Shot

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It was a horrible night in Gotham. But really, what else could be expected, it was Gotham. That was what the city was known for. That and it's heroes.

The reason it was an especially horrible night in Gotham was because of one Dick Grayson, also know as the hero Nightwing and the events that would befall him that night. It was one of the few nights where he could be seen working with his mentor, Batman. They'd been working a drug case together. The production and sale of the new drugs had started in Blüdhaven, but had quickly made its way to Gotham. It was going to be the cause of a huge headache if it wasn't nipped in the bud quickly.

The case hadn't gone as expected and everything that could go wrong went gone wrong. There were too many thugs and the intel that Bruce and Dick had been given was completely wrong. It was an absolute disaster.

Bruce was currently applying pressure to a bloodied and wounded Dick. He'd been shot in the back, while Bruce had just been grazed. Dick had accidentally stepped into the line of fire that had been aimed at Bruce.

Luckily the shot that hit Dick missed anything important, but it was still dangerous if not treated. Both had faced worse, but they both knew that it was best to not push their luck. They were tired anyway. After Dick had gotten shot, they both decided that they should call it a night and wait until they had more accurate intel before retrying to dismantle the drug cartel. At this point, staying would do more harm than it would help.

They had beaten all of the thugs in the area, but more would be coming soon. They could deal with whoever showed up until they were extracted by whatever help Bruce had called.

"It's really in there, isn't it," commented Bruce, staring intently at Dick's back. Dick's fists were clenched. His back was bleeding and the bullet hadn't gone all the way through. Bruce was trying to see if he should fish it out then and there or if he should wait until they were somewhere with supplies.

"Don't stick your finger in there!" Dick half-groaned, semi-playfully. A bullet wound shouldn't seem inconsequential, but he'd been in the hero business long enough that that was the truth of the matter.

Bruce chuckled gruffly, "Well, if you had been paying attention, I wouldn't have to."

"I know, I don't need a lecture. Besides if I had been paying attention, you'd be the one having a finger stuck in your back. How're we getting out of here?"

"I asked the League for a bit of help."

"Oh my God! You asked for help! How much trouble are we in," Dick laughed.

"I just don't want to deal with a upset Alfred. It is his birthday tomorrow and he doesn't need any stress. I promised that we'd get home early tonight without any complications."

"Aww, you actually care about someone! Batman has feelings!"

"Shut up."

"Ha, yeah not happening. That's what you get for sticking your finger in my back."
_____
The extraction team had finally arrived. Not a moment too soon either. Bruce and Dick were drenched, curtesy of the downpour that had recently started, and were very tired. Cranky Bats were the worse type of Bats.

Both stood up and made their way over to the ship that would take them to the watch tower. They were just a few feet away when a shot wrung out. A cry escaped Dick's throat and he fell backwards and collapsed into a large puddle that was quickly changing color. One of the men selling the drugs had hidden away behind part of the building's cooling system and had escaped both of the hero's notice.

Bruce, as well as the extraction team, went into action immediately after hearing the shot. The majority of the extraction team went after the loose criminal, leaving Bruce and a few others to care for his son and take him to the safety of the ship.

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