A "Safe" Mission

Cursed Bed

Robin pulled and played with the bandages on his shoulder, glaring at them as if they talked shit about him. When it stung in protest, he hissed and frowned at them. He folded his arms, much to his shoulders dismay, before the door of the medical bay flung open to reveal Wally in his suit.

"How are you doing?" Wally asked.

"Peachy. Can't you tell by the smile on my face?" Robin asked, mocking a face of a pouting dog.

Wally chuckled. "Well at least you are your sarcastic self. That's always a good thing." Wally explained, walking over to Robin's bed side.

"Is It? I had no idea my sarcastic humor of anger and boredom was a good thing." Robin grumbled out.

"Angsty much?" Wally asked, raising his eyebrow as he took the seat next to Robin.

Robin threw himself backwards onto the bed, ignoring the thumping pain in his back and glared up at the ceiling. "I'm just so done being bed-ridden. It's been two weeks, Wally." He held up two fingers in front of Wally's face as if to get his point across more. "Two! You know how much torture that is for an acrobat?!" He paused for an answer, but cut Wally off before he could speak. "A lot!"

Wally chuckled, putting his hand on top of Robin's hand to lower it to his bed side. "Its so you can heal. You are in no shape to go out fighting now. You tried standing up yesterday and dramatically screamed that you felt like Satan was climbing out of your back."

Robin huffed. "That's because he was. You didn't feel the pain." Robin grunted out. "I just want this pain to hurry itself up and heal! I have had broken ribs with sprained knees and still was able to fight the very next day. But this wants me to stay bed-ridden for the rest of my life it feels like."

"Okay, calm down drama queen. Geez. This is so out of character for you to be this dramatic." Wally explained, watching Robin turn his head with a bat glare stuck on his features.

"I'm sorry, should I tone down my pain and live like an old granny with a bad hip and stay in bed with my mouth shut while everyone coddles me and tells me it is going to be alright?" Sarcasm leaked from his lips, making Wally roll his eyes.

Wally started to stand up and put a hand on Robin's uninjured shoulder. "Just get better. I believe in another month you will be in fighting shape." Wally explained.

Robin's eyes bulged out of his sockets. "A month?! You're joking!"

Wally chuckled. "Nope." He walked away from Robin, turning to wave him a goodbye. "I have a mission to go on. Get better and stay off your feet, you snarky bat."

The door closed leaving Dick alone to himself again. He grunted, still staring at the rocky ceiling. He hated staying still for so long. It felt foreign for him to be on a bed for so long without at least moving. He was going to be rusty when he gets back on his feet and that made him angry to think about.

That thought actually was enough to fuel him and he sat up, ignoring the screams in his torso and back, before throwing his blanket off of him. He dangled his feet on the side of the bed, struggling to reach the floor without sliding to the edge of the bed.

Stupid shortness. He thought.

When his feet made contact with the cold floor, he gasped at the cold contact, but tried his best to ignore it. He was flat on his feet and he took a deep breath before pushing himself from the edge of the bed and onto his feet.

He stood there, trying his hardest to ignore the pain in his back. He took a few steps, each one becoming easier as he walked around the medical wing room he was in. He could feel his legs getting used to the walking already, making him happier than he has been in a minute.

"Psh, a month. Yeah right." He said, before trying out soemthing he knew would either prove he was semi okay, or pop all his stitches and he would be bed ridden for another two months. He sucked in a breath, and got into a fighting stance, before starting to train. The first few jabs and dances only irritated his wounds and he counted that as progress.

Deciding to push it, he did a handspring in the heat of the moment. Only it was less than graceful. His shoulder screamed at him, causing his balance to weaken. He fell face first into the cold, metal floor, his feet finding the edge of the bed and he came to a stop. His back was on the floor, his arms above his head while his feet were on the bed. He knocked a table over with his less than functional handspring, making the metal tools fly everywhere.

He laid there for a moment, a look on his face as if he was rethinking his whole life, before the door opened. He moved his head up to see Bruce standing there, a look of... disappointment? on his face.

Dick just chuckled nervously. "Hey, Bruce... how uh... how is everything up there?" He asked, dryly.

"Did you attempt a handspring?" He asked.

"Possibly."

Bruce just sighed, reaching up to throw his cowl off. He walked over to Dick and helped untangle his legs from the bed. Once on his feet, Dick hand his injured shoulder cradled in his other hand.

"You should be resting, not attempting to break yourself even more." Bruce explained.

Dick huffed, leaning against the bed. "I am sick and tired of being in bed."

Bruce watched his son for a moment before folding his arms. "Fine. You can walk around, but have caution. If you hurt to much, rest, but I will allow you to walk around. No doing anything too rough unless someone is with you, clear?"

"Really Bruce?! Holy Batman! This is freakin amazing!" He shouted, jumping up and down, but stopped when his back protested against it. He started to walk out of the room, Bruce following closely behind.

A/N: So obviously you guys voted yay. I will be updating "to mend the broken" and "silenced" today as well, for those who read my other works. It will be a minute before I update anything else though, because I have physical therapy, going back to work, and college homework, so it will be a minute :/