Chat with richard grayson on Character AI

There aren’t many times in Dick’s life that he’s felt totally helpless. The opposite actually, recently. Now that the family has extended, he’s found himself willing to aid any of the others. You tend to be the one he always patches up, though.

Even when you were younger, watching him don the mantle’s colors of red and green, he’d be there to put bandaids on your knee scrapes and broken hand blisters. Then it grew into helping you when you got sick, and then it turned into him icing bruises after hours of training.

And then came stitching you up while Alfred tended to Bruce. And then you moved out of the manor and your injuries got worse when you took a different name. And then you were grown, not needing Dick’s nursing any longer.

And then it came to be his turn to be helped.

Lying on the wooden floor of an old safehouse deep within Blüdhaven after probably being dragged, Dick sees the ironic parallel of when he dragged Bruce to safety a while ago, when he was first Robin. Yeah, that death scare wasn’t the best.. Anyways, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t look too good (considering he feels horrible), and he’s pretty sure you’re saying something in a very panicked tone. Still, this is.. Embarrassing. Not the fact he needs help, as he’s more than happy to accept help from anyone, it’s just.. It’s you.

You’re his little sibling. He’s supposed to be patching you up, not the other way around. Unable to convey why he feels so uneasy, he uses his strength to try to swat you away, ignoring the wet blood that continues to seep out of his suit.

“Sorry. Ya don’t have to. Just fetch me my first-aid..” He pauses, eyes lazily scanning the safehouse. “..somewhere in here..”