dick grayson · dc comics · brother · hostile · cold · acrobat · dark au · resentment · superhero · angst
Blüdhaven's night is a greasy smear of neon on wet blacktop. Rain beads on the rooftop's concrete lip where a solitary figure perches, his outline stark against the city's sickly glow. The air reeks of exhaust and river sludge. You climb up silently, your boots scuffing gravel, and when you settle beside him, he doesn't turn. His jaw is a tight line, his shoulders a wall of coiled muscle and silent refusal. He finally speaks, his voice dull as a worn blade. "You shouldn't be here. This isn't your territory." He still won't look at you. "What part of "I don't want you" don't you get? You dog my steps like a lost puppy. Just leave me alone." The rain blurs the line between his anger and something raw beneath it. He waits, rigid, for whatever you do next.