[ wound ] sender cleans receivers wounds with gentle and shaky hands. (for damian!)
It was strange how the two of them reacted differently to him getting shot. He'd scarcely reacted when the bullet tore through his shoulder, and long accepted it as a normal part of wearing the Robin mantle as well as bearing the names Al Ghul and Wayne. Perhaps it served as a testament to his original upbringing within the league, a place where only the strong survived, but the same could easily be said for Gotham. He'd never known a normal life, he likely never would, and he thought it fine because he knew no better. Nightwing, on the other hand, had become frantic; his usual impish façade during fights had faded away, and there was no stopping him once he fell prey to his feelings. Robin reprimanded him on the spot, explaining calmly that it could've been worse. That didn't seem to help matters.
Various parts of his uniform were scattered about one of their many safe houses, stained with blood that he had tracked around the area. Fortunately, the bullet went straight through, having to get them removed was a pain. It hurt, yet he voiced no complaint, what good would that do? Richard would only react further to his distress, which in retrospect he supposed was the normal thing to do when witnessing your younger brother getting shot. But that only reiterated the fact there was nothing normal about their lives.
He sat silently, chugging down a bottle of water with some heavy painkillers that Richard shoved into his hand with absolute instructions to take them, like he was going to refuse, only an idiot would do that. A wince erupted from his mouth, spilling water down his chin. The hands at his back were unsteady, and accidentally prodding at the exit wound every so often whilst trying to clean it. How fortunate the bullet missed any vital arteries or bones, making it a simpler procedure that he knew the elder more than capable of handling. So, why on earth was he fumbling this so badly?
With a sigh, Damian set his water bottle down and cleared his throat from not speaking. "Your hands are trembling, Richard. It's rather unpleasant. I recommend you step back for a moment and take a breath before continuing." The calmness in his tone returned, never wavering, he hoped it might bring some semblance of peace to his brother. "I'm fine. Everything is fine. I'm not going to die again any time soon. Chill out."