hypnoticsong | For flyingg

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For flyingg

The doctors would keep the amnesiac Dick Grayson another day for observation but aside from still not remembering his identity, his brainscans were good so they eventually released him into Hartley's care. He was the only visitor the man had received and no one had thus far reported a man matching Dick's description missing unfortunately.

So as they stood there outside the lobby of the ER, the former Rogue found himself hesitating. What now? He couldn't just take the man home like he was a stray. That would be both presumptions and just a little bit creepy.

"So...what now? Do you want to go find your car? Maybe we'll get lucky and there's some kind of identification in it? You didn't have a wallet on you, after all. I sometimes forget to grab mine too so maybe it's just waiting for you stuck between two seats?" He was babbling a little and he knew it. "Or we can go clothes."

Piper shot Dick a wry smile. The shirt he'd picked out for the man was probably a size too small and was distractingly tight around his shoulders. But at least he couldn't really go wrong with sweatpants, right?

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Currently, Dick was worried, by those reactions, his eyes searching Hartley's face. What is wrong? Did somebody do something to you? Because, if they did, I'll... what? What would he do? What could he do, who was he, to be able to do anything?

He swallowed, and nodded. "That works, okay."

And when Piper's caress came, Dick turned his palm and laced fingers with the redhead's. He'd let go at the first sign that Hartley wanted him to, because people, or comfort levels, or anything. But he? He was nobody, here. Nobody had recognized him this far, and he wondered anyone would, yet. It didn't matter what people thought about him.

He could offer support, at least, as he went with his new friend.

If only Dick knew. And he would, just as soon as Hartley worked up the nerve to tell him.

Hartley smiled more realistically this time and bumped his shoulder against Dick's affectionately as the younger man laced their fingers together. He had no problem with the gesture however and squeezed Dick's fingers reassuringly in answer. "It's okay, really."

Once they made it out onto the street and back towards where Piper had parked his car, shock of shocks, no one really paid them any mind. It wasn't like they were back in the 50's and 60's where gay men had to hide their lifestyle from the general public. Sure, there were still homophobes and people who objected to the gay lifestyle but Piper had learned to have a thick skin where they were concerned.

After all, he'd had to listen to just about every deprecating remark from the Rogues over the years. Having cybernetically enhanced hearing could be a bitch sometimes. It was only after they approached Piper's car that Hartley withdrew his hand from Dick's and that was so he could dig out his keys and unlock the door.

"You want to put your stuff in the trunk?"

"Sure, yeah." Dick almost seemed to startle when Hartley let go, and asked, but he started towards the trunk promptly and without a sign of reluctance. The shortish walk was still a time of silence when Dick had managed to sink in his thoughts, the linked hands his anchor, and he... was not making much sense of what he knew about himself. Little bits and pieces, flashes and feelings that just didn't add up.

Here-and-now. Focus on the here-and-now, he told himself, and, by the time he slipped into the passenger seat, a 'light' version of his smile was back in his eyes.

"Thanks. For... having patience with me." Oh, yes, his thoughts not making sense reminded him that it was the case. Patience. "Doesn't seem to be something I do very well with."

He moved to pop the trunk for Dick before climbing inside the car. Piper watched the younger man's actions from the rear view mirror and looked over at Dick with a smile as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

Hartley leaned over and looped one arm around Dick's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He leaned his head against the younger man's affectionately over the console separating their seats. "Luckily for you, I happen to have an over-abundance of patience." He teased affectionately before pulling away.

"And I meant it, you're doing great so far. Once we get back to your hotel room, I'm sure we'll find plenty of other things that will jog your memory."

"Thank you," he breathed out, sagging a little into the hug, hugging back.

The emotional whiplash was draining, actually. He could keep going, would keep going, but he wasn't firing on all cylinders, and it was taking a tall.

Hartley's presence, his support, helped more than he had words to say. Or even think. And the gratitude was real.

After a few moments, Dick gently pulled back enough to look up into the blue eyes. Into the warmth and comfort there. And he smiled.

"So long as I don't start tripping over my feet and make a fool out of myself, I think I'll survive."

He had the overwhelming urge to kiss him again but Piper reined in that urge and settled for dropping an affectionate kiss to the crown of Dick's head instead.

"You're welcome and I know this is a lot but you'll get through it and I'll stick with you the whole way if you need me to."

For his own sanity's sake, Hartley finally let the hug drop and focused his attention on driving the car and not the warm look in the younger man's eyes.

"Somehow, I doubt that will be a problem with you, Dick. You're pretty light on your feet." Which was to say he was one of the most graceful people he'd ever clapped eyes on.

"I've no doubt that you will," Dick murmured back. And it was not an empty statement, either. He trusted Hartley. It felt right.

When the redhead let go and turned ahead, he sat back and buckled up. Grinned slightly.

"Well. It kind of feels easier to be light, yes. I'm pretty sure I stumble, too." Without explosions and concussions. "Probably."

Yeah. Right.

"But, yeah, light. Almost like I should try to fly, which is silly, isn't it?"

Hartley simple spared him a quick smile as he backed out of the parking space and finally exited onto the street. He knew this part of the city like the back of his hand because this was where the gays in Central City tended to congregate. Which meant he knew which alleyway to cut down to avoid most of the detour traffic.

"Not really, I know a couple of people like that. One guy I know, James, he was actually an acrobat when he was younger. His family is apparently some famous tightrope and trapeze act called the Flying Jesses but James is actually afraid of heights. Sufficing to say, that went over well with his family."

Piper murmured a little sadly. James had confided that to him one night when he'd been especially drunk. His father had been a harsh man supposedly and despite James's fear of heights, he'd forced the young man up on the high wire anyway. It had been what drove the Trickster to invent his first pair of flying shoes actually.

"I'm not afraid of heights," the response was quick and unthinking, "and I was taught to walk - on a tightrope. It was--"

And then the easy, cheerful, eager voice that comes with remembering some things just clamped up, Dick freezing in the passenger seat, the flash of flight on the trapeze, the sure touch and hold of his mother's hands around his arms, the whistle of air against his ears as he rolls through it, one, two, three, four times... that memory flashed into watching them fall, kneeling before their still bodies, sprawled on the ground. There was a thin trickle of blood from the corner of his mom's mouth.

After maybe a full minute, he finally managed, "I'm not afraid of heights, even if some could say that the heights took my parents from me."

It was probably a good thing that Piper was stopped at traffic light when Dick let that slip because he was genuinely floored. "I'm sorry? What, you're saying you grew up in a circus like James?"

Piper asked with a quiet laugh. A glance at Dick however struck him dumb. The dark-haired man had grown ashen and there was a decidedly glassy look in the man's eyes which he could only take to mean he was digging through something in his mind. A memory perhaps? Not a pleasant one if Hartley were to guess judging by the subtle twitch of grief that briefly flickered across the man's face.

"Oh...Dick. I'm so sorry." Sympathy touched Piper's face and the rude honking of the car behind suddenly reminded him that they were in fact in the middle of the road and the light had just gone green. He stomped on the accelerator a little harder than was necessary and headed down the street the next four blocks until they reached the coffee shop he'd told Dick about.

"Yeah, I think so." Quiet, very quiet, and the words were coming hard. "I remember flying with them. The tightrope. Remember falling asleep curled up against an elephant." His voice softened with fondness, at that.

He moved, for the first time since remembering ... that, to run a hand back through his hair. "Somebody frayed a rope before a show. No safety net. In Gotham. That's how I stayed there, I think. It... seems like it was a long time ago."

He couldn't say it was all right, because right now, it wasn't.

By the time the car stopped, he'd recovered some of his color, though not quite the smile. He stepped out of the car, rolling his shoulders a bit.

"Right. Coffee. Sorry for... dumping this out." He wasn't quite lost to memory enough to miss Hartley's reactions. "It all just hit me when I thought of circus and trapeze..."

"Sounds like a pretty interesting childhood." Piper murmured with a soft look. The concern was plain to see on the man's face as he watched Dick from the corner of his eye.

He put the car into park in front of the coffee shop that had a rainbow flag hanging proudly in the window and proclaimed itself a LGBT friendly establishment.

"Alright. I've got my laptop with me we'll hop on the wifi and figure out all we can about Dick Grayson from Gothan City, how about that?" Hartley suggested solicitously and grabbed his laptop bag from the back seat before crossing onto the sidewalk next to Dick. "Don't ever apologize, I'm just sorry that memory was so bittersweet."

"Yeah, it - I think it was."

Thing is, though, after that memory, his eagerness to regain his memories was curbed, a little. He eyed the laptop, then managed a small smile.

"Thanks, but... how about we just get coffee and talk? I'm... we can probably do the research at the hotel? I'm just - I can use a bit of a break from remembering, if that's the kind of stuff it'll bring." He swallowed. "If that's all right."

It wasn't firm or commanding, of course. More like begging that, what, quarter of an hour of delay before he had to deal with more such flashbacks. Dick was just pretty much still reeling from this one. It hadn't been just visual remembering. The sense of loss had cut him deep, to the core. A breather was reasonable, right?

Piper didn't need to be a mind reader in order to read the emotional exhaustion in Dick's eyes.

"Of course," he reassured him and locked the laptop in the trunk before approaching Dick. "No more talk about memory stuff, I promise." Hartley smiled and reached out to grab Dick's hands so he could squeeze them comfortingly.

"I guess...we can talk about me instead while we drink our coffee."

"Well, maybe not so far as no more. But a break." Dick managed a small smile, a real one, and relaxed with the reassurance. With the action.

Then he hesitated for a moment, letting the smile deepen a little.

"Fine, but no talk about the things that make you worry, either. Mutual break."

"Of course," Hartley smiled back at him with gently warmth before leading Dick inside. The man behind the counter waved to them as they entered the cafe.

"Afternoon, Piper. You want your usual?"

"Yes, please." A curious glance was sent Dick's way. "You need a few minutes to decide what you want, Dick?"

"You're amazing." That's all he managed to slip in before they stepped inside. Well, if Hartley's cheeks ended up burning, it wouldn't be on purpose. Dick genuinely thought it.

He skimmed over the displayed menu, then fixed the guy with those blue eyes and asked, as though this was the most natural thing for him to do (and not a front put up a few minutes after he'd been ready to fall apart), "do you have anything that's close to a double frappuchino that thinks 'decaf' is a dirty word?"

"You're not too bad yourself." He murmured with a shy smile though for once, he didn't flush at that attention.

Piper surreptitiously watched Dick as he studied the menu with those stunningly beautiful blue eyes.

The man behind the counter laughed boisterously when Dick put in his order and shot Piper a conspiratorial grin. "I like this new friend of yours, Piper. Cute and he has good taste."

Now Hartley's ears were starting to go pink.

Dick's lips softened as he glanced at Hartley as they were coming inside. There were too many things that bothered him and nagged him about what they'd found, what he remembered, and what he couldn't, to accept any bigger compliment. But this one? This one was easy and casual and it warmed him through.

Enough that he smirked at the man behind the counter. "Thanks, but I thought you repeated yourself, you had it all at 'friend of Hartley's,' as far as the good taste part is concerned."

He spoke with a confidence as though he knew what he was talking about, rather than just improvising, except for the part where the affection was there, too.

Then he gave him a once over, and turned the smile back at the redhead beside him, suddenly acutely aware of the kiss from the parking lot... and how wanted more of the same was. "Anything you'll recommend to go with the coffee?"

"No, I am simply waiting for Piper to remember his manners and introduce me to the cute new friend he's made with impeccable taste in coffee and friends. You have no idea how much it hurts my heart when someone comes in here and asks for decaff. In my store."

Piper looked decidedly chagrined by this little byplay of theirs. "Antonio, this is Dick. Dick, this is Antonio."

Still, the man began to work on their drinks and the espresso machine hissed and brewed under his careful hands.

"Everything is good here. Seriously. Everything." Piper murmured aside to Dick.

The man behind the counter finished making their drinks and slid them across the counter towards them.

"Thanks, 'tonio, nice to meetcha! I think I'll have one of those triple-chocolate muffins, too."

Hmm. Dick waited until Antonio's attention was on the preparation, before murmuring back to Hartley, "I can share... the muffin. If you want some."

... he was getting some flirting of his own, did that work?

The older man looked both amused and a little embarrassed, so yes, it seems to have worked.

"I'm not a very big fan of chocolate though." Piper teased right back at him as the man behind the counter finished whipping up their drinks.

Piper moved automatically to pay for their purchase and shot Dick a questioning look. "Where would you like to sit?"

"No chocolate?" Dick tapped his chin thoughtfully. "What, then? And, mm. There?"

He pointed to a table by the window. And he meant to pay, but, after a moment, opted for not getting into that discussion just now. He didn't seem to be impoverished, at least; when he had the full story, he was going to pay Hartley back. Or treat him, which sounded like the more fun idea.

He picked up the order, ready to go, if the redhead didn't object to his choice.

"And thanks. Mmm, coffee."

"Well, my drink is cinnamon and salted caramel. It sounds a little crazy but it's really good." Hartley enjoyed the warming flavor of the cinnamon mixed with the sweet.

He looked in the direction Dick indicated and smiled. Piper hadn't even thought about it or the fact that Dick might have wanted to pay. On a subconscious level, he thought of the other man as his responsibility.

The redhead laughed quietly at the somewhat blissed expression on Dick's face. "Wow, you really like coffee, huh?"

"Oh, sounds completely delicious." If that was the drink he'd gotten now, Dick might give a brief look at it... but wouldn't presume to ask for a sip. He'd get it another time, maybe. "Though I was asking about treats that go with the coffee."

Now that they were out of the hospital and not moving, it didn't take long for Dick to get a little restless. Not the kind that meant his attention was straying (it wasn't, his eyes were focused in a way that split between the man across from him and the coffee), just an excess of energy finding its way out. Tapping toes. Fingers playing with the handle of his mug. That kind of a thing.

And he looked up with a wide grin, a lot of the uncertainty that went with not knowing melting away because of the simplicity of the question. "Feels like it's finally possible to catch up with the world. Besides, this is awesome stuff!"

His eyes crinkled briefly in the direction of Antonio, in gratitude, then returned to Hartley. "It shows, huh?"

For flyingg

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