milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Dick Grayson is an idiot. Some times more than others, and right now? Way more than usual. This is proven by nothing else than his physical appearance as he stumbles into the bar in dirty jeans and a hoodie. His brace is gone ( back in the alley, broken, gone ), and his leg ( already hurt, he's an idiot, why did he go ) is bleeding enough to leave a significant amount of the ripped jeans. It's admirable he's even managing to stand up, but he doesn't keep this admirable tactic up for long. Just flops down into the nearest chair and attempts not to break something as a way to take his mind off of the pain.

Okay. This boy? Needs -help-.

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"Leg bleeding. Nothing's broken." Damnit, damnit, damnit. He has to be stuck here and worry people, and he'd rather just stagger home and fix it himself...

"Right." Val pulls a knife out of her pocket and cuts off the bloody leg of the jeans. Another rummage in the apron provides a cloth, which she dips in the water basin, and starts to wash his leg, carefully. "Right, so what did you do to get you in this mess?"

"Nothing." Dick's clammed up from the getgo. Not halfway through, not near the end, but right in the beginning. "It'll be fine."

"Oh, right." Val rolls her eyes. "Hold on, this might sting a bit." She puts a bit of antiseptic on the cloth and gently rubs it. There's now some blood on her skirt as well as the floor. "I did not ask you how it would turn out, I asked what happened. And 'nothing' is a pile of Bantha shit. If it was nothing, I would not be moppig up blood right now."

Dick hisses at the feel of the antiseptic. "How about I can't tell you?" That won't work either. Everyone's too stubborn. She's too stubborn. Damnit.

"Why can't you tell me? Who the hell am I going to tell? I don't even know anyone else from your kriffing universe. And perhaps somehow, in some way I might be able to help." Her hands are, in contrast to her words, extremely gentle, as they put a bandage on the wound, and start to wrap it.

"It's nothing to help." He knows what he did wrong, he'll never do it again.

She falls silent as she finishes wrapping his leg, and then washes her hands in the basin. Standing, she hugs him. Tightly. "Just don't scare me like that, alright? Please."

Dick looks startled at that, then hugs her back. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"I care. You're one of my best friends, Dick. And, well, empath. I know you're hurting. I just... wish I could help. I should be used to the people I love coming in bleeding and hurt, but it still scares me." She sighs.

"It's all my fault, that's why I don't want to tell you." He shakes his head. "I was just an idiot, and doing things I shouldn't have done."

She hops up on the table, the purple streak of her hair falling down on her shoulder. "We're all idiots sometimes." She bites her lip. "I'm not going to force you to tell me, but I'm more than happy to listen anytime. You know that."

Dick shakes his head. "You won't like this one. At all."

"I hear a lot of things that I don't like." She shakes her head. "Sithspit, I've -written- things I don't like."

"Have you ever gone patrolling without armour?" He asks, quietly.

"I have to say, Dick, that I've never been patrolling." Yet. She raises an eyebrow, though. "That might fall in the realm of 'stupid', though." Granted, her husband's a fighter, and doesn't even -own- armour, so she's perhaps not the right one to ask.

"It falls in the realm of 'completely stupid in an unrepairable way.'" Dick shakes his head. "And I think this just proves it."

"Your leg will mend, Dick. Pride, well, can't do much about that." She pauses. "And might I ask why you were patrolling sans armour anyway?"

Dick shakes his head. "I'd tell you if I knew myself." Well, he had glimmers and hints of it. He just didn't want to admit to them. And therefore, the handy sense of denial repressed it all.

Val just sighs. "If you say, so, Dick." There's a deep concern in her eyes.

"It's just stupid timing." Dick bites his lip. "I was going to get things started soon."

Of course, this doesn't necessarily mean anything to that.

"Perhaps it's the multi-verse's way of saying that you shouldn't get things started right now. Perhaps it's a cosmic hold sign." She shrugs. "Or perhaps it's something else."

Dick shakes his head. "I can work it to my advantage. It can help me get into the family better." He's not quite making sense, is he?

No, he's really not. "Alright, Dick? I might be a Wiggin, I might be able to follow Peter at his most incoherent, but I don't know what the frell you're talking about." She raises an eyebrow. "What the frell are you talking about?"

"I'm infilitrating a mob family in New York, and working my way down to Gotham from that." It was the easiest and best line of offense. "This'll help. I think."