sylph_fics | A Darker Path: Nightmares and Pancakes

The main characters protested that the heroes have been getting too much screen-time lately, and this one falls next in the timeline anyway.

Title: Nightmares and Pancakes
Characters: Dick, Rose
Rating: G
Summary: "What does it make me, Rose, that'd I'd do it again?"
Notes: Rose is all

merfilly, but Dick's all my work.

Dick sat bolt upright, panting, shaking, rubbing at his eyes, feeling his pulse hammering against his ribs, fighting the urge to scream--thankful for the years of training that had kept him silent in his sleep. He'd always been plagued by nightmares... nightmares of his parents deaths, of his failures, of Bruce's anger and disappointment--and now, they had a new Star. Starfire. Memories of her haunted his nights, now, flying with her, laughing with her, the playful reckless grace she'd always had all ran together into the memory of Slade's walk towards her unconscious body as he ordered him out of the room with Roy. Her voice echoed in his head now, asking him how he could do this to her...

Five nights of her voice and her eyes and all of his memories of her had run his resources low, making him snappish and uneasy--he'd taken some of that out on Dinah, he knew. It was worst when he spent the night curled against Roy's body--the redhead slept deeply when he knew he was safe, and rarely woke when he started to dream, though he was moving uneasily now, rolling onto his back to look at him. Slade slept like a cat, and when he spent the night beside the older man, Slade would pull him out of the nightmares before they could fully start and stay with him in easy silence until he stopped shaking and could sleep again.

"Dick?" low, sleepy voice, and he just stroked a hand down Roy's arm, not trusting his voice for long moments.

"Go back to sleep, my own. I'm all right."

"Nightmare?"

//You know me too well.// "Yeah. The usual... I'm gonna hit the gym, go back to sleep..." he twisted to lean down and kiss him gently. He couldn't talk to Roy about this one--Roy was still enraged with him over the Outsiders, and he couldn't blame him. With Slade gone on something--and damn it, the man was going to tell him what the hell he was planning, he couldn't help if he didn't know the score!--there was no-one he could go to... so he'd work the memories out of his mind. He'd probably wind up passing out on the mats, but that was okay.

"Y'sure, flyboy?"

"Yeah... just sleep, my own, everything's fine."

"'kay." God, what the sound of Roy's voice like that did to him, low and sweet and sleep-rough and still trusting him... It was almost enough... but he still remembered her voice like that, too. He slipped out of the bed, smiling as Roy settled into his spot like a cat, and pulled on shorts and a T-shirt to head downstairs. //God, only midnight...//

*~*~*~

Several hours later, a restless young woman slipped out of her bed and went to wander the house, trying to quiet her thoughts. Noise in the training room caught her attention, and she went to see what was going on. She pushed the door open noiselessly, and stilled in it.

It was impossible how to tell how long he'd been at this, but the man on the mats in the middle of a tumbling routine--every motion of which screamed pain and sorrow and rage--was absolutely soaked with sweat, shirt thrown over a weight bench, shorts sticking to his legs, hair dripping with it... It had obviously been quite a while, and he didn't look as though he was anywhere near stopping, even though his muscles shook as he landed a flip and took off into another pass.

The person in the doorway watched, a single eye interested in what drove such frenzy, but also wrapped up in just reading every motion, every nuance of the muscles carrying him through the routine.

The pain and the exhaustion eventually took their toll and he missed a landing, ankle twisting, harsh oath ripped from his lungs as he fell and wrapped a hand hard around it, not even noticing the observer, lost in the demons tormenting him.

"You should ice that," came the soft, logical words from his observer. Rose stepped fully into the room, wearing a short kimono style robe that barely came to mid thigh, her hair hanging free and partially hiding the patch she wore.

"Go away, Rose," low growl that sounded very much like her father, not looking up.

"No." Her simple refusal lsoated over his ears, just before she came to look at the ankle, kneeling in front of him. "I want to help you."

"It's just an ankle. The serum... will fix it before morning," words said around harsh, quick breaths.

She reached out, touching his hand lightly. "Not about that." It was rare to see her solemn, more rare for her to touch him and not look for it to lead to an innuendo.

His head snapped around to look at her, blue eyes dark with more than physical pain, and he shook his head. "You can't, Rose."

She cocked her head to one side, frowning. "Because you won't let me? Or because I can't possibly understand?" She drew her hand back. "I'm not heartless, you know. I see you're hurting."

"Both... and you're my student. That's not how this works." Then he caught her hand. "I... know you're not, Rose. That's not it."

She folded her smaller hand around his. "I just want you okay, Dick... you're family now."

He shuddered, hearing another woman say that, the accented voice in his memories so warm and sweet--he shoved his free hand against his eyes, a noise in his throat that he refused to admit was a sob, breathing gone absolutely erratic in defiance of every bit of training he'd ever had.

The girl, whose life had been shattered too many times in recent years, flowed into his space, kneeling up so that she was the right level for his head. Her arms were deceptively strong as she tried to pull him close, offering solace, a point to cling to in the wake of his demons.

He struggled against her for a minute, pride and boundaries warring against everything inside him--and then the strength of her grip and the way she held him snapped something deep in him and he fell against her, silent, racking gasps for air passing for sobs as hot tears soaked the silk, collapsed against her chest.

She kept one arm low around his shoulders, then used her free hand to stroke his hair, leaning her face into his hair and closing her eye. "I've got you, Dick." She kept her voice low and soft. "Just hold on to me."

At the way her voice blended with the one in his head that he would never, ever hear again, he started to hyperventilate, and just clung to her as his lungs worked too-hard too-fast and his hands locked around her arms hard, probably leaving bruises in their wake as he lost control again.

"Dick, shh," Rose urged, swaying a bit. "You're safe here. We're going to take care of you," she promised. "Just hold on, and it will be alright." She was very worried, half hoping Daddy was home and watching, in case she needed help with Dick.

He shook his head against her shoulder, breathing ramping up another notch into the double-time pants of a trauma victim, the enhanced strength and her gentleness blending so utterly with the memories that tortured him that it took everything he had not to scream.

Daddy was watching, hands fisted hard against his thighs, knowing he could not go to his boy, not this time. Not for this.

Rose laced her fingers into Dick's hair, pulling his head back from her shoulder. Regret chased through her eye a moment before her other hand slapped across his cheek, in hopes of breaking the pattern, of bringing him back. "Dick, please, calm down!" She did not have the command voice, but there was a deep urgency, a need to reach him on a deeper level, to pull him out of it.

The shock of that bruising slap stopped the breath in his lungs, not even reacting to the hand fisted in his hair, staring at (through) her, tears still pouring down his cheeks, smeared across his face, but the urgency pulled him together enough to gasp, "S-sorry, Rose. I--I'm sorry..."

"No, Dick...I understand." Her hand relaxed in his hair to stroke it gently. "Do you want to talk? I can listen pretty good sometimes."

"I... No. Yes..." he looked away from the compassion in her eyes and said, so, so faintly, "I killed her." Arms and spine and shoulders shuddered as he said it aloud. None of the defiant pride that claimed his kill of Blockbuster in that lost, aching voice.

The teen slipped around him, kneeling behind the stressed man to drape her arms around him, pressed close for comfort, but where he did not have to 'see' her. She suspected it would help him keep talking about so sensitive a subject. "Tell me, Dick. Let me share it the burden with you. I know you...loved her."

"I'd have married her, once... She was... god, she was fire, and passion, and so amazing... and I gave her vulnerabilities over to your father so he could execute her." The sheer amount of blazing self-hate in his voice was astounding. "I killed her as surely as if I'd pulled the trigger myself. Without what I gave him, Star would have made it a FIGHT. She might've bought them enough time..."

"Enough time for Daddy to have done it himself?" she asked softly. "Your Roy would be dead. You, he would have killed for mercy, I think." Her voice was gentle, but the logic of her words was inescapable. "Because the contract had to be fulfilled, and a messy fight would have broken your spirit. This was clean."

He shook in her arms. "I know. God, I know. I know there was no way I could save her, not with that contract, not when he finally had a reason to take her down... and I could save Roy--Slade likes him, after all--so I did, I gave her up... God, Rose, what am I that I know I'd do it again?"

"Human." He felt her arms tighten around him, holding him tighter. "Humane." She sighed softly past his ear. "Dick, it's going to be...okay. It hurts like hell, always will, to be honest. But you have to look at what the choice was. Lose all, including your life, or keep one, and possibly matter more than you ever have in the past." She pressed her cheek to the side of his head. "I'll always be here for you, when the pain gets so bad."

He bit at his lips, first reaction held behind his teeth, and slowly nodded. "It was already too late for me to go back," he told himself again, pressed back against her body, tipping his head away to turn and look at her, demons still in his eyes. "I... don't know why you think I'll matter more now than I did as the Titans leader, as the hero I used to be... but you're right about one thing--at least I've still got him, and I'm alive... better than the alternative.

Rose smiled slowly at him. "Dick, with Daddy, you can do so much you never were allowed before! When someone needs to go down, you get to make sure they stay down."

He tilted his head thoughtfully, reaching up to wipe away the tears, turning that phrasing over in his mind. "You know, Rose... you're right. I do... and wishes are for fools and children. I'm neither. ...Thank you." The self-loathing and pain were slowly receding from his eyes, replaced with the kind of resolve she would normally see on Renegade's cold features. "The lesser of two evils may still be evil.. but at least I get to live with this one."

"Oh, I'm usually right. You macho types just forget to listen to me," she said, using her lightest voice before giggling softly at him. She hoped it would help him break his mood fully, not wanting him to encounter Daddy in the depressive state he had been.

He shook his head, managing to smile at her--just a little. "That's what you think, at least."

The impulsive girl moved around once more, throwing her arms fully around his neck as she pressed into a hug against him. "I'm glad you picked us," she said with quiet, desperate urgency.

He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, despite being startled, and laughed--bitter laughter, but honest. "I... didn't like the other choices. I don't like the other choices... and... I am, too. I... like being here." By this point, he was smiling more broadly, nodding once. He truly did. Rose was whip-smart and a delight to teach, Slade was--he fought off the blush--and with Roy and Lian safely beside him, he had everything he could possibly expect anymore.

Rose managed to slip down to be more sheltered in his arms, pressing her ear to his chest. "Family," she whispered, not quite in a normal voice. "Family beats all, hold the family tight."

He held her tight, letting her have the shelter she seemed to need, and stroked a hand down her pale, pale hair. "You're right, Rose--and you and Slade and Roy--and Lian--are my family now."

She shivered, the hair rising on her arms. "Yeah, Dick. I know." She shook her head, coming away from whatever it was she had seen.

"Rose... what did you see?" The realization hit him suddenly, what that change in her voice had to mean, and it was pure and utter stupidity to ignore a vision, rather or not she wanted to talk about it.

Rose smiled sweetly at him. "Nothing, Dick...nothing important."

"Rose..."

She leaned up to kiss him, moving from concerned friend to flirty ingénue with ease.

He leaned backwards with all of the serum's speed, seeing the move in the change of her shoulders, and shook his head at her, hand coming up to block her, shaking his head at her once he had her stopped, hand resting over her heart. "No. Good reaction, great way of distracting someone--god knows I've used it--but no, and you know precisely why. What did you see?" In an odd way, he was proud of her attempt at distraction.

She pouted, making it as seductive as she thought he'd let her get away with. "Us... five in Daddy's colors...battlefield." She slipped back toward the vision, as the details floated in the back of her mind.

Dick's eyes went wide at that. "Five of us... Canary? Actively with us?" he shook his head. "I can't believe that one. Talk about a stretch... can you get anything else? Maybe who it is?"

She closed her eye, then shook her head. "No. Just a sense there are five of us, that something happens, and we are at the key move of the battle."

He flashed a smile at her, "Well, where else would we be?" All arrogant confidence and strength in his eyes.

She cocked her head to one side, then nodded. "So, it's the middle of the night; I think you owe me... pancakes."

"...pancakes?" He chuckled softly. "Sure, Rose. Come on, I'll try not to burn the house down. Dinah's not the only one that can cook."

She rose gracefully, spinning around one full time for him, then sashayed toward the door before peeking over her shoulder. "Come on!"

He followed her, stopping long enough to pick his shirt up... and drop it again. "I'm going to go get a shirt, I'll meet you in the kitchen."

"Believe me, the shirt would be wasted," she flirted, eyeing him again.

Dick just smiled at her, shaking his head in amusement. He was going to regret sheltering Roy by making that offer, he just knew it. "While that's nice to know, I don't care to get hit by several-hundred degree grease, thanks."

"Hmm, I'd kiss it and make it all better," she offered, that single eye dancing.

"..You're something else, Rose," he said with a shake of his head, smiling at her as he forced himself not to limp on the still-healing ankle.

"Yeah, but what?" From her tone, it was not completely clear she was joking.

"You're asking a guy? Like I understand any woman?" He, on the other hand, was very definitely teasing.

"This is very true." She waggled her eyebrows at him as she paused to look back at him again. "I think you've shown where your real inclinations lay."

"I'd think you'd have noticed that by now, yes," Dick agreed willingly, waiting for her to get out of the doorway.

"Too bad for me," she said, 'straightening' her short robe.

"You're going to be very, very dangerous to some poor boy's sanity one of these days," he said instead of replying to that comment.

"No, that would be Daddy's job," she added, walking toward the kitchen.

"...yeah, true.." He laughed and went to get a shirt, nightmares and memories under control again, forced away by the open love of his student/sister.

While Dick was on the other end of the house, Slade found his daughter, intercepting her on the way to the kitchen. "Kitten," his voice soft as he walked up behind her.

"Daddy!" she squealed, always happy to see him. She turned and smiled fully for him, his perfect blend of malice, skill, and innocence.

He smiled back at her. "Well done, Kitten. very well done."

She tipped her head to him, cheeks flushing at his praise. "How could I do less, Daddy, for him? For you?"

He reached out to pull her close. "True. Good girl. ...enjoying teasing my boy, kitten?" He was entirely amused by the byplay between them. It was an excellent way for his daughter to stretch her wings.

"Hmm, keeps him on his toes," she evaded coyly.

"True, it does... and amuses you, which is also valuable. Go on. I'll tell Ms. Lance to let you sleep this morning."

She nodded, continuing on her way to the kitchen. She considered the night well spent, if it meant Dick was on a more even keel and her Daddy was pleased with her.

Pancakes at three am were a fairly familiar thing for Dick, though sharing them with Rose was definitely new--and fun, he had to admit as she leaned against the counter talking to him as he cooked.

Current Mood: amused

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

greeneyelove.livejournal.com

I know, considering all he has done, that I should NOT feel sorry for Dick, but the fact is, I do. He's so heartbreaking. It's good to know he at least feels guilt. Great work showing that. And Rose is a doll. :-)

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A Darker Path: Nightmares and Pancakes

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