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It had been another cold night, one so cold that it felt as if your bare fingers were sure to freeze. But you supposed that was to be expected in the middle of winter. Then again, being this high up probably didn’t help matters much either. The wind was free to blow as harshly as it desired when you stood atop a skyscraper whipping your hair in every direction, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. The chilled air scrapped against your cheeks, like claws tugging at your exposed skin and all you could think about was how the aching feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away.
A familiar bitterness threatened to cloud your heart, blacken it to the point that you wouldn’t even be able to recognize yourself anymore. Your pain and anger were slowly beginning to boil over, like a ticking time bomb ready to blow at any moment. The stinging in your chest was bound to become something more, something dangerous, flooding into your veins to urge you into action.
You could only imagine what you would do when that tight little band of control around your emotions snapped.
“Figured I would find you up here.” His voice was soft and mellow. Like he was trying to calm the storm before it could reach the surface.
Closing your eyes, a heavy sigh passed your lips.
You were so tired.
“Am I that predictable?” You asked, keeping your voice light and playful in a last-ditch effort to pretend that you were fine.
“Yeah,” Dick admitted, taking a few steps closer to you. “But you begin to anticipate people’s actions when you take the time to understand them.” He added simply, shifting behind you to place a hand on your shoulder.
A part of you felt the urge to lash out at him, to push him away and tell him that he didn’t understand anything about you, but that would be a bold-faced lie. He was always so intuitive, so good at times that it made your heart bleed, knowing that one day you would be the one to corrupt him with your hardened soul and toxic touch. But for now, you let him ground you, keeping you steady with nothing but the weight of his hand on your shoulder.
“I saw what you did to those men by the bank.” His touch fluttered down the length of your arm, his gloved fingers reaching for your own before they curled together and intertwined; it was his way of encouraging you to turn around, to open your eyes and face him head-on.
Despite the smoothness of his words, you could sense the worry beneath. His silent anxiety made you hesitate; it made your muscles tense before guilt inevitably fell into the pool of your ever-chaotic emotions.
Too bad that guilt hadn’t blossomed after beating a few bank robbers senseless.
“Yeah, I might have overdone it.” You deadpanned, speaking slowly as if the words were stuck to your lips. “Were they alright?” You added, acting as if you cared for Dick’s sake even though those men had deserved everything they received. The broken system only did so much to the criminals that prayed on innocents – you fucking knew that better than anyone.
“Honestly, no. They’ll live, but you roughed them up bad.” Dick pulled his hand from yours, urging you to pull your gaze away from the city below and confront him for the first time tonight.
The first thing you noticed was that he was wearing his Nightwing uniform, the familiar black and blue suit stood out against the white snow on the roof. There was a sizable tear on his left sleeve he hadn’t gotten to stitching up, a reminder of last night’s fiasco. But what stood out to you the most about his appearance was that his weapons were missing. Gone were the two familiar batons that he carried close.
It seemed he hadn’t been on patrol at all tonight. Dick Grayson was here for you.
The guilt within was beginning to fester.
You felt the sudden urge to apologize, to blurt out that you were sorry and that you would do better because he deserved much more. He deserved better than you, but instead, you blankly stared at him and marveled over the fact that such an incredible, compassionate man would even spare you a second glance let alone put up with the chaos you ensured.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Dick asked, the tenderness settling back into his tone as his lovely blue eyes scanned over you, peering into you in order to pull apart and figure out.
You knew better than to assume he was still talking about the low-life robbers you massacred.
“No,” You replied hastily, brushing him off before taking a step away from him to rest against the roof’s guard-rail. “No.” You added, smothering out the vulnerability in your voice as you moved to hide behind the mask you had built for yourself, shifting into the persona of the vigilante you pretended to be every night – a strong, powerful being who could handle anything, even her emotions. Because the last thing you wanted to do was to give Dick a glimpse of what was hidden under the depths. If he knew just how angry you really were or how you had been ready to bathe this city in blood in the name of that fury, he would surely be horrified.
He would see you as another monster.
“You don’t have to deal with this alone, you know.” He offered, taking a few strides closer to you so you could see the worry hidden behind his domino mask. “I know your upset.” Dick lifted a hand to brush his fingers against your cheek. “I-I know you are probably upset with me.” He murmured sadly, making your expression contort in confusion.
“What?” You asked dumbly, reaching for his hand. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Dick lowered his gaze, toying with your fingers. He had that sad, solum look he only got whenever he felt defeated or when he felt the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “I was the one that stopped you and convinced you to spare him. I was the one who took away your choice.” He said, gently squeezing your hand before those lovely blue eyes met your own, but all you could do was give him that same blank, dumbfounded look.
Was he serious? Surely he couldn’t believe that.
But when you searched his face again, combing over the expression he displayed so easily on his face, not hesitating to show you just how he felt; it was then you realized that yes, he was being entirely genuine.
When your lips parted to speak to say something, anything to ease his mind, all that escaped was a wounded and rather pathetic sounding whimper.
This man, your sweet, kind-hearted Dick Grayson was convinced that your actions, the violence you released on a group of idiotic bank robbers was somehow his doing. And somehow your rage and despair and anger stemmed from the night when you had nearly killed the bastard who had taken your brother from you. Did Dick really regret stopping you? Did he loathe himself for begging you not to pull the trigger, urging you that the people would give you the justice you craved?
He hadn’t been the one to take your choice. You chose to spare the fucking crime lord who murdered your brother because you didn’t want Dick to be terrified of you. That had been years ago, and you had eventually made peace with your vengeance, believing that perhaps you were too quick to judge the system. Maybe there was a possibility you could rest easy.
But then you saw tonight’s news and it felt as if you were right back to where you started.
A freak accident, one that involved a security guard shooting the fuck out of the man meant to die by your hands, whose blood was meant to coat your skin. The guard claimed self-defense. He said he only acted because he had to. It was a bullshit claim and you knew it because no one ever got real justice unless you took matters into your own hands.
The familiar fury that lingered under your skin was all too eager to resurface at the news, and Dick thought that was his fault?
“No,” You said after finally finding your voice. “You’re wrong. You – I…fuck.” Stumbling over your words, you opted to reach for Dick instead, tugging him in close to bring your lips to his.
His taste was always sweet, just like him, but now his kiss was hesitant, uncertain. Like he knew this was a problem that you couldn’t kiss away and disregard after a night together. But he still kissed you anyway, moving his lips against yours because he understood this was what you needed.
Why was he so goddamn good?
“I love you.” He murmured quietly when you parted. His words made you tense and kiss him harder, crawling onto his lap while his arms ensnared your body close. You wanted to tell him the same, longing to find the strength to whisper those words back, but such power never came because you were afraid. If you told him the truth, you would surely defile him and drag him down to your level, making him a monster just like you.
Instead, you began to tug off your outfit, pulling off the body armor and tight material that held you together. You gave yourself to him, hoping he would be able to see past your pain as he nipped at exposed skin and ground his hips against yours. You hoped he would never find out or see the real you.
But when his gaze met yours with such intensity and those blue eyes peered right into the depths of your soul, you knew it was already too late.