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Dick Grayson didn’t drink. That was a fact, a fact that was so set in stone it was almost a statement. Like the sky was blue, or the grass was green, or Tim was chronically sleep-deprived.
Water was wet, and Dick Grayson didn’t drink.
It’s not that Dick disliked the taste of alcohol or didn’t have a glass of wine every once in a while. But he never drank; he would never allow himself to feel so unbalanced. And frankly he had seen enough during his ‘night job’ to know it did more harm than good.
Tonight however, as Dick uncapped a previously untouched bottle of scotch Bruce had gotten him for his birthday several years ago, he decided that right now all he wanted to be was stupid drunk. Tossing the cap carelessly to the side and without bothering to turn on a light he brought the bottle with him into the living room. Sitting heavily on the couch he took a large swig. The scotch was good (expensive) and so the liquid ran down his throat without a sting, and a warm feeling began to settle in his stomach. Taking a few more gulps he placed the bottle on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch closing his eyes.
He was being stupid, he had been irresponsible volatile even. But when he had heard that woman crying he lost it. His hands tightened into fists as the memory of his earlier patrol crashed over him.
It had been a nice night or at least nice for Bludhaven in the middle of October. The cool crisp air soothed the sweat he had worked up from swinging throughout the city and the streets were mostly quiet. It had been ages since Nightwing had been able to patrol his city. Ever since Bruce had returned from the time stream nearly two months ago Dick spent most of his free time in Gotham. Attempting to ease the transition of Bruce back into the cowl and Damian into his care. Dick loved his little brother, more than he could possibly say, but it was nice to have a moment to himself as Nightwing.
He had just dropped off a few muggers at the police precinct when a noise coming from an alleyway caught his attention. Pulling out his grapple gun he lightly jumped off the roof he had been stationed on and swung to the mouth of the alley. Freezing at the sight before him.
There was a man who looked to be in his late 40’s a charcoal gray business suit tailored to his form. His short graying hair was slicked back whether from his sweat or gel Nightwing couldn’t tell. His body was folded around a small woman whose head lolled lazily against the brick wall behind her. Her hands were clutching the man’s forearms, if she had any strength she would be pushing him away. Her chest moved with heavy breaths and air panted quietly from her open mouth. The street light shone bright enough for Nightwing to see that her pupils were blown and her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.
“Everything’s alright baby, It’s all okay.” he began kissing the side of her neck and the woman made a distressed whimper at the motion. “Hush, quiet you’ll enjoy this I promise.” The woman pushed gently at the man, her eyes looking wildly around.
“N-no, please stop.” The sound was quiet and the man ignored her as he moved from her neck to her chest. “P-please, please s-stop.”
“You know you want this sweetheart.” His hand which had previously been clasped around her wrist moved down over her breast. The woman’s breathing came out quicker. “Don’t... touch me.”
“ Don’t. Touch me, I’m... ”
“Everything’s alright baby. It’s all okay.”
“Poisonous….Numb..I killed him, we killed....”
“Tsk Tsk Tsk Tsk… I killed him. Now hush.”
“No, you’re my responsibility. It’s my fault. My fault .”
“Quiet, Mi Amor Callado…”
“No..Please.”
“Hush”
“ Stop. ”
A red haze settled over Nightwing as he lunged at the man crashing with him into the ground. The man blinked up surprised at the sudden change and opened his mouth but before he could say anything Nightwing punched him across the jaw. Raring his arm back he delivered another punch this time to the man's nose and felt faint satisfaction when he heard a quiet crack. Blood came up each time he raised his fist and splattered softly onto the ground as he hammered it back down. The man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he passed out. But Nightwing continued to lash.
“Help.” The woman’s voice, though soft, slashed through his focus like a blade and blinking he looked up. The woman was looking at him, tears filling her eyes as she pulled her arms around her middle. “I-I can’t get up. I think h-he gave m-me something.” Quickly Nightwing moved over to the woman and checked her pulse noticing his hands shaking as he did so.
“I think so too. How do you feel?” His voice came out raspy and he subtly cleared his throat as the woman tried to answer. Pressing a small button on his utility belt he sent an alert to Oracle to send an EMT to his location.
“H-hazy.”
“Okay, that’s okay. An ambulance will be here soon and I’ll stay with you until they get here.”
Dick took another sip of his scotch, hands wound tightly around the bottle as the man's bloodied face filled his mind. Getting up he began to pace the room and took another large gulp. The bottle slushed with his movements, now only half full. He could feel the heat of the alcohol flow through his chest and the world tilted just slightly enough for Dick to know that he was no longer sober. He closed his eyes once more but instead of the man a woman’s face flashed before him. Brown eyes peering through an orange mask a smirk permanently etched onto her face.
“Mi Amor.”
With a yell Dick threw the bottle against the wall and watched as it shattered on impact. Small shards flew through the air scratching his face as the liquid flowed to the ground.
“Well that was dramatic.” Spinning around Dick caught sight of Jason sitting halfway through his open window. Lit cigarette in hand and red helmet settled on his lap. The only light in the room came from the moonlight streaming behind him, leaving Dick in near darkness.
“What are you doing here.”
“You know I heard an interesting thing about Nightwing tonight. Seems he nearly put a guy in a coma. Pretty rare for Wingading to lose his cool like that.” He took another drag from his cigarette. Dick felt anger course through him for the second time that night and turning his back on Jason he stepped over the scotch pooling on the floor. Reaching under his kitchen sink he pulled out a cheap bottle of vodka that he used more for first aid then for drinking and opened the bottle. Quietly he heard Jason follow him into the room. “What, you don’t want to talk to me Dickiebird?”. He could hear Jason flip the kitchen light switch and soft yellow light filled the room. Keeping his back to his brother Dick took a drink from the new bottle.
“Get out.”
“Hell I’m not judging you, if anything I wanted to congratulate you for growing a pair.” A loud scratching noise filled the room as Jason pulled out a chair from his kitchen isle to sit.
“Get out.”
“Though Bats properly wouldn’t be too happy about the “excessive force” but that guy was a rapist so he fucking deserved-”
“Get the fuck out Jason!” Finally turning he glared at his brother whose face morphed from surprise to agitation.
“What the hell crawled up your ass and died?” Rolling his eyes Dick took another sip from the vodka bottle he was still holding. Waiting as Jason’s gaze scanned over it and came back to his face, they both stared at one another for a moment until Jason quirked an eyebrow. “You’re drunk.” Dick snorted.
“You’re a genius, now get out”
“You don’t drink.”
“Even the ‘golden boy’ can have a bad night Jay.” The name came out of his mouth with venom, a small part of his brain begging for a fight with his brother. “You don’t have a monopoly on trauma, all of us are fucked up. And I don’t feel like dealing with it or you right now. So Get Out.” Silence for a moment, Dick looked away waiting for his brother to leave so he could get back to hating himself in private.
“Are you okay.” The question was so genuine that it startled a laugh from Dick.
“What do you think?” A hand wrapped around his shoulder and suddenly all Dick could smell was gun powder. Flinching violently away he backed himself into the kitchen counter, his breaths coming out of him quickly. The anger morphing into panic, “D-don’t touch me”. Eyes flicking up he saw Jason standing before him hands outstretched in a placating manner. His face calm but eyes shining with concern.
“Okay, okay Dick I won’t touch you again. Okay?” Dick nodded, shallow breaths receding and embarrassment creeping up his face. Slowly Dick slid to the floor arms circling his knees and face burying into his chest.
“Sorry.” He could hear Jason move forward and crouch in front of him. Close enough that Dick could reach out for him, but far enough away so he didn’t feel crowded.
“Nothing to apologize for birdbrain.” Taking a heavy breath Dick blinked as tears began to fill his eyes. Grateful that Jason couldn’t see them he buried his head deeper into his arms.
“This is stupid.”
“No it’s not.”
“I’m being stupid.”
“No. You’re not.” Looking up Dick met Jason’s eyes and reached out his hand. In an instant Jason grabbed it and pulled him into his arms. “Listen, I don’t know exactly what's going on, and you don’t have to tell me anything. But It’s not like you to lose your cool on a patrol, if you need to talk about anything...” For a moment Dick considered it, considered telling him the truth about why he lost it when that man tried to attack that woman.
“Not right now. I..thank you, but it’s.. It’s, I can’t yet.”
“Okay.” Dick felt Jason carding his fingers through his hair and he leaned deeper into the touch. It was rare Jay was so unguarded and Dick was going to soak it up while he could.
“Could you stay for the night? It’s okay if not, I just.. I’d appreciate it.” Trying to ease the heavy atmosphere that settled around them Jay let out a loud exaggerated sigh. Playing it up so Dick knew he was joking.
“I suppose so, but don’t think this will be a normal occurrence. I can’t have people thinking I have a heart, it would totally ruin my image.” A small laugh fell out of Dicks mouth as he pulled away from his brother, using his arm to help him stand up.
“You can’t trick me Jay, I know you love me.” Jason smirked and stood up with him, leading him back to the living room towards the couch.
“Yeah, I suppose I do Dickie... Tell anyone and I’ll stab you with Demon Spawn's katana.”