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Rain spills over in the streets, gushing to the labyrinth of pipes below. The rain somehow brings out the worst of Bludhaven, and that is saying something. The stench permeates even more. People hustle fast, the water is spinning up off the streets. Everyone is drenched, miserable, and snappy.
Tiger never expected to be here. He didn’t necessarily hunt Dick, Ric, out. If anyone asked it was chance, chance he ended up in that one cab that looks like it’s drove to hell and back with the shaved head cab driver. He breathes in relief as the cab rattles around the corner to him.
He slips into the frayed seat. There he is, his arm is thrown over the back of the seat. Ric turns to greet him. It isn’t a blinding smile, and that is the first thing that feels so wrong. He can see the scar steepled across his head like a vein as he turns back around, that’s the next. “Hi,” he’s easy going, but all so thinly veiling the distrust, “What’s your name?”
“Tony,” the Tiger. There is a pause, a flutter or moment where he might just have- It then dissipates, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.
Ric turns back around, setting the meter, “Where are you going today?”
Tiger stalls, he didn’t plan this far, he spits out the first thought, “Melville Park.” It isn’t the most well thought out lie, torrential downpour isn’t a day to go to the park. It’s the furthest destination he could think of though. Ric raises his eye, but doesn’t say anything. He just clunks out into the stream of traffic. He doesn’t know why he came. Maybe he is here to marvel at who Dick would have been in another life.
He hates to admit it, but maybe he misses Grayson. Maybe for some reason he cares, maybe it’s because he can’t help but care for someone who always cares about everyone else. Now he is pushing away all those he cares about, pushing away his family. He remembers how much Grayson ached for his family. He clung to every transmission he could have with “Mr. Malone”. When he went to go see his family, he was so happy.
Now that he is there though, what is there to say? The windshield wipers are moving to and fro and he rather fixate on that. He drags his eyes away from staring to watch the light against bombastic blurry, rain smeared city passes by out the window. He’s hiding right now, from a lot of people, from his past. So now he is ran here, to a lost piece of his past. The silence is permeating, Ric tentatively tries to fill it, “So Tony, why are you visiting?” Always needing to fill void.
Why is he here? Grayson was a nuisance. Too much of a bleeding heart, maybe Ric was who he wanted him to be. Then why did it feel so wrong, the man who seems so self assured? Why does Tiger care? Maybe he is the one with a bleeding heart now.
Instead he latches on to something else, Tiger smirks, “How do you know I’m visiting?”
“It’s kind of obvious,” Tiger snorts. Despite his career of blending in, he still looks like a tourist. Ric has a sharp eagle eye. Tiger jolts forward from his thoughts, as Ric slams on to the breaks. “Fucking asshole! THIS ISN’T A TURN LANE! Oh I’m fucking going to-” He pulls in between two cars, weaving tightly, making through all the lanes of traffic. Horns blare in a symphony. Tiger grips onto his seatbelt, this is why he always drove. Ric turns back around, “Sorry, he says a little sheepishly.
Tiger pants, “It’s fine.” Just for a moment it all seemed to settle, he could see him shine through, but the anger and vitrol spilling out from him he has never seen that. It comes out like a cornered animal lashing. It’s not who he remembered, but maybe this was who he was always. Maybe he was just good at pretending. Maybe he was made to be a spy. Maybe he never knew Dick Grayson at all.
“So,” Ric continues conversationally, “why are you in Bludhaven?”
Jarred Tiger continues, “Oh just traveling for my job. I have some time and I figured I would explore the city a little bit,” embellishments come so easy to him, “One of the perks of my job, get to see the world.”
“What do you do?” He can’t just say outright he is a spy. It’s a conversation of lies anyway, both of them someone who they aren’t. Maybe that is all they need, but Tiger craves more.
“I work for the government,” it’s a bald-faced lie, but it’ll have to do, “it’s a lot buercracy and lying. I lie a lot.” He doesn’t know why he is saying this, he wishes he could keep his lips from slipping, blubbering away all the truth, “I imagine you have to do that too.”
Ric grimaces, wrinkling his forehead “Do I know you from somewhere?” he grips the wheel tighter to keep it from swaying. Tiger seizes, he hit a nerve.
They were never friends, “No,” that’s what spies do, they lie.
Ric frowns narrowing his eyes, “You just look really familiar.” Maybe there is a chance- of course there isn’t. Why is he here? Maybe Tiger doesn’t know him either. He never cared for Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson has always been a stranger he has just never been this broken. He’s shattered glass put back together but all wrong.
“I just have one of those faces, I blend in really well,” he keeps saying too much, he needs to shut up. Suspicion darkens on Ric’s face, his knuckles are pulled bright white around the steering wheel.
“Are you one of them?” Them, he never was, but he needs to stop lying to himself he does care about the man. He may not be them, but he is one of many. He went chasing after him, but he doesn’t need Dick Grayson back. Then again this isn’t working though whatever he had planned. He shouldn’t have gone meddling, he told everyone to leave him alone.
He dances carefully a pacing tiger, a fallen acrobat. Grayson is broken and confused, and he just wants to escape this pen he has put himself in, “I’m no one you care about.” He just wants him to remember.
There is a sudden pierce, they have needled to close to the sore, “No,” the car slams to a stop beside the curb, “who are you?” Sapphire blue eyes glower back, “Tell me the truth.”
Tiger is strung precariously, the limber creature at a halt, how does he tread forward. He paws slowly at an admission, “I never knew Dick Grayson,” that was the hundred percent honest truth.
Ric bites back, “I said to leave me alone, I don’t know who you guys are and I’m not him.” Why is his response to push everyone away when he is hurting? When he is confused? Why can’t he just let people help him like he helps everyone else? Tiger isn’t his family and he doesn’t think Ric owes them anything. He doesn’t care about them, he just wants-
Who was he looking for when he hailed the cab? “I didn’t know him either, I only knew Agent 27.” There is a jolt, and Ric grimaces clenching his forehead tight. His hands go to his head, and Tiger wants to reach out. He thinks better of it though.
He grits out, “Your name isn’t Tony.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
“Leave,” Ric’s voice leeches the warmth from the muggy cab. Tiger was selfish to come here. Ric clasps his head, “Please go.” Tiger doesn’t want to lead him back into a spiral.
The rain is pounding outside, worse than when he got in, and he’s still blocks away from the lousy park. Ric really shouldn’t be driving. He’s okay, he tries to tell himself as he peels away from him. Abandons him like everyone else. He doesn’t want him, they never had that kind of relationship.
He mourns him, the friend? He misses the stupid tunes and his empirical bleeding heart. He just wants his forgiveness, for everything he has done to him. It’s too late though, there is no one to forgive him. There is just a lost man trying to find his way weaving through a city in yellow taxi cab.
He opens the door, taking one last glance. The rain splashed against the oil stained brown interior of the door. Ric watches steadfastly from the front, not even catching a glimpse from the rearview mirror. Tiger pulls from his pocket a $20. At least some food for tonight.
He got to close and the spiral spit him out. So close to finding the center. And here he stands on the corner the cab pulling away, the red lights beaming in the rain. The water splashes up as other cars speed by. Dick Grayson, Agent 27, is lost.
There remains just a paper, a slip, a number slipped between the seats. To be found later. With a number. And a hope it won’t last forever.