[It doesn't matter if he did or didn't patch him up, it's the desire that's important. Dick is also a terrible patient and would rather take care of himself than have anyone else touch him, unless it's a wound in his back that has to be repaired, then he usually hands over the glue or at worst the stapler and lets someone have at it. The last time he was shot through the shoulder it cost him time at home, but no one was keeping him locked to a bed.

He leans over and kisses Bruce on the cheek, nosing against the bruising there. He knows that it's sore, but they tend to make themselves more sore whenever they have sex. Bruises are nothing in the grand world of Dick, Bruce, Nightwing or The Batman. Dick knows that Bruce can handle that everything that comes at him, even when he's worrying.

Rolling back out of bed, Dick grabs his bag and the cases in it, along with his laptop and spreads them all across the bed, closing the door and putting up a do not disturbed sign he brought with him. Let Alfred think he wants to come in on them now. The man may be some things, but dumb has never been one of them. Hand jobs do not require health or much movement on the part of the one receiving. ]

You can still walk, and I wouldn't make you sit in this bed. I'd go nuts. Now, walk if you want, if you start to pant over your rib, sit for a little bit and look at these cases with me. There are several murders and while they have a prospect, it doesn't sit right with me. It's far too easy and clean, and this doesn't feel like that. These women didn't have anything for a mugging, and they weren't all out at any one time or place. This guy confessed, but he seems bored, like he'd confess just to get out of doing the laundry.