Dick Grayson one shots

Luck

For those of you who don't know... Thirteen aka Traci Thurston is one of Zatanna's proteges :)

Also this has literally been a partially finished draft for daaaaaaays and the scenario is literally so unlikely... sooooooo don't judge too much

"Thirteen fail," the automated voice of the cave's training system called out.

"Better luck next time," Dick said with a smile, helping her to her feet.

"You said that the last 24 times," Traci said in something close to a growl.

"Well screw me for trying to be polite," Dick replied with a grin.

Traci huffed, stomping her foot and crossing her arms across her chest.

A wave of magic washed through the room and Dick stumbled back. "Woah," he mumbled after a moment. "I just had like an Elsa Anna moment from Frozen."

"A-are you ok?" Traci asked sheepishly.

"I... I feel fine," Dick replied. "Now, up for losing for a 25th time?"

—

3:56am

Dick sat up in bed, cold sweat clinging to his body, a chill running through his bones. He looked around. Not seeing anything, he rubbed at his eyes, throwing his blankets off and nestling back into his pillows

—

6am

Dick liked to start off every day optimistic that it'd be a good day, give it a fair chance before it proved him to be wrong... but it's hard to start off the day with a good mindset when your body wakes you up at 6am and refuses to go back to sleep. He'd stayed out later than usual on patrol too, knowing he had the morning off from work.

He stumbled into the bathroom, his phone clattering across the tiled floor when he reached for his toothbrush.

A glance down revealed the screen to be shattered. That was when Dick officially decided it was going to be a bad day. And the rest of the day seemed to be out to prove that fact to him.

—

6:10am

"Ahhh," Dick hissed, glaring as a line of blood beaded on his face, dripping down his cheek. He sighed, setting his shaver down and wadding up some tissue to wipe the trail of blood away.

Another tired sigh echoed in the tiny apartment bathroom as Dick bent to grab his phone. He was really starting to hate today.

—

6:17am

Dick opened the fridge, gagging at the rank smell that seeped into the room. The food he'd bought only a few days earlier was growing fuzzy mold. It would seem his fridge had given out.

—

9:21am

A plunk preceded the smell of frying electronics.

Dick groaned as he looked down at his phone in the sink with the dishes he'd been washing. It was supposed to be water resistant to a degree, but it was clear it wouldn't be coming back from this. The cracks in the screen had signed its official death warrant.

—

10:36am

There was a moment Dick was weightless, almost as if he'd paused mid fall for just the right amount of time to think to himself, 'Crap,' before he went tumbling down his apartment's stairs.