Dick smiled good naturedly and muttered, "Fucker. Am not."
He wasn't smiling so good naturedly a little over an hour later. The banter had all but stopped, and he knew their pace was flagging.
Dick had gotten very, very good at ignoring injury, but that was with the help of an emergency and adrenaline. He had neither, now.
He could feel his pulse in his toes, blood thump-thumping against the new skin like a ball peen hammer against the translucent skin of bat wings.
His calf muscles were cramping, the tightness and small spasm spreading up to his hamstrings, threading into his glutes.
Dick glanced at Duo, saw the kid was pale and tight-lipped, and offered a small smile despite what felt like muscles etched with pain. He shifted closer, silent support as he shortened his stride even farther, trying to give the muscles a break. He was taking an extra stutter-step to every seven, now, his balance overwrought as his muscles grew more fatigued.
"Kisame?" Dick asked hopefully. "How much farther to the robot?"