"Damn it," Richard cussed, his hands frantically pressing against his friend's wound. "Come on. Don't die. Stay with me."

They hadn't expected their target to be such a skilled magic user. He should've done his research better. Richard was the leader of the Robins; he was supposed to have it all under control. He wasn't supposed to let these things happen to his people. His friends. His best friend.

The Bat-Prince had sent them to track down a mage in the city. The intel they'd collected suggested this was a low-tier mage at best. They'd been gravely wrong. The others had all just barely escaped unscathed, Richard included, and scattered into the night. He'd been halfway down an alley when he got a sinking feeling in his gut. Something had told him to turn back, and he had, only to find a trail of red and his friend crawling out into the street.

His heart sank to his stomach as he tried to stop the bleeding. This was bad. This was very bad. "Please," he pleaded, fear creeping into the back of his mind, his voice and heart breaking. "I'm not leaving you, you hear me? I'm not going anywhere. I'm taking you to a healer, and you're getting better, and we'll laugh about this. So please."