that maybe she should be angry at that but instead it made her feel…safe.
“Possible broken ankle and a head bump. Spoiler’s shoulder is injured, possible broken arm, probably broken ribs. I think she probably got a bump too.”
“Okay. Stay where you are. We’re going to get you free, but the rubble is very unstable. If you’re in a safe position, hold it.”
“Rodger,” Nightwing said, his own relief obvious in his voice. “We’ll -“
Maybe Steph should have appreciated the irony. Instead, the deep rumble of shifting debris and the crashing sound of something barrelling towards them, only sent sharp fear shooting up her spine.
“Spoiler!” Nightwing yelled.
She felt the impact of his body first, the press of his arms around her as he caged her in. A moment later, a crushing, intense pressure on one of her feet. A pain so strong and sudden that she could do nothing but scream in impossible agony. Distantly, she could hear Dick screaming right along with her, his voice lower but no less pained.
Then, a thud, the horrible wet crack of something impacting bone. The sudden cut off of Dick’s voice. Something rolling across her injured shoulder. Her body convulsing as her nerves sent rapid, scattered pulses. Then, the utter relief of unconsciousness.
She woke screaming. She jerked, trying desperately to escape the pain, but she was pinned from all sides. She gagged. Her eyes rolled blindly in her head. She passed out again.
This time when she came to, her head felt a little bit clearer. The pain was still there - God, the pain, a crushing, radiating agony that seemed to spike through her whole body all the way from her foot to the top of her head - but she could think a little around it.
“-ler. Can you answer me? Nightwing. Spoiler. Respond.”
Steph gasped for breath. There was a weight on her chest, crushing her lungs, stoppering her air. The pressure on her foot was so terrible. She needed it gone. She needed -
“-wing. Spoiler. Resp-“
“Get it off,” she screamed. “Get it off me! Get it off!”
“Spoiler,” said a voice in her ear. She didn’t know who it was. She didn’t know why they weren’t helping her. “Spoiler, report.”
She sobbed, helplessly. Batman. That was Batman. He needed her to answer. She needed -
“Help,” she managed, pathetically, her throat torn raw from screaming, her lungs crushed. “Please help me.”
“We’re going to help you, I promise. But I need you to tell me what happened.”
What happened? She didn’t know. There had been - “Debris,” she choked. “There was - something -“
Blood gurgled in her throat. She coughed. Gagged. It ran down her chin.
“Something…crushed us…”
“Crushed you?” Batman asked and now she could hear the tightness in his voice. “It looks like the rubble might have moved. Are you trapped?”
“Yes,” Steph sobbed. “Please, get me out. It hurts. It hurts.”
“Is Nightwing there?”
Nightwing. Dick. He’d flung himself on top of her. She’d heard him scream, then the sudden, final cut-off. He was…he had to be here. Where was he?
“Nightwing,” she slurred. “He -“
He’d been on top of her. There was something pressing down on her chest. Something crushing her.
“Yes, Spoiler, Nightwing. Can you see him?”
No, she couldn’t see anything through the darkness. Where was the glow stick? Was she blind? Had she hit her head?
The weight on her…
With immense effort, she lifted her uninjured arm and pressed at the thing on top of her. It was warm. Slick. She fumbled at it but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Her hand was numb and wet. Was that an arm? A waist?
“Spoiler,” Batman said, sharp. “Is he there?”
It was Dick. It had to be. It was too soft to be debris. Too warm. She pressed at the curve of what might be a shoulder. Slid her hand across his neck. Yes. It was him. He was…he was…
“Oh god,” she moaned. It was a low animal sound. “Oh god. He’s dead.” She choked. Drooled whatever liquid was in her mouth across her cheek. “He’s dead.”
Batman made a sound on the other side of the comms that Steph would never forget. Not that she imagined she’d have much longer to remember it. It was a terrible choking noise, as if he were the one being crushed by rubble.
“He’s dead,” Steph repeated. Her own voice was rising with each repetition. She could hear how shrill she was. “He’s dead.”
“Spoiler -“
“Oh my god. He’s dead.”
She couldn’t stop saying it. Screaming it. Nightwing was dead. In his final moments he’d lunged on top of her, boxed her in, saved her, and now he was lying lifeless on top of her, squeezing the breath from her lungs as she struggled for life.
A small part of her wished she would die right there. Could she live with this? This memory? Her friend’s corpse cooling on top of her? Her friend dying because of her?
“Spoiler,” Batman said, and the tone of his voice implied he’d already said it several times. “Please.” It broke. Cracked. Batman’s voice was breaking. “Are you sure? Can you feel a pulse?”
She pawed at what she thought was his neck. She couldn’t feel anything.
Then Nightwing groaned, lowly, and puked across her shoulder.
“Nightwing,” she sobbed, relief making her dizzy. “You’re - god, don’t do that to me.” She couldn’t help but laugh, although the sound was strained and wet. She touched what might be his hair. He groaned again.
“Nightwing?” Batman asked. “Is he -?”
The body on top of her jerked a little. Nightwing made an animal sound of pain. He was panting.
“B?” he asked, although the word was breathless and so small she could barely hear it. “Wha-“
He made a choking noise. His body spasmed again.
“It’s okay, N,” Steph said, as soothingly as she could manage, although nothing was okay. “B thinks the rubble shifted, but they’re coming to get us.”
“Just hold tight,” Batman said in her ear. “We’re coming to you, I promise.”
“B?” Nightwing said again. He made a horrible rasping gasp. “St’phhh?”
“I’m here,” Steph murmured. She could feel her grasp on consciousness slipping again, light-headed with relief, the pain in her foot a sharp, unceasing agony. She tried to pet him reassuringly, but could barely feel her own fingers.
“Wha- hurts. My - h’rts. My legs.” He gagged, although it didn’t sound like he was actually puking this time. He shivered so hard that she felt it where he was pressed against her.
“It’s okay,” Steph said, a little helplessly. “B’s coming.”
He went silent, then. Steph thought he might have passed out again. It was hard to tell. She could feel herself drifting. Batman was talking to her - to them - but she let the words wash over her.
Dick made another odd sound and Steph startled into awareness. Shit, she should be trying to keep him awake, shouldn’t she? It was pretty clear that he hit his head when he lunged over her. And he’d hit his head already. Second impact syndrome could be deadly.
“My -“ He heaved in a huge, rattling breath. “My - legs. They’re - they okay?”
“They’re fine,” Steph lied. Her throat felt thick. Her own foot was still sending shattering pain through her body. She’d half-expected it to go numb, but, if anything, the agony only seemed to be increasing with every second that went by.
“My legs,” Dick said, then made an ugly, wet sound and puked again. Steph cringed, feeling something hot and slick splatter against her injured shoulder. “M’ legs okay? ‘M I - ‘m I ‘kay?”
“You’re okay, Dick,” she said, although he very clearly wasn’t. He’d puked twice already, after two different blows to the head. A period of unconsciousness. He was slurring and confused. His legs - whatever had crushed her foot had probably also injured him.
“You?” he asked. His throat worked, in a way that sounded like he was struggling to swallow. “You ‘kay?”
“I’m okay, Dick. We’re both okay. Batman is gonna come get us.”
“Kon has started clearing the rubble,” a voice said. Tim. When did he get here? Had he been talking all along and Steph hadn’t heard him? “We have a good approximation of your location. It shouldn’t take long.”
Steph sobbed a little.
“Steph,” Dick slurred. “You ‘kay?”
“I’m okay, Dick,” Steph managed. Her own head was throbbing and Dick was still a heavy weight over her chest. The air was hot and close and stank of vomit and blood and sweat.
How long was not long? Steph wasn’t sure if she could keep holding on like this. She wanted to drift again. She wanted to sleep. She was so, so tired. The only thing keeping her awake was the burning in her foot. The spasming agony up her leg and side and shoulder.
And Dick. Dick, who she was supposed to be keeping awake. Dick, who was probably dying.
He was making quiet noises of pain, breathing in these horrible rasping gasps. “Am I - huh - ‘m okay? My legs. Hurts.”
“You’re okay, Dick,” she said. Something hot was trickling over her face. She wasn’t sure what it was.
He lapsed into another long silence.
“Dick?” Steph asked. She patted clumsily at whatever part of him was currently under her hand. “Dick, come on.”
There was no response. She held her breath. Tried to listen for those rasping gasps, for anything that might indicate he was still alive.
“You both need to stay awake,” Batman said, suddenly loud in the comms. “Can you do that for me? Stay awake, okay?”
“We’re nearly there,” Tim said. “Just hold on a little longer.”
Steph blew her breath out in an explosive gust. “Dick,” she said. Her voice was impossibly loud in her ears. “Dick! Dick, please. Dick!”
“Nightwing.” Batman’s voice was sharp. “Respond.”
Dick jerked, sending a spasm of pain through Steph’s chest. She gritted her teeth against it. Felt more hot liquid on her face.
“St’ph?” he asked, voice barely audible.
“I’m here.”
“You ‘kay?”
“I’m okay.”
“‘M I okay? ‘M I -“
“You’re fine, Dick. But you have to stay awake, okay? Stay awake for me.”
She felt like she could scream. Where was Kon? Why hadn’t they gotten them out yet?
“Steph?” Dick said.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
He huffed. Breathed wetly against her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Dickie, I’m fine.”
“We have a path to you,” Batman said, ignoring Dick’s scattered questions. The repetition had to mean something terrible right? It probably meant his brain was completely fucked, but Batman was talking like he hadn’t even noticed. Something about that made the tight squeeze in Steph’s chest a little looser. “You might notice some tremors or moving debris. Let us know immediately if it feels like it’s too close, okay?”
“Okay,” Steph said, voice small.
“My legs,” Dick slurred in her ear. “Steph, I think -“
He sucked in a sharp breath. His body went rigid against her. Then, suddenly, he was convulsing, spasming on top of her, like he was trying to wriggle his way free, without any concern for the fact that she was beneath him.
A flailing arm clocked her across the jaw. A heavy weight pressed into her side, then her arm, her shoulder. She screamed.
“Stop! Dick, stop!”
“What’s happening?” Batman’s voice, urgent, loud even beneath her screaming. “Spoiler, what’s wrong?”
Dick jerked and flopped like a fish. Steph screamed again as his head collided with her shoulder and pain starburst out from the point of contact, reverberating through her whole body.
“Spoiler!”
“He’s seizing,” she gasped.
Through the pain and the terror she was aware that this was Very Bad. Dick was ticking off traumatic brain injury symptoms like he was trying to win the bingo.
“Get us out!” she screamed. “Get us out. Get us out!”
Above them, rubble groaned. There was the scrape of concrete on metal. Steph tried to wrap her good arm around Dick’s head as best she could, although if something else fell on them now, she knew they wouldn’t survive.
“Batman!” she shrieked, her throat raw and bloody.
His reply was lost in another Earth-shattering rumble. Steph shut her eyes tight, clasped Dick’s shaking form against her, and prayed.
Light fell across her face. There was an enormous cacophony of sound. Steph’s whole body seemed to rock with it. For a moment, Steph wondered if she were dead.
Then: “Oh my god! Wait - hold still. I’ll get this off.”
“No,” Batman roared and Steph flinched. It hadn’t come through her comm. He was there. Batman was right there. “Don’t move it! Leave it there.”
“But -“ It was Kon’s voice, small and unsure. “- it’s crushing them!”
Steph opened her eyes. Above her, Kon was standing, his normally tanned face grey with horror. He was staring down at them with wide eyes. Light haloed him, weak sunlight filtering through the gap they’d made in the wreckage. It had been nighttime, when they’d first entered the warehouse, Steph was sure.
She followed his gaze. Nightwing was lying on top of her, most of his body pressing down on her chest and stomach and hips. His head was rocking with his seizing, his face pressed mostly into her armpit. There was blood and vomit all over his face and her shoulder and side. So much of it that Steph felt bile rise up her throat.
That was nothing compared to the mess at her feet. Not that she could see one of them. One of her legs was splayed out to the side, but the other stretched out beneath her. Dick’s lower half covered most of her leg. She could see his thighs, tensing and contracting with the seizure.
But he ended abruptly at the knees. His lower legs and her foot had completely disappeared beneath a slab of concrete. And by completely, she meant completely. Steph couldn’t see any gap where the slab met the floor of the warehouse. Couldn’t see any space for limbs or feet.
She heaved. Panic shot through her so intensely that she was blind with it. She clawed at the debris around her. Strained to get out from under Dick. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Pressure on her good shoulder. “Try to stay calm, Spoiler,” Batman said, but his voice was shaking too. The whole world felt like it was shaking.
“We need fluids,” Batman said. “If we remove the concrete now, we’ll be risking crush syndrome. Robin, Superboy, we need an I.V., ketamine, and a bleed control kit.”
There was a shuffle of movement. Then Batman was leaning over her, gently touching Dick’s face. “How many times did he vomit, Spoiler?”
Steph made a strangled sound. She - vomit? - she didn’t know - she - did it matter? Did it matter when his legs were fucking gone? When he was still jerking on top of her, his face covered in blood, foamy spit smearing across her uniform.
“I don’t,” she choked. “I don’t know.”
“Try to think, please,” Batman said. “It might be important.” He pressed something on one gauntlet. “He’s been seizing for approximately two minutes and nine seconds. Were there any other seizures or is this his first?”
Steph sobbed. “I don’t know.”
Batman touched her face then, very gently. The leather of his glove was cool and dry against her sweat-slick skin. “I know this is difficult, Spoiler. I know you’re in a lot of pain. But try to concentrate, okay? Focus on me. How many times did he vomit?”
Steph strained to think through the pain and panic. It felt like trying to grasp water, all of her thoughts sliding through her fingers without any traction. The first time had been when she’d thought he was dead, hadn’t it? Then he’d - then he’d puked right onto her shoulder.
“Twice, I think,” she managed, through gritted teeth.
“Good, that’s very good,” Batman praised and, despite everything, Steph felt a jolt of warmth in her chest. “And the seizure?”
“Just once,” she said. She would have noticed if he’d had another one, wouldn’t she? The pain, at least, she’d remember.
“Okay, okay, good,” Batman said. “Thank you, Spoiler. It sounded like you were both in and out of consciousness, is that correct?”
Dick’s head jerked forward and slammed into her shoulder. Steph screamed as the pain flared, her body going rigid in an attempt to get away. Batman lunged across her and gently guided Dick’s head to the side.
“Come on, Nightwing,” he murmured. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Dick made no reply, only continued to jerk. Steph gritted her teeth hard enough to feel the creak of her jaw. Then, abruptly, he went limp.
“Nightwing?” Batman asked. The name wobbled and broke. He tore off one glove, tilted Dick’s head, then pressed his fingers to his pulse. For a moment, everything was painfully silent. Then Batman made an odd grunting sound at the back of his throat.
Dick was still alive, then. Steph felt a pulse of dizzy relief.
“Batman.” It was Tim’s voice. Steph blinked. It felt as though her eyelids were scraping across her corneas. It felt as though she were travelling strangely through time. “The I.V.”
Batman grunted again. He shifted over them to reach one of Dick’s arms, sprawled limply around Steph. With deft movements, he cut away the uniform at Dick’s bicep, before tucking a needle into the crook of his elbow.
Then his hands were on Steph, his grim face drawn in concentration.
“I’m going to hook you up to this I.V, okay?” he said, gently. She shivered as her arm was bared. “The fluids should help prevent crush syndrome and the painkillers should make you more comfortable.”
She barely noticed the needle through the rest of the pain. A hand gently brushed a clump of matted hair from where it was stuck to one cheek. She blinked and two streaks of hot liquid trickled over her temples.
“You’re being so brave,” Batman praised.
Then he was gone. Steph panicked for a moment, before she felt a hand touch her knee. Batman murmured something, but Steph couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in her ears.
“It’s okay, Steph.” Tim’s face appeared above her, so pale that he looked like a ghost, silver tear tracks cutting across his skin. “We’re getting you out. Both of you.”
“I know,” she tried to say, but it came out in a choking sort of gasp.
There was a groan. Dick stirred weakly. He made a sound of pain. Batman hushed him, the noise thin and frantic. One of Tim’s shaking hands reached out to brush Dick’s hair.
Then: movement; pressure; sudden pain so brutal that Steph couldn’t help but scream. Tim gripped her shoulders. His face was a white blur.
“It’s just the tourniquet,” he said, sounding far away. “You’re okay.”
Shouting. The creak and groan of moving debris. Tim’s voice loud and shrill in her ear. A sudden release of pressure so intense that it felt like her foot was being crushed all over again.
The weight on her chest lifted. Panicked, she tried to grab for Dick, to hold him safely against her, but he was gone. He was gone. He was gone.
“Kon has him,” Tim was saying, sounding like he was speaking from deep beneath the ocean. “He’s going to be okay. Kon will get him to the hospital, then he’ll come back for you. He’s okay.”
Steph could barely make sense of the words. Someone caught her clawing hands and held them still. She could hear herself making frantic little animal noises.
Then she was being shifted, her limp body manuevoured onto something flat and only slightly softer than the concrete. Kon’s face joined Tim’s above her. Pain flared across her side and she screamed in agony. Tasted blood in her mouth.
Arms braced around her. Suddenly, she was being lifted into the air. The world spun sickeningly. She was still screaming, but it felt like she was outside of her body. Like she was staring down at herself as she was launched into the sky.
Distantly, she could see Kon’s face, drawn tight in concentration. It swam and blurred. The pain was like a living thing, clawing at her, dragging her under until, eventually, her vision went black and she was finally, blessedly unconscious.