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The man at the counter had been watching him carefully from the second he'd limped into the convenience store. By the time he got to the counter and slapped down the stuff he needed, the man had gotten comfortable enough with him being in the store to just stare at the pile of first aid equipment and then give him a funny look.
Dick didn't blame the guy. He doubted the man had come into work today expecting a bloody vigilante to show up at two in the morning to buy supplies to patch himself up. To be fair, Dick hadn't intended to be in this situation either when he got out today. He wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place if he'd remembered to stock up on his first aid kit.
No one to do it for you anymore, remember Dick? This is what you signed up for when you left.
I didn't leave, he reminded the voice in his mind. I didn't have a choice.
"That'll be $10.47," the man said.
Dick slapped down a twenty. "Keep the change," he muttered as he gathered up the supplies.
"You uh, you can use the bathroom in the back corner if you need to."
Dick considered the offer, but decided against it. The adrenaline had drained from his body by now, leaving him exhausted. Pain was the only thing stopping him from passing out on the spot, but his body sure was trying. There was a real risk that if he sat down, even just to bandage his injuries, that he may fall asleep and he'd rather do that in the safety of his own home.
"Thanks, but I'll pass today. Have a nice night."
As he stepped out, he only just caught the cashier say "You too," before the door closed and cut off any warmth that had spilled out from inside. The cold and dark of Bludhaven's night swallowed him up as he took to the rooftops.
It wasn't far to his apartment, but it felt like forever. It would have gone by faster with Oracle's voice in his ear, or Robin or even Batman flying beside him, but that wasn't an option anymore. Oracle hadn't talked to him in weeks, Robin… Robin was gone, and even the mention of Batman nowadays filled him with so many conflicting emotions that it was easier to just avoid each other altogether.
The night had never felt this cold.
He finally made it to his neighbourhood. In reality, it could only have taken ten minutes, but between the ache in every joint in his body, the sharp stabbing pain in his side and leg from knife wounds - with more injuries from previous nights - and the sheer exhaustion that came with the combination of a terrible sleep schedule - no sleep at all for three days straight - and depression stemming from loneliness, the ten minutes took ten hours.
It took a few tries to open his window. For one, he could only use one hand since the other was busy holding the bag of medical supplies and for another, his vision had started blurring. He reached out to grab the bottom of the window to pull it up, only to jam his fingers into the wall instead the first time. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision and reached out again.
Eventually, he managed to get through the window, almost falling flat on his face inside before his acrobat instincts kicked in. He could physically feel his body shutting down, but he ignored it, pushing it away just long enough to patch himself up so this wouldn't be the last time he ever closed his eyes.
Would that be so bad though? It's not like anyone would notice…
A cold draft from the still-open window pushed against him, ripping the roll of bandages out of his hands onto the floor.
"Shit."
He stumbled to grab it, but he ended up dropping the gauze and box of bandaids too, another gust of wind blowing the bandages even further.
The urge to cry suddenly hit him.
It was stupid, and childish, but he was in pain and tired and nothing was going well for him and he didn't even have anyone to help him. No one cared enough to ask about him, to even remember he existed, and he just lost a brother and was kicked out of one of the only true homes he'd known and was struggling trying to be independent which he'd thought he'd wanted for so long but now that he had it…
A teardrop landed on the ground in front of him and he stared at it.
What was he doing? He was a grown adult. He lived on his own. He was better than this.
"You're a grownup. Why do you still eat cereal for like, every meal?" "You can do whatever you want, you're an adult!" "You have your own apartment! You have a motorcycle and you fight crime every night in your own city. What are you complaining about? You don't have to worry about math tests or anything! Speaking of… I gotta go study for mine, whoops."
As far as not crying goes, his mind was not being helpful. But he won't focus on that bit. Jason had been right when he'd said all of those things - he was a person in his own right now. He had to get his act together.
He shut the window first. Then picked up the bandaids, then the gauze and walked over to where the rolls of bandages had gone.
He paused. Rolls? Plural? He'd only bought one.
He blinked and the second roll disappeared.
That's not good…
He wasted no time in picking up the bandages and moving to the bathroom. It would be ideal to clean himself up before he fell asleep, and judging by the double vision, that wasn't going to be too far away.
It was a bit of a struggle to unzip his suit but he managed, trying not to think about how Alfred had made the adjustment to his suit sometime so it could be taken off independently. Looking in the mirror to see his injury better, he jumped when he saw another person in the room with him. Whipping his head around, he only succeeded in making the world around him spin.
Double vision, right. It wasn't Bruce. He doesn't care enough to ever show up.
Dick wasn't even sure Bruce knew where he lived. He hadn't hid it from his - father? Mentor? Former something? - exactly, but he wasn't sure that Bruce had made the effort to find out his address. He didn't know how to feel either way, whether he wanted Batman to know or not.
Priorities, Grayson, he chided himself, because there was no one else to do it for him. No more "Master Bruce, I do advise you tend to more pressing matters first such as your injuries".
He started to clean up the wound in his side. It didn't seem to be as bad as it looked, but he wanted to be done already so he could crawl into his covers. For a second, he brightened at the thought of pulling on his warm pjs and snuggling under the warm blankets until he deflated, remembering that nothing was warm anymore. Alfred had been the one to do that, toss them in the dryer to warm them up for him after a cold, wet patrol.
Alfred wasn't here anymore.
He went back to bandaging his side.
The silence in the apartment was oppressive. As Robin, he'd always been the one to make conversation, never really comfortable with Batman's silence. It was a strategic move as much as it had been comforting. In the circus, it had rarely ever been silent, even the quiet moments still full of so much joyous energy. It was silent now.
"Ooh, that looks bad. See, I'd offer to help, Rob, but you can probably do a better job than me even on yourself. I'll stay here though and keep you company. Want a snack? I think food is supposed to help with blood loss… No? Well it has chocolate in it, who doesn't like chocolate?"
There were two needles in his two hands as he stitched up a particularly nasty cut on his calf. He managed to blink the second one away, but it took a few tries. He didn't know if this time it was tiredness or tears making everything double.
By the time he finished, he didn't know what time it was. All he knew was the bathroom was too cold and empty and all he wanted to do - all he had energy left for - was climb into bed and hide in the covers. He didn't think about all the people over the years who had tucked him in or about how they weren't here now. He didn't think about all the people he'd shared a room with before, living quarters or friend's bedroom for a sleepover. He didn't think about how no one would be there in the morning to greet him with a smile and a warm breakfast.
He just stumbled half-asleep, half-dead on the short journey from his bathroom to his room and collapsed on the cold blankets, alone.