Dick didn't remember much. All he remembered was going on patrol, getting a call, and then nothing. His head was pounding, and he couldn't breathe. The smoke was too thick, and it was pulling him down. Whatever building he was in, it was on fire.
Dick's suit was torn and burned. His muscles screamed, and his throat begged for water. His lung cried out for air. He couldn't move, even though he wanted to. Was this how he died?
Dick's eyes were drifting closed. He couldn't stay awake, not with the pain. The fire was edging closer, and Dick felt too weak to move. There was no hope left for him.
That is, until he heard a voice. A voice so familiar, he wanted to cry. "Dick!" Wally called out, searching for the missing acrobat. Dick couldn't cry out for Wally, couldn't tell him where he was, and he knew that. There was nothing in his lungs besides smoke.
The last thing he saw was a pair of red boots in front of him. He could hear muffled talking, but that faded out. Everything faded out, until there was nothing. He couldn't even feel the pain. It was dark, and silent, and numb.
When he woke up again, he found himself in a hospital, a breathing mask strapped over his face. He had no strength, and barely noticed the IV in his arm. He could feel bandages, wrapped tightly around burns.
He fell asleep again. When he was asleep, he didn't feel the pain. He got to escape the burning patches of skin, and the oxygen hungry lungs that demanded more and more air. He didn't have to deal with any of it.
The next time he woke up, he was surrounded by people. They hugged him, chattering, but there was so much noise Dick couldn't understand them. He felt overwhelmed. Someone seemed to sense this, and sent most of them out.
Now that he could focus again, Dick realized it was Wally and Bruce with him. "You okay now, Dickie?" Wally asked softly. Dick nodded, not having the energy to talk. "You've got a lot of burns. You also have some pretty bad smoke inhalation. Docs want to keep you on the breathing mask, as well as starting a treatment to help get the smoke in your tissues out. It's probably going to be a while before you get out of the hospital." Dick nodded.
That night started his treatment. He had the mask he always had, but now it was attached to a machine that dispensed medicine. He would breath it in, and it would soak into his lungs. It might make him tired, but that meant it was effective.
Dick felt exhausted. He'd been okay before the treatment, but now he felt like he was hit by a truck. Wally held onto his hands tightly, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He fell asleep again, hearing a small "I love you."
The treatment went on for weeks. He had one every two nights, although he often went into coughing fits. The smoke was fighting to get back into his lung tissue, and he often had to have a doctor with him when he was receiving treatment. Nobody was certain of when Dick would get out of the hospital.
Dick spent three weeks in his room, trying not to go into a coughing fit every time he opened his mouth. He still had no idea what happened that day, nor did he have any idea who got him there. His brothers were trying to figure that out, but Dick couldn't help. He felt useless, quite frankly.
A month later, Dick was allowed to return to Wayne Manor. He was instructed to continue the treatment, preferably with someone near him. He was quarantined to his room, not allowed to go outside. It was deemed too dangerous, with the conditions of his lungs.
Only Wally, Alfred, and Bruce were allowed inside Dick's room. His brothers were not happy with the restriction, and went to the yard to communicate with Dick. Dick always sat at the window, doing his best to keep tabs with his brothers. It hurt, not being able to go outside, but he could see why. Even with the breathing mask, something could infiltrate it, and injure his lungs.
Wally was always with Dick, holding him in his lap and pressing kisses to his face. Dick was always happy to be with Wally, feeling just a little better with the speedster around.
Dick sometimes had nightmares of the incident. He didn't know why. Sometimes he would see flashes of the fire. He would see lighter fuel. He would see a match fall on the fuel soaked wood, and he would see a black pair of boots run off. It only confirmed Bruce's theories: Dick had been kidnapped.
Dick was in his room for over a month. The coughing fits were only getting worse, and Bruce didn't want to risk anything. Wally often had to catch Dick, to keep him from collapsing. It was rare Dick was sitting at the window without a breathing mask.
Every month, Dick was checked in by a doctor. He had to do breathalyzer tests, which made him nervous. Without the mask, he was at risk of getting something in his lungs. He just wanted this to be over.
It took five months for the smoke to leave Dick's lungs. Dick felt like his chest was lighter, and he felt like he could actually breathe. He wasn't in danger of collapsing anymore. He felt extremely relieved.
He could go outside again. The breeze felt good in his hair, and the grass was soft against his back. Ace and Titus ran around, playing with each other. Wally had his legs under Dick's head, running his fingers through his hair.
Dick never did figure out what happened. He didn't like to think about it, and no one liked to push him to think about it. They just wanted him to be happy. A happy Dick Grayson was what people wanted.
Wally brought Dick to the apartment as soon as possible. He loved Dick's family, but Dick needed a break from them. He was excited to see Maximus, anyway. It had been five months since he'd been able to see his dog in person.
Maximus had practically pounced on Dick when he walked in, running around excitedly. Dick had sat down and grabbed Maximus, pulling him close. Maximus licked all over Dick's face, covering it in his slobber. Dick didn't care.
Wally spent the next week spoiling Dick. Dick was usually curled up in Wally's lap, getting cuddles and kisses. Wally had come home with flowers once, and Dick's favorite candy the next time he was out. Maybe they'd ended up making love, but who was there to tell?
"You don't have to pamper me that much. I love it, but you're going to run out of money." Dick smiled. "Bruce gave me money before we left to spoil you. I intend to use it on my wonderful husband. You've been through so much the past few months, and I want to see that smile on your face. If it means I take you to everywhere in the world, I'll do it. I love you, Dickie." "I love you too, Wally. You don't have to take me everywhere. But I do want to go somewhere." "Name it." "I want to go to Romania again. Visit home." "Then we'll go to Romania."
