"He's done nothing but hurt you, Dick." Jason hissed. "Just look at yourself! You're covered in bruises and marks! If he really loved you he wouldn't hurt you like this, again and again and again."
Dick looked down at his chest, at the purple bruises that peaked out from the bandages wrapped around his ribs. He traced the edge of one of them with his finger, pressed at the colored flesh to really feel it.
"So what if he hurt me?" Dick asked quietly. "He held me tenderly every night, pressed me against his heart. He wrapped his arm around me, made sure I was safe. He pressed his lips against every bruise, like an apology, every night. How can you tell me he didn't love me, Jay? When you know nothing about him, nothing about what was between us."
Jason ran a hand through his hair, yanking at the strands in frustration.
"What I can see is telling me enough." He said. "He doesn't love you, Dick. He never did. He was just using you."
"That's not true!" Dick screamed, slaming his fists against the table separating them. "He loves me, you're just too blind to see it!"
"He doesn't! He was just using you for his own pleasure, he didn't give a shit about you and what you wanted! This isn't love, Dickie-"
"Get out!" Dick screamed, pulling away as far as the cuffs on his wrists allowed it. "Get out, get out, get out! You're lying, he loves me and you don't know anything!"
Jason sighed but obediently stood up, leaving the room without another word.
Dick curled into himself, as much as his restrains allowed him. He pressed his fingers onto the bruises again, onto the ones that wrapped around his neck like a collar.
Slade will get him out, soon, and he won't have to listen to any of those lies anymore.
