Title: When Nightmares Come
Author: Charlene Edwards
Disclaimer: They belong to DC not me (dang it)
Rating: i.e.: PG-13
Story Synopsis: This is in response to John's story challenge. Dick's woke up in a straight jacket in a barred cell. They say Nightwing is all in his mind. What Strange world has our hero woken up in???
Thanks: To Kat, Kim, & Logan for beta'ing. & to John for the idea (like I needed something else to work on, LOL) ;-) Hope y'all like it.
When Nightmares Come:
He stirs into consciousness. As he starts to open his eyes, he finds his vision is blurred. 'Where am I?' He started to get up, but he couldn't move his arms. Something was holding them.
"What?" As he struggled, he realized he was bound by a straight jacket. "What the hell is happening? Where am I?"
Managing to sit up on the bunk he looked around the room with fuzzy eyesight. He knew he had been drugged, he could feel it in his system, that's why he couldn't see clearly. Closing his eyes, he tried to shake off the effects of the drug. Opening his eyes again, he tried to focus.
He was alone. In a cell. A metal room of small dimensions. He sat on the lone bunk. A metal sink and toilet against the back wall. A door of cold steel bars at the front of the room.
"Where am I?" he asked.
Footsteps. He heard the clanging of footsteps approaching his cell. He tried to stand up but fell back on the bunk. The drugs still had a hold on him. Looking toward the door he saw a uniformed guard and a man in a white doctor's coat.
"Are we awake now, Mr. Grayson?" the man in white asked.
"Where am I?"
"Arkham Asylum."
"What!"
"You're here for treatment Mr. Grayson."
"What are you talking about? Arkham's for the criminally insane."
"That's what the court has found you to be."
"Court? What court? What the hell are you talking about?" Dick asked. His head was spinning. His heart rate rapid, his breathing quick and labored.
"You've been suffering from extreme delusions of grandeur. You think you're some kind of costumed vigilante known as Nightwing."
Dick's eyes widened as this doctor mentioned his alter ego. How did he know? "How ... when ... ?"
"This is your first day here. You were transferred here after your trial. Your father, Mr. Wayne, had you in a private sanitarium pending your trial."
"Trial! What trial? What the hell are you talking about?"
"In your delusions, you attacked four men. Put three of them in the hospital. You were tried for aggravated assault and found not guilty by reason of insanity. So the court ordered you here until you're well again."
"No. No! This is not right. That didn't happen. None of that happened. I want to see Bruce."
"Your father will visit with you on the visiting day, I'm sure. Just as soon as you're stabilized."
"You don't get it," he said as he found his feet and approached the door. "I want Bruce. NOW!" Dick started struggling against the arms of the straight jacket. He would get this off. He was going to get out of here and get to the bottom of this.
"Dick."
He stopped struggling as he heard the calm, familiar voice. He turned back toward the cell door and walked as close as he could. "Bruce?"
"Son, Dr. Arkham allowed me to come here to see you. I knew you'd be upset when you came to. Dr.," Bruce said as he turned toward the man who had been speaking with Dick, "may I speak with my son alone."
"Certainly Mr. Wayne, the guard and I will be just down the hall."
Dick and Bruce watched the doctor and guard as the walked away. Then father and son turned to face each other.
"Thank God you're here Bruce, you gotta get me out of here. They know I'm Nightwing."
"Dick, son, try to calm down. Please. The doctors here are going to help you. They'll help you get past these delusions you've been having. I know this isn't going to be pleasant for you. God, you don't know how it kills me to see you like this. In a cell, restrained. But Arkham is better than Blackgate. Which is where you could've ended up. Let these doctors help you Dick."
Dick stared at Bruce with incredulous eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"What? Are you crazy? Get me out of here. You're Batman, I'm Nightwing. What's wrong with you?"
"Dick," Bruce began, then he bowed his head. Looking back up at his son, tears were in his eyes. "These doctors will help you and soon you'll come home to the people who love you. I can't help you now Dick. I have to leave you here. I love you son." With that, Bruce Wayne turned and started walking away.
Dick watched as the man who looked and sounded so much like Bruce moved toward the exit. It couldn't be Bruce. Bruce wouldn't leave him here. Bruce wouldn't have let this happen. He leaned his head against the cold bars, letting out a loud sigh. How did that man look so much like Bruce? How did his captors know he was Nightwing? Who were his captors? God that man sounded so much like Bruce, looked so much like Bruce. What if what he said was ...
"No!" he roughly said, as he shook his head. It was the drugs. It HAD to be the drugs. He couldn't be ... this wasn't real. He wouldn't let it be real. Dick stumbled back to the bunk. Falling, rather than sitting, down on it. His head was dizzy, but his mind raced. The words 'Criminally insane' continuing to run through his mind.
His eyes turned back to the barred cell door. His vision was still slightly blurred. He would get out of here. He'd get to the bottom of this -- he was Nightwing after all.
to be continued.
Author: Charlene Edwards
Disclaimer: They belong to DC not me (dang it)
Rating: i.e.: PG-13
Story Synopsis: This is in response to John's story challenge. Dick's woke up in a straight jacket in a barred cell. They say Nightwing is all in his mind. What Strange world has our hero woken up in???
Thanks: To Kat, Kim, & Logan for beta'ing. & to John for the idea (like I needed something else to work on, LOL) ;-) Hope y'all like it.
When Nightmares Come:
He stirs into consciousness. As he starts to open his eyes, he finds his vision is blurred. 'Where am I?' He started to get up, but he couldn't move his arms. Something was holding them.
"What?" As he struggled, he realized he was bound by a straight jacket. "What the hell is happening? Where am I?"
Managing to sit up on the bunk he looked around the room with fuzzy eyesight. He knew he had been drugged, he could feel it in his system, that's why he couldn't see clearly. Closing his eyes, he tried to shake off the effects of the drug. Opening his eyes again, he tried to focus.
He was alone. In a cell. A metal room of small dimensions. He sat on the lone bunk. A metal sink and toilet against the back wall. A door of cold steel bars at the front of the room.
"Where am I?" he asked.
Footsteps. He heard the clanging of footsteps approaching his cell. He tried to stand up but fell back on the bunk. The drugs still had a hold on him. Looking toward the door he saw a uniformed guard and a man in a white doctor's coat.
"Are we awake now, Mr. Grayson?" the man in white asked.
"Where am I?"
"Arkham Asylum."
"What!"
"You're here for treatment Mr. Grayson."
"What are you talking about? Arkham's for the criminally insane."
"That's what the court has found you to be."
"Court? What court? What the hell are you talking about?" Dick asked. His head was spinning. His heart rate rapid, his breathing quick and labored.
"You've been suffering from extreme delusions of grandeur. You think you're some kind of costumed vigilante known as Nightwing."
Dick's eyes widened as this doctor mentioned his alter ego. How did he know? "How ... when ... ?"
"This is your first day here. You were transferred here after your trial. Your father, Mr. Wayne, had you in a private sanitarium pending your trial."
"Trial! What trial? What the hell are you talking about?"
"In your delusions, you attacked four men. Put three of them in the hospital. You were tried for aggravated assault and found not guilty by reason of insanity. So the court ordered you here until you're well again."
"No. No! This is not right. That didn't happen. None of that happened. I want to see Bruce."
"Your father will visit with you on the visiting day, I'm sure. Just as soon as you're stabilized."
"You don't get it," he said as he found his feet and approached the door. "I want Bruce. NOW!" Dick started struggling against the arms of the straight jacket. He would get this off. He was going to get out of here and get to the bottom of this.
"Dick."
He stopped struggling as he heard the calm, familiar voice. He turned back toward the cell door and walked as close as he could. "Bruce?"
"Son, Dr. Arkham allowed me to come here to see you. I knew you'd be upset when you came to. Dr.," Bruce said as he turned toward the man who had been speaking with Dick, "may I speak with my son alone."
"Certainly Mr. Wayne, the guard and I will be just down the hall."
Dick and Bruce watched the doctor and guard as the walked away. Then father and son turned to face each other.
"Thank God you're here Bruce, you gotta get me out of here. They know I'm Nightwing."
"Dick, son, try to calm down. Please. The doctors here are going to help you. They'll help you get past these delusions you've been having. I know this isn't going to be pleasant for you. God, you don't know how it kills me to see you like this. In a cell, restrained. But Arkham is better than Blackgate. Which is where you could've ended up. Let these doctors help you Dick."
Dick stared at Bruce with incredulous eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"What? Are you crazy? Get me out of here. You're Batman, I'm Nightwing. What's wrong with you?"
"Dick," Bruce began, then he bowed his head. Looking back up at his son, tears were in his eyes. "These doctors will help you and soon you'll come home to the people who love you. I can't help you now Dick. I have to leave you here. I love you son." With that, Bruce Wayne turned and started walking away.
Dick watched as the man who looked and sounded so much like Bruce moved toward the exit. It couldn't be Bruce. Bruce wouldn't leave him here. Bruce wouldn't have let this happen. He leaned his head against the cold bars, letting out a loud sigh. How did that man look so much like Bruce? How did his captors know he was Nightwing? Who were his captors? God that man sounded so much like Bruce, looked so much like Bruce. What if what he said was ...
"No!" he roughly said, as he shook his head. It was the drugs. It HAD to be the drugs. He couldn't be ... this wasn't real. He wouldn't let it be real. Dick stumbled back to the bunk. Falling, rather than sitting, down on it. His head was dizzy, but his mind raced. The words 'Criminally insane' continuing to run through his mind.
His eyes turned back to the barred cell door. His vision was still slightly blurred. He would get out of here. He'd get to the bottom of this -- he was Nightwing after all.
to be continued.