Jericho

Wounds and Care Givers

'What the hell happened to you?'

Dick walked through the precinct door the next morning and was immediately accosted by the chief. The bruise on his side was making his hands shake with every breath, his ride in on his motorcycle hadn't made it any better, and the punch Wally had inflicted on his jaw was swollen.

'I was mugged last night.' Dick said convincingly.

'The hell.' Said the chief, studying the injury to his rookies face. 'Why didn't you come and report it?'

'What was the point? We never catch muggers.' Said Dick. Not that that was true, he very often caught muggers...as Nightwing.

'You still should have called it in, or at least called in sick. You look like shit.'

Dick shrugged, hoping his face didn't reflect the pain. 'I'll be fine.'

'Fine my ass. I can see how you're holding yourself. They didn't just get your face did they.'

Dick was surprised at how observant he man was. He shook his head, confirming the mans theory that he was more injured than he was letting on.

'How many were there?'

'Two.' Said Dick, not entirely lying. 'They managed to sneak up on me.'

'Steal anything?'

'Didn't have anything on me worth stealing.'

The chief nodded slowly, turning this information over in his mind. 'I suppose it would be a waste of breath asking you to go home.'

'I'm fine, Chief.'

'No, you're not Grayson. And I don't want you injuring yourself beyond repair. You're benched until further notice. I'll get Branson to bring you over some files, you can make yourself useful with some cold cases. From your desk.' He added the last part to make doubly sure Dick knew he wasn't to leave the office in uniform.

Dick went and sat down at his desk, trying to ignore how each breath was agony. Branson came and dropped off the files and Dick set to work, looking through each case trying to determine if any of them could be solved with today's new technology. But his mind couldn't concentrate. The longer he stayed sat up the worse the pain became. Maybe he should have listened to Wally and had an X-ray, screw Batman and his judgement.

'Well, you look like crap Rookie.' Hale was standing over him. He was one of the cops Dick knew was bent, he was also one of the ones who insisted on making him do all the grunt work.

'Heard you had a run in with a mugger. Thought you were meant to be some kind of Jackie Chan with all the martial arts.' He joked, referring to Dick's scores on the combat exams.

'Not a lot of good when then sneak up behind you.' Said Dick, reaching around and holding his side, breathing slowly. Maybe it was time to give in and actually take some of the painkillers Wally had given him. He just needed to get some water from the dispenser.

Dick stood and walked around his desk. Suddenly the pain spiked down his side and he doubled over like a jackknife.

'Wo! You ok Rookie?' Asked Hale.

Dick tried to inhale but his lungs felt like they wouldn't inflate. He opened his mouth but nothing would go in or out. He buckled to his knees.

'Grayson? Hey, Monroe gonna need some help over here!' Hale called. Monroe came running over and helped Hale lift Dick to his feet. Meanwhile, other officers had stopped their tasks to see what was happening in the corner. 'We'll take him over to the med-room. Someone go and inform the chief.'