Dick Grayson one shots

Emotional support plant

It felt to Dick almost as if he'd just lost his brother again. He clutched the plant to his chest, tears soaking his mask. "I'm sorry Jason," he whispered.

A quick sweep of the apartment proved fruitless. Whoever had broken in was gone. Nothing important seemed to be missing, so Dick went to work finding a bowl big enough for his plant and repotting it with the dirt that had been scattered around on the floor.

He sat there staring at it for a long moment before heading toward the window with a sigh. Might as well do one last sweep of the city.

—

When Dick returned from patrol the next day he found a card by his plant, a small succulent sitting next to it. 'Sorry about your plant,' it said.

Dick was very confused. Who would break into someone's house one night then proceed to break in again to apologize for damage done?

Oh well. Dick brushed it off and went to bed. He was planning on redoing his security system soon anyway.

—

Dick shifted in his bed, groaning softly when he stretched the fresh stitches on his hip. Early on patrol was the worst time for a serious injury. He knew he should be sleeping, but his brain couldn't help but point out the fact that Blüdhaven would now have to go an extra night without her hero because of his carelessness.

This was arguably the worst injury Dick had gotten in months. In fact, he'd hardly been able to make it back to his apartment before he collapsed.

That had been the nice thing about working with Bruce. He'd never had to worry about drifting off while he was stitching his own wounds closed.

A noise at the window startled Dick from his thoughts. He sat up slowly, gritting his teeth as he slid his legs over the side of the bed.

A form was huddled on the fire escape, a red helmet resting against the window.

Dick stood unsteadily, drawing in a sharp breath as he limped to the window. He slid the window open.

The man leaning against the window fell through limply, knocking Dick to the ground.

Dick cried out in pain, his vision blurring. He shoved at the body pinning him down, managing to free himself.

A weak groan came from the man in the helmet. He shifted slightly, reaching up and taking his helmet off. "Hey Dickie," he mumbled.

Dick froze, not even daring to breathe for a long moment. "Jay?" He asked, afraid the sound of his voice would shatter the moment and his brother would be gone again.

Jason let out a weak chuckle. "Hey."

Dick let out a choked sob. "Y-you're alive," he said, his voice heavy with disbelief.

"For now," Jason replied. "Mind helping a guy out? Got hit with some toxin earlier... it's really messing with my head."

Dick managed to stand. "There's been something going around the gangs... some neurotoxin thing..." he said, heading to the bathroom to grab his first aid kit.

Jason was laying on the bed when Dick got back, his eyelids drifting closed.

Dick grabbed one of Jason's hands, pricking his finger and squeezing a drop of blood into the test he'd developed for the toxin.

As suspected, it was positive.

Dick struggled to prep the antidote, his thoughts fuzzy and disjointed. "Here ya go," he mumbled, handing Jason a syringe full of the antitoxin before slumping against the bed.

Jason injected himself with the liquid, forcing himself to sit up and check on his brother despite how tiredness weighted down his limbs and made his eyelids start to fall closed once again.

Dick didn't react when Jason slid to the floor next to him, moving him so he was laying flat on the floor.

Jason noticed the stained red bandages peeking up above Dick's sweatpants. Sure enough, he removed the bandages to reveal a line of messy broken stitches, blood oozing out of the reopened wound.

Grabbing the first aid kit, Jason got to work cleaning up the wound, wrapping it again and setting Dick gently on his bed.

Jason stood at the window for a moment, looking back at his brother. He wondered if he should stay... He didn't want to overstay his welcome... if he was welcome at all, but Dick's wound would definitely need some caring for.

Dick shifted on the bed, letting out a quiet whimper of pain.

Jason sighed and headed for Dick's couch. He'd stay for now... at least to make sure Dick would be okay.