Chapter Text
Dick smiled against Slade's shoulder, the wool coat damp with snow. The arm around his waist was firm, if muted through his own wool coat. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, letting him turn his whole body into Slade's warmth. He had to tip his head up to see his husband under the thick rim of his ski hat. Far below the bridge beneath them, the icy river and snowy forest sat in pristine view. It was an old bridge, made as part of the park trail, just some planks nailed together over a gorge. But it was sturdy, holding layers of snow.
"You block the snow nicely," Dick muffled into Slade's coat.
Slade snorted. His back, from his head down to his boots, was indeed layered with snow from the wind. There was no one around for miles and miles. They'd left the hotel and gone exploring for the day, hiking deep into the park for the afternoon. Normally, Dick hated snow and gusty winds, but with Slade it felt like an adventure. And a warm one, so he stopped whenever it got too cold and he stamped his feet and spun in a circle and buried his head in Slade's chest. And Slade smirked and snapped Dick's ski mask over his eyes. Then Dick would laugh and grin, tilt his face up expectantly until Slade kissed him and slid his hat back up off his eyes.
"We should keep moving," Slade said. "I want to get back before it gets too late."
"Fine," Dick grunted. "My legs are getting numb anyway. Let's go. I want hot chocolate when we get back."
He walked ahead, stomping to get feeling back in his feet. Behind him, Slade grunted and shook his coat, ridding the layer of snow that had built up. Dick made to leap over the last bit of the bridge onto the ground. Something shifted beneath his boots.
"Dick, wait!"
Dick tried to look back, startled by the panic in Slade's voice. His foot sank through the snow into a hole in the bridge as he twisted around. He heard his ankle snap before he felt it and then the bridge was collapsing, nothing under him to catch him. Crying out as pain finally reached his brain in a bolt of agony up his leg, he reached for a still-standing section of the bridge. His gloves passed through the snow like smoke. The angle of his fall instead smashed the corner of his head on splintered wood and, eyes blurring, he had half a second to see the horror in Slade's face before he was free falling toward the river.
He heard the echo of Slade screaming his name. Felt the wind swirling his hair around his face as he plummeted backwards. He knew he needed to adjust his descent, control how he was going to land through the thin ice. But the fire in his head blurred everything into shadows like a vignette narrowing in. Beads of blood were dropping upward from his forehead, his eyes. And he was falling, falling just like them. And oh god, he was falling while someone who loved him watched him fall. His ski cap circled in the wind, blown free from his head.
The thin ice hitting his back was like landing on a plank of spikes. It broke immediately, sucking him into the sub-zero waters and the racing current beneath the ice. He couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything. He was dragged along the river, hitting the ice trapping him beneath, the thicker layers toward the middle of the wide, raging waters. Trying to see anything was a joke. The temperature was so painful it had him gasping as soon as he'd sunk beneath, despite knowing somewhere in the back of his fuzzy brain that it was something Bruce had trained him against. It was a large gasp. His lungs filled with water in one go.
And then he was sinking toward the riverbed bottom, his coat weighing him down like an anchor. The current pulled and tugged at him, and his last thought before the dark closed over was, Slade will be destroyed.
A cracking sound like an earthquake fought the rushing noise of the river. A darker shadow covered the ones Dick was already seeing, and then gravity shifted. He was stuck on something, the water trying to break him free. But it held fast and suddenly he was being pulled against the current. It forced his head down against his chest as something dragged his arm.
Then wind. Horrible wind and air stabbing his face, his hands, bare from losing his gloves to the water. Something hard enclosed his waist, lifting. More dragging. Growls. Something was growling. Wolves in the snowy forest? That would track, surely. Okay, so he was going to be eaten by wolves. Hopefully he could finish dying first.
His body sank through something soft and cold. Snow on the ground? He was rolled flat onto his back, limbs flopping wide. Drenched hair was pulled from his face, brushed aside, and his chin was tilted up, forcing his head back. He couldn't open his eyes to see. Couldn't feel anything but a raging mix of pain and numbness flaying his skin all the way to his bones. Couldn't breathe.
"Dick, wake up! Wake the fuck up! C'mon!"
The voice roared through his mind, even though he couldn't respond. Something slapped his face hard. Twice, three times. Then he felt like he was sinking further in the snow, his back a range of fire against the ground as a heavy weight pushed on his chest again and again and again. Ribs were bending somewhere. He felt the cracking, but didn't feel the pain. Everything hurt too much already. His chest felt full. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't tell how much time had passed.
Something hot and wet against his mouth, air forced into his throat. Then more weight on his chest. More growling coming from nearby. On and on as he disconnected from his body, unable to stay.
"Don't you fucking do this to me. Don't you fucking do this. Not on vacation. I'm gonna kill you, Dick."
More and more. His mind was roaring with pain, denied oxygen. The growls grew more and more frantic.
“Please, Dick! Breathe, goddammit!”
Dick didn’t know how to breathe. How to come back. It was so heavy. It hurt so much.
“God, no. No. No, FUCK! It’s not...you’re not...oh my god"
Someone was choking, almost sobbing it sounded like. "Don’t do this, little bird. Don’t you do this to me... What am I gonna do...what am I fucking gonna do...god, DICK!”
A roar of rage and hurt sounded above him, something pounding the earth by his head. The scream rang in his head, echoing everywhere and down into his chest.
Dick's whole body jolted suddenly, back arching on its own as water filled his throat and out his open mouth. Over and over, his stomach clenched and expelled water. His lungs shook as he breathed again for the first time and he gagged on the water leaving him bit by bit.
"Holy fuck...Dick! I knew it! I knew it! You little bastard, you!" More sobs of relief and exhaustion.
He still couldn't see, couldn't feel. Could only exist in agony as his body fought its way back to life. He was screaming, but he just heard noises. Gargling and rasping and choking--god, he couldn't stop choking. Wasn't the water supposed to be leaving? Hands turned him onto his side and, oh, okay this seemed easier a bit. He was seizing and spasming, limbs kicking, looking for grounding. And then he was surrounded, something hard but freezing finding its way into his flailing hands. An arm. Wool?
"Breathe, Dick! Deep breaths. You're okay, little bird. Keep coughing. Keep breathing."
He couldn't stop shaking even though he wasn't even doing it on his own. He let out another strangled scream of pain, fighting for awareness. Gravity shifted again and he was pulled onto something hard, pressure surrounding him. Rising off the ground. Was he flying? More hardness behind his knees and around his back. Arms? He was being carried? His face met something hot underneath the initial icy touch. Against his ear, a roaring pulse louder than the river. It was too loud.
After a moment, he registered it as Slade's neck and chest. He was in Slade's arms, hearing his heartbeat. Slade was carrying him. He'd pulled him from the river.
"Stay with me, kid. Stay with me."
Dick continued choking up water and it ran down his chest. He was still shaking all over, but Slade was holding him close and tight, so he wasn't flailing around anymore. A stuttering sob of pain burst out of him.
"Don't you fall asleep yet, Dick. You stay awake, goddammit."
Dick couldn't have responded even if he wanted to. And he did want to. He really did. He still couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not since all he could see were shadows. And he still couldn't breathe. Weird noises kept coming out of his throat, like the way the wind sounded in the high trees. He was being stabbed all over, the knives twisting and slicing. He was completely powerless to control any of it. His body wasn't responding. His lungs felt stuck and he just couldn't...get them...to fill with air. A frightened whimper left his mouth between the wheezing.
"Fuck. Fuck! No, no, no, okay, Dick. Here we go. Let's stop. We're gonna stop now, little bird. Here's a spot."
Pine. Thick pine was overwhelming in his nose. And the smell of dirt. The cold blasts of air felt muted, sounded softer. He registered being set down. Hands on his face. But he still couldn't see anything. Couldn't close his mouth, stop the gasping sound in his chest.
Harsh snaps filled the air, cracking through the silent forest. Like the trees were falling. Thuds vibrated the ground near him and then there was rustling. Branches and boughs thrown together. On top of each other? Rocks. Scraping sounds. More growls--Slade was cursing. Dick hadn't heard him curse this badly in a long time.
Crackling. Crackling and more noise. And then Dick smelled smoke. Fire?
"That'll do for now. Next step, get out of these fucking clothes... No smart comment?"
He was being pulled, his limbs bent and tugged, and he grew more and more frigid as he sensed layers of clothing being removed. The coat, sweater, shirt, then his boots and socks, even his pants and--hell, no--his boxers? He was naked in the middle of a fucking snowy forest. And he was still shivering and choking up bits of water. His whole torso shuddered in and out as his breaths came in spasms, broken moans. He wanted to hug his arms, draw his knees up. But he couldn't move. There was more rustling. Soaked fabric hitting the ground. More pine boughs dragging the snow.
"Here we go, here we go. Stay with me, Dick. I know you can hear me, baby. It's all gonna be okay. Just trust me."
Then he was being lifted off the ground and arranged on his side. The pine branches felt a bit scratchy but were relatively dry, and he realized he was laying on them like a pallet of sorts. Keeping them off the ground. He felt the fire at his back and it burned, but in a good way. Still, it hurt. Something was wrong with his back. Something more. He let out a slow, weak scream, and his body shifted, trying to move away.
But then hands were on him and he was being pulled against Slade's also naked body. Head tucked under Slade's chin, legs folded up to his chest and arms. Slade's legs were tucked up under him, his torso long enough to hold Dick curled in a fetal position. Something heavy was draped over them and he jumped, sensing the wet wool coat. But it was larger, so it must be Slade's, and it wasn't soaking like his own had been earlier. Maybe he took it off before going into the river after Dick?
Slade's arms wrapped around his shivering shoulders and held him close and nearly suffocating. They gently, so gently, pressed up and down his skin all over. Dick arched and cried out again at the pain in his back he could feel above the freezing knives covering him everywhere else. And his ankle was on fire. If that's what he was feeling. Stabbing in his skull.
"I know, I know. Carved your back up like a fucking canyon landing through the ice. It's a mess. You're a mess. Banged up your head, too."
Dick blinked. Noticed he could blink for the first time, and slowly started to see more definition in the shadows. Though the coat was pulled over his head, he could feel Slade's hot breaths against the back of his neck where he was curled up in his chest, shaking like a leaf. He saw bright white light from under the coat below Slade's knees. He saw Slade's body moving as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, warming the air under the coat.
He couldn't feel his fingers, but he saw them twitch and he jerked them, saw them brush Slade's stomach.
"Dick?" Slade flinched at the icy touch and moved a hand from Dick’s back to the side of his face, tilting it up away from his chest a bit. Still all under the coat covering them like a tarp.
Dick made another noise in his throat and started hissing, his brain finally realizing his mouth was trying to say Slade's name. He could only get the first two letters out beyond his shuddering gasps and chattering teeth, but that seemed good enough for Slade, who groaned in what Dick thought sounded like relief.
"You with me, Dick?" Fingers stroking his head? He couldn't exactly tell.
"Y...y-y-yeah," Dick managed. "M-m c-c-cold."
Slade cradled Dick's head harder and wheezed out a laugh. But it was also...angry?
"No fucking shit," he grunted. "You are the most--"
"W-want..."
Slade stopped immediately. "What's that, little bird?"
Dick pressed his forehead harder against Slade's sternum, feeling him breathe. He twitched his fingers against Slade's muscled torso, and a large hand came down to hold them. One hand. Slade could hold both of Dick's hands in just one of his own. The long fingers and callused palm felt so nice encircling his, pressing feeling back into them. Trying to, anyway.
"Want m-my h-h...hot choc...late."
Slade breathed in and out heavily through his nose. The give-me-patience-but-also-you're-my-everything sigh. "No room service tonight, kid," he mumbled.
"N-nigh-t?" They were staying out here all night? They'd freeze.
"No way you'd make it till we reached the road again, let alone back to town to the hospital. And I don't have any of my shit with me,” Slade said. “Better chances out here. Between my body heat and the fire and the insulation against the wind, we'll be all right until morning. Your core temperature’s gotta get back up a bit or you’ll go into shock again."
"B-b-but y-you..."
"I'll be fine, Dick. The serum's not gonna let me get fucking frostbite. You, on the other hand. Not letting you lose any toes or fingers. Don't you worry about me, okay?"
Dick made a sound of distress and tried to make his fingers hold Slade's hand harder. This was all his fault. He hadn't meant to fall. He hadn't meant to break the bridge. But if he hadn't fallen in the river, Slade wouldn't have had to go in after him. And they'd both be back in warm beds right now, doing lots of fun things involving sex and hot chocolate and blanket fortresses and pillows.
One of Slade's hands cradled his head again, working through his soaked hair to try and dry it, keep it off his scalp. He touched carefully at the place above Dick's brow where it hurt. The fire crackled behind Dick and pressed heat all along his spine.
"I have been through way worse than this, Dick. Trust me. Nothing is going to happen, okay? You just need to close your eyes now. Rest a bit."
Dick huffed and made a growl of his own, but it came out like a rasping wreck and sent him coughing. Pain shot everywhere, extra and sharp. He was reminded of the ribs damaged from Slade reviving him on the riverbank. Slade shushed him and pressed hands up and down his side, avoiding the deep slices along his back.
"I know, I know. Just think," he said softly as Dick's coughing subsided. "In different circumstances, this could be quite the romantic environment, no? Sleeping beside a roaring fire. Starry skies above. The smell of snow."
"B-b-b-bahamas," Dick coughed out.
Slade chuckled and pressed his mouth to Dick's hair. "Yeah, okay. With my luck you'd fry in the sand like a fish."
"Al-most d...died in th-the desert...once...S-s-s-Spyral."
Slade sighed long and hard again, hands tightening as they continued carefully pressing warmth into his fragile skin. Dick was still shaking, his body tingling like knives stabbing everywhere. Even as small areas slowly, slowly began regaining sensation, they did so like the outer layer was being peeled off raw. There was nowhere on his body he didn't hurt. Was he freezing or was he burning?
"Really need you to go to sleep now, Dick, before I get angry," Slade muttered.
"Didn't d-die, th-though."
"I don't give a shit. Whenever you mention that name, I want to break something. And I can't break something cause I'm busy holding you. So, maybe wait till I can go punch down another tree for the fire, okay?"
Dick curled his fingers against Slade's chest--sweating somehow in the hot air steaming under the coat. His touch was enough of an answer. He focused on doing it over and over, just moving his fingertips along the hard, hot skin, feeling the sensation to remind himself he wasn't frozen. Not like he would have been. Since he’d...
He heard himself whine pitifully in fear and distress, felt Slade’s hot breath on his face, a hand in his hair, a gentle rumbling voice reassuring him.
“F-f-f-f-falling,” he managed. Then gasps sounding like sobs.
“I know, sweetheart.” Slade sounded frightened too. “I know. But I got you. I’ll always get you back up. Always.”
Dick focused on keeping his hands tucked against Slade’s chest. He listened to his voice. He repeated it back to himself. He did it until he finally drifted off to the sound of the wind and the fire and Slade's steady breaths. Even if he didn't wake up from this frozen nightmare, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else than right here, held safe in his husband's arms. Sheltered from the world.