Dick shook the pills that the doctor had given him. They were non-narcotic since Dick had told them he had tried Slam and hadn't liked it much, just in case it had screwed up his heart since it was a rare but potential side-effect. Thankfully, it hadn't. They were supposed to relieve pain, but they were probably based on some over-the-counter medication.
He was kind of disappointed and part of him was mad at himself for telling the truth about how he had gotten his broken ankle, because the hospital had confirmed it was actually broken, because that first bit had been great. The best he had felt in a long time. The end had been rough, even though it had been complicated by a broken ankle, but the part in the middle but nearer the beginning is what made him tell the truth.
It hadn't been until he had been at the hospital and they had asked what had caused his injury that he remembered it. Wally. He had seen Wally. Well, hallucinated or possibly had some psychotic break, both were rare but potential side-effects of Slam. But he had seen him. The whole thing was kind of fuzzy but he remembered seeing him, talking to him. He could even remember snippets of what Wally said. His hallucination hadn't seemed mad at him. He had been trying to convince him of...something, Something that he hadn't believed. But what was it?
Dick's brow furrowed as he concentrated. What was it? What had his hallucination said? Dick sighed in frustration, it was the edge of his mind. He could remember the feelings from it. The disbelief but also the deep desire to believe, even if couldn't let himself think that it could be possible.
Part of him wanted to get more drugs and try to hallucinate him again, do anything to see him again, even if he wasn't real. Maybe if he did it again, he would remember what Wally said. but with a busted leg, it was hard to chase down people. The only people he knew, he knew as Nightwing and most drug dealers wanted to know who referred them.
So that was a bust, just like his leg. Dick glanced down at the offending appendage. They had put it in a cast, right up to his knee, just under the old sweats he had painstakingly pulled on after somehow managing to pull off his Nightwing suit and tossing it under the bed. The dark blue wrapping was nearly pristine, except for a kind nurse who noticed that he hadn't called or come in with anyone.
He had really screwed up and broken it.
Dick's eyes moved to his kitchen window to watch the setting sun. The oranges and pinks were pretty but they were only heralds of the darkness coming. He had been in the hospital for hours evading and less than truthfully answering the doctor's questions. They had wanted him to stay overnight, for some reason they seemed strangely worried about him for someone who just had a broken ankle.
Dick sipped the coffee he had made himself as he watched. They had moved his bones back into formation. It still hurt when he put any pressure on it but the pain should go away in the next few days as long as he took it easy on the ankle. At least that's what the doctors said, but they also said not to put weight on the ankle for six weeks. Six weeks. He thought to himself as he drank the rest of the coffee and then refilled it with milk. Six weeks. That's how long it would take before they would take off the cast.
His communicator was buzzing, Dick noted distantly, he let it buzz for a few more moments before he jolted. It was his communicator, not his phone, since his phone was right by his side, still as empty as yesterday, except for texts and calls to work. Dick moved, as quickly as possible, with crutches to his room, where he managed to wrangle his communicator out from under the bed.
The second he answered, he heard Batman's tense voice shout.
"Nightwing!" It was the first time he had heard from Bruce in many months, outside of a few short texts. Dick blinked a few times as he took in that someone was finally reaching out to him, talking to him. He would have preferred it for Dick but Nightwing was okay too as long as someone wanted him.
"Yes, Batman." He answered trying to keep any yearning and glee at finally being talked to out of his voice and be professional.
"5 rouges broke out of Arkham." Dick knew how to read between the lines and knew this was his time to ask if Batman needed help and that he'd be there soon, even if he had to push for it. Excitement and joy bubbled through him for a brief moment and Dick opened his mouth to ask- only he caught sight of the cast on his foot.
He screwed up yet again. This had been his chance. His chance to get back to be with his family again, even if it was only in uniform and he had screwed it up like he seemed to be doing with everything lately. Dick swallowed harshly as he wanted to cry but couldn't let himself not with Bruce listening. He closed his eyes for a second and steadied himself with a few breaths before he started to speak.
"Batman, I'm sorry I can't ...I broke my ankle," Dick admitted aloud. Silence met his admission and he could only imagine Bruce's disappointment. How much more disappointed would he be if he knew that he broke his ankle in a drug trip he unwillingly took when a common drug dealer got the drop on him? Would he be embarrassed that he had ever trained him if he couldn't even do a simple thing right?
"That's okay, we can handle it," Bruce spoke a few moments later, though his tone though wasn't as positive as his words, they sounded like condemnation. Also, he had used the word we, like Dick, was not part of it.
"I'm sorry-" Dick started to apologize again when the line of communication was cut. There were Rouges, Dick reminded himself, Bruce needed people who were actually useful and he didn't have time to coddle useless people like Dick. With his cast on he wouldn't even be able to climb a roof, much less jump from roof to roof. He was useless like this, he wouldn't be able to climb anything like this. Maybe he should have jumped off the roof when he had the chance.
