A/N: Happy Pi Day everyone! I hope you treat yourself to some pie today, because I certainly am. Also, it's what Wally would do. Speaking of our favorite speedster, I know I told a few of you that he'd be making an appearance in this chapter. Well, it looks like I lied. Originally, he was going to be in chapter 11 and what you are about to read was going to be chapter 12, but a lot of you were...shall we say, a little upset with me after the ending of the last chapter. So I decided to be kinder, and go ahead and post this now. I also decided that doing it this way flowed a little better narratively. But no fear! Wally will make an appearance next chapter (unless I change my mind again. I reserve that right!)

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed! This fic has surpassed 100 reviews and I can hardly believe it! You are all wonderful and lovely people and I seriously treasure every comment I receive. Also, a special shoutout to both a-really-angry-sorceress and VoicesOffCamera for the absolutely lovely and amazing conversations. You two rock, and this one goes out to you both.

Anyways, here is the next chapter, posted on March 14, which is both Pi Day and the date this fic begins on (and the day the Blackout strikes!) Yay for timeliness! And now on with the fic.

Chapter 11: Cornered

Gotham City
March 15, 01:56 EST
Team Year Four

One hour ago

Holding tight to her grapple line, Batgirl swung toward one of the stone turrets of the building across the street from the hospital and landed lightly in a crouch, scanning the building opposite. Over the past half hour, she'd climbed to the roof of the hospital and observed at least six Owl assassins staking out the building from various angles, and now she was conducting a quiet circuit of the hospital. In addition to the six she'd already spotted, she counted at least six more lurking in the shadows near the hospital's entrances. They were all armed with a combination of guns, knives, and other weapons that seemed to reflect the owner's personal taste.

Twelve bad guys. Batgirl wasn't a huge fan of those odds, but she had the advantage of stealth and surprise. Plus, all of the Owls were spread out; if she was careful, she could take them out, one at a time, and they'd be none the wiser.

Twelve though. Twelve! Even if she managed to sneak up on some of them, there were still enough that she might not be able to get them all before they went in for the kill. She also didn't like that they had clearly managed to regroup; it was likely that the Owls outside the hospital now weren't any of the same who had attacked earlier that evening. Artemis and Dick had barely managed to fight off five of them when they were healthy and alert; even though Batgirl was there to help now, Artemis was clearly exhausted from the earlier fight and lack of sleep, even if she would never admit it, and not to mention that Dick was currently passed out from a combination of his injuries, exhaustion, and pain killers. There was nowhere to retreat to if shit really hit the fan. Even if they defeated all the Owls outside the hospital now, more would come. They were sitting ducks until they could get Dick out of there.

So, the odds weren't in their favor. Actually, the odds were pretty terrible, to be honest. But there was no way Batgirl was going to let anything happen to another member of her team without one hell of a fight.

Batgirl leaped from the building to land silently on the ground, her cape pooling around her in the darkness. Moving from shadow to shadow with all the skill of a bat, she snuck up behind one of the would-be attackers and made short work of silently incapacitating him. One down, she thought as she dragged his unconscious body into the shadows, shielding him from view.

Only eleven more to go.

Gotham City
March 15, 02:56 EST
Team Year Four

Ten minutes ago

"Good, you're awake!" Dick turned away from Artemis to see a petite African American woman wearing dark blue scrubs walking toward him as she consulted a clipboard. "We were going to have to wake you up in a few minutes anyway, considering your concussion," she continued.

"Umm, right," said Dick. Was that the same nurse that was here before? He couldn't remember. He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to place her. He normally didn't have this much trouble with faces.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking up from the chart. "My name is Linda Hunt, the registered nurse on duty. I'm on shift until seven this morning, so I'll be coordinating your care until then. How are you feeling, Mr. Grayson?" she asked.

"Call me Dick," he said. "All my friends call me Dick."

"Alright then, how are you feeling, Dick?" she smiled, checking his various monitors against his chart.

"Pretty good, all things considered," he said, smiling back at her. "Linda Hunt…I'm gonna guess you're tired of people telling you that you have the same name as the actress?"

"People do like to point it out to me," she remarked lightly.

"Yeah, but you're a lot prettier than she is," said Dick. He turned in surprise as Artemis snorted loudly from where she was standing near the threshold. Did he say that part out loud? Oops.

"Well, I'm certainly taller," replied Linda, chuckling.

"I'm sorry," said Dick, embarrassed. "I don't normally do that—actually, I've been saying a lot of stuff I normally wouldn't tonight," he muttered.

"That's a very normal reaction to the medication you're on," said Linda, once again consulting his chart. "Though if you're not in any immediate pain, we might consider lowering the dosage." She made a note, then hooked his chart at the foot of his bed and reached into her breast pocket for a small pen light. "Let's check your eyes again," she said, shining the flashlight into Dick's pupils.

"So," began Dick as he followed her finger back and forth with his eyes. "Do you know what's going on with the power and everything?" Amid all the distraction of being chased down by the Owls, his hospitalization, and discovering that Artemis had unmasked him, he'd lost track of the original situation that got them into this mess. Neither Artemis or Barbara had mentioned much about the Blackout since he'd woken up, but despite the fact that he was sitting in what appeared to be a fully-powered hospital, he had the distinct feeling it wasn't over yet. For one, he'd noticed that none of the police officers he'd encountered tonight were using either their phones or radios. Second of all, if the Blackout was actually over and the phones were working, Bruce would have been here. His absence was answer enough for Dick to know the Blackout was far from over.

"Not a clue," replied Linda. "We're just lucky Gotham General has backup power. Though I can tell you I'm not looking forward to my commute in the morning. Don't know how I'm going to get home if the train's not running."

"Maybe…don't," said Dick cautiously. "People in this city sometimes...they can get dangerous, especially when they're scared. Like now."

Linda raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't worry about me," she said, amused. "I'm Gotham born and raised. It takes a lot to scare me. Now let's take a look at those sutures." Linda reached for the privacy curtain, and Dick caught a glimpse of Artemis stepping through the open door to the hallway as Linda drew it closed around them.

Their conversation lapsed as Linda focused on removing the bandages over the stitches in his side. In the lull, Dick could hear voices drifting in from the hallway—it sounded like Artemis…and one of the detectives? And they were getting heated. That couldn't be good. Dick sighed inwardly. This entire situation was spiraling way too fast for his liking, and he didn't like that Artemis was getting dragged down into it too.

The voices outside calmed somewhat, and he shifted his attention back to Linda, who, satisfied that his stitches were holding, was replacing the bandages over his wounded side. He had chosen to ignore how bad his injuries were before, but now it was beginning to sink in. While he'd had worse before, he'd never really had it this bad at a more inconvenient time. All other injuries aside, the broken arm alone meant he'd be out of commission for at least a few weeks. And who knew what was going on in the rest of Gotham. Where was Batman? Did he need his help right now? Dick was used to finding the answer to anything with just a few keystrokes to his wrist computer or a quick call on the comm. It was unbearably frustrating being stuck in a hospital and not knowing anything.

A small noise caught his attention. For a moment, Dick thought it was part of the sounds of Linda moving around, but as he listened more closely, he could tell it definitely wasn't. And it was coming from the wrong direction to be the people in the hallway either.

"Alright, you're all set for now Dick," said Linda, drawing the blanket back up over his torso. "The call button's just over here, and don't hesitate to call me if you need anything—"

"Shhh!" said Dick suddenly, grabbing Linda's wrist with his uninjured right arm and preventing her from drawing the privacy curtain back again.

"What—" started Linda, but before she could finish she was cut off by the sudden crash of breaking glass. Dick responded without thinking; Linda was standing on the side of the hospital bed opposite the window and closest to the door to the hallway, and before either of them could even blink he had rolled out of the bed and pulled her to the floor. She shrieked, whether in fear or surprise Dick wasn't sure. He heard shouts from the doorway—must have been the officers that had been stationed outside his door—and then the sickening sound of a blade sinking into flesh. Then the blast of a gun firing—twice—before a second blade found its mark.

"Go!" Dick mouthed to Linda, pushing her toward the door, but she shook her head fiercely. Then there were more people in the room—he heard Hernandez and Buckley's shouts, and then a familiar battle cry—Artemis—and below all of that, so quiet it was nearly indistinguishable, the soft shing of two throwing knives flying towards their target.

Gotham City
March 15, 03:06 EST
Team Year Four

Now

Artemis heard the soft thunk of the knives sinking into something, and for the briefest of moments, time stops.

One police officer spread-eagled on the floor, a knife sunk hilt-deep into his chest, blood pooling around him. Another officer, crumpled near the threshold, one arm limp and useless at her side, the other weakly clutching the hilt of a knife sunk into the opposite shoulder.

Hernandez and Buckley, guns drawn, trench coats billowing behind them.

Batgirl, crouched a few feet from the window, glass glittering in the air as it falls from her cape, arm cocked backward and ready to throw a batarang, a red snarl on her face.

A female Owl, balanced on the sill, arm arcing downward from throwing two knives, head cocked to the side, listening for their impact.

A privacy curtain with two holes pierced in it, billowing gently in the slight breeze from the jagged window.

And then, just as quickly as it had frozen, everything came rushing back into place. Artemis surged forward, fists flying, and tackled the Owl in the window, wrestling her to the floor. They grappled for a few moments over a second pair of knives the Owl had drawn from her belt, but Artemis bent her wrist backward, forcing the Owl to drop them. Artemis kicked them away and they skidded across the linoleum, but the Owl used the distraction to knee Artemis in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. For a moment Artemis lost her grip on the Owl, but before she could reach for another knife, a batarang impaled itself in her forearm. The Owl hissed and Artemis lunged at her, pinning her to the floor. Artemis could hear shouting from behind her, but it sounded distant, as though it was coming from a very great distance, or through water.

The air stirred and Artemis looked up, only to see another two Owls at the window, both of them male. In that same instant, a gunshot blasted and hit the first one in the chest, knocking him backward into the darkness. Another shot rang out but missed the second Owl as he pounced toward Artemis, sending a fistful of knives flying over her head from one hand while he thrust downward with a dagger in the other. But before he could stab Artemis, a batarang lodged itself in his hand, the dagger clattering uselessly to the floor.

Thankful that Batgirl was covering her, Artemis punched the Owl she had pinned on the ground with as much force as she could muster, knocking her senseless, and in one fluid motion rolled to her feet and charged the second Owl. They exchanged a series of rapid blows, ducking each other with ease. One of the Owl's hands was injured from the batarang, which was an advantage for Artemis, but he was also armed, and she was not. Her awareness of the rest of the room receded into the background—she didn't pause to wonder where everyone else was or what they were doing—she was intently focused on the fight in front of her. All of her anger and frustration from earlier in the evening was at its boiling point and she was expressing it with every blow she dealt to the Owl in front of her. She didn't know where Dick was, if he was okay or not, and she couldn't think about it right now—only this fight, this enemy, because if she focused on the fact that Dick might be lying just a few feet behind her, those deadly knives sunk into his chest, she didn't know what she might do.

Gotham City
March 15, 03:06 EST
Team Year Four

Now

Buckley started when he heard the shriek and the sound of shattering glass, then immediately pulled out his sidearm and ran down the hall to the door of Grayson's room. He wasn't sure exactly what he would find when he got inside, but it wasn't this.

Buckley had read the case files on the Court of Owls. He'd read about the strange, ritualistic-like uniforms, their deadliness with weapons of any design, and most of all their cult-like devotion and obsessive determination to complete any task they set their organization toward. So when he saw the Owl assassin perched on the sill of the window, arm arcing downward, almost lazily, in the wake of two projectiles, face obscured by one of the strange, owl-like masks they favored and body wreathed in a cloak and multiple layers of intricate armor, he wasn't as surprised as he might have been. But what he did not expect to see was Artemis Crock, eighteen-year-old civilian and current prime suspect in the Grayson case, charge the Owl and tackle her to the floor before he could even get his safety off. Beside him, Hernandez was shouting at the girl to get clear while trying to find an opening to take a shot at the Owl, but she wasn't listening; rather, she was wrestling the attacker to the ground with a level of skill that Buckley doubted either he or Hernandez could have brought to the situation.

Buckley had always had a knack for seeing the details. It's part of what made him a good detective. While part of his brain processed this new information about Artemis Crock, he took cover behind the open door and took in the rest of the room. Hernandez had taken cover behind the door to the bathroom and was trying to find a clear shot, but couldn't fire without risking hitting the Crock girl. On the other side of the room, the Batgirl was struggling to her feet; Buckley had read the reports on all of the bat-people in Gotham, but hadn't ever actually encountered any of them before, except for one memorable night when he'd caught a glimpse of the Batman himself disappearing into the shadows just as Buckley arrived at a crime scene. This one looked like she'd seen better days; she'd clearly come from the losing end of a fight with the Owls, and appeared to have been thrown through the window. But she wasn't out of the fight yet; if the look on her face said anything, she was pissed, and just as the Owl on the floor kneed Crock violently in the solar plexus, Batgirl threw the weapon she had in her hand, imbedding it into the Owl's arm before the assassin could reach for a new weapon.

Batgirl darted over to the bed, another weapon already in her hand. She thrust aside part of the privacy curtain, revealing both Grayson and a nurse huddled near the foot of the bed, apparently unhurt, the two knives the assassin had thrown earlier impaled harmlessly in the empty mattress.

"Are you hurt?" she asked the kid, not taking her eyes off the threat.

"No," he said. "Are you?"

Batgirl briefly flicked her eyes to the kid in a look that Buckley couldn't read. "You both need to get out of here," she said, ignoring his question.

But before any of them could move, two more Owls burst through the window, clutching an assortment of knives in their hands. With a clear target in front of her, Hernandez took the shot, knocking one of them back out of the window. In the same instant, the second Owl leaped down from the window ledge toward Crock, simultaneously avoiding Hernandez's second shot and sending three more throwing knives flying toward Grayson, who was visible now that the curtain was drawn back.

The kid moved so fast Buckley wasn't even sure if he'd seen it—if he'd blinked he surely would have missed it. In one quick motion, Grayson grabbed the medical chart from where it was hanging at the foot of the bed and ducked down behind it, the three thin knives thunking into it in quick succession. The nurse screamed again at the sound of their impact, and cautiously, Grayson peeked out from behind the clipboard. "Whoa," he breathed, catching sight of the still-quivering knives, half-imbedded in the particle board.

"Hernandez!" Buckley shouted, shaking off his shock. "Get the civilians out of the room, I'll cover you!"

"What about Artemis?" she called, still keeping a close eye on the blonde girl, who was now trading a series or rapid blows with the second Owl.

"I'll take care of her, just get Grayson and the nurse out!" he called, inching forward.

Buckley was growing surer with each passing second that this case wasn't adding up the way it should—but now wasn't the moment to get hung up on the details. Protect, subdue, and get Grayson somewhere secure. Then he could figure out what the hell was going on here. Whatever this mess was, he was determined to get to the bottom of it—provided he, and everyone else in this room, didn't get killed first.

Batgirl hurled the batarang at the Owl, knocking the dagger he had been about to plunge into Artemis from his grasp, and whipped around to see Dick ducked behind a clipboard, the three knives still quivering in the particle board. Wide-eyed, they locked gazes for a half second, Batgirl's heart in her throat. That was close, far too close. They were in way over their heads.

"Linda," Dick said to the nurse, still holding the clipboard in front of him like a shield, "run for the door, and I'll follow behind you."

"Over my dead body am I leaving an injured patient behind in this room," the nurse responded fiercely. "I will help you get to the door."

"Okay, we leave together," he amended under his breath, though he seemed impressed by the nurse's resolve.

Detective Hernandez ducked and ran towards them from across the room, crouching near Batgirl in front of Dick and the nurse. "Can you walk?" she asked Dick.

"Umm," he responded.

"No!" said the nurse, answering for him. "Your whole left side is a giant contusion, and you've got three cracked ribs and a gunshot wound!"

"Both of you, help him out of here," said Batgirl. "I'll help cover you." Nodding, Linda pulled Dick's right arm over her shoulders and got ready to stand up. Hernandez looked for a moment like she might argue, but just then, yet another pair of Owls appeared over the window ledge, a male and a female this time, armed to the teeth. "Go now!" Batgirl yelled, darting in front of the group. "Go!"

In the next instant, Batgirl took the room into account. In her peripheral vision, she could see Hernandez wrap an arm around Dick's other side and help him begin to stumble out of the room, but they were moving far too slowly. Dick had sustained serious injuries to his core, and as a result he could barely hold himself up right now. Artemis was still fighting her own Owl near the window, unable to help them fight off the newer two. Beside Batgirl, Detective Buckley fired a couple rounds at the two approaching Owls—he managed to down one of them, but was forced to duck behind a chair as the remaining Owl retaliated with her own weapons. As the Owl's knives sailed toward them, Batgirl flipped through the air and deflected the knives that were heading toward Dick, the blades glancing off the shock plates in her gauntlets, then landed in a crouch and threw the a handful of batarangs at the Owl in one swift motion. If she hadn't had to worry about Buckley and Artemis, she would have used one of her concussive batarangs and retreated, but as it was she had to rely on the regular kind.

Batgirl scattered a handful of smoke pellets behind her to mask Hernandez, Dick, and the nurse as they reached the threshold, then ducked into a backwards roll as the Owl aimed a new set of knives at her, the weapons thunking into the linoleum where she's been crouched a moment earlier. Batgirl cursed silently—her batarangs didn't seem to faze the Owl very much at all. Since all of her long-distance weapons were proving ineffective, her remaining options were either to move in for hand-to-hand combat or retreat.

But while Batgirl had been dodging the newest Owl, Artemis had nearly finished battling hers. Before Batgirl could decide whether or not to move in, Artemis delivered a series of quick blows to her own Owl, disarming him, and then hit him upside the jaw with the pommel of his own dagger so hard that Batgirl could hear his teeth crack from her side of the room. In the same motion, Artemis was on to the sole remaining Owl. Batgirl allowed herself the tiniest of smiles. Retired? Yeah, right.

Batgirl darted over to Detective Buckley, who was still crouched behind an upturned chair, gun trained on the Owl. "I counted twelve Owls outside before this all started," she said to him hurriedly. "I took out four of them before they caught on to me. Counting this one, we've seen five more of them here."

"That leaves three," grunted Buckley.

"That we know of," said Batgirl. "And they won't stop at this room—"

"Get out of here and help cover Grayson," interrupted Buckley. "I'll stay here and make sure this one gets taken out."

Batgirl nodded. She didn't like leaving anyone behind, but she didn't believe that this Owl would get past Detective Buckley and Artemis combined. She spared a quick glace toward Artemis, then ran for the door.

Dick grunted as they hauled him away from the room, then collapsed in a heap around the corner at the other end of the hall.

"This isn't working," said Hernandez, catching her breath and peering around the corner to see if they were being pursued. "We're not going to get far like this."

"Hang on," said Linda. The nurse ran into a room a few doors down the hall, and after a few moments emerged with a wheelchair. "We can use this," she said, pushing it over to where Dick was. "Help me get him into it."

To be honest, Dick wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea, but at the same time understood that they had very few options. He hated how helpless he felt right now—he hadn't quite realized until he tried to stand up just how battered his body really was right now.

He bit back a groan as Hernandez and Linda helped him off the floor and into the wheelchair, the movement pulling at the wound in his side. How many more Owls were out there? He still clutched the clipboard with the three knives protruding from it in his good hand, and he fully intended on using them if he had the opportunity. His first mistake in this long hellhole of a day had been not fighting as hard as he should have, but things were different now. Now it wasn't just Artemis who was in danger, Artemis who was perfectly capable of defending herself. Now it was police officers who were ill-prepared to fight expertly trained assassins, now it was Linda, a nurse who was sticking with him despite having every reason to run for the hills, now it was every patient and doctor in this whole hospital. Identities be damned—it wasn't a mistake he was going to make again tonight.

"Someone's coming," whispered Hernandez, looking up suddenly. She held a finger to her lips and, gun at the ready, peered around the corner. But she quickly relaxed, dodging around the corner to whoever was on the other side. After a moment she reappeared with Batgirl, the officer who had been stabbed in the shoulder supported between them.

"Nurse's station is this way," said Linda, taking in the officer's injury. "We can get help for her there."

"What about Officer Green?" asked Hernandez, referring to the other officer who'd been posted outside the door. "You need to go back for him."

"He didn't…" said Batgirl, wiping a trickle of blood from her lip as she caught her breath. "He didn't make it. He's gone," she said, meeting Hernandez's eye. The detective looked away, clenching her jaw in grief and anger.

It felt as though one of the Owl's knives had found its mark. Dick felt cold, cold spreading out from his heart and through his body. There was a man lying dead back there, all because of him. Because he had been sloppy and had gotten hurt and gotten his civilian identity mixed up in this. If he had just taken out the Talon when he'd had the chance—ended the fight in the alleyway without getting injured—he could have walked away from it and come back to solve the problem as Nightwing. Now he was stuck as Dick Grayson, stuck in this broken body, stuck with no way to protect any of these people. Sitting here endangering everyone with just his presence. All the Owls wanted was Richard Grayson—they didn't care about any of these other people.

"Get moving, head for the nurse's station!" said Hernandez to the group.

"No," said Dick forcefully. "They're after me, not any of you. I'll go back."

"I'm afraid that's not up to you," said Hernandez, pulling up the injured officer and heading down the hallway. "No one else is dying tonight under my watch."

Linda pushed Dick in the wheelchair, running after Hernandez, Batgirl bringing up the rear.

"Stop it," protested Dick, reaching to the side with his good arm to grab the handhold on the wheel. The chair swerved to the side as one wheel turned more slowly than the other, Linda stumbling behind it as it came to a halt.

Batgirl was there in an instant, fire flashing in her eyes as she forcibly removed his hand from the wheel. "So help me Grayson, I will handcuff you if you don't cooperate."

"Batgirl…" he growled.

"You are not a hero right now," she hissed under her breath, leaning in so only he could hear the words. "So stop trying to be one, for one goddamned second."

"What about Artemis and the other detective?" he countered, matching her glare with his own. "We can't just leave them behind!"

"You're the target right now Grayson, that makes you the priority. The Owls are going to be following you, which means we need to focus on your safety." Her face softened by a fraction as she looked at Dick's face. "I know what you're thinking," she said softly, "and you're wrong."

For a few elongated moments they locked gazes, neither giving in. Then Dick relaxed his arm, tugging it back toward him once she released her grip.

"Let's move!" Batgirl said, ignoring the glare he still sent toward her. She didn't seem to understand; not acting like a hero was what had gotten him into this situation to begin with. So far, all that had achieved was getting an officer killed.

And then they were moving again, rushing down the corridor after Hernandez and the injured officer.

What he wouldn't give to be able to talk to Babs right now, not Batgirl. He was so tired of these masks. And not just the physical ones they wore when they went out on patrol. He was tired of leading this double life, a double life that today was growing exponentially more complicated by the hour. But it was pointless to think about right now. It was what it was.

He could understand where Batgirl was coming from, really, if he took half a second and put himself in her shoes. He would have said the same thing if any other member of the Team were in his position right now. And it was standard mission operating procedure to secure the target. The more he put up a fuss, the more danger he was putting everyone else in this little group in. The rational, calculating part of his brain acknowledged this. The emotional side was still catching up.

The sound of gunshots echoed down the corridor behind them. "That sounds like Buckley," Hernandez panted, pausing to check around another corner. Seeing nothing, she walked into the open, Linda following behind her with Dick.

A moment after Hernandez rounded the corner, the Owl stepped out from behind where he'd been hiding, clearly lying in wait for them. Hernandez's eyes widened and she stumbled back, struggling to raise her gun in her free hand, her agility compromised by the injured officer leaning on her as the Owl leapt forward, a sword cutting down toward the detective.

Dick saw it all in a fraction of a second; Hernandez would be too slow to get her gun up. Batgirl was rounding the corner at this moment, looking over her shoulder covering their rear, and she wouldn't be able to move quickly enough to help Hernandez. The sword was already arcing down.

Dick reacted, plucking one of the knives out of the clipboard he still held on his lap and throwing it with perfect accuracy. It sliced into the Owl's shoulder, his arm immediately going limp and the sword clattering to the floor. Behind Dick, Linda gasped and dug her heels in, grinding them to a halt, just as Batgirl caught up to them. The Owl hissed in pain and lashed out with his other arm, but with the extra moment Dick had provided, Hernandez was able to defend herself. She released the injured officer and violently kicked the Owl's feet out from under him, jammed her knee into his spine and twisted his uninjured arm ruthlessly up behind his back as the injured officer stumbled back into the wall and slid down it, her face drawn.

Batgirl swore as Hernandez cuffed and disarmed the Owl and Linda rushed to the side of the injured officer. Batgirl's wide eyes traced the path from the knife in the Owl's shoulder to the clipboard in Dick's lap, now short one weapon.

"What did I just say," she hissed, but Dick could tell the venom in her voice was mostly from the shock of being taken by surprise by the Owl rather than anger at him.

Dick was breathing hard from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His arm was still raised in front of him from throwing the knife, and he shakily lowered it back onto the armrest of the chair. He felt a little dizzy.

"Shit," said Batgirl suddenly from beside him. "You're bleeding!" She grabbed his arm, which Dick saw was indeed steadily bleeding.

"It's nothing," he said absently, trying to brush her off.

"You ripped out your IV before," she said. "You're bleeding all over the place!"

"It's not that much," he said critically, eyeing the wound. It really wasn't. He'd bled lots more than that on patrol before. So why was he dizzy? Dick shook his head. Probably the lingering effects of the pain killers he was on. He'd already been reacting strangely to them and no doubt they hadn't fully worn off yet. He hadn't even felt it when the IV ripped out.

"How many of these damn Owls are there?" said Hernandez from where she'd finished restraining their attacker.

"There are at least two left," said Batgirl. "Maybe more."

"We need to move now," said Hernandez, but was cut off by the sound of distant screams and the rattle of more bullets, this time from a semi-automatic weapon. And it was terrifyingly close.

"That's not your partner!" said Batgirl. "And we're not going to get far with two people injured!"

Hernandez clenched her jaw and nodded, coming to a decision. "Change of plans, then. We take cover. You," she said, turning to Linda. "What's a place nearby we can defend? No windows, heavy doors."

Linda blinked for a moment, thinking. "That way," she said, pointing around the corner.

"Move!" said Batgirl, ushering the rest of them on. They rounded the corner without incident and Linda gestured toward the door labeled "Radiology." Inside it was empty—any staff that usually worked there wasn't there at this time of night. They found themselves in a sort of anteroom; the door behind them had a small window in it looking back into the hallway, and another door in front of them led to radiology proper, white and thick with shielding to protect from radiation.

Hernandez locked the first door and flattened herself against it, eyeing the corridor through the small window. "Take her," she said, passing the officer to Batgirl. "I'll cover the door." Batgirl nodded and supported the officer, following Dick and Linda through the second door.

Inside, Batgirl sat the officer down against the wall and pulled some bandages out of her belt and gave them to Linda, who began patching the woman up. Their situation was not good—radiology didn't have most of the medical supplies they needed, and it seemed they were stuck here for the time being. Either they would have to wait here for rescue, or make their last stand in this room.

Dick swallowed and took a few light shaky breaths. He felt out of breath, even though he hadn't been the one running. Probably—probably the adrenaline still, he thought. He blinked rapidly a few times, trying to breathe. He looked at the wound in his arm. It didn't look that bad. Not that bad at all.

Batgirl stood and hurried back to Dick. Nobody had paused to turn the lights on when they came in, and her face was in shadow. "Grayson," she said in her Batgirl-voice. "Stay here with the nurse. And don't try anything reckless."

He blinked. "Uh-huh," he said. His hand shook again, and he took another few shallow breaths. Batgirl's eyes snapped to his, assessing.

"Grayson?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. Her eyes moved to his wounded arm, but caught on his side instead. "Oh god," she breathed, kneeling next to him and pulling the gown he was wearing away from his side. Dick blinked again. There was blood on it. How did that get there?

"Fuck!" said Batgirl, immediately fishing more gauze out of her belt and pressing it to his side. "Why the hell didn't you say anything?" she demanded.

"Wha?" he said, confused. "Say what?"

"That you're bleeding everywhere!" she said. "Nurse!" she called. "Grayson needs help!"

"I didn' know. I swear, Bab-Batgirl," he stuttered. Shit. He shook his head, confused, as Linda rushed over.

Linda's eyes raced over his wound, assessing. "He must've pulled out his stitches," she said grimly. "Probably when he sprung out of bed before. Help me get him flat."

"Hey," he slurred. "That wuzza good thing. I avoided the…knives," he grunted as the two women hoisted him out of the wheelchair and Linda began applying pressure to his wound. "Ow! It…didn't hurt this much before," he gasped.

"That's because you were high as a kite before," answered Linda calmly. "I'd wager you didn't notice this because your pain killers hadn't worn off enough yet. Now they have."

"Wonderful," he ground out, clenching his teeth. He caught a glimpse of the injured officer out of the corner of his eye, propped upright against the wall, her face pale from blood loss. "Wait," he said. "What about…her? She needs help more."

"No, she doesn't," replied Linda, swiftly removing his old dressings, now soaked through with blood. "I've got her all patched up and she's stopped bleeding. She's going to be fine."

"But—" started Dick.

"But nothing," answered Linda. "I am the medical professional here, not you. Don't try to explain my business to me."

Dick blinked. "Sorry," he slurred, and Linda turned her attention back to his wound.

From outside, gunfire popped. Batgirl looked up sharply from where she was crouched at his side. "I need to go," she said. She met Dick's eyes for a moment.

Dick knew Babs. They knew each other a lot better than they even liked to admit to each other sometimes. On patrol in Gotham, they often held silent conversations—it was like when he and Batman talked without words, but it was something more than that too. Even out of the mask and cowl, they could read each other with the briefest of looks. Dick wasn't sure what she saw in him when she met his eyes in that moment, but when he met hers he saw a lot. More than anything, he could see she was angry, determined, and ready to kick some serious ass. But he could also see her anxiety, her concern, her reluctance to leave him bleeding on the floor, and under all of that…was it fear? Dick blinked. No. He was weak with blood loss and confused. Babs afraid? Never. Not possible.

He, on the other hand, was a little scared, and he doubted she didn't see it in his face. He was seriously screwed. He was hurt, trapped, and their enemy was relentless. He couldn't fight his way out of this one. There was no Batman coming to save him this time. He didn't doubt for a second that Babs would be fine—but he wasn't sure she'd be able to get him out of this. "Just…make sure Artemis and the other detective are okay," he whispered.

Her eyes flashed, and Dick knew she knew what he was thinking. He swallowed, and slid his hand across the linoleum, his fingers bumping into her hand where it rested on the floor. She glanced down at it, then back at him. So briefly he thought he might have imagined it, she squeezed his fingertips in her own. "They're going to be fine," she said firmly, "and so are you." Then she stood.

"Stay with him," she said to Linda, who nodded without looking, still focused on his injury, and then disappeared through the door.

Dick blinked. She hadn't looked like she was lying. If only he felt as certain as she did.

A/N: Whoop, Dick's not dead! Did you really think I would do that to y'all? ;) But I did leave him bleeding on the floor, so…don't hate me?

Okay, a few notes:

RE: The fight scene. A couple chapters ago I mentioned I had diagrammed a fight scene from this fic...well, it was this fight scene. Yes, I am ridiculous. If you would like to see said diagram, it's posted on my tumblr, batastrophe7.

Fun fact, I've been using the last names (but not first names) of old teachers of mine for almost all the OCs in this fic. The big exceptions are Hernandez and Buckley, who are a bit more important than other minor OCs. I had decided to name the nurse Linda months ago, and ended up picking the name Hunt after one of my old teachers, not realizing at first that it was a celebrity name. By the time I realized, I didn't want to change it to something else, so I ran with it!

RE: Dick and the painkillers, part 2—to reiterate, some side effects of opioid painkillers include (but are not limited to) sleepiness, strange or vivid dreams, confusion, and influencing mood and behavior, all of which play into Dick's behavior in this chapter and chapter 10. But on the other hand, Dick is a highly trained and skilled guy—they may affect him, but he's still sharp as a tack and has amazing reflexes. Even while medicated, I think Dick would have better reflexes than the average person. He's undergoing an odd mixture of being injured, influenced by his medication, and also having bat-training in this chapter.

Symptoms of blood loss include (but are not limited to) shallow breathing, dizziness, lightheadedness, profuse sweating, and confusion.

I'm just putting Dick through the wringer :(

Lastly, a note about the Court of Owls: when I first started writing this fic, I'd never actually read any comics with the Court of Owls (in fact, I'd read very few comics at all). I just kinda used them because I needed a Batman villain that was more of an organization that might try to kill someone and wasn't the League of Shadows/Assassins. Since then, I went and read the Court of Owls arc in the comics, and I've realized I was pretty off in my portrayal of them in the first chapter they appear in. I tried to bring them back around to how they're usually portrayed a bit in this chapter—more knives, fewer guns—but I also don't want to straight-up retcon my own work. I'm saying that the Owls will use any weapon they feel like, so guns are still on the table. I'm also not really using the idea that all Talons are resurrected people…mainly because I think that's a little silly, even for a Batman story. I envision these assassins to be people the Court kidnapped/recruited that are highly trained killers, but only the elite of them are considered Talons…yeah. Something along those lines.

The next chapter isn't finished yet, (sobs) so no guarantees about when it will be posted. I will aim for two weeks, but I'll be traveling next week so I make no promises.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review!