Dick Grayson one shots

It's the little things

Dick drifted toward consciousness, a steady beeping echoing in his ears. Something heavy and smothering covered his chest, and he felt the weight of it, crushing any hope he had of escape. He cried out, thrashing until he fell out of his bed and onto the floor.

Blankets were strewn across his bed, and he could hear what he now recognized as Damian's alarm clock beeping from down the hall.

Dick took a shaky breath. "No," he mumbled under his breath. He needed to get out, out of his room, out of the manor... he felt like he was being suffocated. He could almost feel the hand over his mouth and nose, the pill on his tongue...

The window was the closest exit, and Dick rushed to it as if his room was on fire, sliding it open and climbing up the side of the manor to the roof.

The cool breeze helped calm Dick slightly, the rough shingles under his bare feet helping to ground him, convincing his brain he was safe.

Dick walked mindlessly across the manor roof, finding a tree close enough for him to jump to, and making his way to the ground.

The damp cool grass brushed at the bottoms of his feet as he meandered, subconsciously avoiding the alarms and booby traps Bruce had installed in various places.

The events leading up to his death danced in Dick's mind, playing on loop like a horror film stuck on repeat. For a moment he allowed himself to reflect on the time spent alone crying in his room while he'd been with spyral. He'd been so traumatized, but he'd forced himself to be ok. Maybe that was why his family all thought he was past this. That he didn't wake up in a cold sweat every night, practically feeling the machine enclosing him in its cold metal embrace.

Dick shivered, just now realizing how cold it was. 'Maybe I should go back inside,' he thought to himself, his body subconsciously tensing at the thought of going back to sleep, the memories of his nightmares flashing vividly through his mind.

His breathing began to pick up, and he wrapped his arms around himself, something that only made him feel more trapped.

Suddenly Dick found himself on the ground, the wet grass tickling his nose. He curled in on himself, the noise of crickets starting to sound almost like the beeping of a heart monitor.

Dick's lungs froze up and he found he couldn't breathe. He pawed at his face, trying to get rid of the phantom feeling of Lex Luther's hand pressing over his nose and mouth.

Blackness started to invade his vision, and he cried out weakly. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to swallow the pill. "N-no," he mumbled, voice no louder than a whisper. "I-I didn't... d-didn't..." his voice faded as he lost consciousness, his body taking in gasping breaths as he lay on the ground.

—

Bruce groaned when he heard his phone go off. He flipped it over, sleepiness fleeing from his mind when he saw the security alert staring up at him from the screen.

Throwing on a coat and some sandals, Bruce headed outside, following his phone to where the alert had come from. His forward progress halted when he saw a body laying on the ground a few yards in front of him...

Dick was curled up in the cool grass, his pajamas soaked with dew. Bruce hurried over when he recognized him, checking for a pulse, which he was relieved to find, and shaking Dick's shoulder gently.

Dick gasped awake, his breath hitching as he looked into Bruce's eyes, remembering the moment he'd awoken, Bruce cradling him close to his chest and mumbling reassurances that everything would be ok.

"How'd you end up outside chum?" Bruce asked.

Dick blinked, brows furrowing. His memories of earlier that night were fuzzy at best. "Don't know," he mumbled.