CHAPTER 8: Warning for sexual content.
The loud hum of an engine wakes me slowly. I blink, trying to clear my blurry vision. My fingertips come into focus. They're coated in blood. I touch my temple, faintly remembering the butt of a gun bashing down against my head.
There is warmth to my left and, with some difficulty, I turn my head to see Dick. He's alert, sitting up straight, his face as hard as stone. Both our hands and feet are zip-tied and a man sits across from us holding a pistol.
I quickly realise what the humming is; we're on a small cargo plane.
"What…?" My voice comes out croaky and it's hard to form a proper thought.
"It's alright," Dick reassures me quietly. "Everything's going to be fine."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Dicky-boy," a male voice jests from the passenger seat of the plane. A tall man stands up, keeping his head ducked to avoid the plane's roof, as he makes his way toward us. Dick glares up at him heatedly, both of us shifting from our position on the floor.
I twist my hands, the zip-tie cutting into my wrists painfully. "Who the hell are you?" I demand, glaring up at this man as he drinks casually out of a soda can.
A grin spreads over his face. It is sinister and chilling. "Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me not to introduce myself. I'm Vex Turner and I'm here to kill you."
~O~
"Did you call Will again?" Gar questions. Rachel hears the barely constrained panic in his voice and it makes her own anxiety grow.
"Only a million times. She isn't picking up and Dick didn't take his phone with him," she replies, unable to stand still. "Something bad has happened to them, I can feel it."
"Maybe they fought so much they ended up killing each other," Jason suggests, leaning back casually on the kitchen counter, and Gar glares at him.
"You're not helping."
"And you're both overreacting. Will had a hissy fit and Dick's following her around the city like a lost puppy trying to get her to come back. They're probably fine," Jason shrugs.
"No, no something's wrong," Rachel insists. A pit in her stomach has opened up and is only growing bigger with every passing second. She hates being separated from Will. After so many years side by side, it feels unnatural, even if it's been less than eight hours.
"Did you have any luck tracking Will's phone?" Gar asks Jason.
"Nah, it's turned off."
"See, why would she turn her phone off? Something is definitely wrong," Rachel points out, beginning to chew on her fingernails.
Jason shakes his head, exasperated. "Her phone probably just died or she dropped it or something. They're going to show up any minute and you're both going to feel stupid."
"I think you should call Bruce Wayne," Gar says. "He'll know what to do, he can help find them."
"Fuck that! I'm not calling Bruce because Dick and Will aren't missing. And if they are, then we can find them ourselves."
"How?" Rachel feels tears burn her eyes and Gar touches her shoulder comfortingly. "How are we going to find them in a city of over four million people?"
Jason heaves a sigh. "First, let's just figure out if they're even missing. We can't track Will's phone currently, but we can look at the last place it was before it went dead. We'll start there."
~O~
The small plane shakes around us, turbulence making my stomach clench. I've only been on a plane a handful of times in my life before, though it's never been like this; kidnapped and bound. I look at Dick, trying to mask my absolute terror. He leans his shoulder against mine reassuringly.
Crouched before us, Vex Turner tilts his head.
"You see, Dick here, threw me and my whole crew in jail years back when he was still running around as Batman's sidekick. Gotham jails though: not particularly secure." He leans in closer, grinning like it's Christmas. He's enjoying this. "You know, I really ought to thank you, Dick. You locking me up was the best thing that ever happened to me. It really made me think big picture." He waves his arms around, a maniacal look in his eyes. "I was burned in Gotham, couldn't sell there any longer. So, I decided to look to a wider market."
"What market is that?" Dick demands, his voice as cold as ice. Not an ounce of fear seeps through his stony facade.
"More of an international one. Think worldwide." Turner's eyebrows jump in excitement. I can tell he loves gloating, making Dick feel like a failure.
"Where are we going?"
"Well, you can't run an enterprise like mine from an American city, can you? We needed a little more privacy for the projects we're working on. Decided to set up base far, far away from… everywhere." He leans forward slowly, till I can smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. "Out here, there's no one to hear you scream."
I won't give him the satisfaction of showing my fear, so I keep my expression carefully blank. But I can't stop myself from flinching when he throws his head back and starts laughing.
"That's enough. Your problem is with me. She has nothing to do with this. Let her walk away and I'll do whatever you want," Dick states and I glare at him. This is his plan? Give up his life to save mine? What a shitty plan.
"You want me to let her walk away?" Turner looks around us sarcastically. "I can push her out of the plane, if you like?"
Dick's expression tightens, his lips pressing together.
Turner heaves a sigh, standing up. "But, you're right. She has nothing to do with this, just happened to be there. You've been a hard man to catch as of late, Grayson. Holed up in your Titans Tower like a hermit." Turner shrugs, all nonchalance and easy confidence. His hands slip into the pockets of his jeans. "Well, then. I suppose we can get rid of her."
My stomach plummets.
He nods to one of his men, sitting across from us with a gun, who stands and flicks off the safety.
"Wait! Just wait!" Dick shouts, sitting forward and nudging me behind him with his shoulder. The thumping of my heart drowns out everything else as Turner and Dick's arguing voices meld together. I draw my knees up close to my chest. The man with the gun slowly raises the weapon just as Dick begins to stand. I belatedly realise that he has somehow broken free of the zip-tie around his ankles. He brings his arms down hard against himself and the one around his wrists snaps too.
Chaos ensues.
The man aims the gun at Dick's head, but, lightning quick, Dick takes him down. He slams the man into the floor of the plane, the force of it causing the aircraft to jolt in the sky. Turner pulls out a gun from his waistband but Dick manages to grab the barrel and push it away from himself just as it fires with a deafening bang.
The plane jolts again, but this time alarm bells start ringing from up where the pilot is sitting at the controls. The bullet has shot straight through one of the windows and the whole cabin is filled with a loud whooshing sound as the plane starts to depressurise. A duffle bag gets sucked straight out the window and I feel myself start to slide that way.
I manage to hook the zip-tie holding my wrists hostage around a metal hook on the plane's wall and yank until it breaks, then make fast work of freeing my legs. Meanwhile, Dick continues to grapple with Turner, who slips beneath Dick's hits and out of his holds like a sleek panther. Dick manages to grab ahold of his jacket and throws him across the length of the small plane, slamming him right into the back of the pilot who lurches forward, hitting the controls. The plane plummets and we're all tossed down. Dick is the first to regain his footing and he yanks open a small compartment, searching for something, whilst the plane jolts again and I'm flung into the wall.
A warm hand wraps around my upper arm and I am pulled up, straight into Dick's chest.
"Don't let go," he says and my eyebrows furrow.
"What are you—"
His hand goes to the emergency latch on the door and it's at this moment I see the parachute bag slung over his shoulder.
"No, no, wait!"
Behind us, Turner rises with his pistol in hand. Dick flings open the emergency door, wraps his arms around me and jumps just as the crack of a gun being fired is followed by an intense pain in the back of my shoulder. That's all drowned out by the utter terror of free falling through the sky. It's so loud that I think my eardrums are going to burst.
I bury my face in Dick's neck, my legs wrapped around his waist. One of his arms lets go of me and my panic doubles.
"Get ready!" He shouts, just loud enough for me to hear him.
"Ready for what?" I scream back, but he doesn't have time to answer before he yanks on the strap over his shoulder and the parachute deploys. We are jolted so hard that I lose my grip on him and begin to slip down. There is a moment where I am sure I will fall, but his hands close around me and he pulls me back up, into him. I wrap my arms firmly around his neck.
We floating now, gliding through the sky. I pull back just enough to look at him, our cheeks touching momentarily.
"Listen, it's going to be a tough landing. I'll drop you when we're about four feet from the ground."
In the distance we see the plane sailing, smoke pouring out of one of the engines. It's headed for the ground; no way they'll survive the crash.
For a few minutes, there is a semblance of peace. The forest stretches in all directions, mountains climbing on the horizon. We're in the middle of fucking nowhere.
In the relative quiet, my shoulder begins to burn. I crane my neck to look and see blood covering the back of my shirt. My face must pull into a wince because Dick's arms tighten further around me.
"We'll deal with it when we're down, you're going to be fine."
My fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket and when I look down, I see the ground fast approaching, much faster than I anticipated. The breath in my chest catches.
"Roll when you land, otherwise you'll break your ankle," Dick instructs.
Jesus Christ.
We narrowly avoid the top of a tree, plummeting toward a small clearing in the forest. Just as we're about to land, Dick's arms loosen and he lets me slide down his body. I drop to the ground with a thud, landing on my bleeding shoulder and cursing loudly.
Ahead of me, Dick rolls through the grass gracefully and ultimately lands on his feet, quickly shrugging off the billowing parachute and jogging back to me.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," I say, sitting up and clutching my shoulder. He grabs my waist and lifts me up. I sway on my feet, feeling a little dizzy.
"Let's get out of the open and then I'll take a look," he says and we begin moving toward the dense trees.
"Where do you think we are? Still in America?" I ask him.
He shakes his head, looking around at the foliage and plant life surrounding us as we break through the tree line and into the forest. We pick our way over branches and roots.
"I don't think so. If I had to guess, we're in Northern Canada, maybe even Alaska."
"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter. We stop at the base of a large tree and he eases me down against the trunk, crouching beside me. Pain radiates from my shoulder as he gently grasps the bottom of my shirt and lifts it over my head. I feel exposed, out in the wilderness with nothing but my bralette to cover half of me. Dick inspects the wound on the back of my shoulder carefully, one hand gently cradling my neck. "What's the prognosis? Imminent death?" It's comes off as less of a joke and more a bitter comment.
"You'll be fine. The bullet just grazed you." He tears my t-shirt into long strips and uses it as a bandage to wrap my shoulder, tying it tightly and making me cringe.
"Will…" I see the remorse written on his face before the apology even leaves his mouth.
"I don't need to hear it, Grayson. It's not your fault. Let's just get home to the others." To Rachel. My heart twists at the thought of what she must be going through right now. She's got to be worried out of her mind. Or, even worse, what if she thinks we abandoned her? Left her behind? She would never believe that, I remind myself.
"Come on." He holds out his hand for me and pulls me to my feet, then shrugs off his jacket and helps me put it on. There is something tender in the way he zips it up for me. I am so used to looking out for Rachel and for myself; being looked after by someone is almost foreign.
We begin to trudge through the forest, picking our way between fallen branches and uneven ground.
"We don't even know where we're going," I say to him. "You saw when we were up in the sky. There's nothing around for miles."
"We're headed toward where the plane went down. There'll be supplies on it. After that, we'll find running water and follow it. There's got to be a road or a town around here somewhere."
That doesn't sound very promising. I do my best to contain my panic, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. The thick canopy of trees above us shades us from the warm sun.
"What if there isn't a town nearby? I mean, Canada is fucking massive. We could be hundreds of miles away from anyone."
"We'll figure it out. And even if we don't, Jason has probably called Bruce by now. He'll put together a search team, have choppers out looking for us in no time. We'll need to get a flare from the plane, in case anyone flies over us." Dick sounds completely assured, not a crack of worry shining through. He is single-minded, on a mission.
"Who's this Vex Turner guy anyway? Sounded like you two had some personal beef."
"He was an arms dealer in Gotham. Not exactly big time, but smart. He knew how to stay under the radar and it meant that Bruce and I were unable to get to him for years. Eventually, we took him and his whole crew down. I didn't even realise he escaped jail…Bruce never told me." I've noticed that whenever Dick talks about Bruce and his past as Robin, it's with a hint of resentment in his voice.
"Aren't you grateful?" I ask, without thinking it through. Dick looks at me sharply, eyebrows pulled down. "I mean, Bruce took you in, gave you everything you needed, sent you to a good school." I pause. "Loved you. But it always seems like you hate him."
"I don't hate him," Dick is quick to reply. "Of course I'm grateful. But it's complicated."
I shrug. "I would've done anything to have someone half-decent actually want me," I mutter.
Dick stops, touching my elbow to halt me as well and I begrudgingly look at him.
"I know," he says, quietly. Birds chirp and leaves rustle in the gentle breeze around us. "Bruce did more for me than I can say. But he took something from me as well, something I can't ever get back."
Guilt gnaws at me, not just for what I said now but for everything. From the day I met him, he's gotten under my skin consistently, made me feel vulnerable in ways I don't fully understand. And those feelings have made me cruel.
"Dick…" I can't get the words out. What can I even say? Apologies are not my strong suit.
He squeezes my elbow gently, his touch warm and inviting. "Let's keep moving." His hand slips away and we push forward.
The sun has sunk low behind the horizon by the time we find the plane wreck. One of the wings is missing and parts of the plane hang from the trees above.
We move closer, peering inside the hole where the door once was. The pilot's body is slumped over the front controls, his eyes staring open lifelessly. But his is the only body to be found.
"What the hell? Where is Turner and his goon?" I question, looking around the area to see if they were maybe flung out on impact. Dick climbs into the plane and yanks open a small compartment door.
A long breath leaves him. "There were two other parachutes in here," he says. "Now they're gone."
My eyes go wide. "That means we're not alone out here."
~O~
The grainy security cam footage is blown up on the screen at Titans Tower. Rachel, Gar and Jason all watch it closely for the fifth time. A black van screeches into the alleyway, armed gunmen jump out and ambush Dick and Will. Then, they're gone.
"I told you," Rachel breathes as Gar pauses it. "I told you something was wrong! We should've called Bruce sooner!"
"Well he knows now!" Jason snaps back at her, though she can tell it comes from a place of worry and guilt. Pain shines in his eyes, just as it floods Gar's face.
"We've tracked the van to the airport, we know what plane they were on and where they were headed—"
"Yeah but the plane never landed! Anywhere!" Rachel interrupts Jason, feeling overwhelmed. "They're probably dead by now." Her powers surge inside of her, the wicked voice in her head whispering horrible things that she does her best to ignore.
"They're not dead," Jason says it like he's trying to convince himself as much as her.
"Bruce has assembled a massive search team," Gar pipes up, ever the voice of reason. "Helicopters, planes, hundreds of people looking for them. We'll get Dick and Will back."
"We should be out there, helping," Jason says bitterly. "I can't believe we're stuck here."
"Once the drones get in the sky, we can control them from here and look for Dick and Will that way," Gar says. "We just need to be patient and trust that they can make it till we find them."
~O~
Dick and I hike until the sun is completely gone and it's dangerous to continue. We set up the equipment we managed to salvage from the plane in a small rock alcove. A tarp, a blanket, a backpack, a knife and a protein bar that was in the pocket of the dead pilot. We split it.
"We should make a fire. It's freezing," I chatter, wrapping the blanket tightly around me. The tarp flutters above us, tied to some overhanging branches and providing a semblance of cover.
"We can't, not while Turner is out there. The smoke'll be like beacon and they'll know exactly where we are, which is especially dangerous at night when we're not on the move."
"Right…" I curl my knees to my chest, looking out over the forest. It's too dark to see further than a few trees ahead. In the distance, I faintly hear the howl of an animal. "Is that a wolf?"
Dick glances at me. "It's fine. We're going to be fine."
I sit back against the rock behind me, but it seems to suck the warmth from my body, so I sit forward again. "We might as well have a fire because we're going to freeze to death long before Vex fucking Turner finds us."
Dick sighs - I don't know how he isn't freezing, considering I'm wearing his jacket and have the blanket - and reaches his arm out for me. "Come here."
I pull away. "It's fine. I'm fine." My teeth knock together as I shiver.
"You're being stubborn." He gives me a look, brown hair brushing his forehead.
Hesitating still, a breeze shakes the tarp above us and nails home just how fucking cold it is. I crawl toward him and wrap the blanket around both of us. His arms wind around my waist and he practically pulls me into his lap, lying back against one of the tree trunks. Warmth floods me, a saving grace from the chilly air.
His eyes close, completely unbothered. But I'm so tense that I can't even breathe. Everywhere his body presses to mine burns. I am acutely aware of his hands against my back, our legs pressing together, my cheek brushing his shoulder. His chest is firm beneath my hand.
"You need to breathe, Will," he says, eyes still closed and the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.
I seriously consider pinching him. Or biting him.
Then I start to think about my lips being against his skin and I quickly squeeze my eyes shut.
I try everything; counting sheep, emptying my mind, breathing exercises. Just when I think I'm never going to fall asleep and that I'm doomed to lie awake the entire night, I shift my head onto Dick's chest and the lull of his heartbeat sends me straight to sleep.
~O~
Dick's warm brown eyes stare into mine. His fingers touch my cheek and our foreheads move closer together.
Then, I gasp and look down. A knife embedded in my stomach. I fall to the floor and when I look up, Dick's eyes are black.
"Will!"
"Will!" I'm shaken awake. Dick is crouched before me, worry written on his face. My back is sore from sleeping on the ground. "You ok?" He asks and I nod, still pretty out of it.
"I'm fine, I'm fine." The sun has started to creep over the horizon.
"You sure?"
"I said I'm fine," I snap, standing and beginning to fold up the blanket. He doesn't even blink at my attitude. I think, like Rachel, he's acclimated to it by now.
"We should get moving. We want to cover as much distance as possible today. I scouted ahead while you were asleep, there's a river not far from here that we can follow."
"Did you sleep?" I ask. He doesn't answer, busying himself with taking down the tarp and packing the backpack.
We head out, quickly finding the river and following it along from a distance. We stop for water periodically, but push through till the afternoon before we stop for a proper break.
"Hiking fucking sucks," I say, flushed and panting, leaning back against a tree. We've managed to pick some watercress and black walnuts and we snack on them, but we'll need some protein soon.
"Why don't you cool off in the river and I'll see if I can hunt something?" He suggests.
"How are you going to do that? All we have is a knife," I point out.
"I've managed with less." He doesn't explain beyond that, just ventures out into the forest alone. I make my way down to the riverbank and pull my boots off, then the rest of my clothes and carefully fold them up on a dry rock.
Completely naked and feeling more than a little exposed, I move into the water. It's freezing, making me gasp, but I push myself to step in more and more till I'm fully submerged. My body quickly gets used to the temperature and rather than frigid, it becomes refreshing. I carefully peel away the makeshift bandage that Dick wrapped around my shoulder wound. The cool water soothes the gash, which has finally stopped bleeding. I wash out the t-shirt-turned-bandage so I can reuse it.
The sun shines against a perfect blue sky, reflecting off the water's surface and making it glisten like a million little diamonds. Drawing in a deep breath, I let myself sink down. Everything goes quiet, the world falls away.
Rachel's face flashes through my mind. I miss her and I just want to be able to talk to her so badly, to tell her that I'm alright.
I resurface, gasping in air and realise I've floated a bit downstream. I pick my way carefully back over to the rock where my clothes are, my arms wrapped around myself. There is a few minutes where I stand awkwardly naked, waiting for the sun to dry me, wringing out my hair and watching it drip onto the pebbles beneath my feet. Then, using the freshly cleaned shirt material, I rewrap the wound on my shoulder.
I've got my underpants and my bralette on when I sense movement behind me, in the trees. I squint, my heart beginning to race. Has Turner found us?
But then Dick comes rushing out of the tree line.
"Can you give me a minute? I'm getting dressed—"
"Shh!" He shushes me, racing up to me and grabbing my arms. He begins to pull me away from the river, away from the rest of my clothes.
"What the hell? What's—"
"Shh, be quiet," he commands. He half carries me across the forest floor before pinning me against a tree trunk, his eyes wide. The bark digs into my back.
"Dick, I don't—" His hand comes up and covers my mouth as he scans the forest behind us. That's when I hear the faint crunch of leaves, snapping of twigs. I crane my neck, despite the palm across half my face, and see a mountain lion stalking through the underbrush in the distance. It's headed in our direction. I go completely still, my breathing stopped. The mountain lion's dark, beady eyes scan the forest for movement, for prey.
I see Dick's other hand shift and see the glint of the knife. The blade is already covered in blood, presumably from whatever animal he was hunting before. There is hesitation written on his face; he doesn't want to kill the lion, but I know he will if he has to.
It pads its way closer to us, scenting the air. Dick's grip on the knife tightens, my hands curl into the fabric of his shirt, wanting to keep him in place.
Neither of us move an inch, pressed together in perfect stillness.
Just as I am sure that it is about to find us, something in the distance catches its attention and it gracefully spins and races off, lightning fast. Within seconds, it's disappeared into the trees.
Dick looks down at me, his hand slowly sliding off my mouth and coming to rest on the bare skin of my shoulder.
"You ok?" He asks. I'm not quite ready to speak yet. His thighs are pressed against mine, my hands on his chest. I tip my head back and rest it against the tree, needing to just breathe. "Will." His fingers tangle in the hair at the base of my neck and I tilt my chin down so I can meet his eyes.
"I'm ok."
Nodding, he steps back from me. His eyes move down my body and I shift. He looks away, busying himself with cleaning the knife on his jeans. "Get dressed, then we'll eat."
I tip-toe back to the river and quickly pull my clothes on. When I meet Dick in the forest, he's skinning a rabbit with quick, efficient strokes of the knife. A small fire smoulders underneath a layer of leaves, which prevents any smoke from escaping.
I sit down on the forest floor and watch him work on the rabbit. "You're good at this," I say. "At this…survival stuff."
He's focused on the job at hand, but I see his expression tighten. "Bruce had this cabin, just outside of Gotham, in the middle of nowhere. He made me go out into the forest, alone. Made me survive. You learn a lot that way… the hard way."
I nod, picking at a loose thread on my jeans as he places the rabbit meat beneath the layer of leaves to cook against the hot kindling. "When I was younger, we were placed at this cattle ranch for a few months. They had about eight or nine foster kids and we had this massive list of chores we had to do in order to sleep inside. There were a few days where we couldn't get it all done and so they'd lock us out. At first, we could get into the barn, so we'd just sleep in there. But they started locking that up too. So we started sleeping in the woods, all huddled together." I smile a little. "I liked it there. I was sad when they pulled us all."
When I told Rachel that story, she looked at me like I was crazy. "That sounds horrific," she said. "Why on earth would you like living there?"
But Dick doesn't look at me like I'm crazy. When I meet his eyes, there is only understanding in them.
"You said 'we'," he notes.
"Huh?"
"You said 'we were placed at a cattle ranch'. Who's 'we'?"
I shake my head, dismissing him. "I just meant me and the other foster kids. How long is this going to take?" I lean over our makeshift oven.
He pauses, then says, "Not much longer."
"What does rabbit taste like anyway?"
Turns out, rabbit tastes a lot like chicken, only tougher and more intense. I swallow down as much as I can stomach before Dick covers our small fire with dirt and we move on.
We follow the river for hours from the safety of the tree line, the sun slowly sinking lower and lower.
"Do you think Rachel's ok?" I eventually ask when my mind won't stop buzzing and worrying. He looks over at me.
"She's going to be fine. She's got Gar and Jason with her, they've probably contacted Bruce. She'll be fine, I promise." He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. Most of the time, when people make promises, they ring hollow. But with Dick, they always seem genuine and true.
"I never thanked you," I say, very quietly.
"Thanked me for what?" His eyebrows pull down as he walks ahead. I stop though and after a few steps he follows suit, turning back to me.
"For saving me."
A breath leaves him. "From the mountain lion?"
I shake my head, feel my throat start to close. "For all the times before that. All of them." I can't even count how many times Dick has been there for me, from the very first day I met him till now, even when I didn't want him to be. Even when I pushed him away and hated him and wished a million horrible things on him.
He looks down, his face becoming pensive. "I almost killed you as well," he reminds me, reminds himself. Like he's punishing himself.
My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, feeling for scars that aren't there. "It wasn't you," I say. "It wasn't you." And for the first time, I actually believe it. It wasn't him, he was being controlled by Trigon and the Dick Grayson I know would never hurt me. The man standing in front of me would die for me, just as he would for Rachel and Gar and Jason. "I'm sorry," I say. I don't specify what I'm sorry for, but he knows.
There is a moment where it seems like he wants to say something, but then he looks away, "Let's keep moving." So we do.
~O~
The stars out here glitter brightly with no city lights to obscure them, painting the dark sky in shining glimmers.
I stare up at them, thinking it would be a lot more interesting if I knew any constellations.
Dick lies beside me on his back, his arm resting beneath his head. Although it's chilly out, it isn't as cold as last night, so there is a sliver of space between us. The blanket isn't big enough to quite cover both of us, so it only lies over half of him.
My head turns away from the stars to look at him. I study his profile, lit by the pale moonlight; the curve of his nose, low set eyebrows, defined jawline, lips pressed together. His eyes are closed, but I know he's awake.
When I look at him, I feel something in my stomach. A twisting, a pulse, a craving. It's not something I've felt before, not really. Romance was always so peripheral for me; there was always something more important to worry about. Right now, lying next to Dick Grayson who is so close yet so far from me, I think there is nothing more important in the world.
My knees squeeze together and I close my eyes, forcing myself to take long, steadying breaths.
"You ok?" He asks, very quietly.
"Mhm." I don't trust myself to talk right now. I shut my eyes and I try to think of things that don't involve Dick. But somehow my mind drifts back to him, over and over again. Like a broken record player that just keeps skipping to the same beat.
Beside me, he shifts and his arm brushes mine. I have never wanted anything as bad as I want his touch. I'm not the kind of person to follow every whim and desire I have, but this is overwhelming. I want this, I want him…even if I don't know if he wants me back. It's hard to pinpoint the moment I went from hating him to wanting him, but now it consumes me till I can think of nothing else.
Without giving myself time to think it through, I sit up, take in a deep breath and lean over and kiss him. At first he freezes, but then it takes him barely a second to reciprocate, his mouth opening and his hands gripping my head. Our lips slide together, desperate and hungry. I'm half on top of him when his tongue touches mine and his left hand slides down to my neck, wrapping loosely around my throat. My leg brushes against his groin and I feel how hard he is through his pants. He grips my waist and pulls me onto him, sitting up so I'm straddling his hips. I grind down as his mouth drags across my jaw. My fingers tangle in his hair, my lips finding his again. Our chests pressed together, my legs wrapped around him, he lifts me and flips me over, laying me gently down onto the blanket. There, with him hovering above me, our faces barely an inch apart, we pause and pant.
"Will," he breathes. I press my hips up into him and watch his eyes close. "We can't," he manages to get out.
It's not what I want to hear. I arch up and brush my lips across his softly. Our fingers lace together, his hand engulfing mine. "Please," I whisper and he groans.
"Fuck." He kisses me hard, moving our interlaced hands above my head. I get lost in the feeling of our mouthes locked together, his hair brushing my forehead. But soon, I need more. With my free hand, I slip it up his shirt and touch the warm skin of his toned stomach.
He sits back to yank his shirt over his head and I stare at the way his muscles flex as he moves, his tan skin warm and inviting. The nerves kick in when he starts to undo his belt and jeans. I swallow thickly and unzip my jacket with shaky hands, shrugging it off. If we do this, there are so many consequences we're going to have to deal with. We don't have a condom, we'll have to navigate an even more complicated dynamic back at Titans Tower, assuming we even make it home. God, what if Rachel finds out?
He must see my anxiety because he cups my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my skin gently. "We're ok," he says quietly. There is nothing but certainty and confidence in his voice. It puts me at ease, a sense of safety washing over me as he bends down to kiss me again.
He undresses me slowly, starting with my boots, then my jeans that he rolls down my legs methodically. Next, he grips the bottom of my bralette and lifts it over my head in one smooth motion. I shiver in the coolness of the night, but his body quickly covers my own, his hands cupping my breasts and making me gasp. I arch up into his touch, eyes sliding closed. Hot breath against my neck, skin to skin, I push aimlessly at his own jeans, wanting them off. But instead he grasps my wrists and moves them away before kissing his way down my body, settling between my thighs. Oh my god. He trails a finger over my underwear, stopping right where I want him to touch me and circling gently.
"Dick," I breathe out, half begging and half annoyed at his teasing. A soft chuckle spilling from his lips, he hooks his thumbs into the sides of my underwear and drags them down. He folds them and puts them aside.
Now fully exposed, my legs start to close on instinct, but he grasps my knees and opens me. His face lowers without hesitation and his tongue touches me.
My breathing stops.
At first, he's gentle. Soft touches that leave me begging for more. Then, he slips a finger inside of me and his tongue presses insistently. My orgasm washes over me so suddenly that I cry out, my fingers gripping his soft, brown strands of hair tightly as I shake. I slump back against the blanket beneath me, my muscles having the structural integrity of jelly. He hovers above me, his finger still buried in me.
A failed attempt to touch his chest ends with my arm flopping back down to my side uselessly. I feel spent. He slowly withdraws his finger then kisses me hard as he pushes his jeans and underwear down and kicks them off. He lines himself up between my legs.
Renewed excitement floods me when I feel him press into me, but he stops and commands, "Look at me."
I do, holding his gaze as he slowly sinks his length into me, watching the pleasure on his face and feeling it throughout my entire body. The world narrows down to nothing but the space where we touch, where he fills me up, where our skin meets and our bodies curve into each other like puzzle pieces coming together.
He's inside of me, then he's not, then he's sliding back in. In and out. There is something so beautifully unbearable about it; I want more and also less, it's too much and not enough.
"Dick, please," I plead, not knowing what I'm asking for. He somehow knows though and he grasps my wrists, lifts them above my head and drives into me harder.
When we come, it's together, gasping and writhing and interlocked in the best way possible. Chest to chest, my face buried in his neck and our arms wrapped around each other, we lie still for several minutes. When he pulls back slightly, it's to smooth my hair down and kiss me tenderly.
"You ok?" He asks. I nod, mute.
He slides out of me slowly, carefully, then uses the shreds of my ruined t-shirt to clean us up. I wrap the blanket around myself as he pulls his underwear on. The aftermath of sex is never as good as sex itself. The cold floods in now that I'm no longer beneath his body and I shiver.
He stands to put his jeans and shirt back on. "You should get dressed," he says. I grab my clothes and slip into them, glancing up at the nearly full moon glowing in the sky. He lies back down, hand propped under his head, and his eyes closed. The exact same position he was in before, like nothing even happened between us. Masking any dejection I feel, I lie down facing away from him and pull the blanket up to my chin.
It's only a few moments before he's reaching out for me and drawing me toward him, into his side, with a soft, "Come here." His arms wrap around me, warm and safe. The disappointment melts away and I press my face into his bicep, feeling his lips touch my temple. Exhaustion taking over, my eyes flutter closed and when I sleep, it is peaceful and nightmare-free.
~O~
A/N: I hope that anyone reading this is enjoying it! This chapter was super exciting!
If you have any thoughts, I'd love to hear them in a review! Thanks!