Beaten || Dick and Tim
Dick undid the safety on his Nightwing suit and hung it as carelessly as he dared.
After walking Barbara home, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, as exhausted as his body was. He'd been awake for far too long. Which was probably part of why his emotions were so extreme tonight. But he was sure it was mostly Barbara.
He'd gone out on patrol, told himself it was to clear his head, but he'd run into Jason. Which, admittedly, was partially intentional. Jason had noticed he wasn't his usual self and pulled his punches, which Dick resented him for. Dick needed the rough fight with Jason, and even though he was now sporting a black eye, two cracked ribs, and a sprained knee, it wasn't enough. His chest still felt like it was pushing outwards with an uncontrollable force and his heart felt like it was snapping into a million pieces.
So he threw on a T-shirt and sweats and limped to Tim's apartment. He was half-sure Tim would still be awake. Even if he wasn't, Dick was okay with just sitting with someone. Someone who wasn't Alfred or Bruce. Someone who wasn't going to tell him off for being an idiot--he'd already done that enough to himself.
