Dick woke with a gasp, sweat trickling down his body. Something was wrapping around his ribs, he couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe…his asthma. Oh no, he must've had an attack while asleep. He was way too far behind, he needed his inhaler immediately.
Dick propped himself up and reached for the nightstand, where his inhaler sat. Just as he got his hands on it, a fit of coughs hit and he dropped it. Wally was shaken awake, knowing something was wrong the second he woke up.
"Dick? Dick, what's wrong?" Wally asked frantically, hand on Dick's shoulder. It was clammy, sweaty, and shaking. "Asthma…dropped inhaler…need it now." Dick gasped out. Wally zipped over to the inhaler and grabbed it before handing it to Dick. This was the third asthma attack since Dick came home, fourth overall, and Wally was getting worried.
Dick gulped down a few breaths of the medicated air, letting Wally hold him up. As soon as he could get some air, he collapsed in Wally's arms, shivering. Wally rubbed his arms, trying to comfort the acrobat. "We need to tell Bruce. He needs to know about this. Besides, you're getting low on medicine, and he can help." Wally said, gently grabbing the inhaler and slipping it in his pocket. Dick nodded, knowing it was too bad to push off.
Wally rested Dick against the wall, smoothing the hair down. "Do you want me to talk to him, or you?" Dick grimaced as he shifted. "You. Don't think…I have the air." Wally nodded and kissed Dick's forehead. Wally hadn't allowed Dick on patrol, thankfully; they'd have had a lot more attacks if he hadn't.
Wally grabbed his phone and dialed Bruce, hoping the man was still awake for patrol. Wally knew it was the ungodly hour of two AM, but Bruce needed to know immediately. "Dick? What's got you up this late?"
"This isn't Dick, but we have a problem. Dick had an asthma attack while asleep. Fourth one he's had in the two weeks since he got back. He nearly passed out. It's getting really bad, and we're almost out of the medicine." "Has he been going on patrol?"
"No. I haven't let him, not with his asthma being this bad. After the first attack, the one in the cave, we agreed to take a few days off. Then he had one when a lady smoked at the bus stop. Another one when a guy had too much cologne on. Then he had his most recent one when he was asleep. He got his inhaler soon enough, but this time was cutting it close.
"We can't keep him here anymore. We're getting too close to the edge without much to pull him back except an inhaler. We don't have any nebulizers, we don't have the medicine if he has another attack, it's just too much." Wally sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
"Bring him over once you're sure he can handle it, or if he's having another attack. It must have been the traveling that aggravated it. Once it was kick started, it must have become sensitive. Alfred and I can examine it more here. Try to keep him away from any sprays and dust. Anything that could potentially cause an attack." "I will. Do you think you can get the med-bay ready? I don't want him to be in danger of another attack." "Yes. Bring him over as soon as you can, and we'll start checking him out."
Wally nodded. "I will. Thank you so much." "He's my son. I would do anything for him. When you come over, make sure to refill his inhaler." "I know. I'll check with him, see if he thinks he's ok. I'll talk with you at the cave." "Take care of him, Wally. Don't let him stop breathing."
Wally ended the call and walked back to Dick, who had his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell steadily, convincing Wally that the inhaler had worked. He slid next to the younger, putting his hand on Dick's shoulder. "Dickie? Can you hear me, angel?" Dick nodded. "Bruce wants to bring you to the cave. Can you hold onto the inhaler while I run, so we don't lose it?" Dick nodded, opening his hand.
Wally set the inhaler in Dick's hands and wrapped Dick's fingers around it. Dick held it to his chest. "We going?" He whispered, eyes cracking to peer at Wally and he stood up. "Yeah. Hang on, breathe deep breaths without hyperventilating." Dick smiled and nodded. He was always tired after an attack, but Wally made it bearable.
Wally set Dick on the gurney in the med-bay and grabbed the inhaler. "Sit against the wall, and I'll refill the inhaler. Bruce should be here any second." Dick winced as he moved, his body sore and heavy. Wally zipped off to refill the inhaler and Bruce came in.
"Are you alright?" Bruce asked as he hurried to Dick's side. "I think so. The tightness around my ribs has gone away for now." Dick grasped Bruce's hand, a weak smile on his face. Bruce sighed and pulled Dick into a hug. "Why didn't you tell me it was so bad? You could've died tonight, Dick, if Wally wasn't there." "I didn't think it was that bad. I knew it was sensitive, but never that sensitive. Not since I was sixteen." Dick whispered back.
Alfred came in a minute before Wally did, hurrying to the young master's side. Dick's breathing was becoming pained again, uncomfort wrapping around his chest. "Dick? You ok?" Wally asked, cradling Dick's head on his hand. "Think another one's coming up. Chest is getting tight again." Dick croaked, leaning his head back and taking in a shaky breath. Already it felt unsatisfactory, and he grimaced at the thought of having to go through that again. "Already?" Bruce asked. "Maybe he didn't get enough medicine when we tried the inhaler?" Wally suggested.
Alfred strapped the oxygen mask onto Dick's face, hoping it would somewhat help. Just until he knew enough to get Dick started on a treatment. Wally stroked Dick's cheek as he gasped, trying to keep the younger calm. Bruce held Dick's hand, giving it gentle squeezes as Dick tried to keep still, tried to keep the pain under control. A sudden squeezing of Dick's chest made him jerk, trying to get rid of the sensation. He was losing his ability to breathe.
"Dick, hey, it's ok. Calm down, it's ok. We're here, we're gonna take care of this." Bruce whispered, placing a hand on Dick's chest to still him. Wally grabbed Dick's other hand, whispering sweet nothings again. He'd been doing that a lot, especially during or after an attack. Tears prickled at Dick's eyes, his gasps and wheezes painful for all to hear.
Alfred attached the nebulizer tube to the mask, letting Dick breathe the medicine in. The wheezing died down a little, but the gasps were as strong as ever. The airways in Dick's body opened to the medicine, letting Dick breathe easily again. Dick went limp, sweaty and cold and out of breath. He felt like he had been running for miles.
"Dickie? Is it over?" Wally asked, brushing the hair out of Dick's face again. "I think. Don't know." Dick sounded weaker than ever, voice raised barely more than a whisper. Alfred raised the bed so Dick could rest against it and sit up easily, about an 85° angle. Wally sat on the edge of the bed and scooted next to Dick.
"I need to find the boys, tell them no sprays or smoking. Jason won't be happy, but he'll have to deal with it." Bruce said as he started walking out. Dick closed his eyes and slumped against Wally, legs curled so his feet were planted on the gurney. Wally wrapped his arm around Dick's shoulder, grabbing Dick's hand.
Jason and Tim were riding into the cave on their cycles, Jason lighting a cigarette. The second Bruce saw it, he grabbed it out of Jason's hands. "What the hell?" Jason raised his eyebrows. "I don't suppose you would want to smoke, possibly sacrificing Dick's health. Not unless you want to kill him too." Bruce snapped.
"Dammit. He had another one, didn't he?" Jason cursed. "He's sleeping right now, but yes. No smoke, no spray, nothing that irritates his asthma." Tim widened his eyes. "Asthma? Since when did he have asthma?!" "He's had it forever, Timbo. But it stopped when he turned sixteen, right?" Jason asked. "The alternate dimensions caused his asthma to make a strong return. He had one while asleep, then one in the med-bay. He's extremely weak, and needs to be kept away from as many irritants as possible." Bruce explained.
Jason glanced over at the med-bay, where he could see Dick resting. Dick looked horrible, pale and limp, with that horrible mask on his face. He hated seeing Dick like that. He hadn't seen his older brother like that in years, but the sight still terrified Jason. It made his strong brother seem weak, fragile, something he wasn't.
The two were sent up to bed, Jason still a little sore about his cigarette. But he understood why Bruce didn't want any smoke. Dick's lungs were most irritated by smoke, if Jason remembered correctly. Even with the mask, there was a chance Dick could have an attack. Bruce wanted to minimize that chance. But how far would he take it?
