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[jinmukangwrites]

Shaky Hands

Summary: Damian runs into Scarecrow for the first time. Dick’s understandably worried.

Warnings: Fear Toxin and all the fun stuff that comes with it.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick’s going to have an aneurysm. Either that or he’s going to burst a vein. He thought he had finally gotten through to Damian, made him understand that they are Batman and Robin and they work together. They don’t run off in the middle of enemy territory to face people like Scarecrow alone.

Dang it. Bruce is probably rolling in his grave.

He leaves the goons he’s just finished taking out zip tied in the hallway of the building they found themselves in and sprints towards where he saw Robin disappear off to just a few minutes ago, cape billowing behind him.

He thought they were past this. He thought Damian has learned his lesson that he’s not invincible. After all the shit they’ve been through together, how could he not?!

Clearly, Dick’s mistaken.

Dick is so going to make Damian clean the floorboards with nothing but a toothbrush after this. God damn. Jesus. Amen.

“Robin?” He calls out, turning a corner and opening a random door. There’s nothing inside but furniture covered in tarps and dust. He lets out a growl, slams the door shut, and continues to the next room, finding much of the same thing.

Damn it. Damian hasn’t ever faced off against Jonathan Crane before. He doesn’t know what to expect or how to defend himself from a man whose the expert in his craft. That craft being fear. Fear that can do who knows what to a ten year old kid like Damian. He doesn’t want to think about the horrors Damian would see if under the effects of fear toxin, with the way his life has been it could be anything. The kid’s been through so much, so much more than what Dick can even begin to understand.

“Robin!”

He slams the next door shut, and another, beginning to feel a little desperate. Where is everyone? Where’s Robin?

Where’s Crane?

Suddenly, further down the hallway there’s the sound of shattering glass and something else banging heavily against a wall. Dick stiffens his jaw and quickens his pace towards the noises, and as he approaches his blood runs cold when more noises reach his ears. Laughter. Smashing glass, more bangs. Dick doesn’t hesitate to swing open the door and what he comes across is a demolished room with knocked over metal tables and vials of unknown substances stuttered against walls with torn wallpaper. Scarecrow is here, and so is Robin Dick notices with a spike of fear. Damian is fighting like a cornered animal while Scarecrow violently swings a scythe (where does he even get those?!), thankfully missing and slicing up the nearby wall even more.

Dick jumps into battle without a second of hesitation. He pulls out a gas bomb and launches it at Crane’s feet, causing the man to cry out and stumble backwards away from Robin. Vapor fills the room and Dick runs forward, ramming into Crane’s side viciously with a well placed kick. Scarecrow goes flying backwards, dropping the scythe and hitting the back wall hard enough to crack it. Dick cant help but notice that Robin is sliding backwards against the wall behind him, breathing hard and clutching his arm. Blood is sluggishly seeping out from the wound, not enough to be an immediate cause for concern, but enough to make Dick worry. Scarecrow is good with a scythe, but Damian is better at dodging. Something happened that made Damian not dodge in time.

Scarecrow groans from the back wall, but his chest is shuttering with small jolts of laughter. “Big bad bat, come to rescue the scared birdie?”

Dick snarls and charges forward once again, dodging Cranes last attempt at swinging his scythe and then executing a well placed blow to the back of his neck, knocking him out cold.

It’s silent for a second, nothing but the sound of Crane’s body slumping against the floor, but then suddenly, a small whimper meets his ears and he spins around, rushing with no hesitation to where Damian is curled up with his knees to his forehead, his hand wrapped so tight around his arms wound that it must be white knuckled.

“Hey, hey, I’m here,” he says, crouching down next to Damian and bringing his hands forward to comfort the kid. He’s never seen Damian like this, and it scares the hell out of him.

“I’m sorry,” Damian whimpers when Dick comes too close, he curls in tighter around himself and Dick pulls his hands away like he’s been burned, “I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry-”

And then, Dick understands.

He keeps any swears to himself, to not startle Damian even more than what he is, and reaches towards his utility belt to uncap a prepared vial of antitoxin. He uncaps it and slides the needle in, flicking any bubbles before he creeps closer to Damian. “Every thing’s going to be okay, I promise,” Dick whispers.

Damian nearly jumps out of his skin the moment Dick grabs the bicep of his injured arm. Dick can hardly even prepare himself before a steel toed boot is slamming into his jaw and the syringe thrown across the room. Dick swears and Damian cries out in anger, fear, pick one, and lunges for a blind attack. Thankfully, and Dick hates to call it that, the fear running in Damian’s veins throws the kid off just enough for Dick to grab his fist mid punch and jump out of the way of a swinging sword with his other. Dick tugs Damian close by his captured hand but Damian retaliates by kicking Dick’s legs out from under him.

He lands hard on his back but he at least kept his grasp on Damian’s hand. He swings his own leg out and knocks out Damian’s balance, pulling him down towards Dick in the process. Damian gives a pitiful cry when Dick finally manages to wrap both of his arms around the kid, restraining flailing limbs. Damian kicks out, screaming and crying and Dick simply wraps his own legs around Damian’s flailing ones and holds him until Damian’s voice cracks with a sob.

Dick feels like his heart is going to break, but he doesn’t waste time just sitting there any longer. He slowly and carefully begins to scoot backwards and transfers his restraining hold to just one arm so he can reach out and grab the antitoxin. Damian is full on crying now, and the things he’s saying makes Dick want to cry himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, don’t leave me, I didn’t mean it, I’m not evil I swear, no no no Grayson please don’t leave me-”

Dick grinds his teeth and jams the needle into Damian’s arm, right next to his still bleeding wound where Dick suspects the fear toxin made entry in the first place. At first, Damian restarts his panic full throttle and Dick is forced to throw the empty syringe across the room so he can clutch his baby brother close as the antitoxin slowly begins it’s work.

“I’m here, Dami, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here-”

Dick hopes to god above that the antitoxin will work; it’s a catch all, made to fight the chemicals that frequently show up in Scarecrows poisons. He’d hate to have Damian suffer any longer than what he has to, and if he doesn’t calm down Dick will be forced to properly restrain him and get him to the cave so he and Alfred can get going on a better antidote.

Thankfully though, Damian does eventually go limp with a final sob, falling boneless against Dick’s chest with a pitiful mewl. “I’m here, shh shh shh, I got you…”

He keeps whispering and comforting until Damian’s small cries turn into even smaller sniffles, until he’s interrupted by a hand closing around one of his own.

“I’m okay now,” Damian says in a hardly comprehensible whisper. “You can let go now…”

He sound’s small, and Dick cant see his face but he’s sure his cheeks are red with embarrassment. As much as Dick doesn’t want to let him go, he also doesn’t want to make Damian uncomfortable in any way right now. He’s about to agree and let go, tie up Crane, call Gordon, and take Robin home to do some blood work and prepare his speech about how Robin could have gotten himself killed and yada yada yada… but then Dick notices Damian’s hand is still clutched around his own.

His hands are shaking.

Dick sighs and switches his grasp so it’s no longer restraining and more like a cuddle, pulling Damian closer to him while the kid calls out with a slight squawk.

“I’ll never leave you, Damian,” he says before he can really think about it. Damian stills, swallows, and relaxes into Dick’s grasp.

Everything can wait right now. All that matters is the kid in his arms just coming off his first dosage of fear toxin. Dick doesn’t want to think about all the stuff Damian has seen while under the influence, how long he had to hold of Crane on his own until Dick got there to save the day. He forces that all out of his mind so he can gather Damian closer and press his nose into Damian’s hair, watching Damian’s shaking hands like a hawk, until those tremors slowly still and Damian closes his eyes, cheek resting against the bat symbol on Dick’s chest.

“I got you, Dami,” he whispers, pressing his lips into his hair. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Damian hums sleepily. “I know…”

Then, so small Dick isn’t even sure if he heard it.

“Thank you.”

[harveywritings92]

Dick Grayson x Older!reader ch 2 [2/2]

The next morning was hell for Y/n first she wakes up with a splitting headache in one of the guest rooms of Wayne manor, she felt her stomach churn trying figuring out how she gotten there...when Alfred entered the room.

"Oh miss Y/n you're awake..." the girl winced feeling her head pulse in her ears "Alfred...How did I?" the old man frowned obviously disappointed and put some clothes down for her, the h/c recognized them as Dick's "Go take a shower and meet Master Bruce downstairs, he has matters to discuss with you." Alfred said sharply the H/c swallowed hard as she went into the room's adjoining bathroom,

after getting cleaned up Y/n nervously made her way downstairs to the den where Bruce and Dick were waiting for her both were pretty tense as she appeared in the archway. Bruce motioned for her to sit on the love-seat next to Dick who was looking at anywhere else but her, While his foster father cleared his throat. 

"So, I've been told you had a rather interesting night." Bruce said jarringly keeping his sharp eyes on her, Y/n felt butterflies in her stomach as she tried to find her voice only for Bruce to speak up again. "How long?" he asked eyes narrowed the h/c shivered at his cold tone. 

"I got the fake ID from some dude, my friend Lacy..." the rave haired man frowned and put his hand up "We'll talk about that in a moment, I'm talking about Batman and Robin." Y/n blanched realizing she must've ran into one of them while she was drunk and called them by their real name.

"Oh, that...This is gonna be anti-Climatic, But I've known since I was thirteen." She said nonchalantly both Bruce and Dick both gawked at her stunned she shrugged. "You guys aren't very subtle,Robin gets a broken wrist, Dick has a broken wrist...Batman takes a cane to the face by Riddler and Bruce has a broken nose and a poorly concealed black eye."

 She pointed out with a shrug as the adoptive father and son flushed thinking they had hidden it so well. "Though... I'll give you props, I was a whisker away from reporting you to CPS before it clicked..." A long tense pause filled the air before being broken by Bruce coughing.

"Yes, I suppose that would hard to miss...have you said anything to anyone about this?" 

"Noop.."

"And why's that?"

"It's not my business, why should I ruin your life for a few fifteen minutes of fame?"

With all that said Bruce decided to move on to a more pressing matter "Dick would you leave the room? Y/n and I have adult matters to discuss." Dick blinked and looked between his adoptive father and friend obviously confused. "Adult matters? I'm three years younger then her! what--" the h/c girl sitting next to him grabbed his hand and shot the raven haired boy a look that begged him to listen.

Dick huffed and stomped out of the room and when they were sure he was gone. Bruce gave Y/n a look a concern father could muster "Dick told me what happened with Blaine, I'm sorry Y/n..." The h/c haired girl let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair.

 "I should be the one apologizing there's no excuse for-" the raven haired man wasn't having it. "It was irresponsible, but not your fault... You were heartbroken and vulnerable, which leads me to the current matter." He cleared his throat unsure of how to approach this.

"I've noticed you've been sickly the last month or so, have you and Blaine been active?" She didn't have to answer the look she was giving Bruce was enough to confirm his suspicions. "I had Alfred leave a test in the guest room..did you use it?" Y/n nodded biting her lip, unbeknownst to either of them Dick was listening in on the conversation, His mouth felt dry as the seconds ticked by in what seemed like hours, Y/n spoke up.

"It was negative." Dick felt like a huge weight had just been lifted off his back, He heard Bruce sigh in relief before speaking... "is another reason for your symptoms?" Y/n explain how it was probably PMS mixed stress from exam week and amenorrhea caused by her birth control pills, apparently it's pretty common to get the symptoms mixed up for pregnancy.

 She apologized again Bruce told her it was fine just as long that she was alright. "Also give up the ID..." Dick heard Y/n sigh and assumed she had her wallet on her. "...and the other one." Bruce huffed the h/c sucked her teeth "thank-you, Audrey Hepburn and..Judy Garland?" the billionaire questioned "Hey what can I say, I have love for the classics." Y/n joked Bruce didn't find the humor in it just hummed before letting her leave. 

later

Y/n and Dick were at her place watching TV occasionally the boy's eyes would wander to Y/n's lips...then down towards her chest she was wearing his black v-neck East 39 shirt and teal swim shorts, damn she looked good in his clothes....

he swallowed hard before awkwardly turning back to the TV if she moved or turned to look at him. "Dick is everything alright?" the h/c asked concerned glancing at him in her peripheral, Dick's ears turned red "Uh...it's j-just this movie gets me all the time." he stuttered trying to sound sad.

Y/n looked at him funny "We're watching Corner Gas??" she said bemused the boy looked at the screen and saw Hank baking to death in a snowsuit telling Brent how to fix an air conditioner. 

Dick felt his stomach churn what the hell was he supposed to say?! *hey...I don't want to like freak you out, but you drunkenly kissed me last night! and I want to know what was up with that?!* But told her he was still angry that she had gotten drunk and hid the fact that she knew about Batman and Robin,y/n apologized again which frustrated Dick more.

She could get in big trouble anyone ever found out that kiss he sighed, and fell back on to her bed..."Dude you're laying on my bra.." The older girl pointed out the boy yelped and rolled off her bed, Causing Y/n to giggle at his flustered face.

 before asking if he wanted to go get some pizza and two of them pretty much the day together talking and catching up on things, when it was time for Dick to go home Y/n dropped him off. "Thanks Dick." the raven haired boy leaned into the driver-side window to look at the h/c girl curiously.

"For what exactly?" he asked wondering for last night or today in general? "For being here." without thinking she leaned over to the younger teen and kissed him...Before Dick could respond Y/n recoiled and looked horrified as he gawked at her "I-.." She couldn't say anything and drove out of the manor's driveway, leaving a red face flabbergasted Dick behind. 

When she was far away from the manor the e/c eyed pullover and started slamming her head against the steering wheel. "Stupid,stupid,Stupid!.." She berated herself, Why did she do that? Y/n wanted to feel disgusted she wanted to be ashamed of herself, But she couldn't she'd been denying it for god damn long...She was in Love with Richard Grayson.

Adopted son of Bruce Wayne and boy wonder of Gotham! At first it was subtle Dick was always clingy, protective and affectionate towards her and he felt like a little brother to her! And Then one day he wasn't...she wasn't sure when it happened, maybe it was when she noticed he was getting taller or his voice was getting deeper but, at some point her feelings started changing. 

the awkward little boy she use play Mario bros. with or debate whether or not Batman could kick Iron-man's butt was growing into a very strong, determined man...

At first she felt gross and ashamed for being attracted to a boy three years her junior, So when Blaine started showing false interest in her Y/n seize to opportunity to try and make those feelings go away and for time it worked...or so she thought!

Her stomach felt like ball of prickly ice when she heard Dick was dating Zatanna, the h/c couldn't stop feeling jealous and avoided Dick when she could but being his...well nanny, not matter how much Dick insist she's his tutor.

Something always came up; Dick broke his arm on patrol and needs a scribe for homework. Alfred's on vacation or sick and someone needs to take care of the manor's up keep, there was no staying away! and now she's probably ruined their friendship! 

Y/n debated whether to go back to manor and try to apologize or just go home and cry into tub of (fav Ice-cream/froyo) she looked at the dash clock 21:42 both Batman and Robin were on patrol...So, there was no going back with a forlorn sigh Y/n started her car and went home...to wallow in her misery.

[fanficksandimagines]

‘Delicate’- G.D.

•  Grayson Dolan x reader • SONG: Delicate (Taylor Swift) • Song number: 38 

• Warnings: alcohol, making out??? Is that even a warning?

• Requested by - 

Anon: “for the song imagines, can you do a Grayson Dolan one with delicate by Taylor swift? thanks!!”

and

@lizzy-xie​: “delicate t.s. for Grayson Dolan please?💕”

A/n: I don’t know about you, but for me BLONDE!Grayson really fits this imagine. Just my opinion, though. I did use only half of the song, so maybe a part two? That’s of course if you want it; let me know. 

Credits to owner for the gif

~~~

Wake up, get over hangover, hang out with friends, get ready for the evening, party, hook up, pass out.

Wake up, hangover, friends, get ready, party, hook up, pass out.

Wake up, hangover, friends, party, hook up, pass out.

The only outcome you had for every night of the week. At least that’s what they were spreading around.

Rumors, that ‘someone’ had started, had floated all around the city. Well, part of it wasn't really a lie. You did have a pretty good reputation as a party girl. There wasn't a party you didn't attend. It wasn't a good party if you weren't gonna be at it. It got to the point where, people would ask the host, if you'll be there, and if not, they didn't really want to go.

You were a social butterfly, one of the most popular girls around. It wasn't just your popularity that got people hooked on you, you were also sweet and kind hearted. You talked to everyone who was willing to hold a conversation; willing to listen if someone wasn't heard. Your open minded persona shined through the conversations, pulling people close like a magnet.

Partying every week didn't mean that you hooked up with every guy possible, thought. You had a stable relationship with your high school sweetheart, that had lasted for over a year… Up until five months ago. Your boyfriend had started hooking up with girls at almost every party you guys went to. You walked in on him and one of the girls you used to call 'best friend'. You broke things off immediately.

The girl asked you to forgive her and give her a second chance, your boyfriend had found a new lover. Since you didn't give her a second chance, she decided to spread rumors. She was more popular and everyone believed her.

You hadn't gone to a party ever since some guys started harassing you and asking if the rumors were real, trying to get into your pants. ~~~

Your older brother was throwing a party, something he hadn't done since high school, but now that he was back from college, he wanted to throw a big welcome back party for himself and his friends, at his new house; inviting almost everyone they knew in the town, including you. At first you said no, but he was your brother, so he had his ways on convincing you to come anyways.

Later on, when the party started, you quickly started to search for a room with as less people as possible, the shady looks and whispers, getting the best of you.

After walking around the mansion like house for what felt the entire evening, you finally found an empty place, it was the balcony of your brothers room. You closed the door after yourself and sat down on the chair, that was placed in the corner. The fresh air feeling like a relief for your lungs, you placed your glass of mojito on the small coffee table, and made yourself more comfortable. It wasn't the warmest night of the year, but the small breeze on your legs didn't bother you that much, as you were wearing only shorts and a t-shirt.

~~~ This ain't for the best My reputation's never been worse, so You must like me for me... We can't make Any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink… ~~~

Sitting on the balcony alone, you were scrolling though some apps just to pass time. You had been out there for long enough to empty the glass. You were debating on going after another drink when someone outdoors caught your attention.

It was Grayson, wandering around the backyard. He and his twin brother used to go to the same school as you; you were classmates. He was a great guy with a bright and sparkly persona, sadly not everyone noticed that. As he and his brother grew on vine and YouTube, they soon left the town, moving to LA.

The handsome boy walked around the backyard, looking at the décors placed around it, minding his own business. Then you remembered what your brother said 'no one goes in the backyard; The indoors will be enough to clean up', so you decided to speak up, even if he wasn't trashing up the place.

"Hey!" you shouted with a nice manner in your voice, making him look behind him, "up here!" You waved your hand up a little, getting his attention.

"Hi!" he answered the corner of his mouth slightly lifting up as he smiled.

"You know, you're not supposed to be there."

"I don't think you're in the right place either." he said back smirking, making you smirk back.

"It's my brothers house, I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to be here."

"I didn't mean that.You're at a party, shouldn't you be downstairs taking shots and dancing to that terrible music, Y/n?" he asked back coming closer to the balcony, making it easier for you to see him.

"Yeah, not really a fan of that anymore." you replied back.

"What ya drinking?" He stood with hiis hands down in his jeans pockets.

You were quiet for a bit, "Mojito?" it came out more like a question.

"Mojito? Is that a question?"

"No?"

"Well, I'll have to disappoint you, they're out of sprite and limes; so what about margaritas?"

"Alright."

"Alright? Great! Before I go, what room is it?"

"The last door in the hallway." you smiled, Grayson nodded and walked inside.

~~~ Come here, you can meet me in the back Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you Oh damn, never seen that colour blue

~~~

Minutes later there was a slight tapping on the balcony door. It was Grayson with two glasses in his hands and a bag of chips in his teeth. You quickly stood up opening the door.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" he said, his words slightly muffled with the bag of chips still in his teeth. You smirked taking the bag.

"I wouldn't."

You let him walk out on the balcony, closing the door behind. You went back to your seat that was still warm and put the chips on the coffee table next to your empty glass.

"So, how's LA?" you questioned as he placed the glasses down on the table, one closer to you.

"Honestly, boring." He answered taking a seat in front of you.

The balcony wasn't lighted up, to not attract mosquitoes, but it was bright enough to see his dark jeans and Nikes. He was wearing a marine blue camouflage jacket and a black t-shirt underneath. His outfit looked expensive and fashionable.

"Since when are you not a fan of parties, though?" it was his turn to ask a question.

"It's been a while."

"I heard the rumours," your smile instantly faded, "I call bullshit."

You were quiet for a bit.

"As much as I know you, I don't believe it; besides it’s Veronica who is spreading it around." He went on.

"Yeah, we're not friends any-more."

"I figured.”

The topic soon changed, and you started to feel pretty comfortable again. Grayson told you about some adventures in Australia and Hawaii, throwing some jokes in between, making you laugh. It was slightly unusual for you to be the listener, but it was nice.

As the night went on, the air got colder. You started to shiver slightly, as you were telling a story about how you and your brother went on a road trip. Grayson noticed the goosebumps on your skin.

"And then the car ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere-"

"Sorry to interrupt." He apologized standing up and taking his jacket off, handing it to you.

You looked at the jacket and then at him, he nodded your way. You took it and put it on. It would be a lie, if you'd deny that it didn't smell like his cologne and you liked it. It was warm and soft.

You went on with your story.

~~~ 'Cause I like you This ain't for the best My reputation's never been worse, so You must like me for me…

~~~ You liked Grayson as a friend, at least that’s what you used to think.

At this point in the night you both were sitting on the carpet by the bed, close to each other, wrapped up in a blanket. You kept talking, your head now resting on his shoulder.

~~~ Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate Is it cool that I said all that Is it too soon to do this yet? ~~~ You weren't sure how and when, but somehow, from just talking, both of you went to making out.

"You know, you're really good looking." You blurted out between the kisses, making him laugh a little.

Instead of answering he placed his lips back on yours.

You could swear to god, he was getting in your head. You couldn't help, but fantasize how his hands would trace your body.  How you'd take off his shirt. How he'd take off yours. It was starting to get messy.

At this point you didn't care about your own reputation, it was worse than ever, and there was no lower point to go, but his? His reputation was delicate. He was famous after all.

Even if you had known Grayson since middle school, it didn't mean that you were friends this whole time. You just knew each other. Maybe it's too soon.

Your mind was filling up with doubt, making you pull your lips away from his.

"Everything alright?" he noticed that something was wrong.

"Is it too soon to... You know." you suddenly felt awkward and ridiculous as you let your doubts over do you.

"Maybe, maybe not. I mean, we don't have to, if you don't wanna keep going." he was so calm about the situation.

"You know what? screw it!" you pushed all the clouded thought away and kissed him again, making him smile in the kiss. It was clear that he liked you too.

You moved into his lap, keeping your lips attached to his.

Having no clue where this was going, you both gave in the lust filled emotions, spending the rest of the night having sex.

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 27)

Description: Everyone starts to settle back into routine. But the danger is far from passed. 

tagging: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo ; @princesstopgun ; @mysteli

Chapter 27: Spectre of the Hydra

Jake

Every so often, when I'm pulling up to the beach house after a day at work, I'm struck all over again by the grandeur of the place where I'm currently living. There was a time I might have actively rebelled against living in opulent splendor. Having grown up in more modest surroundings myself, the time was such luxury would have felt suffocating. And if Alodia weren't living in this place with me, I think it still would. But her presence could make a damp, moldy cave into a home for me, and it can certainly do as much for a waterfront mansion in California. Besides, there's no denying that it's gonna be an amazing place to raise our kid.

I park the car and make my way around to the front door. I hang up my keys in the foyer and wander into the kitchen to grab a cold glass of water. With temperatures squeaking past eighty degrees Fahrenheit, it's unusually hot today for October, even in southern California. Through the dining room window, I can see Varyyn on the deck, doing some kind of Vaanti tai chi or something. Another advantage to this place is that the property is enclosed enough that Varyyn can actually enjoy the beach for awhile without drawing attention to himself. I fill a glass with tapwater, top it off with a couple cubes from the icemaker in the freezer door, and make my way out into the balmy autumn air. Varyyn pauses when he sees me.

“Good afternoon, Jake. I didn't realize it was so late already.”

“It's almost seven. Either of our spouses home?”

“Yours is. The last I knew, she was resting. Diego called to say he will likely be late tonight.”

I nod in acknowledgment and go up to the bedroom I share with my wife. Alodia isn't in bed when I get there, but I can hear the shower going in the bathroom. I tug off my work clothes and hang them up, lying down on the bed in my boxers to wait for her. She emerges within a few minutes, a bathrobe wrapped around her body, her wet hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She grins when she sees me.

“What, no rose between your teeth?” she quips.

“Oh, you thought this was for your benefit?” I tease back. “I was just waiting for a shower.”

She chuckles, shrugging. “Well, you know you're basically a piece of meat to me.” She makes her way to sit on the edge of the bed and bends to kiss me. “Mmm, you taste like afternoon coffee.”

“You taste like toothpaste. Much more pleasant.” I tug lightly at the edge of her robe, folded over her swollen breasts. “Is this for my benefit?”

“If you tread lightly. They're still tender.”

I withdraw my hand to find hers. “Probably for the best at the moment. I'm guessing I don't smell much better than I taste. I've been sweating in a business suit all day.”

“I was sweating through dance classes most of my day.”

I prop myself up on my elbow, looking at her with concern as I reach out to tuck a strand of wet hair behind her ear.

“Are you sure you should be dancing right now?”

“Relax, Top Gun. I'm mostly marking. Not doing anything River and I can't handle...” She trails off, averting her eyes. Her profile settles into a frown. I sit up, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“...You okay, Princess?”

“I...went into the poolhouse earlier...”

I exhale slowly. The poolhouse. Where we've been keeping the trunk we got from the crystal planet. The trunk containing the Andromeda idol.

“...Did you...?”

“No. ...I didn't want to alone. ...It's active, though. It was calling me. It's calmed down now, but...I could feel it.”

“You know it's gonna keep up until you touch it.”

“I know. But as long as I can—ung!” She cuts herself off with a sharp gasp, pitching forward slightly and clutching her belly.

“Alodia!” I launch myself off the bed, kneeling in front of her. “What is it, Princess? Are you okay?”

She raises her head, her eyes wide. “...They moved. ...Jake, our baby moved!” She breaks into a grin, laughing dazedly. “River Skye is alive!”

“...River...?” I let my hand drift to her belly. She smiles a little.

“You may not be able to feel anything yet,” she cautions, even as she opens her robe to place my hand on the swell. I wait for a moment, my hand pressed flat to her belly.

“I...I don't know...I can't tell if I'm feeling River or gas.”

She laughs. “Trust me, I feel River.”

“Hell, Princess, that's good enough for me.” I rise to press my lips to hers. “My beautiful wife. Mother of my child.”

I kiss her again. And I keep kissing her. I want to distract her. I want her to forget about that amber thing in the poolhouse. I know it's ultimately futile. But just for now...just for a little while...

Lila

Five years ago, I woke up in a hospital in Florida. The last thing I could remember was lying on the floor, surrounded by the bodies of Arachnid soldiers. I was satisfied, knowing that I had protected the Selected, that I had covered their escape. I thought I was dead. But there I was, in a hospital bed and a gown with a needle in my hand. On the television set mounted to the corner of the ceiling, I watched Mr. Rourke being led out of a courtroom in handcuffs, shouting about the crystal people coming for us all.

Things were a little bit of a blur when I got out of the hospital. I gave them a false name as a precaution, and it stuck. As far as the Selected knew, Lila Sethi was dead, so that was what everyone else assumed. I made my way to my apartment before they could clear it out and broke in to gather a few personal affects, and that was the last of Lila Sethi. It was easy enough to start again. Sure, there were a few rough months while I scraped some money together, but I know how to get by on the streets. I stole, I begged, I did chores, I even turned a few tricks. And eventually, I found myself working retail in New York for a little over minimum wage. I never seriously considered going back to Rourke International. Now that Aleister and Estela were in charge, I doubt I would have been welcome.

I'm not sure what exactly possessed me to ever visit Mr. Rourke in the hospital. Maybe I just felt sorry for him. I know what it's like to lose everything. Once I believed he could give me back what I had lost. The man I found in that hospital was so different from the one I had known, that I only pitied him more. When I gave him the phone disguised the the hairbrush, one of the things I had managed to recover from my old life, I think I was hoping that having someone friendly to talk to would keep him from losing the last of his humanity. I didn't hear from him for years. Then Alodia came back.

I shouldn't have agreed to observe her. I mean, it was harmless enough at first, but then she discovered she was pregnant. I shouldn't have told him. But I didn't know how to hide it. I don't really know what he's planning. The revival of Project Janus, I guess. But exactly how he'll do that without the Island's Heart or the Endless...

… I think he means to use Alodia. But there isn't any proof that she has any power outside of the island, especially now that the time bubble has been destroyed.

Maybe that's the best I can hope for. That she doesn't have any power left and that Mr. Rourke will realize that before he hurts anyone.

No. Dammit, Lila, don't be stupid. You know that's not good enough. The best you can do now is to get out! Cut him off. Don't answer when he calls. He can't hurt you. He can't hurt you and he doesn't care. Just forget about him. Live your new life, free of his influence.

… My phone is ringing. I know who it will be before I even look at the screen.

“No,” I growl to myself, clapping my hands over my ears and screwing my eyes shut. “Don't answer him. You were free before. You died free! Stay free! This is your second chance!”

The ringing stops, and I open my eyes. My phone has gone dark. Then a missed call notification pops up on the screen. I hesitantly lower my hands from my ears. I realize that I'm trembling. My fingertip leaves streaks on the screen as I hastily delete the notification before I'm tempted to call back.

Block him, Lila. Just block him.

My screen lights up again, my phone trilling a ringtone. In my teenage years, I saw many people who were addicted to drugs. Heroin. Cocaine. Meth. Opiates. I watched their minds and bodies drive them mercilessly towards the next fix, sometimes driving them to death. Some addictions didn't reach the body. But an addiction in the mind could be just as deadly. Pot, pornography, gambling. At fourteen, I was the one to identify my foster-brother's body when his gambling debts landed him in hot water with the wrong people. It's his face in my mind when I tap the green button on my phone.

“...H-hello?”

“Lila, dear. Listen carefully. I have a job for you.”

Kenji

“A Halloween party?”

“Yeah! Seriously, what's with those faces? It's a great idea?”

Mid-morning on a Friday, Grayson and Tahira sit across from me in a booth at the Grand. It's the perfect time for a business meeting. Not even the cleaning staff are here at this hour. I just can't believe that they both look so skeptical.

“It's not that it isn't a great idea,” Tahira says quickly. “It's just...Halloween is a week away. And logistically, that's cutting it kinda close.”

“Hey, you can let me worry about the details. The Grand remains the biggest party scene in Bayside, and we're missing out on huge profits if we don't take advantage of such a big party night.”

“Halloween's on a Tuesday,” Grayson points out. “Most people will be working the next morning.”

“That doesn't stop most people,” I retort. “...But, I can see your point. Maybe we can run the specials all weekend. Half-price drinks, half-price admission for anyone in costume, that sort of thing. Maybe we can get a band or two to play for a few hours each night.”

Tahira nudges Grayson lightly. “...We both know the Hartfeld students like to drive up to Northbridge for Halloween weekend. It's a big money opportunity. And the whole reason for reopening the Grand was to revitalize Bayside. I don't think we can avoid to miss many opportunities.”

Grayson sighs. “...Is this really what you want to be worrying about right now, Tahira?” he asks softly. Tahira and I exchange a glance. Grayson has been welcomed into our confidence, and he fits in so easily that it's sometimes easy to forget that he hasn't lived with the whole double-life thing as long as Tahira and Eva and I have.

“Don't worry about me, Grayson. I've gotten good at balancing Tahira and Dragonness.”

“Right...of course.”

“Listen, Grayson. With everything you're going through, no one's going to expect you to make an appearance.”

“But maybe I should. To show them that I don't intend to let my Dad retake the company. That I don't intend to let him dictate my business decisions, and that I'm still committed to revitalizing Bayside, not bulldozing it.”

“Hey, that's the spirit!” I say encouragingly. “Hey, the way I figure it, with everything we've been through lately, we all deserve a few nights to cut loose. Especially you two.”

Craig

It's been way too long since Zahra and I really had some proper time alone together. And with both of us off for the day on Sunday, we spend Saturday evening plotting the perfect day in. The fact that Sunday is rainy and chilly just makes it better. We stay in bed having sex until at least noon. When we finally leave the bed, we take the blankets with us to curl up on the couch, drink coffee, and play classic video games while we wait for the pizza we ordered. For awhile, there is nothing else in the world but me and Zahra, cuddling under a worn-out comforter while our sprites whale on each other on the screen.

“Oh, you still comin' at me, Player Two? You're about two hits away from dead, you might as well just lie down and accept your fate!”

“Nuh-uh! Power up! Boom! Health bar restored, and now you're at half!”

“What?! Where the hell did you pick that up?!”

“Not my fault you were too distracted to notice when it fell from the sky!”

“Yeah, well screw you! I'm gonna beat you anyway!”

“Oh, yeah? How do you figure that?”

“'Cause I always do!”

And of course, thirty seconds later, she does, with a massive bolt of lightning. I groan, letting the controller fall into my lap.

“Daaaamn. Gorgeous woman who has sex with me and beats me at video games? I'm so in love with you, Zahra.”

She blushes, which makes me smirk. I always feel a little smug when I can get her to blush. Predictably, she covers it by swatting me.

“Shut up and kiss me already, loser.”

I do as she tells me, then pull back with a grin. “Okay, I'm bored with that game. Let's play Jump Bros Racing instead. Then at least I'll stand half a chance.”

By the time the pizza arrives, the combination of the gray day outside, the lamps inside, and an hour or so staring at the TV screen has my vision all wonky. I blink and rub my eyes, trying to force them to see colors properly again as I stumble to the door. I thank the delivery guy, push the tip into his hand, and go back to the couch, balancing two large pizza boxes on my hands. The smell of cheese, sausage, green peppers, mushrooms, and pepperoni reminds me that I haven't eaten all day. My stomach rumbles. Zahra, who picked up her phone while I was getting the pizza, snorts.

“Jesus, Craig. Your stomach growls louder than you fart.”

“But not louder than I burp,” I retort. She snickers and pushes on my head.

“Got a text from Kenji. They're planning a big Halloween weekend bash at the Grand, and he wants my band to play. He's offering $300 since it's short notice, and he'll throw in another $50 if we agree to do two nights.”

“Dope. You gonna do it?”

“Well, obviously, I'll have to talk to everyone, make sure they can all make it, but for that kinda money at the Grand, I think I'd be an idiot not to. ...Only problem is, we haven't really had a rehearsal since...well, since before the Catalyst reunion. Just with the way everything's been so crazy...”

“Yeah...it kinda has been. ...But hey, today is about forgetting all the crazy, right? Let's concentrate on eating this pizza. Then we can marathon Seven Crystals until our eyes bleed.”

“Oh, God, yes!” She tosses her phone aside and dives for the top pizza box, pulling out a hot, gooey slice. She sucks the point into her mouth and chomps down, tearing it off like a wild animal devouring its prey. I can't help grinning.

“Are you aware that you're the sexiest thing on two legs?”

She pokes one leg out from under the blanket and pulls up the leg of her pajama pants. “Two legs that I haven't shaved in two days?”

I pretend to examine the dark, stubbly hairs on her calf. Then I imitate her, poking my own leg out. “I haven't shaved my legs in two years!”

“You shaved your legs two years ago?”

“Uhh...no. I guess not. So, I haven't shaved my legs in...ever. But you can still be my leg-hair buddy, even if you're not as hairy as me.”

She laughs, putting her leg down and taking another bite of pizza. “Eat your pizza, scrublord. I need my Player Two if I'm gonna get through Seven Crystals.”

Estela

Until I'm back in it, I sometimes forget how much chilly air can feel like pain. These past months, I went right from San Trobida to La Huerta to Northbridge and southern California in high summer, and then back to San Trobida. It was still summer when I returned to Northbridge to help my brother investigate Silas Prescott and his machine. Now a true New England autumn has officially crowded out summer. That's the other thing I've learned to dislike about the transition from summer to winter in the northeastern United States. Unlike the change between the tropical and frigid zones on La Huerta, this one comes on gradually, and I end up feel like the proverbial frog in a pot, not recognizing the change until one day I walk outside and my extremities start going numb.

Even with a jacket, scarf, and gloves, I can still feel it nipping at me as I make my way down the sidewalk in the early afternoon sunshine. I wouldn't even be out in it, but I needed a change of scene. I head toward Michelle and Quinn's apartment. I know that Michelle and Sean will both be at work about now, but maybe Quinn has a little time to spare. I could use some company right now besides my mother.

Much to my relief, when I arrive at my destination and press the buzzer, Quinn's voice sounds on the intercom.

“Who is it?”

“Hey, Quinn. It's Estela. I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“Nothing that can't wait. Just a sec, I'll buzz you up.”

I hear the soft buzz and the click of the lock, and yank the door open. Blessed warmth wafts over me as I step inside the lobby. The feeling is returning to my digits by the time I reach Quinn's unit. She's waiting for me with the door propped open. The smell of cinnamon and cloves drifts into the hallway.

“Come on in. I was just making some cider. Want to try some? It's nice and warm, just off the stove.”

“Anything warm sounds heavenly right now,” I reply, slipping off my coat and hanging it in the closet. “Sorry to drop in unexpectedly. I hope I'm not intruding.”

“If you were, I wouldn't have let you in,” she replies, waving a hand dismissively. “Sit down. Take a load off.”

I obey, sitting down at the kitchen table. Murphy immediately jumps up into my lap, cooing. I rub his cool, silky ears around the bases, and he trills with pleasure. Quinn ladles cider into two mugs printed with brightly-colored cartoon characters, and joins me at the table, sitting across from me. I cup the mug between my hands, letting the heat of the cider penetrating the ceramic warm my hands.

“So what brings you my way?”

I sigh. “I needed a change of scene, I suppose. Some space to think in.”

“Perhaps you're also looking for someone to share your thoughts with, since you seem to have sought out company.”

I take a warm, sweet sip from my mug. “Perceptive, aren't you.”

She smiles a little. “I try. So what's on your mind?”

“...Mom is talking about going back to San Trobida. To spend time with my Tio.”

“...How is she going to explain her ressurection to your Tio?”

“She hasn't decided yet. She has promised to leave Alodia out of her explanation. I'm mostly trying to decide whether I want to go back with her.”

She raises an eyebrow. “That's in question?”

“Should it not be? The Catalysts are all here in the States...”

“We've mostly been in the States for the last five years, but you've never felt the need to leave San Trobida for more than a visit or business. Even if you've been forced to delay, as far as I knew, you never questioned eventually going back.”

I snort a little. “You make me sound like the slightly estranged or...independent sister. You know, the one who breezes in a few times a year to give presents and then disappears again.”

She chuckles. “You know I don't mean it like that. We're family, the eleven—the twelve—of us. But we're not in college anymore, not all living in one place. And that's okay. We have lives and families outside of each other, as we should. That's the whole reason Alodia gave herself up, was to give us that. San Trobida has always been your home. It's where your blood family is.”

“Except for my brother. And my nephew.”

“True. Still, it's where the family that raised you is.” She frowns slightly. “And I would have thought you would want to stay with your mother. And your boyfriend must be missing you.”

I am quiet for a long moment. I take another long swallow of cider, and place my mug back on the table.

“...I love my mother. I will always love her. But it's been eleven years. I'm not the same person I was when she died.”

“...Is she not able to accept that?”

“It isn't that exactly,” I reply. “She understands that time has passed and I've grown. The problem is that we don't relate to each other the way we used to. I've gotten so used to living without her, having her back is a shock, even taking out the shock that comes just from the fact that she's alive. She understands that. That is, she grasps the concept. But trying to work with that...figure out who we are to each other now... It's like...when your parents realized that you were really and truly cured. Remember how you were always saying that treating you like a sick person was a habit they had to break? Treating you like a sick person and arguing with each other about it?”

“Yeah. ...They were glad I was healthy, of course. But they'd spent so many years stressing about my health that they couldn't let go of it right away.”

“It's a little like that. ...Of course I want her in my life. But I have to figure out how that works with the person I am now. And I'm not sure living under the same roof is the way to figure that out. And as to my boyfriend...he isn't. Anymore.”

Quinn looks up sharply, startled. “What?! When did this happen?!”

“Right about the time we introduced you to Rochelle.”

“But...that was weeks ago. Why didn't you say anything?”

I shrug, keeping my eyes on my cider mug. “We had other things to concern ourselves with. Besides, I...needed time to process.”

“Are you...okay?”

I shrug. “Well, I'm hardly walking on air, but I'm not bitterly torn up, either. I suppose in the end, we simply didn't have enough in common to sustain the relationship. At first it was intense and passionate, but once that initial thrill wore off...” I sigh. “...Honestly, the fact that there's a large part of my life he'll never understand...that no lover could really understand...”

“No lover except another Catalyst, anyway,” she says softly.

“Right. ...I had hoped him being part of the resistance back in the day might have made that part easier to deal with. Maybe it would with the right person...”

“Sometimes it takes time to find that right person,” Quinn says softly. “Believe me, I know. But hey, that's true for everyone, not just Catalysts. We come with a little more baggage than most...but that would have been true even if we had never gone to that island.”

I smirk a little. “So, you're saying that I'm not so special?”

She laughs, and I know it's because she enjoys my teasing. It took me awhile to learn how to playfully rib my friends the way they had always done with me and each other. But I've gotten the hang of it for the most part.

“I'm saying you're normal, silly.” She reaches across the table and takes my hand. I raise my eyes to meet hers, dark brown on sapphire blue. “Let yourself feel bad as long as you need to. As long as you know underneath it all that it's not the end of the world.”

“Oh, I know that well enough,” I quip ruefully. “We've both lived through the end of the world.”

“Yeah, we have. And you're a strong, beautiful woman with everything going for her. You'll bounce back from this.”

I smile, squeezing her hand. “Thanks, Quinn. You're pretty good at pep talks.”

“Well, I try. Now, how about we get some cupcakes started while we try to talk through your other problem?”

Lila

All right, Lila. This is going to be easy. Just walk right in. If he's awake, hand him the note. If he isn't, just leave it under his hand and walk out.

I have my disguise, a nurse's scrubs and ID badge, bearing my picture, but the name of a nurse on staff here who happens to be off today. It should be easy. I shouldn't be hesitating so much. I never used to have trouble doing exactly what Mr. Rourke asked me to do. Well..hardly any trouble. I believed in him then. I believed in him, and I put aside any scruples because I believed he was doing good for the world. Saving every lost little girl like me. I don't believe in him anymore. So why can't I walk away from him?

The note in the pocket of my scrub pants isn't long, but it feels very heavy. Uncomfortably bulky. The edge of the folded paper pokes into my thigh. I've read it, with permission from Mr. Rouke: “An old friend sends his regards. If you are serious about your goal, you'll need more than the dragonness. We can help each other.”

It's signed with the sigil of the Hydra, and a weird symbol that Mr. Rourke says will alert him that there is more information written in disappearing ink, and that he will need to heat the paper. That will reveal Mr. Rourke's contact information, and possibly more.

It doesn't feel harmless. In fact, it feels like it could be very harmful. But I can't walk away. But I can't walk forward, either.

Do something, Lila! Choose something!

And before I quite realize what's happened, I'm at the door to Silas Prescott's hospital room, where police officers are standing guard. I flash my badge, and they read the name, checking it against the list. The nearest officer gives me a curt nod, and I slip inside.

Silas Prescott is asleep, his heart monitor showing his pulse in a steady blip. Before I can change my mind again, I slip the note out of my pocket and gently lift his hand to place it underneath. He doesn't even stir. He must be sedated.

I turn away from the bed, lingering in the room just long enough to give the impression that I did more than just slip a note under his hand. Then I leave. I have to get out of here. Get out of this place. Get away from Silas Prescott. Get away from Everett Rourke...

But it looks like my escape may be delayed. Because not three yards outside the room, with my eyes on the floor and my mind a million miles away, I run headlong into someone coming in the other direction. A white-coated doctor studying a clipboard. We both recover ourselves, straightening our clothes and mumbling apologies. Then, our eyes meet, and we both freeze.

...I have just run headlong into Michelle Nguyen.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Unreal - unforgiven series

Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, bits of Bruce and Barbara Summary: None of this was real, so he needed to focus on the only thing that was. A/N: Dick is obviously Nightwing and masked up throughout this, even in the apartment. The ‘demons in his ear’ is his communicator to Batman and the family. The driver never sees Dick, or hears Damian shout his name, so his identity is still safe. Sorry this is like 50 years late. A few days after Unacceptable. 

Unforgiven series.

~~

“…I think it’s time you and I talked.”

He kept that in his mind, that sentence. Kept repeating it. To himself, out loud. In any way he could.

Because he couldn’t. He couldn’t die until he talked to Tim. Until he saw his little brother again. He couldn’t let the fear toxin win until he at least begged for forgiveness in person.

And it shouldn’t have happened, this. He’d been vaccinated against every strand of toxin, serum and poison known to man. But Jonathan Crane was still smarter than them, objectively. Kept easily making more, differently, thanks to that degree of his. He was still a doctor, even if he was using it for evil.

But still – Dick was trained. Dick was used to this. Yes, he’d been hit. Yes, he was affected. But he was still lucid enough to be aware of what it was. Knew the hallucinations around him of blood and death and loneliness were fake.

He just had to keep Tim’s voice in his mind.

The gas still was doing its job though, and Dick fought against if with everything he had as he ran down the sidewalk. With every repetition of Tim’s decision, his voice was warped. Angry, sad, cold, distant. But Dick had to keep it real. He had to keep Tim’s voice as what it truly was on that phone call.

“…I think it’s time you and I talked.”

Tired, hesitant, warm. That’s what Tim’s voice was. Not angry. Not distant. Tim wasn’t giving up on him, toxin. He wasn’t. He was giving him a chance. A chance he didn’t deserve, but a chance. And he had to make it. So you can’t lie to him, toxin. He had to beat you and see his brother. And he would; there was nothing you could do about it.

He stumbled in his run, slammed into a brick wall. He looked up into the rain, but couldn’t see street signs. Just saw demons overhead, the same demons that were yelling in his ear, trying to talk over Tim.

But Dick smiled, because they couldn’t. His brother’s voice was louder. His chance at redemption was louder.

He looked back to the sidewalk. It was covered in blood and dead bodies. People he knew. Donna, Wally, Bruce, Clark, Roy, Dinah. But they weren’t real. Of course they weren’t. So he splashed through the blood. Kept on running.

Beside the thought of Tim’s voice, he realized he didn’t have a destination. Or, at least, his mind didn’t. His body seemed to know where it was going. And even if it didn’t, Dick was too weak to tell his body to stop. So he just let it go.

Because along with seeing Tim again – he still had to escape the bad guys. He’d almost forgotten about that part.

Still, as more time went on, his body started to wear down, and the pain of his muscles began to be louder than the shrieks and whines around him. Began to appear in his eyes, literally. Bubble letters in front of him appeared with every stomp of his foot. Ow! Pain! Hurt! Ouchie! Stop! You’re killing me! You’re killing yourself! Pain! Pain! PAIN!

“Tim…” He breathed out, and his lungs ached. But he couldn’t stop. He had to get there, even though he didn’t know where there was. He had to go. He had to escape. He: “…gotta talk to Tim…my…”

He stumbled again, tripped over a curb and went sprawling into the gutter. He heard the blood swish around him as his spine slammed against the pavement. Felt it hit him, but knew he was dry. Knew, if there was liquid, that it was the dirty rainwater of Gotham City.

His body still wanted to move. His mind was still supplying him with fake terror and images. His heart was in overdrive. He couldn’t breathe. The blood-water rain hitting his face was not cooling him. But he had to go. He had to-

“Grayson?”

The voice was like an angel, almost as sweet as Tim’s and that hope that he could still fix one of his greatest mistakes.

His head jerked to the side, face bouncing off the curb he’d tripped over, and it was like magic.

There was a bubble in front of him. A normal scene untouched by the demons and death and shrieks. There was no blood on the ground, or falling from the sky. It was just rain. Just water hitting an umbrella, and snapping off the side of an open car door.

And under the umbrella was his youngest brothers. Was Damian and Tim.

It was Damian who had spoken. Damian, who was stepping away from the car he was about to get into, out of the safety of the umbrella, and Tim’s arm.

Dick said his brother’s name. Or tried to. He felt his mouth move, but all he heard was a rasping gurgle, and suddenly Damian was running to him.

“Grayson,” Damian whispered, first jumping from the sidewalk to drop to his knees in the street. There was another splash, and this time Dick felt it. Felt the water – not blood, not blood, not blood – hit him on the chest. An arm wrapped around the back of his neck, and suddenly he was being held to a tiny chest. “Grayson, breathe. Please, breathe for me.”

Dick blinked, and looked up into the sky again as his body relaxed into the hold.

Oh. This is where he was going.

Tim and Damian’s apartment building.

“Grayson, what happened?” Damian hissed, brushing the water or blood or vomit – whatever – off his face. He felt Damian’s hand run down his body, and hit the injuries that were very much real. “Your eyes are dilated. Your heart rate is spiking…”

“Fear toxin.” Dick’s head spun around on instinct. Tim and his umbrella was standing over him. His hair was sticking to his face – he was holding the umbrella over him and Damian instead of himself. And the fear told him Tim would look furious. Be furious. Would hate him and leave him here to die, while dragging Damian away from him forever. But instead, Tim was still in that bubble of normal. Still Dick’s saving grace in this madness, along with Damian. His eyes were calculating and thoughtful. But most of all – they were worried. “It looks like he’s been hit with one hell of a dose, too.”

“Sirs!” Dick glanced past Tim’s bent body. A driver had appeared out of the car. And objectively, Dick knew it was just a man. But right now, he looked like a werewolf, with blood and bits of meat hanging from his teeth. “The gala is starting soon. The two of you cannot be late again-”

“We’re not going.” Tim said over his shoulders. “Send our regards.”

“What?” The driver spluttered. It came out as an inhuman growl, and his eyes glowed red. Dick felt himself give out another groan in panic. “B-but Mr. Drake, you said…what…what are you boys doing over there…?”

“I said we’re not going.” Tim stood and turned to face the driver. “Send my sincerest apologies to the board, but something’s come up.”

“But-”

“It’s a family matter.” Tim said simply. Dick heard Damian murmuring to him, but couldn’t make out the words. He did notice now, though, that Damian was dressed nicely. As was Tim. In their fanciest tuxedos. “Now, I apologize for dragging you out here on such a terrible night, but please go.”

There was a pause, and then a huff. Then the sound of a door slamming closed, followed by a car driving away.

Suddenly there was a hand on his face, gentle and warm. And Tim’s voice – his real voice – was right there.

“We need to get him inside.” Tim hummed softly. Instantly there was another arm around his neck, and one slipping under his knees. “I’ll carry him. You take the umbrella and get the doors.”

Damian’s presence disappeared, and Dick almost cried, because that probably meant Damian was being taken from him forever. But then there was a noise, and he was being lifted, slumping into Tim’s chest.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet, Dick.” Tim grunted as they started to move. “You’re dead weight enough. If you become actual dead weight, I don’t know how we’re going to get you upstairs safely.”

Dick felt himself let out a sob as he reached up and clung to Tim’s collar. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tim. I know I fucked up. I-I know…”

“Later.” Tim said softly. “Let’s just get your fixed up for now, okay Dick?”

Under the continuing wails and shouts that his mind was supplying, he heard the ding of an elevator, then the sound of their doors opening. He didn’t feel Tim step in, but he felt Damian gently grab his hand, and hold it as the lift moved upwards.

And even though he was trembling, from panic and fear and the rain, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, under the devils and demons. Because here he was, with Tim and Damian.

And that was all he wanted.

He closed his eyes, in what felt was a blink, but when he reopened them, they were no longer in the elevator. In fact, they were already back in the loft, and Tim was lowering him onto a bed.

“Go call Bruce.” Tim said to Damian. Damian nodded and sprinted away as Tim grabbed a first aid kit and sat on the edge of the bed, placing it on his lap and opening it. Dick opened his mouth, but Tim immediately waved him off. Smiled, as he hummed, “Later, Dick. When the drugs wear off.”

Dick allowed himself a small whimper before following Tim’s instructions. Settling back as Tim began to clean and stitch everything up.

It was only five, maybe ten, minutes later when Damian suddenly called from the kitchen.

“Drake!” Damian yelled. Dick thought he heard a roar from a wild animal after it, but squeezed his eyes shut against the idea. “We’ve got a problem!”

Tim smiled and rolled his eyes. “Be right back, Dick. Try to get some sleep in the meantime, okay?”

Dick didn’t respond. Kept his eyes closed, and took a deep breath, trying to drown out the toxin’s tricks. And he didn’t have to bring up a memory of Tim’s voice this time.

Because he could hear him talking in the kitchen…talking to Damian…Damian talking back…Damian’s dog barking…suddenly a crash…

Wait…

His brows furrowed and he tried to open his eyes, but it was already too late, and he was tumbling into darkness as he heard his brothers shout out.

~~

When he came to, he was already lurching upwards, like his body was completing an unfinished thought.

“Tim!” He screamed. Silence followed, and, as he jumped from the bed, it was an afterthought that the toxin appeared to have worn off. No more shrieks. No more wailing. No more demons and blood and death.

Or at least, no more hallucinations of it.

“Damian!” He continued, stumbling into the living room. He froze in the doorway, heart dropping at the scene.

It was ransacked. Everything was upturned or broken. T here were bullet holes and knife marks. The couch cushions were slashed. Damian’s tuxedo jacket was on the floor. Tim’s torn bowtie was on the kitchen island. Titus was curled up in the corner, covered with a blanket, bandages already across his legs and body, looking haunted.

There was blood on the floor. A large blotch of it. Batman was staring down at it.

“What happened?” Dick near begged. He couldn’t get closer. He couldn’t. “Whose…whose is that?”

Please be the bad guy’s. He prayed. Please be Crane’s, or one of his thug’s.

“Damian’s.” Oracle whispered from the communicator in his ear. Batman’s tightening fist confirmed her statement. “Security footage shows he took a few hits from a knife trying to block the hallway that led to you.” A pause. “…Tim’s is in the kitchen, and there’s a trail leading back to the window. He was shot in the leg.”

“…No.” Dick breathed.

“It was Crane.” Bruce said monotonously, knowing Dick already assumed that. “You weren’t able to get far enough away in your state, and they were able to follow you. Saw the boys bring you in. Came in through the window to get you. Tim and Damian tried to protect you, so Crane took them instead.”

“He took them?!” Dick demanded.

“Well, they’re not here. And there’s…there’s no bodies.” Bruce muttered, like just the idea of his sons being dead pained him. “So it’s the only theory we have.”

“Why?” Dick continued. “What would he gain?”

“Well, they helped you.” Barbara said thoughtfully. “And Scarecrow’s always looking for new test subjects. Not to mention, I think Crane ended up recognizing them as Bruce Wayne’s sons. Might get something he wants for their safe return.”

“No.” Dick hissed. “No, he won’t get shit but the worst ass kicking I can give.”

Bruce looked up now. Pitifully said, “Dick…”

“I know. I know, okay?” Dick snapped in frustration. In pure and blatant fear. “I know this is my fault. I know they were taken and hurt because of me, but I’m going to go after them right now, and I’m going to fix it.”

And he tried to make it look like he was kneeling, but really, he was collapsing. Falling beside that puddle of his littlest brother’s blood – spilled to protect him, even when he was estranged, because he’d hurt them already, before all this happened. Because he’d abandoned them.

Well, he wouldn’t abandon them now. At this point, forgiveness and amends were the last thing on his mind. The only thing on his mind was getting his brothers back, even if it was the last thing he ever did. Even if they still hated him afterwards.

He reached out, and pressed his fingers into the blood. The oversaturated carpet seeped, and red ran over his gloves. He let his mind wander back to his toxin-induced state, and the image of Tim and Damian under that umbrella, untouched by the darkness.

He curled his now-bloody hand into a fist and whispered angrily to himself: “I’m going to fix this.”

[brinroberts-blog]

please please please

who brinley and braxton what after days of avoiding, brinley finally breaks once again when late friday night, may 26th a/n originally intended for tomorrow night but we finished hella early so if it seems like its a weird time of day in one place its bc i am half asleep when i tried to edit it xoxo. also, incest. 

BRINLEY

It was all over the news, Camille’s face drowning in crocodile tears, the kind that made Brin roll her eyes.

“I watched her go.”

Brinley had known this, of course, and truthfully she should have gone to the cops with what she did know. How this wasn’t some random thing, that they’d been going to Junkie’s for months, Grayson never touching but almost.

But she had told her friends. Warned them, but no one wanted to believe her. No one trusted that Brin just might know what she was talking about. When you spent your life trying to numb everything, you weren’t taken very seriously.

She had thought about showing up on Phoenix’s doorstep with a box of wine coolers, a bottle of tequila and a baggie of Charlie’s best, despite having left her and Claudia only a couple hours ago. She had thought about going to Junkie’s herself to ‘celebrate’ the occasion. She’d thought about doing a lot of things, and instead she stayed where she was. Sitting on the living room couch, knees against her chest in her favorite pajama pants (a pair of Charlie’s, really, Braxton’s all returned to his room.) with a bottle of nail polish in her hands.

It had been a long time since she spent the night at home, alone.

Braxton was...somewhere, maybe screwing Charlie or Claudia since apparently he had the same taste as she did (irony that did not escape her), and her father was still missing, though Brin wasn’t too sad about that. He could stay that way forever, for all she cared.

(Except she did, care. Once upon a time, before puberty hit, before cheer and late nights out, her dad had been half her world. He’d been a good father, and then one day -

And how do you explain that when his relationship with her twin had never been that, not really. Braxton had been an accessory, a necessity. To keep one, you had to keep them both.)

So she flipped between channels, unable to sleep (and would she ever truly sleep normally again?), the late night news reporting on every channel with Stella’s latest instagram picture in the corner.

“Startling Family Secrets” read the tagline.

As if anything was startling anymore.

Braxton stumbled in as she was finishing her toenails, skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat from riding his bike and a surprised (but happy) look on his face to see her.

“Keys are on the counter,” she told him, blowing one last time at her toes and flicking the television off. “She’s low on gas, though, so you’ll have to fill her up before work.”

And with that, she left the room, not even waiting for whatever short answer he might have given in reply.

BRAXTON

When the news about Stella dropped, he felt like the only one really unaffected by it. Brin had been saying it for weeks and while no one else believed her, he hadn’t exactly ruled it out. Stella has run away, willingly, and that was the latest development. It felt like sure a non starter to him; maybe because he had his own shit to deal with. Too much shit, really.

Things with Charlie had settled down enough that Brax didn’t feel awkward around him. In a way, Brax was almost grateful for the fact he hadn’t been able to dwell on it. It made it a lot easier to talk to him about it once it was brought up. Because he hadn’t spent hours running it through his head, making it bigger than it was. He could just let it be… whatever it was.

But there were still things unsettled and while everyone was looking to Stella and Camille, Brax just wanted to figure his own stuff out. And his stuff, as it almost always did, centered around Brinley. She wasn’t acting like herself, and hadn’t since they’d come home from her almost across the border run. She had visited him at the station when he’d been locked up, but she didn’t talk to him as much as he talked about him to everyone else. And when he came home, she hadn’t come to his room like she always did. He’d had to go to hers, in desperate need of some comfort and physical affection - she was his only family, after all. He noticed she’d cleaned, something she only did when stressed. Even her sheets were different. They didn’t quite smell like her yet.

She was gone when he woke up the next morning. He thought maybe to work, but no, she’d just gone off with Charlie. Then with Phoenix. And he meant it when he told her - told everyone - that he didn’t want to be alone in the house. Never alone with Jack and never in the position that it could happen. If Brinley wasn’t there, he didn’t want to be either. She should have understood that immediately, but she didn’t seem to get it. So he’d stayed at Oliver’s, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that something was still really wrong with Brinley.

When Brax went to visit her at work, she pretended to be too busy for him. “You’re sitting in a chair,” he’d tried to joke and she just insisted that she had to make sure no one drowned. Which, yeah, very admirable but all he’d said was “hi” and “do you want a snack?”

And he couldn’t work it out in his head. He thought maybe she was somehow mad at him for how things had happened between him and Jack. Or she was regretting ever coming back with him. Or… that moment… the one he still wasn’t sure he’d processed..

So when nothing had really been figured out, he took his bike and rode around town, as fast and as far as he could. There was something about the way his muscles burned when he pushed the pedals, how the wind rushed by him because he allowed it to, and how he could build enough speed to outrun his thoughts that always made him feel better. It was like if he went fast enough, he could become a new person just by force alone.

But that feeling, that easy elation, faded as soon as he got back to the house and before he could even say “hi” Brinley had bounced off the couch and left the living room, a flippant reminder about gas in the car he didn’t even want to take.

“No, wait, hold on,” he said, trying to catch up as she went up the stairs but she’d gotten too much of a head start and he’d stumbled halfway up, hitting his knee. But still, he caught up to her just before she could open the door to her room, his hand wrapping around the knob as he wedged himself between her and the entrance.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“What are you doing?” he echoed, standing in front of her room and forcing her to look at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

BRINLEY

“What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong with you’?”

It came out harsher than she’d intended, the words echoing around in her brain as he stared at her. Confused, definitely, but not understandably. It was like the other day hadn’t even happened for him. And maybe it was better that way, if he just pushed it aside, forgot all about it.

Brin wished she could have.

Instead it was at the forefront of her mind, the first thing she thought of when she woke up (alone, or with Phoenix, or with someone who just wasn’t Braxton) and the last thing she fell asleep agonizing over.

She’d kissed her brother. And he hadn’t kissed her back. What was wrong with her?

“You’re avoiding me,” Brax tried to argue, even as Brin pushed past him, rummaging around through her closet like she was actually going to go anywhere. (She wasn’t, but it was late on a Friday night and how was he supposed to know that?) “Did I - is it because of Jack?”

She dropped the shoes she’d been holding, spinning around on her heel in surprise. “About dad?” she questioned, not missing the slight flinch he made. (She wanted to write him off just as quickly as Brax had, tell him to go fuck himself and leave right that minute. But she only had one parent, and even if he was a shitty one, did she really want none?) “No, I’m pissed at him. Who do you think bought my new sneakers?”

Her grin came out as more of a grimace, but she put them away nonetheless with the rest of her cheer practice stuff, a little section organized in her closet in a way that it hadn’t been….ever. Jack barely kept the house clean, used to hire a maid service once a month to tidy up after them, no one had taught her how to pick up after herself. It took extraordinary stress to make her organize. Stress she’d only been through a handful of times before. And never quite so severe.

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” he asked, his voice quiet and sad and Brin could feel her heart breaking, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she refused to look at him. It wasn’t fair, it just fucking wasn’t. Her heart was already breaking in a thousand pieces, why should she have to pretend it wasn’t so he’d be okay?

“I’ve been busy,” she replied flippantly, hoping to evade the subject as long as possible. “Figured you were busy with Charlie or Claudia. Your new beaus.”

The words were snide, just a twinge of jealousy and anger lying beneath them. She hadn’t meant to let it slip out but….there it was. And chances were, Braxton still wouldn’t even notice.

BRAXTON

“You keep saying that,” he said, shaking his head, still trying to get her attention. She was moving around her room like she had a reason to be but it was too stiff to actually mean anything. When Brinley moved, she moved with chaotic freedom, a flow to her that didn’t seem to be going anywhere until you got there and realized how exciting the whole thing had been. But this stiff, organized, methodical thing she was going just wasn’t her.

“You keep saying that,” he tried again, pressing his back against her door so that even if she rushed him, she couldn’t leave without talking to him. “But like, they’ve always been friends. You, you’re my best friend and you’re not talking to me.”

“I don’t have anything to talk to about,” she muttered. And he wasn’t sure what was worse: the fact that she was lying to him or the fact that maybe, after the drama passed, she didn’t see the need to bother herself with it.

“And what if I had something to talk to you about?” he asked, his voice quieter than he wanted it to be. “Because come on, Brin. This has been the worst fucking week of my life and I don’t know, I just thought you’d like… care about that. A little bit.”

She signed then, a softer voice than his before she turned around, just barely looking at him. “Of course I fucking care, Brax. I just don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, taking a few steps towards her until he realized she’d stepped back. Away from him. Actually, physically away from him, like being close wasn’t something she could do anymore.

“Seriously?” he breathed, his teeth on edge.

“What?”

“You like backed up just now!”

“I so didn’t.”

“You did!” he said, taking one step and sure enough, just like before, she backed up. Just this time, she seemed to notice it, her eyes going a little wide with panic before she turned around and started fiddling with something on the table by her bed.

“Brin, please,” he begged. “Just… whatever it is, just tell me. Okay? I don’t know what I did and I don’t know why you’re mad at me or you’re - whatever at me. But you have to tell me because I’m really lost here.”

He was standing right behind her when she turned around and he didn’t think she realized it until she was looking directly at him, actually looking him in the eye. And he could see then how mixed with fear they were, how she was trying to hold it back, but he knew her better than he knew himself. He knew what she looked like when she was afraid. He knew because he spent most of his nights looking in those eyes while their dad stomped around downstairs. Or when his gaze lasted just a little too long or his attempts at paternal affection made Brinley shiver even under the two comforters she and Brax shared.

“What are you scared of?” he asked, reaching up and pressing his thumb against her chin to make sure she kept looking at him. He was blunt. The only way Brinley couldn’t ignore him.

BRINLEY

She swallowed thickly, but he held her still and she couldn’t even try and look away. Sure, if she had demanded it, he would have let her. He’d never lay a hand she didn’t ask for on her. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She wanted more than what he could offer. Brinley Roberts, the heartbreaker, having her own heart broken by her very own twin.

“I’m not,” she told him, and he scoffed but let his hand drop. Only to her shoulders, fingers warm against her bare skin beneath her tank top, her own arms wrapping around her stomach. Scared. It was ludicrous, really, because she’d never been afraid of Braxton. Not physically, not mentally, but now…

Was it possible she was? A little? She’d been avoiding him for days, really, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was because she was hurt, and upset, and she’d be the first to admit that rejection was not something she often received. Maybe that was what was happening. Maybe she reacted to emotional pain the same way she did fear.

“I’m not,” she said again, more forcefully. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then tell me,” he pleaded, his entire face open and vulnerable and how, how, how did he always get to be the good one, the innocent one, while she was just the bitch?

“Tell you what, Braxton,” she snapped, finally getting angry about it. It was past due, she was sure, but she stepped out of his grasp, her arms crossing her chest as she stared him down. “You should know what’s wrong with me, you better than anyone. But you don’t. Because you don’t even care that I put myself out there for you, that I put myself on the line. And then you rejected me, Brax. And I get it, I really, truly do, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be all sunshine and daisies right away!”

Her voice had escalated, higher and higher and she knew - she could see it, plain as day - that this had somehow taken him by surprise. Like she could have possibly cared about anything else this deeply for this long. As if any other potential situation in the entire world would have cut her so deep.

“I’m sorry that dad arrested you,” she tried to say evenly, “but you don’t even know what happened when you left. And I know it wasn’t your choice, but fuck, Braxton, I had to spend an entire night alone in this house with him with your dresser against the door because I didn’t know what else to do! And I can’t sleep next to you anymore because it doesn’t make me feel like it did! Because now all I can think about is how you’re shoving your tongue down Charlie’s throat or how Claudia wants to fuck you now and why the hell shouldn’t you? Because your sister is crazy? Because I’m jealous? So I need some fucking space, okay, but you keep pushing and pushing and pushing and you - “

She let out a frustrated half-scream, storming around the room and sitting on her bed just to be as far away from his as possible. Just for the space she had been asking for for days upon days now. So she could figure herself out, figure out what had gone so intrinsically wrong in her wiring that this was her life.

And she didn’t care if he left or stayed. She was just exhausted and every day seemed to drain her more and more.

She wondered why she’d even come back to Ashbourne at all. Why she hadn’t left, alone, when she could have.

BRAXTON

Well, he’d asked for it. And there it was, all spilling out of her in a way that made him feel so fucking guilty for not getting it. But he’d been so shocked, so unprepared when she kissed him that he hadn’t even been able to focus on what was happening, much less what it might mean. Or even mean to her. And with everything that happened immediately after, he’d been so…

Exhausted. So fucking drained that he’d gone numb. Feelings weren’t a real thing because he couldn’t feel them. Nothing happening was real, much less the fact that his sister had made a move on him. Like, it barely even registered in the grand scheme of fucked up things happening in his fucked up life.

His mistake had been not seeing how much it registered to her, how much it mattered to her. Because now all her comments about Charlie - who must have told her that they’d kissed - and this thing about Claudia - who wanted to fuck him? What? - and how he didn’t need her or want her, that somehow she’d believed he’d pick anyone else in the world over her-

It hit him. Like nothing else in his life, not even Jack Robert’s fist against his head. Hard and fast, like whatever block had been inside of him that kept all of this at bay finally broke. It broke because Brinley broke. Because she screamed and yelled and she was hurt and she felt like something was wrong with her and that meant something was wrong with them and he couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t deal with that. Nothing in his world had to make sense but she did. Brinley had to be Brinley and he had to be Braxton and together they had to be what they’d always been.

She was on the opposite side of the bed, her back to him but he lunged forward anyway, his knee sinking into the middle of the mattress until she tilted backwards, losing her balance because of his sudden move. She swirled around, already ready to yell at him again. But her face was in his hands, fingers tangled in her hair and caught on the shell of her ear.

And this time, he kissed her. Frantic, and hard and it might have felt like he had something to prove but really… yeah, he did. Because she didn’t get it either. He hadn’t rejected her. He knew how to reject someone. He’d just been so tired and surprised and maybe he was the one who’d been scared. Maybe he was the one who was really afraid to show any kind of real emotion. But he’d never had to be that way with her. Until that moment. Until it all crashed and forgot to make sense for a second.

But he kissed her. He did it this time. And when he pulled away, she looked dazed. But she looked at him still.

“You,” he said as sternly as he could, as serious and insistent, “are the most important thing in this world, okay? I would never let anything happen to you. I love you. I kissed Charlie once. I’ve done nothing with Claudia. You aren’t… crazy. You’re just miles ahead.”

She didn’t say anything but he still held onto her, stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb as he settled a bit more gently into the middle of her bed. He had no idea what he’d just done. What it might mean. But maybe… maybe she’d get him now too. Now that he got her. Now that he thought he did.

“I’ll give you space, okay?” he whispered, still touching her. “But don’t ever think I’d trade anyone for you. You, Brinley, are the only family I have. Whatever that has to mean, maybe it’s different now. Or maybe it’s always been different. But nothing you do or say or think or feel or anything will ever, ever make me go away. Ever.”

[calmdentistrygrayson]

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