Sorry did I say Monday? I meant Wednesday, definitely Wednesday. Sorry, the holiday weekend (in the US) was a lot busier than I planned.
Also, I changed the ratings on both Guilt and Broken Promises to M.
For about half a week, it seemed like things were looking up. Dick and Oracle had made some small talk and a little bit of playful banter that wasn't strictly necessary on patrol and Dick had seemed like he was a little happier. Dick had even eaten an actual meal. Granted, it was Chinese take-out but it was something and while he was still avoiding sleep, he had managed an average of about thirty-forty five minutes more sleep in that period than he usually did. He had even smiled a time or two that wasn't a complete act.
Of course, because the universe hated him (and Dick) it couldn't let any progress go unpunished. Last night Dick hadn't been able to save someone, despite trying his best. It had happened before but it was much worse this time around since it had been a teenage girl shot in the head right in front of Dick who had been seconds too late to save her.
It was honestly one of the worst things he had seen and he had been a vigilante for most of his teen years. Afterward, Dick had climbed onto the nearest roof and proceeded to have a full-blown panic attack.
As scary as the panic attack had been and it was terrifying, this was worse. Dick wasn't crying this time, Not muttering gibberish that Wally didn't even know if it made sense to Dick. Wasn't staring up into the sky swallowed up by the past but he was staring at the ground in a way that made Wally's blood, if he had any anymore, go cold. The look in his eyes, Wally thought he had seen bleak before, seen despair before but the look in his eyes was so dark and desolate, so bereft of the joy his best friend usually carried around. Wally had seen it only once before and he had hoped to never see it again.
Dick wasn't Nightwing. He wasn't wearing a suit or domino, instead just an old faded t-shirt and some loose black sweatpants that were almost swallowing him and nearly blended into the night. His dark hair was blowing in the slight wind and this was one of the few times he had ever been worried about Dick's balance as he stood on the edge of the roof, on top of his apartment building, especially since his body was slightly trembling.
The not sleeping was bad, the not eating was worse, and the cutting was terrible but this is what he had been worried about. This is what he had never wanted to happen again, and yet he had kept his mouth shut. He hadn't told anyone, not Artemis, not Tim, not Clark, Not Bruce after the two of them had patched things up. He hadn't told anyone, he had let this happen again for a second time just because Dick had begged him to. He had promised that he would get help and he had-
Dick had been okay again but Wally guessed that his support network had been cut into and now…
Now he was standing on the edge of the roof, looking like a strong wind would blow him into the air. And if it didn't blow him off then Dick looked...he looked like he was thinking about jumping. Wally swallowed, as he had never wanted to be in this kind of situation again.
"Please Dick, I really need you to get off this roof right now." His voice trembled as it came out. Dick kept staring off the roof like he was in a trance. What he wouldn't give to just be able to reach out a corporeal arm and grab him, drag him off the roof if he had to.
Wally decided that if he ever escaped this hell, he was going to phase Dick into a room with no doors and nothing else so he would know for five seconds that he would be okay.
"Dick if you throw yourself off this roof, I swear that I will find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you myself." The threat was empty in just about every way it could be.
"Dick, please." He couldn't cry not in this state but he had never wanted more than he did now. He wanted his eyes to burn and the world to be blurry because at least there might be some kind of catharsis or comfort in that. Instead, all he could do was watch as his best friend was seconds away from killing himself, just steps away but unable to do anything. Unable to hug him, unable to scold him, unable to make him stop, no way to beg him to stop.
"You asshole. You promised you would never leave me! " Just because he was "dead" didn't change that. Dick had made him a promise, well more than one and he was breaking the second one. The most important one. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could do. Why wasn't there anything he could do?!
Dick closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Wally didn't want to look, he didn't want to see because he would never be able to forget it, he would never be able to forgive himself. But he couldn't close his eyes, not if this was the last time he'd see Dick.
He had no idea how long it took. It could have been minutes, or hours and if the sun had risen, it might have even been days but eventually, Dick opened his eyes and as if slow motion, stepped down off the wall onto the mostly solid roof.
Wally could hardly believe what he was seeing, he had been bracing himself as best as he could for the worst. Dick hadn't done it. He was still alive, still alive. His hands started slowly unclenching that he hadn't noticed clenching in the first place, his chest felt like a 100-pound weight had been lifted from him.
Or at least, until the trembling in Dick's body got worse almost as soon as he hit the rooftop floor. Dick's arms wrapped around himself in a sort of self-hug that blistered Wally's already torn-up heart. Dick's legs gave out, he crumpled in on himself pulling himself against the wall, pulling in his legs, and wrapping his arms around them.
The trembling got even worse as Dick plastered his head into his folded up knees. His whole body was shaking... and then he heard it. Gut-wrenching sobs that Dick was trying to muffle with his body, even though as far as he knew no one else was on the roof. The blisters poked into the tender muscle.
"Oh, Dick," he whispered into the wind as he looked helplessly down at his best friend still sobbing into his knees.
Dick was not okay. Dick was really not okay.
But at least he was alive. At least he was alive. That was the important thing.
Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I also have a question. Should I combine these two stories? At first, I made them separate because I was not planning to continue it and now Guilt has 6 chapters and Broken Promises has 4. So should I combine them?