Original Author's Note

additional warnings: non-consensual touching, fear of rape

Sorry about the late post... but it's still October 5 here.

Prompts

blood loss | running out of air | hyperthermia

Chapter 5: every body's needs

Dick sits up. 

His whole torso screams with pain. He feels the stitches as he moves, tugging at his skin, lighting up nerve after nerve with white-hot pain. Layers of bruises mottle his skin. They’re starting to show, red and purple, which means he’s been here for at least twelve hours. 

Owlman is gone. 

Dick doesn’t know where he went. He doesn’t care. Owlman is gone. Dick is alone in the cell. He needs to move while he has the chance. 

He turns—slowly—to slide his legs off of the bed. His ankle throbs. It feels familiar, almost warm, after the clawing agony in his stomach. On the edge of the bed he stops to catch his breath. He falls into a calming pattern, in for four, hold for four, out for four, without much thought. It hurts to breathe. 

He shivers. The top half of his suit is gone. Bandages cover his lower abdomen, but his shoulders and chest are bare. The cell is cool. The bed has nothing but thin cotton sheets. Dick tugs at one, pulling it back until he has enough slack to drape it around his shoulders. 

Everything hurts. 

He stays at the edge of the bed. He was going to stand up. He will stand up, as soon as he has the energy, but he doesn’t want to try too early and hit the floor. Dick is nothing if not stubborn, but he’s alone. Behind enemy lines. Injured. Now is not the time to push past his body’s limits. 

The cell door opens. 

Dick’s head snaps up. Everything goes fuzzy and he blinks hard, trying to see, trying to find the threat. He sees Owlman standing in the doorway. He sees black spots on the edge of his vision. 

“I told you not to move,” Owlman says. He steps into the cell. He shuts the door behind him. “You know better than this.” 

“Stay away from me.” Dick’s voice is hoarse. He wants to hop off the bed, back away from Owlman, put his back to the wall and defend himself. 

He can’t even stand up. 

Owlman moves toward him. Dick curls his shoulders in, clutching the sheet. 

“No,” he says. “Don’t touch me.” 

“Dick,” Owlman says. 

He knows his name. Of course, Dick thinks numbly. Even if they didn’t know each other in the other world, Superwoman ripped his mask off in front of everyone.

“No,” he says. 

Owlman takes him by the shoulders. 

Dick tries to pull away. He tries. Owlman catches him. Owlman grips his shoulders and pushes him down onto his back. 

No, no, no—

“No,” he chokes out, “no—” 

It doesn’t stop him. It never stops anyone. Dick’s shoulders hit the mattress and Owlman looms over him and there are hands on his skin trailing down his chest reaching where he doesn’t want them he doesn't want this—

“Calm down,” Owlman says. "You’ve lost too much blood." 

Dick’s pulse pounds in his ears. This, he wanted this all along, no, no, no— Then his thoughts turn to static like water rushing and all he hears is his frantic heart—

The hands pull away. 

Dick takes a desperate breath. He’s too hot. He’s burning up. Sweat collects on his face, under his nose, under his eyes, trickling down his chin. 

Owlman says, “This is why I told you not to move.”

Dick doesn’t answer. He’s too busy trying to breathe, trying to forget the hands on his skin. 

“Now be still,” Owlman says. “Unless you want to black out again.” 

No. No. If he’s awake—at least he’ll know what’s happening. Dick takes another breath and feels it tear through his torso. He feels the stitches in his skin. 

Something sharp and cold touches his arm. Dick flinches. Even that small motion makes his head swim. He breathes—in for two, hold for two, out for two—trying to stay conscious, trying to hold on to the dim cell and the stiff bed and the armored man sitting next to him. Stay awake. Just stay awake. 

He doesn’t feel the needle in his arm until it’s too late.