Okay, this chapter's a bit short, but if I'm not mistaken, this is kind of what you've been waiting for. You'll see what I mean in a minute. Hee hee. XD Oh, I had fun writing this one!!
Broken Glass
Chapter Twenty: Say It
"Dick!" Wally hollered as he wandered the streets. "Hey, Dick, where are you?!"
The only answer he received was a streak of lightning and a clap of thunder. Wally glanced up, startled. That storm was closer than he had thought.
"Dick! Come on, where are you!"
Wally searched the streets for hours, calling Dick's name as loudly as he could, trying to be heard over the thunder and, eventually, the pouring rain. Finally, he decided against yelling for his friend; if Dick didn't want to be found, letting the entire east side know someone was searching for him wouldn't help.
As he wandered the muddy streets, he failed to notice when his cell phone fell out of his pocket, essentially cutting him off from the rest of the searching party.
Kid Flash didn't usually like investigating things in stealth mode, but he did know how to do it. He figured that now would be as good a time as any to get a little extra practice in this area.
Wally slipped into the shadows and spent at least an hour peeking around the corners of buildings, searching for any sign of his friend.
But there was nothing.
"Come on, Dick, where are you?" he whispered.
Suddenly, Wally spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up to get a better look and could just barely make out a huddled form on the very edge of a nearby rooftop.
He couldn't tell who it was, but he would bet anything that it was Dick.
Wally almost shouted out but realized that—if it was Dick—he would have time to escape or even jump before he got up there. So he once again opted for stealth and began to silently make his way up the fire escape. It had become slippery because of the rainstorm, and Wally almost forgot about Dick in his quest to keep from falling.
Lightning flashed as Wally set foot on the flat roof. The person was still there, curled up into a small ball with its head buried in its folded arms. Long black hair was plastered against the back of its neck, soaked by the rain.
Wally stopped just behind it.
"Dick?" he said quietly, almost inaudibly.
The dark head slowly straightened up at the sound, but there was no other response from the boy. Wally hesitantly approached and took a seat next to Dick. Neither said anything for a while, just staring out at the stormy black waters below them.
"I was going to jump," Dick finally murmured. The two boys turned to look at each other. Something about the protruding cheekbones and the pained blue eyes struck a chord with Wally, and he found himself swallowing a lump in his throat.
"I came up here to jump," Dick explained, his voice choked. "I knew you'd go straight to Batman with what you found. I didn't want to face him… or you… I was going to jump so I wouldn't have to face anybody."
Dick lowered his head again, as if ashamed of himself.
"But I couldn't. I couldn't do it."
Thank goodness, were the first words that entered Wally's mind.
"And do you know why I couldn't do it? Sure you do," Dick said in a hostile tone. "You know I'm a coward. That's why I couldn't jump. Because I'm a coward."
"Dick, you're not a coward," Wally retorted firmly.
"Yes I am! Why else would you fire me from the Titans?"
"Because you're sick and we wanted to protect you!"
"From what?!"
"Yourself, that's what!"
Dick turned his head away and scowled at the water beneath them. Wally tensed, ready to grab Dick and pin him to the floor in case he decided to jump.
But he didn't.
"I just don't understand you, Wally. Why can't you let it go? I'm fine. Really."
"You were about to jump off a building. Don't you dare tell me you're fine," Wally ground out. Dick turned and blinked at him in surprise. Wally never talked back to people like that.
"I was about to jump because of you," Dick finally shot back. "If you had just minded your own business, everything would have been fine and I could go home!"
"No… no, that's not it at all, is it?" Wally concluded, realization finally dawning. "You know you're sick—you're just afraid to admit it! You weren't going to jump because I found the ipecac… you were going to jump because you didn't want to admit you need help!"
"Shut up, Wally!"
"Dick, just admit it—for your own sake, just say it. Just say you need help!"
"Go away!"
"No! And if you think I'm going to sit back and watch you kill yourself, you've got another thing coming because we all care about you too damn much to let you do this!"
Dick looked as if he had been slapped in the face, Wally's harsh yet loving words cutting him to the quick. Wally just sat there breathing heavily, praying that he'd finally gotten through to his friend.
The pair sat motionless, letting the rain pour down on them and soak through their light jackets. Thunder rolled overhead, almost instantly followed by another vivid streak of lightning and more thunder. A small river was running along the gutter of the dark dirty street below. Wally noticed none of this, still staring at Dick's shaking form.
Finally, Dick's haunted blue eyes came up to meet Wally's green ones. Wally saw fear there, a fear unlike any he'd ever seen before.
"Just say it, Dick. Just say it—'I have an eating disorder and I need help'. It's okay to admit you need help… just say it, please."
Even in the rain, Wally could tell his friend was crying.
"I never… I mean I didn't… I didn't want…"
Dick seemed so lost somehow, so small and vulnerable. Wally had never seen Dick like this. Any anger he felt suddenly dissipated, and a strong sense of sympathy and protectiveness came in its place.
"I know you didn't," Wally said, placing a reassuring hand on Dick's shoulder.
Swiftly, Dick's confusion gave way to panic, and he reached forward to grab the collar of his friend's jacket with an incredibly weak grip that made Wally's heart bleed.
"You gotta help me, Wally," he begged, his voice desperate. "You just gotta help me! Please, Wally! Please, I'll do anything! Just… help me, Wally… help me…"
There Dick lost any self-control he may have had left and dissolved into tears. Wally pulled the other boy closer and held him while he cried. He could feel his own heart breaking as Dick's warm tears added to the dampness of his jacket.
"C'mon, buddy, you're gonna be okay…" he said, trying to fight that annoying lump in his throat. He wasn't used to this consoling thing and wished he never would be. At least not with Dick. "Everything's gonna be okay, you'll see."
After a few minutes, Wally continued, "I'm gonna take you home now, okay, Dick? Then we can straighten this whole thing out with your guardian and he'll—"
"Bruce!" Dick yelped, panicked again. He wrenched himself away from Wally and stared at him with a horrified expression on his face. "Oh, God, what's Bruce gonna think, Wally? What'll he think of me?"
Wally stared, unsure of where Dick was headed with this.
"What'll he think of me…" Dick went on. He turned away from Wally and curled himself into a ball, looking frightened. "I'll tell you what he'll think of me! Nothing but a miserable, pathetic weakling, that's what he'll think of me!"
"No he won't…"
"Yes, he will! Because it's the truth! Just a miserable… pathetic… oh, God…"
Dick brought his arms up over his face, as if trying to hide from the world and all the pain it had caused him. Wally put a comforting arm around Dick's slender shoulders and offered what little support he could.
"Don't worry, Dick. We've always taken care of each other before, right? Well that's not gonna change," he vowed softly. "I promise."
"I don't deserve it," Dick choked out after a short pause.
"Yes you do," Wally insisted, giving Dick's arm a squeeze. He almost panicked as his hand hit poorly-protected bone. "Just wait. Pretty soon this whole thing will be over and you and Roy and me will be sitting around the Watchtower drinking their awful hot chocolate again. Remember how we used to do that, Dick?"
"Hot chocolate…" Dick mumbled compulsively. "A hundred… calories per—"
Wally never got the chance to admonish Dick for his behavior before the distressed young man burst into a violent coughing fit. All Wally could do was glance up at the skies as if to say, Aw, c'mon, don't let him get the flu on top of everything else… c'mon, not now…
As soon as the coughing subsided, Dick went back to crying. Wally let Dick use his shoulder for support once again.
It was the least he could do.
---
An hour later, the two boys sat in Dr. Leslie Thompkins's office. After Dick's crying had slowed, Wally finally realized that he had lost his cell phone, leaving him without a way to contact anyone and tell them he'd found Dick. Dick had suggested going to Dr. Thompkins's office, and Wally had agreed.
It had been a surprisingly long walk for just six blocks. After only a few yards, it had become apparent that Dick was in no condition to do much walking. Without a word, Wally had put his arm around his friend to steady him.
Eventually, Wally was forced to carry him. As he picked him up, Wally could feel Dick's ribs sticking out dangerously, and he seemed almost weightless to Kid Flash's toned muscles.
It was a disturbing experience.
Leslie had, of course, been informed of the fact that Dick was missing. So she was prepared for Dick and Wally when they walked into her office, soaking wet and very distraught.
The first thing she did was to get them a couple of blankets and make sure they were settled semi-comfortably in the waiting room. Then she picked up her phone and called Bruce to let him know that Dick had been found. He promised to come over as soon as he got out of costume, and then hung up without another word.
She sighed. But right now, Dick needed a complete physical, no matter how painful that process would be for him.
For her.
The first thing she did was to weigh him. She made him turn around as he stepped on the scale, however, so that he couldn't see what the number was. She was no expert in the field of eating disorders, but she did know that the number on the scale would never be low enough to an anorexic, no matter how small it was.
Besides, he probably knows the number right down to the last ounce anyway…
The number was seventy-six.
If she had made him take his clothes off, it would have been seventy-three.
Several of the other heroes who had gone along on the search were able to get to Leslie's office before Bruce, thanks to their superpowers. Bruce himself arrived about five minutes after receiving Doctor Leslie's call.
He was not pleased with what he found.
Wally was sitting in the waiting room with a blanket wrapped around him. He turned as soon as Bruce entered, as did the other heroes in the room. Bruce ignored their sympathetic stares and asked where Dick was.
As if on cue, the door to the examination room opened. Leslie came out first with Dick close behind. He, too, was wrapped in a blanket.
For the first time in what seemed like years, Bruce took a good hard look at his ward. He couldn't see much because of the blanket, but his face alone spoke volumes.
He was thin. Much too thin. How the kid could even stand by himself was a mystery to Bruce. The dark circles under his eyes indicated insomnia, a common side effect of eating disorders. The dark circles and the bruises from that night were emphasized by the pale skin surrounding them. Dick was usually well-tanned, plus his skin was just naturally a tone darker because of the Romany in him.
His hands looked a little blue, too, and he was shivering in spite of the blanket. Poor blood circulation and lack of body fat were the most likely culprits.
How could he possibly have missed all this before?
Dick glanced up as he exited the examination room, but when he saw that everybody was looking him, he quickly redirected his gaze to the floor.
He refused to look at Bruce.
He absolutely refused to look up and see the disappointment—probably even the hatred—in his eyes.
Had Dick relented and looked at his mentor, he wouldn't have seen either of those things.
He would have seen pain.
If Sanjaya wins, I will personally tell my mother that I put a cuss word in this story. LOL. I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I don't even watch American Idol, so I don't care whether the guy wins or not. If I offended you (which is looking pretty unlikely from where I'm sitting), please don't kill me. Hehe. XD
Barbara Gordon joins us next chapter. Stay tuned!
Reviewer Replies
JLAfan-No, you didn't miss anything. That paper was the photograph Kid Flash took of the ipecac in Dick's medicine cabinet. It's the same one he showed the Titans.
steelelf-You were close--not a bridge, but a building. Well, at least he didn't do it... as for Speedy, no. No heroin yet. Every half-hour? Wow. That's very flattering... I think. ;)
ShockMePeter-Hehe... I don't know, the chapters just work out that way. Sushi?! Ack! I hate seafood! (cowers) Please spare me because I updated...
AdrenalineRush-JLA stands for Justice League of America. I didn't find out about Raven's bond until after I had finished the fic, so no, I'm afraid it doesn't work here.
Lil' Kanny-Evil? Me? Muahahahaha!! (cough, cough) Terribly sorry about that. I got carried away. XD I can't wait to read your new stories!
Gohanzgirl-Not very far, apparently. And maybe that's a good thing!
SarahC4321-That's okay. I'm glad you're back, though :) And, well, to be quite honest, Robin hasn't been okay for the majority of this story...
Boleyn-I know, the Titans are wrong about that. There's never any one thing that triggers an eating disorder; there's usually quite a few things involved.
kokomocalifornia-That idea of Dick being where the Batsignal is... that was so good I seriously considered rewriting this scene. But I'm lazy, so we'll have to deal with it as is. (sigh) But that was very good thinking, though.
caltha-Ah, it's a shame things aren't that simple! But Speedy was very relieved to here that you weren't gonna kick him anymore, lol.
TheBatThing-As long as you like the story, any review is fine! I have problems with this stupid site all the time, so don't worry about it. Faved? Alright! (dances)
SparklesPlenty-Thank you for that (wonderfully long) review. I couldn't have said it better myself. As for Speedy, um, hold that thought. He's not quite finished behaving like a moron yet (hint, hint).