Dick shot Kisame a quick, grateful look, then sprinted across the ground. Instinct was to hunch his shoulders and protect his head, in case it shot again after all. But that would only slow him down and make him an easier target, so he ran instead.
Adrenaline took care of the pain in his foot, leg, up his spine, and his speed took care of his balancing problem. By the time he'd overbalanced, his other leg was already coming forward to catch himself.
Dick reached the shelter of the robot and slowed, not wanting to collapse right next to Duo. He stood for a moment, silent but there, before lifting a hand and letting it rest on a narrow shoulder.
He could feel the nub of a collarbone where it attached, the swell of wiry muscle under thin cloth. He didn't say anything, because there wasn't anything to say. His job was just to be there.