Unbreakable (A Dick Grayson story)

CH 19: Shattered reality

AN:

Trigger warning still applies, although it's more so just thoughts in this chapter.

Also, I just want to say that I really appreciate all of you guys who comment and interact with this story. It truly means the world to me to see people getting genuinely invested in the storyline, and I love you all. 

Dick jolted up, a scream echoing from his lips as he jerked at the restraints holding him to the bed. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his breaths came in ragged gasps, eyes roaming the room wildly, glazed over as if he was not really seeing his surroundings but rather was still trapped within whatever nightmare had awakened him.

It took a few long moments for him to calm enough to realize that he was not in fact in Slade's special room, and a few moments more to register the fact that he was laying on his bed in Wayne Manor, straps holding his body in place.

With that realization, his senses began kicking in and Dick became aware of exactly how much his head hurt, pain radiating through his skull like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. In the same vein, his chest hurt too, each breath making his lungs ache.

And of course, that pain reminded him all too quickly of what had transpired.

He had failed.

Pathetic.

Dick took in a slow, shaky breath. Now was not the time to panic again. He needed to think about this. He needed to plan.

Planning would not save him.

Slade was going to be angry.

Shuddering, Dick shook his head, trying and failing to push back the memories of all the other times that he had messed up. He could not think of that now. There was a reason why he suppressed those memories.

He had deserved it.

He had failed.

Slade was going to be angry.

Stupid. He was so, so stupid. He could not even manage to off himself properly. He deserved whatever punishment Slade would dish out this time. Maybe it would not be so bad? No. Dick had failed. He had messed everything up.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, the noise forcing Dick out of his thoughts, eyes fixing on the doorknob as it turned, and Bruce stepped into the room. Doing his best to school his expression, Dick gave the hero what he could only hope to be a cold stare.

There was only one reason that Dick could think of as to why Bruce was there. "Here to torture information out of me?" After all, Slade had told him that was what would happen if Batman or the League ever captured him.

Better Batman than Slade.

No.

Dick deserved Slade's punishment.

He had failed.

Bruce looked taken aback by his words, face drawing down into a frown as he pulled a chair up to the bedside table. "I... no. I'm not going to torture you. I would never torture you."

"Suuuuure you won't. I tried to kill you. It'd only be fair for you to return the favor at least..." Dick glanced pointedly down at the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. "Or at least give me another knife and let me finish the job."

"You are not going to kill yourself."

"Easy for you to say... I'll find some way to end it. I'm not about to let you hold me prisoner."