Chapter 1: End of Beginning
written by ZeAwesomeBirdie; art by @lunarbeastsol
Now, Dick was splayed supine on the sticky floor behind the desk, his right foot at an impossible angle and caught underneath his left thigh, his breaths coming in congested gasps. The copper taste on his tongue told him that was his own blood trickling into his lungs. His vision blurred and his head swam when he tried to push himself upright; between his uncooperative arms and the fire in his ribs, he decided it would be wisest to lay still for another moment longer.
Someone else was inhaling deeply—albeit shakily—in the quiet of the office, their breaths that of someone performing an exercise in an effort to prevent their body from going into shock after an intense bout of activity. They took one last full breath, then their pained moan gave away their identity: that was Bruce, somewhere on the far side of the room. There was a rustle of the carpeting, a soft thump of a large hand on the edge of the desk, and another groan that set Dick’s poor heart racing again.
Bruce was injured, despite all of Dick’s efforts to protect him.
Bruce was injured, and Dick couldn’t do a single damned thing about it.
Chapters: 1/?
Pairing: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne; Gotham City/Wayne Manor
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warnings: Graphic Violence
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Great Depression; Alternate Universe - 1930s; Horror; Gore; Sentient Gotham City; Sentient Wayne Manor; Court of Owls; Magical Elements; Medical Inaccuracies; Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Up from the ashes, our lady will rise
Clearing the rain from our cold foggy skies
Tomorrow’s not given, but tonight she can’t die
Tonight our dear lady walks with us
Dick Grayson had a destiny. For eighteen long years, he trained under the guidance of his sponsors, pushing his mortal body to the limit and beyond in the hopes that one day, he, as well, could be among those who cared for the city that had raised him.
Bruce Wayne had a dream. For eighteen long years, he followed the progress of the orphan boy he hadn’t been able to save, coining the plan to help the city that gave him all he had.
And she... she dreamed, awaiting her incoming destiny. She had never been a damsel in a distress, no—she had been fighting tirelessly, with all she had—but still, she had grown weary…
And so, she waited in the gentle embrace of dreams.
@brudick-week day 6: Gothic Horror
