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igotanidea · 1 year

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Babysitting: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

A/N: there's an easter egg in this story. Let me know if you get it :D

(testing some fandoms vigilance here) :D

"Me and Kori got some business to take care of."

That freaking sentence!

Of course he and Kori had business to take care of together. Not that he was my boyfriend. not that I was the one who was always left behind with Rachel, Gar and now also Conner and Tim.

Jealous? Of course I wasn't jealous.

Not even a little. I loved those kids.

But who the hell was I in this relationship, a babysitter?!

***

Let me put it straight: I am not hero. I have zero fighting skills (maybe except my wit. quoting someone I knew: sarcasm is my only defense) and I could not hurt a fly, let alone another human. But. I am smart. I am intelligent and I was determined enough to do something more with my life and became a lawyer. Pretty unusual career for someone who was born and raised in Gotham (even If I moved out of this hell hole after graduation). And yet, I made it. Feeling like I was doing something right, standing up for people, defending them.

Well.

One day someone decided to put my thinking and beliefs to the test.

“Counsellor. You have a visitor.” Our new paralegal was kicking her heels nervously in front of my office.

“Ok, Amy, first of all calm down. That’s right. Deep breaths. Unless it’s Joker who came to visit me, I don’t see any reason for you to be so flustered. “ I raised an eyebrow at the girl, who all of a sudden turned red like a beetroot. “Amy?”

“I’m sorry, counsellor…..”

“How many times, do I have to tell you, you don’t need to use that title when we’re alone? You’re like what, five years younger than me?” I playfully shook my head at her

“Sorry, I …..”

“Never mind, we’ll talk about it later” a little pat on her shoulder was enough to bring her back to reality “Now. Who is there to see me?”

“Detective Dick Grayson. Bludhaven police.” Ok, now I understood why Amy was so nervous. This guy was really good looking and for a twenty-year-old that must have been a sight. I was far more reserved. In my years as a trainee solicitor I had my fair share of handsome lawyers, detectives and other officials. One way or another all of them were the same – pretty. Pretty conceited. So at this point, at the age of 25 I was not impressed solely by a lovely face.

“Well, morning detective. How can I be of help?” I reached my hand out and he shook it firmly.

“I need some information about an on-going case of yours.”

“All right. As soon as you prove to me you can get the access to the confidential records I can’t see any reason to deny it.” I shrugged and lead him into my office.

And that was how it started. One case somehow lead to another, and another and another. He might have thought he had me cornered, but I was a lawyer. My job was to see patterns and predict the outcomes of actions and behaviors. I had him figured sooner than he knew and before he realized I got him right when I wanted him when he confessed to switching out cases just to have a chance to work with me. And then, some well chosen words, two or three dates, some more or less heated kissed and we were a couple. Oh, how I loved this boy! Like crazy. And he was very eager to use that against me.

“Detective Grayson? How can I be of help to you today?” I asked with my most professional voice noticing him standing at the entrance to my office. “And how long have you been standing there?” I smirked at him.

“Long enough” he pouted “you are just glowing when you’re working you know that? You have that irresistible spark in your eyes….” he closed the door coming closer to me and crouching on the desk eyeing me carefully.

“I’m sorry, how exactly did you get here?” I tilted my head in confusion.

“You know, Amy has a soft spot for me.” He put on his most charming smile.

“Yeah I’m aware of that. Clear sign I need to hire better security.”

“Is that so?” he grabbed me so I had to raise from the chair and stand between his legs.

“I’m busy, Dick.” I objected pointing towards the pile of documents.

“Mhm. I bet you are” his hands was now on my waist, pulling me closer, his face inches away from mine ��I am too. Extremely busy….” He whispered and leaned in, closing the distance completely. I hated him. He had the audacity to show up in my office, uninvited, in the middle of the day, with all his charm and distract me from my duties. He was reckless, irresponsible and childish. And a hell of a good kisser. Just a touch of his lips on mine made me want more as I let him caress my face and my back. Only for a second though, as my rational thinking made me pull away and smirk at his disappointed expression.

“Oh, come on, Dickie. Don’t be a child….” I ruffled his hair and sat back down “Now, shoo. I really have a lot of work to do and if you want me back home tonight…..”

“Believe me, I have a whole plan for tonigh.” His eyes turned darker with lust as he said it.

“Can’t wait then. Hope you won’t disappoint me, detective.”

***

I came home late. Really late. Absolutely shagged, hoping my boyfriend would be there to ease my stress and anxiety with just his presence, but in fact I was about to be disappointed. The lights were off, the apartment cold and empty. No matter how sad it was for me I was a bit used to him working up late. He was a detective after all. Maybe he was at some undercover operation at the moment. Calling him was not an option since it may put him in danger, so trying to shake the emotions of the day by myself I just got ready to bed and before I realized I was dozing off.

I had no idea what hour it was, but at some point in the night I was woken by the squeak of the bed on the other side and a pair of arms sneaking around me. Dick was back safe.

“Hi.” I muttered, recognizing those hands and smell and shifting my position to get closer to him, resting my head on his chest.

“Hi baby” he whispered back, kissing my forehead and running a hand through my hair.

“Work?”

“You have no idea.” He sighed deeply and I caressed his side gently, trying to make him relax, but it didn’t bring the effect I wanted.

“Are you all right?” I was now totally awake, propping myself on the elbow to look straight into those beautiful blue eyes of his “are you hurt?” concern in my voice was so audible that a flash of pain crossed his face.

“I'm fine. I’m sorry I made you worried. And sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t ever be sorry. Honestly, I could never have a good sleep knowing you are out. Remind me why I agreed to have a detective boyfriend?“ I smirked but he was not in a mood for verbal teasing.

“I love you” he whispered closing his eyes, hiding everything there was inside, all the emotions kept under lock and key.

“Dick?” now I was serious too.

“Yes?” he opened them again and looked straight at me.

“You can tell me everything. There’s no need to hide. Whatever you did or whatever happened I have my ways to get you out of trouble.”

“I know. I know. I just love you so fucking much. I… I just need you next to me now, all right? Please?”

„That I can do” I laid back down, hugging him tightly, breathing him in, but at this very moment I knew something was off. We both held to each other, but it was more desperate than loving. More “I have a secret, I can’t tell you and it's killing me” than “I want to share my secret with you.”

***

I was spending another sleepless night alone just tossing and turning in the bed. Last three days was a disaster. At first glance nothing changed between me and Dick but under the surface …. Tormented by my own thoughts, I was truly thankful when my work phone broke the silence of the night.

“Y/L/N speaking” my voice was still hoarse, but it didn't stop me from using official tone.

“We need you here, counsellor. It’s an emergency and it requires your immediate attention.”

“On my way. Where exactly is here?”

***

Holy shit! The place was a disaster! Blood, massacred bodies, about ten injured people and two destroyed buildings. And one person accused of it all on the run.

“How could you let him escape!?” I was about to tear my hair out, but there was no time as I had to deal with the witnesses and potential accomplices taken to custody. Those who apparently were aware of their civil rights and refused to say anything without lawyer present. And Bludhaven police called me to be this lawyer. Fine, after all I had nothing else to do. “You know what, don’t answer that, just… do your freaking job and find the gangster boss who….”

Before I could even finish the sentence, said boss fell right in front of me.

“What the….?” I muttered looking up noticing the characteristic cape. The colors were a blur but everyone knew it was Robin. I sighed deeply and rubbed my forehead. Whoever was behind that mask I should have hated him, given how many laws he was breaking on a daily basis. The truth was, however, he was making my job slightly easier. And for that, ironically, I was thankful.

***

It took me another three days after which everything dawned on me. Dick was visiting my office every day, trying to get to know what I was working on and even when I refused to give away professional secrets, I knew he gathered some information. And then, miraculously, during night, all my perpetrators and criminals were brought to police station by no one other than Robin. Of course he himself never showed up. I would have to be blind, deaf and stupid not to see the connection.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked as soon as he stepped through my office again “and don’t give me that I don’t know what you’re talking about look. Let’s talk seriously, all right?”

“All right." he closed the door making sure it was shut tight and took a step towards me scratching his head "I’m sorry. I was worried that if you find out….”

“No.” I interrupted him.

“Sorry?” his surprised look made me use all the strength to hold back a laugh. He looked like a wigged kid.

“You don’t get to think so little of me. Did you really think I would leave? Or worse – was it the classic I was scared someone would hurt you bullshit? Dick, god damn it! I'm a lawyer. Do you have any idea how many times I got death threats? And here I am! Still alive and breathing! "

“I’m sorry.” He repeated.

“I’m also pretty case-hardened with keeping secrets, so I would never give yours away.”

“I know and….” He looked down, embarrassed and defeated under the weight of my arguments.

“I got a simple conclusion here: you are an idiot. Foolish, egoistic, inane….”

“Ok, that’s enough….” He stood up abruptly, making me shut up by kissing me, pulling me close so all my mind would get blurry and distracted by his toned chest, muscles and the way he was holding me, like his (or mine) life depended on it.

“Nice try, Grayson” I said pulling away too quickly for him to enjoy being in control of the situation.

“Please, don’t leave me. I can’t lose you.”

“You’re only proving my point here. I'm not going anywhere. But no more keeping me in the dark, all right? I told you once - I can keep you out of trouble, not the other way round. After all, you are a wanted vigilante.”

“Whatever you say” he pulled me in a kiss again and this time I let him. But still, he was about to apologize properly when we were alone.

***

From then on, everything went quick. Rachel, Gar, Kori. Titans. San Francisco. Gotham again (meeting Batman was a bit weird, but enjoyable experience), Dick dying and coming back to life (I almost killed him for that when he magically resurected). Conner, Tim. Wild ride. Wild. Oh, and somewhere in the meantime Dick ditched Robin in favor of Nightwing. Well, he looked hot in this black and blue outfit and I couldn't...... back to the point!

But I didn’t mind as long as Dick kept his promise of not keeping me away. At least for as long as in his own words it started to get really dangerous. When he reopened the Titans tower, training Gar, Rachel and Jason, I was there, watching over them, helping them crack cases and even joining on the field. I felt like a part of a team. But slowly, especially after Jason left (from the time perpective I think he was the only one to ever understood how it felt like to be cut off) my role was more like a caregiver. I was there to take care of the wounds, to throw a joke or defuse tension. Of course, I was still giving some advice, some tricks on how to play bad guys psychologically etc. but I knew I was being omitted. Dick was more distant, more tensed and more reserved than before, not that I blamed him. But I missed him. I accepted his vigilante lifestile, never complaining, but I wanted to feel like he still needed me to be his. His girlfriend, equal to him (but maybe smarter) and not someone to look after a bunch of kids (who I loved, but still).

Me and Kori has some business to take care of.

Right.

In a while he was always doing something with Kori. I liked her, truly, we were pretty good friends, but it was not right. I mean, I get that, she was a freaking fire princess, gifted with supernatural powers, all confident and fierce. All I had was logical thinking, connecting facts, fast reacting, resourcefullnes and imagination. It was more than enough to be a lawyer, but apparently not to be a part of the Titans team.

I wasn't jealous of Kori, really. I didn't envy her, I was just sad that all my good traits weren’t enough for Dick to consider me a valuable member of the team. Never letting me into real action anymore, never allowing me to train with the rest, even Tim, who wasn’t exactly skilled with his gear. Always working with Kori. And I knew confronting Dick about it would end up the same way as years ago. I can’t risk you getting hurt. I don’t want to see you in pain. I’m only focused on you when you are out in the open. Well, I understood his point of view, one way or another he was right, can’t deny that, but he could not possibly be there for me all the time. I had to be able to be more than just an easy to hurt one.

“You good?” oh, now he was realizing something was happening. Great job, Sherlock.

“No, I’m not” I always prided myself of being honest and direct in my communication with him. Boys can be so oblivious at times.

“Do we have to talk about it?” He looked at me carefully, his eyes begging me to postpone this conversation since he absolutely had to go investigate.

“Yes.” I nodded “Later. Now go.”

“Thank you.” He sighed and kissed my temple lovingly. I missed that.

“Go deal with that business of yours and come back to me. In one piece.”

“Promise.”

"Take care of him, ok?" I send Kori a sad look and she just nodded understanding everything he couldn't.

***

“Hey, brief, are you ok?” Conner used the nickname steming from the times I forgot knocking me out of my trance. Eventually, I ended up back at Star Labs with Conner and Tim, watching them fight against each other. Or rather Conner standing in place and taking poorly aimed Tim’s punches without flinching in the slightest.

“Take a guess.” I muttered “you should aim a bit lower, Tim”

“What?” the newly-appointed Robin looked at me confused.

“Lower” I emphasized “Conner may be superboy, but he’s still half human. And humans have weak points, so aim lower.”

Tim shrugged in a whatever manner, but stuck to my advice and to both, his and Conner’s surprise the latter hissed in pain.

“What the…..?” Superboy gasped turning his gaze on me. So did Tim and Bernard.

“Do you want to tell us something, Y/N?” the scientist asked “are you hiding some supertalents?”

“Just observational skills. Mixed with experience in medical records during my lawyer times.”

“That is interesting. You see anything else to use against Conner?”

“Wait. What? Use against me? I did not sign up for this!” Conner protested watching as my eyes twinkled in excitement. Now, I had my chance to prove to them I was more than met the eye.

***

“What is going on here?!”

“Oh, hey, Dick, your back. How was your business?” I brushed the sweat from my forehead and smiled at him. I couldn’t remember last time I was so happy and fulfilled. For the last two hours I was sparring with the boys under Bernard’s watchful gaze. It was exhilarating. “She’s the business I suppose.”

“Not voluntarily.” The pink-haired girl smirked “so you’re the girlfriend he was worried about on the way here?”

“I was not worried…..”

“I’m sorry about him. He can be …. Intense…” I cut Dick off. "I'm Y/n?"

“Tell me about it” she rolled her eyes “I’m Jinx.”

“The witch? Can you show me any spell to …..”

“All right. Y/n, I think we need to have that talk now.” my boyfriend, if that was still the case grabbed my hand and started dragging me away.

“It was nice to meet you, Jinx. I’ll catch you up later!” I managed to say in her direction before Dick picked me up and threw me over his shoulder still walking away. "Put me down, now!"

***

“What were you doing there?”

“It turns out, I'm pretty good at finding opponents weakness and turning it against them”

“Tim being the opponent?” Dick laughed

“Conner, in fact. And don;t be condescending.”

“What?!”

“Mhm. Did you know that he has a soft spot just right under his belly button? I might have bruised him with the impact I put there.”

“You did what?”

“Yeah. So many years of wasted potential." I blew a raspberry "And that’s because of someone who has been treating me like a babysitter for the past couple weeks.”

“You mean me? I never…..” I cleared my throat suggestively and it made him hesitate “ok, maybe I did. But you never said a word!”

“Because I knew it would lead to fighting with you. And despite everything I hate seeing you lose those arguments. Come on, you always surrender in verbal sparring.”

“Y/N….”

“It’s always you and Kori going everywhere together, dealing with stuff together, cracking cases together. I felt like I wasn't needed anymore. Apart from watching over kids.”

“Because they trust you. You are a role model for them.”

“One of the role models, Dick. Just one. And that’s nice. I just want you to realize I am so much more than just a bystander.”

“I don’t…..”

“Blah, blah, blah. I know all your arguments inside and out. Hurt, pain, loss… Please."I rolled my eyes at him "I’m good, all right? I want to learn to fight.”

“Are you jealous of Kori? There’s no need.”

“You idiot” I smacked his head. Lightly but he still hissed and looked at me with hurted expression. “You don’t get a word I'm saying! I am not jealous of her. I'm furious beacuse of you treating me different than anyone else!"

“Because you are the one I love!”

“I love you too." I said, more sofly, more gently and locked my hands on his neck, playing with the hair on his nape. That little gesture always made him relax and this time was no different as he hummed in pleasure "but I never told you to stop fighting, did I?"

"No...." he leaned into my touch so just to tease him I withdrew my hands. "Please, don't stop" soft, almost inaudible whisper got me melting "I missed that....."

"So, you agree with me that you've been pushing me away."

"I never said that and ....." I kissed him before he said anything else. Oh, the way it turned him on instantly.... Out of instinct his hands found their place on my waist holding onto me, caressing my skin, bringing me closer. Clearly he did miss me. I almost gave up, so lost in his touch, his warmth, wanting more and more and ......

"So, you agree with me....." I pulled away, not letting him get away with answer this easily.

"Yes, I fucking agree with everything you are saying." He rested his forehead on mine. "I'm sorry. I never meant to push you away. Never meant to make you feel like you didn't belong. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Hm, I know" I hummed "you would be absolutely lost. And probably dead. More than once."

"Mhm" he muttered. "Please I need you. You are like the only stable thing in my life...."

"I'm always here, Dick" I hugged him tighly, knowing well enough he was on the verge of breaking from the last weeks' stress and pressure and in desperate need of comfort and warm embrace "I'm always here. But I don't want to be a liability, ok? Or a housemother."

"Ok....." he held me tighter, not ready to let go.

"Let me train. I won't go against you, but please...." I kissed his temple, not to make him break, but just to assure him I was going to be fine. That we were going to be fine.

"Ok....." he chuntered "I'm tired....."

"I know, Dickie, I know. But you are not alone in this mess, babe. You are not alone."

Guess I was babysitting again. but this time, out of my own volition, and the fact that I had a choice in the matter made me feel good. After all, he was my baby.

@somest1

@pinksirensong

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sweetiebean00 · 22 days

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Hey Bartender

I love my angsty boys as much as the next guy, but I feel like it's Dick Grayson's time in the moonlight! Hope you enjoy!

Dick didn't tell anyone what he did when he wasn't patrolling, when he wasn't in uniform. When being Richard "Dick" Grayson got to be too much. His family didn't need to know, Bruce and Alfred had dealt with a literal demon. Not that anyone else knew it. He pretended far too well at that, he was used to it. To pretending. To playing up the smiles, and the bad jokes. The care that was real for his family, but none quite understood why Nightwing was feared in Bludhaven, in any of the cities they went to. Not that they noticed, not if Dick could help it.

Still, as he walked through the doors of the same old club that hadn't quite been shut down yet. No evidence of any illicit dealings, he did check before arriving. Especially in case he was recognized by being Bruce Wayne's adopted son, his ward. He's been coming to this place for months, wanting to be lost. To be forgotten. It was easy too, gave them his name, his last name as his first. He hated lying, it was part of the job but he hated it at times. Made it easy when everyone who saw him, who got used to the twenty something year old looking like a child soldier (because that's what he was) coming in and sitting at the counter.

Avoiding looking in the mirror behind the bar, the club danced and pulsed with light. With energy. Men and women, teenagers and adults, and everything in between was allowed in and they danced. Had fun in a safe space to forget. Those who didn't take no, received a shot in the head. At least that was the first thing Dick encountered. The girl behind the counter, her hair pinned up and eyes narrowed as she put the gun on the bar. The warning was silent to the man who had been reaching for an abandoned drink. Her threat was clear, and when the gun was fired off at someone who had been trying something fishy, a butcher's knife slammed into the counter. Inches from the hand trying to tamper with the drink inside.

She had looked to Dick, looked at him through the lenses of her glasses that hung on the end of her nose. She nodded once, as if understanding something Dick himself hadn't understood. Only poured him a baby shot, with a half-smile. A silent taunt, a test to see if he could handle the liquor properly and not like the morons about the club. After the next five, she had given him a proper glass, and three more in she looked at him. His hands clasped on the top, his fingers interlocked and told him the rules. Had him sign a contract that was legitimate and he wondered if she drew it up herself. When asked for a name, he gave her his full name and she didn't bat an eye.

That night he woke up slumped on the counter, and the bartender, who he learned was Angel, was shaking him awake. Asking if he wanted her to call someone because they were closing up. He didn't have the conscious thought to respond, and when he woke again he was on a couch. A blanket thrown over him and a bucket by his head, a glass of water and an unopened bottle of ibuprofen next to him on the floor. What was important was that his clothes were still on, there was nothing arrayed with him, his senses. His phone was plugged in, and a sticky note was taped telling him to turn the sound off next time he wanted to pass out else he'd find it broken by a bullet.

"Watch yourself tonight Grayson," The bouncer, Brutus, broke him from his thoughts. He blinked, turning to look at him. He was tall, large. Bald and sporting tattoos from the eyebrows down over every inch of his skin but his back. "Angel's in a mood tonight."

Angel's in a mood? Dick swallowed, brows furrowed as he side stepped those entering the club next. It was a little out of the way place, nothing fancy and apparently the only way people find it is by needing an escape, a safety net to catch them in life. Angel called it Haven for a reason, after all. Brutus nodded his head at the sign by the door, easily missed but Dick knew what it was. There was a tally mark for every scumbag that entered and didn't leave the way they came. In a body bag, missing a finger, etc. His eyes widened, it must be a bad night for it to be hitting ten marks. The sound of a gunshot rang, and he watched as Brutus sighed. Adding another mark to the chalkboard.

Dick turned, turned into the crowd and part of him so badly wanted to fix it. To help. But that's not why he came here, and when old habits kicked. When he tried being the hero once, he had been stopped right in his tracks by Angel. She handled the situation, and when he woke up on that shitty couch she was at the bar. Head in her hands, and he had seen just her back. Seen silvery blonde hair that fell about her shoulders messily, had seen that her skin was sunkissed and golden. That she was covered in ink, with an entire sleeve on her right arm that ended at her elbow on the left. She had what looked like wings on the nape of her neck, and she spoke without her voice being hidden by the base drum. She spoke soft, cool, and calm. There wasn't an edge, there wasn't anger, or anything. Just quiet facts in a soft, but raspy voice. Probably from all the yelling she needed to do in the club at night, but it was.. it shocked him. She didn't look at him once that morning, and when he saw himself out he saw her face hidden by a cup of coffee and fogged up glasses.

This time, he took a deep breath. Side stepping the regulars and the new ones, teenagers and adults wanting to forget. He swears he saw Roy Harper in here once, but like Angel had said. This was the club people came to be forgotten, to forget. To get lost. He promised himself to never approach anyone he recognized in the club outside of it, never bring it up. And despite the detective inside being curious, he didn't investigate it. Didn't even put it in the search engine, didn't look up a blonde woman named Angel. Not even when his fingers twitched, and he burned with wonder.

His shot was waiting for him when he looked down, and he looked up to see a fire in her eyes. She watched the crowd like a hawk, her glasses pushed up her nose and he wondered if they were for show. Babs hated it when her glasses hung too low, got in the way. He didn't ask, instead knocking it back like he had been for months, weeks, days now. A knife left her fingertips in a split second, and he watched it soar through the crowd. Her aim was never off, never wrong, and he wondered how she did that every time.

"Gray." She greeted with a nod, the music was changing to something slower. More somber, but still a rapid beat. He listened to it for a moment, before knocking back the shot again. Sometimes he wondered if this was magic, if it was magic that kept the glasses refilling. If he was in some fevered dream. If Angel was a meta, or a magic user that Batman hadn't sniffed out.

"Angel."

"Why do you come here, Gray?" Angel questioned, taking the glass from him and adding another one next to it. He blinked, she grabbed a bottle from the back pouring it without breaking her gaze from the dancing and the drinking. "To forget, to be forgotten? Maybe both? Maybe neither?"

He swallowed, hands twitching. He caught the glass that slid along the bar top, watching her people watch. What was her aim? What was to gain by breaking her own number one rule? Never address the elephants in the room. She sighed, knocking her glass lightly against his. He heard her muttering, heard the voice blend with the music and he noted it was low enough he could make out the solemn tone of her voice. Was it on purpose or was the music just rigged to some playlist and shuffling?

Dick cleared his throat, mind scrambling for an answer besides 'um'. He didn't know if he wanted to share with her the truth, the reason for his hiding. The way his mind was getting too loud, the eternal battle for Gotham's people growing heavy on his shoulders. He swallowed as she filled her glass again, as she tapped it with her finger until he downed his own and then refilled it.

"I- I want to forget, and not be remembered." He finally admitted, quietly. In the same notes she had spoken in, as if they were sharing their dark secrets. His skin itched and it took him everything to not start clawing at his arm to scratch the itch inside his bones. He downed the shot and then swiped hers, downing it too. "I-"

"Grayson, stop." She said, softly, no room for argument but it wasn't firm. She reached her hand out, palm up to him on the table. "I'm not asking for the story, not even sure I know why I was asking. It's just, you've been coming here for months now. Late, like two in the morning late, you stay until you can barely think straight, talk even. I just, I've seen that kind of thing before. I know how it ends."

He didn't know how to respond, a lump forming in his throat and now he understood what Brutus meant. She was in a mood, a mood for the deep gritty pain of others. Not to cause it, not to revel in it. He's seen her approach customers before, seen her offer her hand and a way to help. Watching those that took it seem as if they became... lighter. Lighter than the traumas and stress, watched as she fixed them with another kind of drink. Watched as one of the people, her helpers, put a blanket over their shoulders and led them outside. He didn't see them again, but he'd notice that she would seem more tired. More run down, and out of it. Like the weight of the world was on her shoulders now... Dick swallowed the lump.

"You need help, Gray, and not the kind of help the glass can provide."

"I-" His voice cracked, and he couldn't bring his gaze from the table. Not as she slowly retracted her hand, offering him another glass. "Thanks, Angel, but-"

"I'm not offering you the help, I've offered others." She said quickly, and he looked up. Ignoring the sting in his eyes as she ran a hand through her hair. "I was just stating, have you considered therapy?"

He laughed. The sound wet, watery, but it was a laugh better than the fake one that has been grating on his nerves. On his ears. He took the shot slower this round, savoring the bitterness that coated his tongue. The burn that followed the drink down his throat. She smiled, it wasn't the same smirk she gave everyone else. It wasn't the same half-smile he's seen her sport when she's snickering at one of his shitty jokes, or Brutus’ begrudging groans. The smile is soft, gentle and almost sad. As if she knows what he's feeling, as if she can feel it, understand it. He didn't know how to feel about that, what to think, or even what to say. Instead, just kept drinking from the glass that kept refilling as the music changed, the dancers returning to their wild carefree behavior as she kept an eye on the crowd and on him. As if worried he would break if she looked away.

He wanted to tell her not to worry, that everything would be fine. That she could do what she did best, make drinks and help her patrons. He wouldn't break if she looked away, if she stopped filling his glass or paying attention. He smiled bitterly; Richard "Dick" Grayson was already broken. She just didn't know it yet. It's okay, his family didn't know either.

He doesn't know how long he spent there, sitting at that countertop. On that old barstool with a cushion jimmy rigged to stay in place. He wonders if it was Angel or Brutus that had the idea to staple it on, and he snickered at the idea of Angel getting pissed and just taking a stapler to the thing. It wouldn't be out of character, not even close to it. He rested his head on the counter, the cold wood soothing to his heated skin. The music, the sounds, all drowning into one as colors merged and swirled into a mosaic. Angel's face, lit by strobe lights, was in his line of vision. A hand gently shaking his shoulder, and he watched her brows furrow. Lips pursed and eyes roll, before the world went dark.

Dick woke to a mild headache, the world far too bright. He groaned, rolling over into his pillow and pulling the blanket over his head. He loved drinks from Angel, the hangover was always mild. He breathed, only to freeze as his brain caught up with his surroundings. He was in his room, in his apartment. He jerked up, hands grasping at his clothes and... he was still dressed. Still fully dressed, even his shoes were still on his feet. There was no glass of water next to him, no unopened bottle of ibuprofen or Tylenol. His phone was plugged into his charger next to his bed, and there was no sticky note reminding him of certain death if he didn't silence the phone, mute the calls, or stop whoever or whatever was pinging his phone despite the silent mode activated.

He frowned, swallowing at the lump forming in his throat as he climbed warily out of bed. Everything was how he left it the night before, his suit on the floor that he very quickly shoved under his bed with his foot. Hoping whoever brought him here, didn't see it. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to ease his racing heart; and failing. Slipping from the room, he froze.

There passed out on his couch, is Angel. Silvery blonde hair was all over the place, some hanging into her face. The rest pushed back, he saw freckles dusting her cheeks. This is the first time he has seen her properly, in the light no less. He looked away, avoiding the way her noted her lips were pink and pouty. She didn't want others to see her face in the light, in the dark of the club with nothing but neon strobe lights her hair was hidden. Her skin tone, her eyes. There was enough light to see others, to see the faces around him, see the clothing people wore. But the colors were so strong it was hard to tell if someone's hair was black or blonde, freckles, dimples, and moles were gone. Designs on clothes faded, only silver catching light, only the metal of piercings shined clearly.

Dick moved to his kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck and combing through messy black hair. This is fine, he is fully dressed. Everything is intact, he could question how the hell she knew where he lived later. Question how they got in also, much later. Along with if she managed to carry him herself, or drag him, or did Brutus take care of it. He shook the thought off, he'll find out later. Probably when she woke up.

In the meantime, breakfast. For two. Maybe some coffee as well. He could do this, he knows how to cook... ish. Okay, so he had received a ban from Alfred's kitchen, but he can cook! He sighed, really wishing he had asked Alfred for lessons now. It's fine. Scooping the grounds into the filter, he started the pot. Letting the warm smell heat his apartment and hoping it wouldn't attract a coffee addicted brother of his today. Not yet anyway. He loved his siblings, his family, and he normally didn't mind (too much) them crashing into his place whenever (especially when Bruce became too much for them). However, Dick had no idea how to go about explaining Angel, about why she was on the couch, not even how he met her. While he could try and play off another hook-up, her being on the couch bespeaks another story alone.

He took a deep breath, this was fine. This is fine. Everything is going to make sense. Dick heard a groan, heard a soft grunt and could see as the head of silver pushed up from behind the back of the couch. Angel shifted, stretching her arms over her head with a whine that had this mouth growing dry. He swallowed thickly, forcing his focus on the coffee pot still brewing. He could hear her getting up, could hear her moving. Her footsteps barely made a sound on the floorboards beneath her, and if he hadn't been trained by the Bat he was sure he wouldn't have even heard her. As it were, he heard her get closer. Felt her eyes as she shuffled her feet and sighed near silently.

"Good morning," She greeted with a yawn.

He glanced at her slowly. Waiting for her to either hide her face or something, but she did neither. Instead meeting his gaze head on, with a sleepy smile-grimace on her face. She had freckles dusting her nose and the apples of her cheeks. A scar ran from the center of her chin down and another was on the corner of her lips, she blinked green eyes slowly up at him. Running slender fingers through pale hair and waiting until he was done.

"Morning Angel..." There were so many questions, so many things he wanted to say and so little time. What to say first, how did he get here. How did she? What happened? Why were they here and not in her club with him waking on that shitty faded green couch with patches sewn into it where holes formed. "Coffee?"

She hummed, "Yes please, I'd have made some when I first got here but... that was an intrusion I refuse to make."

His lips twitched at the corner, nothing changed. Angel was still Angel, even if he now knew her eyes were framed with dark lashes. If he knew her eyes sparkled at the sight of caffeine. He poured some into a cup, one he was pretty sure had been left by Tim. But it was clean and it would do, even if it was covered in a skull and crossbones saying 'Death before Decaf'. He slid the sugar her way, watched as she dumped several packets into the black liquid. Watched as she gestured at the fridge and didn't open until receiving a nod, and watching as she grabbed his milk carton out to pour some in. He sipped his, long and slow as she stirred hers quietly. The only sound was the metal spoon clinking against the glass.

"So..."

"I know you have questions, but I need to say this first, Gray." She cut off, hand raised as she slowly brought the cup to her face and inhaled. "You are going to drown yourself in whatever sorrows and thoughts are inside your head? Fine, but if you do not deign to talk to a therapist, a friend, family, anyone even, for every shot you get from me? You have to talk."

He frowned, "Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter?" She raised a brow, meeting his narrow stare with another one back. He noticed her glasses missing, could see dark bags beneath her eyes. "Look, the club is there for a reason, and you are welcomed. But if you want help to forget, to be forgotten, I ask that you share it for every shot. Or you won't be drinking a shot, I'll give you shitty ass tap water."

He mock-gasped, hand clutched to his chest as if he had some fancy pearls on. Internally, his stomach was rolling. Twisting and knotting as ice started to build inside his fingertips, and he ignored the way his hands had started shaking. Downing a gulp like it was a shot of the coffee, feeling a different kind of burn. She didn't roll her eyes, like he expected. Didn't even bat one. He sighed, he didn't want to talk about himself. Not.... not like this, not like that to anyone. They didn't need the worry, the stress... the burden was his to carry.

"Grayson."

She crossed her arms, brows furrowed now. Yet her tone never became demanding, never scolding. She was giving him choices, options, and yet... he didn't detect the threat. The warning of anger, the promise of demand. He didn't know how to feel about that.

"I'm not saying you need to go walk out there and do it, to pick up a phone and jump the gun, and I don't know what your life is like outside the club. What I do know is you can't keep drinking yourself into a stupor, I can't help you with that."

He licked his lips, breaking from the intensity of her stare to look at the dark liquid sloshing in his glass cup. It was ceramic, a milk white color with flash symbols dancing all over it. A housewarming gift from Wally, and he knew there was a matching Robin one in there, another to match was Superboy, was Aquaman (they pretended it was Aqualad), and Artemis, and Miss Martian (technically Martian Manhunter). For their morning brunches, they had said when they brought it over. Even if Wally's was the most used.

"What do you want me to do?" He hated how his voice sounded like a broken sound, just barely louder than a whisper. He saw her frown out of the corner of his eye, but not once did pity cross her features. Not once did she show a sign of being disappointed or anything.

"All I ask is this, talk to someone. Maybe someone more licensed than some random bartender you met in a club for people who want to get lost."

For the first time since he's met her, Dick heard the steady, even cool notes of her voice waver. They went higher, a lighter note that sounded... almost nervous, dare he say? He found himself breathing a short chuckle at her joke, her lips twitching at the sound.

"Either you can talk to one of them, and if you do -I will know if you don't, keep that in mind- I won't bug you again. Otherwise, for every shot you get from my bar, from my club, from me? You need to spill something for me to keep spilling that liquor in your cup."

"Why do you care?" Dick blurted out after she had finished speaking, her brow raised. "It's not like me drowning myself is costing you anything."

"Oh, Mister Grayson, don't you get it?” She laughed, a short and bitter sound more akin to nails going down a chalkboard. “You will cost me everything."

He blinked, once, twice. Unsure how to respond to such a bold declaration. She didn't break, her eyes never wavering. Focus never splitting even as she blindly reaches for the cup of coffee on the island counter and brings it to her lips. He swallowed the lump in his throat, it wouldn't be hard to spin her some tall tales. To lie, to try and get out of this entire arrangement.

Except, he knows he's never been the best when it comes to expressing himself. To share his inner bits, the vulnerabilities, insecurities, the fears and memories that plague him. He had unfortunately, after a month of being cooped up in his shitty apartment in Bludhaven, had learned to mask it. The face of Dick Grayson becoming a mask as strong as the domino he wore at night, it... it sucked. Feeling too much and too little all at once. There were times he considered calling up Dinah, asking if she was willing... but then the demons in his head would get to him. Too loud, too nasty, and he'd wind up bottling it all up. Caging everything in once again come sunrise.

"You don't have to give me names, give me details." She said softly, back to that somber tone of voice. To the softness and lowness of an alto with a slight rasp. "Give me anything that can clue me in to who you are when you just want to forget. But, I think you need someone to listen. And if you're going to drown yourself in my establishment, I ask that you let me listen."

"I..." He cleared his throat, tipping back his cup. "I'll think about it."

She smiled, it wasn't like the half-smiles or the smirks, not like that rare grin that lightly curled her lips. It was... It almost looked sad, accepting. As if she knew his answer before it even came to his lips, as if she knew how this would end. As if she could see the train coming off its tracks heading right her way. Or is it his way? He didn't know, and a glance at the microwave showed it’s far too early for that line of thoughts. It's only ten in the morning, way too early for that. Far far earlier for an awkward silence by his standard.

"Do you like cereal?"

She blinked at him, and her smile twitched. In five minutes, they were sporting two bowls of cereal. Her apple jacks floating atop the milk, while lucky charms filled his to the brim. She was seated on a barstool, her eyes crinkling with mirth at the corners as he sat atop the island itself ("You fucking heathen!"). The talk was quiet, the awkward silence having disrupted a debate on what cereal is obviously the best. On whether sitting on the counter is in fact something sophisticated adults did ("I'm not a hoodlum, Grayson!").

She explained that Brutus is the one that helped her get him home, that he had signed the legal document with his address for any tab problems that would arise if he walked out without paying. Apparently, it happened enough times for her to make it a legal thing, and he wants to say he's surprised. Honestly, he's not. This is Gotham for crying out loud.

As time began to near noon, their bowls, cups, and silverware washed in the sink. He snickered at the way her eye twitched at the way he left them to dry on a towel, her glasses being plucked off the coffee table and shoved up her nose with a finger. She stretched, the black leather tank-top-corset thing riding high on her stomach to show off a glittering purple-blue gemstone on her belly button. He ignored the heat that burned at his cheeks when he saw it, immediately directing his eyes to the ceiling. She wore hip hugging blue jeans, the knees worn enough to show her knees and he noticed she was wearing heels. Raising her to his chin, he had to resist making a short joke as rustled her hands through her hair.

The silence returned, suffocating and awkward. It made him want to make a joke, say something or another to make her green eyes roll. To make her snort again. Instead, she beat him to the punch, tugging a tie from her jeans and throwing her hair into a messy bun.

"Hey Grayson, have you considered dancing?"

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