Maybe this wasn't his best decision. Maybe there were a hundred better ways he could of handled it. But, in that moment, Dick didn't care. Slouched on a stool in front of a grimy table, Dick let the blaring noises from the wall-mounted TV and the indistinguishable snippets of conversations wash over him as he nursed his ice-cold drink. He had lost count of how many he had drank, mind too fuzzy and eyesight too blurry to keep track.

The others never considered Dick to be a drinker - hell, even Dick himself didn't – but the Titans had been arguing over something and he needed to escape from it all. What they were arguing about, Dick didn't remember. He didn't even remember how long he had been sat in the run-down bar for as he downed his drink, immediately ordering another one.

Dick must have looked bad, for when the bartender put a new glass down on the table, they served him a concerned look alongside it. He didn't care. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn't care. Dick glanced out the window and noticed that it had already gotten dark outside. He didn't care. Clumsily bringing the glass to his lips, Dick took a large swig of the burning liquid, ignoring how he spilled some onto his t-shirt.

He felt tired. Sleepy. And sad. But mostly sleepy. Yeah, he wanted to go to sleep. Somehow, Dick needed to get his heavily intoxicated self back to the Tower and sneak in unnoticed. Even in the state he was in, Dick knew that he wouldn't be able to do that alone, he needed help.

Kory. She would help, Kory always helped. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone and almost dropped it as he opened his contacts. Letters and numbers swirled together, making it impossible for Dick to clearly read anything. He selected a number at random, hoping that he had guessed correctly as he let it ring.

"Dick?" Hank's gruff voice filtered through the phone. Oops. Well, it was too late to go back now.

"H'nk," Dick slurred, "I need you to pick m' up."

"Are you okay?" Hank asked, sounding more concerned than he had a second ago. "You've been gone for hours, are you injured? I'll go tell the others that-"

"Nonononono, th's needs to be a secret. Can't tell th'm." He quickly protested. He could almost feel Hank's confusion flowing through the phone screen.

"Where are you?"

Dick found himself at a loss for words, realizing that he didn't know where exactly he was. Searching his surroundings, he spotted a menu next to him and tried to concentrate at the words written at the top.

"Dick? You still there, bird brain?" Hank prompted. By some miracle, Dick managed to read the name of the bar and recited it to Hank. There was a brief moment of silence on both ends.

"Alright, stay there. Don't move." Hank's voice was surprisingly gentle. "I'll be there in a few minutes." He hung up.

Dick stared at the phone for a second, his brain not understanding why the call had suddenly ended, before he dropped it onto the table and took another sip of his drink. He managed to drink about half of it before the sound of a door opening behind him caused him to turn around.

A tall figure entered the bar, seemingly searching for something when he spotted Dick. They began to head towards him and as they got closer, Dick could make out who it was. Hank. Wait, why was Hank here?

Dick racked his brain and tried to remember but everything was too hazy to focus. Hank walked up to him, a strange expression on his face. They both looked at each other in silence, neither knowing what to say, before Hank cleared his throat.

"I wondered where you were. I mean, I know you love to pull the disappearing act, but I wouldn't have guessed that you ended up here." Dick blinked. Hank sighed.

"C'mon, let's get you back to the Tower." Hank said, holding out his hand. Dick went to stand but his foot got caught on the bar stool's leg, causing him to topple over. He collided with Hank's chest, causing the older man to step backwards in surprise.

Before he could fall to the floor, Hank quickly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, using the other one to reach around Dick and grab his phone, which lay forgotten on the table. He tucked the device into his pocket, jostling Dick slightly at the movement.

Hank readjusted him so that Dick was facing forward and started to lead him to the door. Dick stumbled next to him, tripping over his own feet and leaning heavily into Hank's side. He could vaguely hear Hank muttering under his breath, though he didn't sound genuinely angry. Dick didn't say anything, using all of his energy to move his feet forward.

The chilly night breeze clawed at Dick's skin as they walked down the empty street. Parked quite close to the bar was Hank's car, headlights flashing as Hank unlocked it. He walked them both over to the passenger side, opened the door and helped Dick climb inside. Dick melted into the seat as Hank got in on the driver's side. He waited for the engine to start and the car to start moving. It didn't.

"Seat belt, dumbass." Oh. Right.

Struggling slightly to grab the seat belt buckle, Dick attempted to fasten it, failing miserably. He was on his fifth attempt when Hank muttered a quiet "for fuck's sake" and lent over him, buckling Dick's seat belt for him.

"Th'nks." Dick said, vaguely aware of the strong stench of liquor that drenched his breath. If Hank smelled it he didn't react as he sat back down in his own seat and started to drive back to Titans Tower. As the car bumped along the road, Dick's head lolled to one side and he noticed that he could just about see himself in the wing mirror – his eyes were red, hair tousled, and there was a large stain on his shirt where he had spilled on of his drinks.

He looked like shit. Felt like it too.

With every turn the car made, his stomach turned alongside it. Dick couldn't remember the last time he had eaten as the contents of his stomach sloshed around inside him. He couldn't suppress the sudden gag that crawled up his throat. Hank glanced at him in alarm, suddenly turning the car towards the side of the road.

"Dick, if you throw up in my fucking car I'll-" Dick flung the door open and vomited all over the concrete below him. He gagged again, spitting in an attempt to rid the vile taste that filled his mouth. Collapsing back into his seat, Dick weakly pulled the door closed, panting heavily.

"Shit, Dick…" Hank said, watching Dick with worried eyes. Dick refused to meet his gaze as he tried to even his breathing.

"S'rry." He mumbled, feeling ashamed. The same unusual look that Hank had earlier flashed across his face again, but it was gone before Dick had the chance to decipher what it was.

The rest of the car ride was awkwardly quiet, the constant hum of the engine oddly relaxing. Dick only noticed that they had arrived at the Tower when Hank was standing in front of him, unclasping his seat belt. He pulled Dick out of the car and practically carried him all the way to the elevator. Dick wanted to protest – he hated feeling so weak – but he couldn't get his brain and mouth to cooperate.

Linking arms in order to keep Dick upright, Hank pushed the button for the elevator and waited for it to begin to rise. Dick swayed, exhaustion gradually beginning to overtake him. He wondered if the others had gone to bed yet, a realization hitting him in the face.

"No," Dick started, feebly trying to free himself from Hank's grip, "no, we can't go, the oth'rs will.. I can't…" He trailed off, struggling to form a coherent sentence. Hank's hold on him tightened.

"Dick, relax. Everyone is in their rooms. No-one will see us." The elevator doors slid open and, true to Hank's word, the room was vacant. Hank dragged Dick down the corridor and to his room, where he unceremoniously dumped him onto his bed. Dick was sprawled out on top of the covers, his body feeling like it was full of lead.

"I'll be right back." Hank said before disappearing out of the room. Taking a deep breath, Dick felt his eyelids grow heavy. The silk bed sheets, relief from making it back home, and alcohol floating in his system made Dick feel more relaxed than he had ever felt before. He sank deeper into the mattress, eyes slipping closed.

"Hey, bird brain, wake up." Hank said, shaking Dick awake. He groaned and groggily opened his eyes, squinting up at Hank who had returned carrying numerous items. One of which was a large glass of cold water.

Dropping the other items onto the bed, Hank used is free hand to prop Dick up against the pillows before handing him the glass. Dick went to take a sip but the glass was so full that it was too heavy to bring up to his lips. Noticing his struggle, Hank grabbed the bottom of the drink and guided it to Dick's mouth, allowing him to take small sips.

He only had half of the water before Hank pulled the glass away and placed it on the nightstand next to Dick. Hank picked up one of the other objects and Dick recognized it as one of the leftover slices of pizza from the fridge. He motioned for Dick to take it from him but Dick's stomach lurched at the thought of eating. He pushed Hank's hand away.

"You need to eat, Dick. It'll help you feel better." Dick still refused. Taking the time to think for a moment, Hank spoke again.

"If you eat it, I'll let you go back to sleep." The temptation of sleep was too hard to ignore as Dick reluctantly took the pizza slice and had a small bite. Hank watched as he ate the food little by little, not saying anything. Dick looked at Hank, down to the pizza, then back to Hank.

"You're helpin' me." Dick said, voice slightly muffled from the half-eaten food in his mouth. "Why?"

Hank scoffed. "Only because I'm pretty sure you won't remember it." He suddenly grew serious, leaning forward and locking eyes with Dick. "Why did you do it, though? I never thought you'd enjoy spending time in a place like that." Dick took another bite of his pizza and shrugged.

"Jus' stressed. Needed to get away." Hank stared at him with something that Dick now recognized was pity as he finished the last of his pizza slice. Usually Dick would never admit when he felt like this, but the alcohol flowing through his veins made him more vulnerable. Hank looked like he wanted to say something but he remained quiet.

Dick's arm fell back down to his side as soon as he had finished eating, his body slowly filling with lead.

" 'm tired, H'nk."

"I know, I know, just take this for me and I'll leave you alone, okay?" He said, opening a box of ibuprofen tablets and holding one out to Dick. With great effort, Dick managed to take it and place it in his mouth before Hank helped him drink the rest of the water.

As soon as he had finished, Dick shut his eyes, on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. A blanket was gently draped over him, further luring him into unconsciousness. Hank said something but Dick couldn't hear it as he promptly fell asleep.

When Dick woke up, he was greeted with an unrelenting pounding in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the sunlight beaming through his window in an attempt to ease the pain. It felt like he has been hit in the head with a hammer repeatedly, brain aching from the impact.

Dick's tongue was stuck to the roof of his extremely dry mouth and he peeled it off to try and wet his chapped lips. Squinting, he peered at the alarm clock next to him. 11:37 am. Shit. He had missed breakfast, and the others would have definitely noticed his absence by now.

Lethargically sitting up, Dick swung his legs over the side of the bed and made his way to the en-suite bathroom. He drank some water from the sink's tap before looking at himself in the mirror. To put it simply, Dick looked like he had been hit by a bus. He sighed. That sigh quickly turned into a cough, which then turned into Dick falling to his knees and retching into the toilet.

Once he was done, Dick rested his forehead on the toilet seat, desperately trying to remember what had happened the night before. He didn't remember the Titans going on any missions, but he didn't seem to remember much of anything so he couldn't be too sure. A knock on his bedroom door interrupted his thoughts.

"Dick? You up yet?" Hank. Fragments of a memory flickered into Dick's mind, but they were distorted, unclear. He flushed the toilet and managed to make it back to his bed just as Hank walked through the door. He looked Dick up and down before grimacing.

"Yikes, pretty bad hangover you've got there." Hangover? "Not surprising, since you were too drunk to even walk by yourself."

All the events of the previous day came flooding back to Dick: the argument, the bar, Hank helping him. He ducked his head, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The bed dipped slightly as Hank sat next to him, a glass of juice in his hands.

"Here, drink this. I'm guessing you don't need me to help you this time." Dick blushed even harder as he accepted the drink. "But seriously, what the fuck Dick? What possessed you into thinking that downing drinks to the point that you were on the verge of alcohol poisoning was a good idea?"

Dick gulped. "I don't know, I… everything gets a bit too much sometimes, you know? With the Titans and everything. I just needed a break, we both know I don't exactly have the healthiest coping mechanisms."

"Yeah, yeah, your mental health is a fucking train wreck, we know," Hank said, waving a hand at Dick, "but this is not a path you want to go down. Trust me." Guilt mixed with the shame, making Dick feel worse than he already did.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I promise." He said sincerely.

"It better not, I'm not your personal servant, I shouldn't have to spend my time looking after your drunk ass." Hank rose, heading back towards the door. "I told the others you weren't feeling well, so they shouldn't come and bother you, but I don't think those kids are capable of actually following any instructions. Oh, and," he pulled a snack bar out of his pocket, tossing it at Dick, "try to eat some of this, it might help you feel more alive." Hank pulled the door closed as he left.

Dick stared at the snack in his hand before he began to unwrap it, feeling slightly stunned but noticeably more content than he had felt in a while.