For [personal profile] flyingg

May. 20th, 2013 04:33 pm
hypnoticsong: (Sweet smiles)
[personal profile] hypnoticsong
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?

Date: 2013-05-24 09:52 pm (UTC)
flyingg: (Surprise (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
Which Dick probably would have gotten, if his mind wasn't working in sixteen directions at the same time, on lower power because, explosion.

He eyed the redhead over the hood of the car, then nodded, slightly. "Okay. That's good." Because, really, what else could he say?

There was no body in the trunk. There weren't weapons there, either, well, other than a couple of smooth black sticks. Unmarked. There was an extra suit, though, some random makeup, and an empty backpack which didn't exactly fit with the suits - the one here or the one he'd worn yesterday, but it looked comfortable, the straps a little worn.

And a thermos of yesterday's coffee.

"... is it bad that even this smells good to me?" Dick asked when he got to open and sniff that last one.

Date: 2013-05-25 12:38 am (UTC)
flyingg: (Trouble (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
Hartley kept most of it from his face, yes, but he din't exactly bother to correct his body language. Dick could see the disappointment in the way his shoulders fell, the slight tension in his spine. The sound of his voice.

So Dick moved, closer, shoulders touching. He couldn't figure out why the change. (The make-up did not in any way call up an image of a woman. It was just... there.)

After a moment of proximity, he managed a smile, too, his voice much stronger. "You're right, of course. But can we pick up coffee on the way to the hotel?"

Date: 2013-05-25 06:29 am (UTC)
flyingg: (Wonderment (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
Oblivious, still, to the cause of the shift in mood, Dick grinned... then met Piper's eyes and. The shadow, there.

The words left his lips, anyway, quiet and close. "You've got my mouth watering, Hartley."

Date: 2013-05-25 06:53 am (UTC)
flyingg: (In the light (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
Dick didn't pull back. In fact, his hand came up (the thermos was long ago restoppered and replaced in the trunk) to steady them both, at Hartley's waist (not below), and he kissed back, just as gently. His heart was beating a lot faster, suddenly, and when they leaned back, he made a show of considering it, even hummed quietly.

After a moment, he smiled. "Nope. Definitely don't hate you." And then he added, "at the very least I know I wasn't imagining things."

Without giving it too much of a thought, he pulled the slighter man closer, into a hug. Surprisingly steady for how he was, in fact. Even without remembering all things, he knew such a thing took courage, between men. And he was grateful (and wanted it, too, but...)

"Let's figure me out, and then we figure this out, too?"

It was, basically, not turning him down. But this was not the time, and the if you still want it goes unsaid.

Date: 2013-05-26 02:14 pm (UTC)
flyingg: (Smile profile (Nightwing))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
"Don't say that, it might get worse." For Dick, the hugging felt natural, as did the quip about the superstition. The cheek on his cheek? That felt amazing.

He smiled, eyes thoughtful. "Desperately may be a bit off the mark, but we can go with it. I want to know." He blinked. "I think... somebody's told me that my greatest weapon or asset is my mind. Can't use it right when I'm missing stuff, right?"

And, on that note, he shook his head. "I'm not driving. So... I'll take you up on that offer. But... just a sec."

Dick moved around Hartley, to get to the passenger seat and snag the papers - and card - for Dick Grayson. Whatever the reason for the other identities, he was going to stick with what he felt the most certain about. Then he bounced back (yes, sort of bounced) to Hartley, moving to close the trunk so he could lock the car.

"Lead on, oh Piper!"

No, Dick had not made the connection with Pied Piper, yet. But if he was going to tease, might as well use the other name that Hartley told him people called him by, right?

Date: 2013-05-26 08:11 pm (UTC)
flyingg: (Help me (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
To be fair, Dick didn't know, either. He was joking.

And he smiled into the touch, straightening up a bit. "Yeah, we do. And it wouldn't be nearly as good if I were on my own."

By the time he said what he did, he was definitely back, and in full sight of the man's face. His smile dropped, faded, and he blinked in confusion. That was so not the kind of reaction he was thinking of.

"Hartley?" Yeah, he wasn't using the other name again anytime soon. "You said people call you that, 'm sorry. I won't do it again."

It wasn't at all a kicked-puppy expression or apology. Just a sincere reaction to seeing he'd caused hurt, unwittingly. And he really meant not to repeat that.

Date: 2013-05-27 05:12 am (UTC)
flyingg: (Trouble (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
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.

Date: 2013-05-27 06:29 am (UTC)
flyingg: (Difficult (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
"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."

Date: 2013-05-28 09:44 pm (UTC)
flyingg: (Babs: Forehead kiss (Dick))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
"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."

Date: 2013-05-29 01:29 pm (UTC)
flyingg: (Yeah (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
"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?"

Date: 2013-05-29 08:10 pm (UTC)
flyingg: (Help me (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
"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."

Date: 2013-05-30 05:29 am (UTC)
flyingg: (It hurts (Alt))
From: [personal profile] flyingg
"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..."

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Hartley Rathaway | Pied Piper

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