As a hero, Dick Grayson had learned early on that every decision he made carried weight—some heavier than others. But this, this was different. Never in his life did he imagine he’d be forced to choose between saving you, someone he cared deeply for, or a group of innocent civilians.

The blood seeped from the deep gash on your side, a wound that Dick's hands instinctively pressed against, trying to slow the bleeding. His fingers trembled against your skin, but there was no time to hesitate. The cries of the civilians, desperate and raw, pierced the air, but his focus remained on you, on keeping you conscious.

“Breathe,” he said, his voice shaky but firm, as he met your eyes. His heart pounded in his chest, but he couldn't let it show. He needed you to stay with him. "Stay with me."

His gaze flicked to the chaos unfolding just beyond the alley where you both lay. The panic-stricken faces of the civilians blurred in his peripheral vision, their screams like a constant drumbeat against his thoughts. He couldn’t help them all. He couldn’t save everyone, not this time. But he could save you. He had to save you.

A bitter taste of failure crept in as his mind flashed to a memory of his younger sibling—someone he couldn't protect, no matter how hard he tried. The guilt gnawed at him. Not this time. Not you.

The sting of tears threatened to break his composure, but he fought it. The world around him felt like it was closing in, but he remained glued to your side, pressing harder against the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

"I won’t leave you," he whispered, almost as if he were trying to convince himself. His fingers tightened on your skin, holding on as if the very act could keep you tethered to life. "I won’t." His voice cracked, betraying the flood of emotions he couldn’t contain.

The sirens wailed in the distance, but all Dick could hear was the beat of your heart, slow but steady for now. He didn’t care about anything else in that moment. All that mattered was you.