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Listening to a xxxtentacion x linkin park mashup. On a road trip. It's cloudy, rainy, and very green (trees) outside. I'm curled in the backseat with kitty cat. Life is finally good.
Listening to a xxxtentacion x linkin park mashup. On a road trip. It's cloudy, rainy, and very green (trees) outside. I'm curled in the backseat with kitty cat. Life is finally good.
request reader who acts as a healer for the team, and their ability on paper [and seemingly in practice] is just that they can heal anybody, no matter the damage or cause, except their power actually works by stealing the wound and inflicting it upon themselves. they can take any pain, mental, chronic, sometimes even emotional depending on circumstances and the degree of it. no one knows until they take on something far too bad: losing a limb, breaking their spine, guts spilling out, etc.
content gn! reader x dick grayson, healer! reader, reader gets hurt, self-sacrificial healing, severe injury, fall injury, temporary paralysis/loss of mobility, blood, medical trauma, pain transfer, guilt, panic, near-death fear, angst with comfort
masterlist
word count 8.2k
Dick Grayson knew how to fall. Better than anyone, maybe.
There was an art to it. A language. A thousand tiny choices made in the narrow breath between losing the line and hitting the ground. Turn the shoulder. Tuck the chin. Roll through the impact. Trust the body. Trust the air. Trust the hands that had taught you how to fly before you were old enough to know that gravity was not mercy, only law.
Dick knew falling. He knew the split-second sweetness of empty space. The rush of wind against his face. The world turning around him in ribbons of light and shadow. He knew how to make falling look like flying, because that was what the Graysons did.
They fell beautifully.
Until they didnโt.
That was the first lesson.
The second was that someone always had to catch what was left.
Dick had built a life out of becoming that someone. He caught teammates before they hit concrete. Caught civilians before buildings collapsed. Caught the Titans when they spiralled, caught Bruce when he vanished too far inside the Bat, caught Jasonโs anger when nobody else could hold it without bleeding, caught Timโs exhaustion before it became a body bag, caught Damianโs sharp edges and pretended they did not cut.
He smiled. He joked. He opened his arms and made himself the net. It was easier that way.
People trusted nets. People did not ask if nets were tired.
You did, though.
That was one of the first things that unsettled him about you.
You always asked.
โShoulder?โ you said, appearing beside him before he had even fully made it through the medbay doors.
Dick looked down at the red line slicing through his suit, just under the joint. โHello to you too.โ
You raised an eyebrow. โIs it the shoulder?โ
โIt is deeply rude that you know that from ten feet away.โ
โItโs my entire thing.โ
โYour entire thing is being bossy and magical.โ
โMy entire thing is healing idiots who think flirting counts as a treatment plan.โ
He gasped and pressed his uninjured hand to his chest. โYou think Iโm flirting?โ
โI think youโre bleeding on my floor.โ
โThatโs not a no.โ
You gave him a look.
Dick smiled.
It was easy with you.
That was the problem. Most things with you felt easy, even when they werenโt. Even in the aftermath of horror, with sirens in the distance and smoke still clinging to everyoneโs suits, you had a way of lowering the temperature in a room. You came in with steady hands, soft eyes, and a voice like warm water over bruised skin.
You were the Titansโ miracle.
Not that you liked being called that. Gar had tried once, dramatically, from a medbay cot after you healed three cracked ribs and a bruised spleen.
โMy angel,โ he had declared, one hand thrown over his forehead. โMy saviour. My divine little first-aid kit.โ
You had thrown a roll of gauze at his head.
Vic had laughed for a full minute.
Kory had kissed your cheek in gratitude.
Raven had watched you with that quiet, knowing look of hers.
Dick had watched too. He watched more than he should have.
He watched the way your face tightened for half a second after you healed someone. The way you always turned slightly away before taking a breath. The way you flexed your fingers like you were shaking off static. The way you insisted on cleaning up alone afterwards.
At first, he thought healing took energy. That made sense. Every power had a cost. Every body had limits.
You told them yours was fatigue.
Dick believed you.
Not because he was careless.
Because he wanted to. Because after years of watching good people stay hurt, there was something dangerously addictive about watching wounds vanish under your hands.
When Raven came back from a mission with psychic backlash clawing through her mind, and you pressed your fingers to her temples until her breathing evened out, Dick did not ask why you spent the next hour sitting alone in the dark.
When Gar twisted his knee badly enough that the sound made everyone in the room wince, and you healed him before the panic really hit, Dick did not ask why you limped afterwards.
When Kory took a blast meant for a child, and her skin split gold-bright across her ribs, Dick did not ask why your own hand shook as you helped her sit up.
He noticed. But noticing was not knowing.
That was what he told himself later. Over and over. Like repetition could turn guilt into absolution.
He noticed. He just didnโt know.
Not yet.
The night everything changed began with rain.
Blรผdhaven rain was different from Gotham rain. Gotham rain fell like a verdict. Cold, black, heavy with memory. Blรผdhaven rain came down silver beneath neon signs, slicking the streets until every alley looked like it had been painted in oil. It turned rooftops treacherous, fire escapes slippery, windows into mirrors.
Dick loved it anyway.
It was his city. Bruised, stubborn, trying. A little ugly in the right light. A little beautiful in the wrong one.
The Titans had come because the call was too big for one vigilante and too strange for local police. A new metahuman trafficking ring had gotten its hands on alien tech and old magic, which was never a combination that suggested anyone involved had made good life choices.
By midnight, the docks were burning. By twelve-thirty, three warehouses had partially collapsed. By one, the sky above Blรผdhaven was full of drones shaped like metal wasps, each one armed with sonic emitters strong enough to rupture glass and destabilise inner ears.
โTell me again why crime canโt be normal,โ Gar shouted over comms.
Dick flipped over a drone, brought both escrima sticks down, and sent it sparking into the rain-slick rooftop. โYou want normal crime?โ
โI want crime that doesnโt make my teeth vibrate.โ
โYou have teeth right now?โ Vic asked.
โI have emotional teeth.โ
โThat tracks,โ you said over comms.
Dick smiled despite himself. Your voice always did that to him. Cut through the noise. Found him.
โYouโre supposed to be behind the barricade,โ he said, ducking under a burst of sonic fire.
โI am behind the barricade.โ
โYouโre too calm.โ
โIโm very calm behind the barricade.โ
Ravenโs voice came in, flat as ever. โThey are not behind the barricade.โ
Dick exhaled sharply. โOf course theyโre not.โ
โIโm near the barricade,โ you corrected.
Kory flew overhead, a streak of orange through the storm. โFriend healer, there are many injured civilians near the west warehouse.โ
โI see them.โ
Dickโs attention snapped toward the west side of the docks.
Through the rain, he saw you moving below.
Not at the barricade. Not near the barricade. Running straight toward the worst of the damage, because apparently, self-preservation was not included in the miracle package.
โAbsolutely not,โ Dick said.
โYou sound like Bruce.โ
โThat was cruel and unnecessary.โ
โYouโll live.โ
โNot if you keep sprinting into active combat zones.โ
โThen stop watching me and stop the drones.โ
A drone screamed toward you.
Dick moved before thought could catch up. He launched himself from the rooftop, grapple line firing, body arcing low through rain and smoke. The droneโs emitter pulsed once. Pain stabbed through his ears. His vision blurred.
He released the line. Dropped. Twisted.
His boot connected with the drone hard enough to crack the metal shell. It spun away and exploded against the side of a warehouse in a shower of blue sparks.
Dick landed in front of you, one knee down, rain streaming off his hair.
You stared at him.
He looked up with his best smile. โHi.โ
Your eyes narrowed. โThat was incredibly dramatic.โ
โIโm a performer.โ
โThat was incredibly stupid.โ
โIโm also Batman-adjacent.โ
โUnfortunately accurate.โ
Behind you, a civilian groaned.
Your expression shifted instantly.
There was the healer.
The softness vanished into focus. You moved past Dick and dropped beside a woman pinned beneath a collapsed beam. Her leg was crushed at an angle that made Dickโs stomach turn. Her breathing came in panicked sobs.
โHey,โ you said gently, all teasing gone. โLook at me. Not the leg. Me.โ
The woman grabbed your wrist with shaking fingers. โI canโtโI canโt feelโโ
โI know. Iโve got you.โ
Dick watched you place both hands over the injury.
He watched your shoulders rise as you inhaled.
Then the woman gasped.
The beam shifted. Dick lifted it enough for Vic to pull her free.
Her leg was whole. Bruised, but whole.
She started crying.
You smiled at her.
Then, very subtly, your left knee buckled.
Dick caught it.
Not much. Just one hand at your elbow, enough to steady you.
You went stiff beneath his touch.
โYou okay?โ he asked.
You smiled too quickly. โFine.โ
There it was. That word.
Dick hated it when Bruce used it. Hated it when Jason spat it through bloodied teeth. Hated it when Tim said it without looking up from a laptop.
He hated it most from you.
Because you made it sound kind.
Another drone shrieked overhead before he could say anything.
The docks trembled.
Ravenโs voice cut through comms. โNightwing, the central warehouse is rigged. There are people inside.โ
โHow many?โ
โToo many.โ
Dick looked up. The central warehouse stood at the edge of the pier, half its roof torn open, old brick walls glowing with intermittent blasts of alien-blue light. Through the broken windows, he saw movement.
Civilians. Hostages.
The structure groaned. Then the upper floor exploded outward.
Kory shouted. Dick ran.
You called his name.
He ignored you.
He heard you following anyway.
Of course he did.
Inside, the warehouse was chaos.
Smoke. Screaming. Sprinklers raining dirty water from cracked pipes. Drones buzzing between support beams like insects. Civilians huddled behind shipping containers while armed traffickers tried to retreat through a back exit.
Nightwing moved through them like a blade wrapped in blue light.
Strike. Dodge. Flip. Disarm. Smile, because fear spread faster when people saw the hero afraid.
โExit to the south!โ he shouted. โGo! Go now!โ
Kory blew a hole through a side wall for evacuation. Vic ripped open jammed doors. Raven shielded a group of children from falling debris. Gar, currently a gorilla, blocked a collapsing beam with both massive hands and yelled, โI would like everyone to appreciate my core strength!โ
You were everywhere you should not be. Healing a burned firefighter. Pressing a hand to a childโs forehead. Closing the wound across a police officerโs side. Calm, quick, relentless.
Too relentless.
Dick saw your face pale. He saw the way you pressed one hand briefly to your ribs after healing the officer.
Something in him tightened.
Then the floor screamed.
Not cracked.
Screamed.
The alien tech at the centre of the warehouse pulsed, drawing power from the old magical sigils carved beneath the concrete. The combination sent a shockwave through the building.
Every support beam lit blue.
Ravenโs shield shattered. Kory slammed into a wall. Gar lost his grip.
The ceiling began to come down.
Dick saw it happen in pieces.
A family trapped near the upper catwalk. A little boy separated from his mother. The metal walkway beneath them twisting loose.
No time for the grapple. No time for a plan.
Just the fall.
Dick launched himself upward, using a stack of containers as steps. His boots hit metal. His body moved on instinct, rainwater and smoke and adrenaline turning the world sharp.
He grabbed the boy first and tossed him toward Kory, trusting her to catch him.
She did. Of course she did.
The mother screamed as the catwalk tilted.
Dick caught her wrist.
For half a second, they hung there over open air.
โDonโt look down,โ he told her.
She looked down.
They always looked down.
A support cable snapped. The catwalk dropped. Dick twisted, threw the woman upward with everything he had, and felt Vicโs metal hand close around her coat.
Then the world gave way beneath him.
Falling was supposed to be familiar.
This was not.
The sonic emitters went off all at once.
His inner ear shattered into static. The building spun wrong. His grapple fired but missed the broken beam by inches. His fingers closed on nothing. His shoulder clipped metal hard enough to tear a shout from his throat.
Then he hit a lower catwalk.
Pain cracked across his back.
He bounced. Fell again.
He tried to turn. Tried to tuck.
Couldnโt.
There were too many angles. Too much debris. Too much noise.
The ground rushed up.
For the first time in years, Dick Grayson did not know how to fall.
He hit concrete.
And everything stopped.
At first, there was no pain.
That was how Dick knew it was bad. Pain was information. Pain told you what was damaged and how much time you had before the body started making executive decisions without you.
No pain meant the body had gone quiet. No pain meant the damage had passed language.
He stared up at the broken ceiling. Rain fell through the hole in the roof, silver and soft against his face.
Someone was screaming his name. Maybe several someones.
Dick tried to move.
Nothing happened.
Not his legs. Not his right hand. His chest moved, barely. Breath scraping in shallow and wrong.
Ah. That was bad.
A shadow fell over him.
You.
Your face appeared above his, wet with rain, streaked with soot, eyes wide with a terror that did not belong on you.
โDick,โ you said.
He tried to smile. He wasnโt sure if it worked.
โHey,โ he breathed.
It came out broken.
Your hands hovered over him, trembling.
That scared him more than the fall. You never trembled.
โDonโt move,โ you said.
โWasnโt planning on it.โ
Your face twisted.
Bad joke. Wrong moment. Classic Grayson.
He tried to lift his hand to touch your face.
Nothing.
Your eyes flicked down.
You saw.
He saw you see.
โTalk to me,โ you said.
โCanโt feelโฆโ
He stopped.
Your lips parted.
He did not want to finish the sentence.
He had spent his life moving. Flying. Running rooftops. Dancing along edges so narrow most people could not stand on them without shaking. His body was not just a tool. It was memory. Family. Language. A living echo of the Flying Graysons.
He could not feel half of it.
โDick,โ you whispered.
The building groaned around you. Distantly, Kory shouted for you both. Vic cursed. Ravenโs power surged dark and bright somewhere behind the smoke.
You cupped Dickโs face. Your hands were warm despite the rain.
โIโm here,โ you said.
He believed you. That was the danger.
โDonโt,โ he managed.
Your expression shifted.
He was not Bruce. He had not figured it out fully. Not yet. But something old and instinctive in him understood the shape of sacrifice when it leaned too close.
You had looked pale after healing people. You had limped after fixing Garโs knee. You had hidden your hand after Damian broke his wrist on a mission with the Supersons. You had smiled through it all.
โYouโre hurt,โ he said.
You shook your head. โYouโre dying.โ
โNo.โ
โYes.โ
โDonโt.โ
Your eyes filled. โDickโโ
โPlease.โ
That word hurt more than the fall. Please was not a word Nightwing used often in the field. Please belonged to civilians, to scared children, to moments too human for masks.
Your face broke. Only for a second.
Then you leaned down and pressed your forehead to his.
โIโm sorry,โ you whispered.
His heart lurched.
โNo,โ he said, or tried to.
Your hands slid beneath his shoulders.
And then the pain came.
Not his.
Yours.
He knew because it came with your scream. It tore through the warehouse, raw and animal and absolute.
Dickโs body snapped back into itself. Sensation flooded his legs. His fingers. His lungs. Pain, yes, but normal pain. Bruises. Strains. Things he knew how to name.
His spine straightened. His ribs expanded. His right hand clenched.
He gasped and rolled onto his side, coughing through smoke.
For one impossible second, relief hit him.
Then he saw you.
You were on the concrete beside him, twisted at the same angle he had been. Your back arched unnaturally. Blood spread beneath you. One of your legs lay still, too still. Your hand curled against the ground, fingers shaking like they were trying to remember how to move.
Your mouth opened. No sound came out.
Dickโs world narrowed.
โNo,โ he said.
It did not sound like him.
He crawled to you, hands skidding in water and blood.
โNo, no, no.โ
Your eyes found his.
You looked relieved. Relieved. Like seeing him move was worth what had happened to you.
Something terrible opened inside him.
โWhy would you do that?โ he choked.
Your lips moved.
He leaned closer.
โCaught you,โ you whispered.
Dick broke.
Not loudly. Not at first. The sound that left him was small. Fractured. A childโs sound buried under a manโs voice.
He gathered you into his arms with shaking hands, trying not to jostle your spine, trying not to touch anywhere wrong, trying not to look at the blood, the angle of your body, the proof.
The proof.
He had fallen. You had become the fall.
โKory!โ he screamed.
The name tore through his throat.
Orange light flashed.
Kory landed beside him hard enough to crack concrete. Her eyes went wide when she saw you.
โOh, beloved healer,โ she breathed.
Dick looked up at her, wild. โWe need medevac.โ
Vicโs voice came through comms, tight with horror. โAlready calling it.โ
Raven appeared from the smoke, her hood torn, shadows curling violently around her.
She looked at you. Then at Dick.
Her expression went white.
Not pale.
White. Like she had felt something nobody else could.
โShe took it,โ Raven whispered.
Dick stared at her. โWhat?โ
Ravenโs voice shook. โThe injury. She took it from you.โ
The warehouse seemed to tilt.
No. No, he knew that. He had seen it. He had felt his body become whole as yours broke.
But hearing it made it real in a way his mind had been refusing to allow.
Gar, shifted back into human form, stumbled toward them. โWhat do you mean took it?โ
Raven swallowed. โTheir power doesnโt erase wounds.โ
Dick looked down at you.
Your eyes were half-closed now.
No.
No.
No.
โIt transfers them,โ Raven said.
No one spoke. Even the burning warehouse seemed to go quiet.
Dick pressed his fingers to your throat.
Pulse there.
Fast. Weak. Too weak.
โStay with me,โ he said, voice shaking. โHey. Look at me. Come on, look at me.โ
Your eyelids fluttered.
He smiled because he did not know how to do anything else with terror.
โThere you are,โ he whispered. โStay with me, okay? Iโve got you.โ
Your lips twitched faintly.
โNet,โ you breathed.
โWhat?โ
โYouโreโฆ always the net.โ
Dickโs vision blurred.
โYeah,โ he said, voice breaking. โYeah, baby. Iโm the net. So you donโt get to fall through. You hear me?โ
Your eyes closed.
Dickโs smile vanished. โNo. No, no. Open your eyes. Open your eyes.โ
Kory knelt beside him and placed one glowing hand carefully against your shoulder, not healing, not touching the wound, just there.
โDick,โ she said softly.
He shook his head. โTheyโre not dying.โ
โNo,โ Kory agreed, though her voice trembled. โThey are not.โ
Dick looked down at you in his arms.
He had caught you.
Too late.
But he had caught you.
And he would not let go.
Titan Towerโs medbay had seen bad nights.
This was worse.
The room was full of people trying not to fall apart loudly.
Kory stood by the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her glow dimmed to a low, anxious pulse beneath her skin. Gar sat on the floor with his back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest. Vic kept running diagnostics, jaw clenched, his human eye red. Raven stood in the corner with her hood up, shadows tucked close around her like grief with teeth.
Dick sat beside your bed and held your hand.
He had been told to leave twice.
He had not.
The first time, a nurse tried gentle concern.
The second time, Donna tried command voice.
Neither worked.
Finally, Raven had looked at everyone and said, โLet him stay.โ
So he stayed.
You lay still beneath white sheets and too many wires, your body strapped carefully to prevent movement. Spinal stabilizers ran along your back. An oxygen line curved beneath your nose. Your face looked wrong without expression. Too empty. Too quiet.
Dick kept staring at your mouth. Waiting for it to quirk. Waiting for you to make a joke about his bedside manner. Waiting for you to open your eyes and call him dramatic.
His suit was still on. Torn, wet, stained with your blood and his own, though technically the blood was all yours now in the ways that mattered. Someone had thrown a blanket over his shoulders.
Probably Kory. Maybe Donna.
He did not remember.
He remembered your scream. He remembered your body twisting. He remembered Raven saying, It transfers them.
His hand tightened around yours. Your fingers did not move.
โDick.โ
Donnaโs voice came from the doorway.
He did not look up.
โHow long?โ he asked.
She was quiet for a second. โThe doctors donโt know.โ
He nodded once.
Meaningless.
His gaze stayed on your face.
Donna came closer. โThey said the injury may not behave like a normal spinal trauma. Their body processes transferred wounds differently.โ
โMay,โ Dick repeated.
โYes.โ
โMay not.โ
โYes.โ
He laughed once. It was ugly.
Donnaโs hand settled on his shoulder.
That almost undid him.
Dick bowed his head over your hand.
โI should have known,โ he said.
Donna did not answer.
He hated her for that. Loved her for it too.
โI noticed things,โ he continued, voice low. โAfter they healed people. I noticed.โ
โDick.โ
โI noticed and I let it go.โ
โYou didnโt know.โ
โI should have.โ
Donna squeezed his shoulder. โThat is Bruce talking.โ
His head snapped up.
She looked at him steadily.
โYou are allowed to be hurt without making guilt useful,โ she said.
Dick stared at her.
Then he looked back at you.
โUseful is all Iโve got right now.โ
Donnaโs expression softened.
Behind them, Gar made a broken sound.
โI let them heal me last week,โ he said.
Everyone looked at him.
He stared at the floor. โMy knee. It was nothing. Like, yeah, it hurt, but it wasnโtโโ His voice cracked. โIt wasnโt worth that.โ
Raven closed her eyes. Kory turned away sharply.
Vicโs metal hand curled into a fist. โThey healed my neural interface after Psimon fried half my systems.โ
โThey helped me after Trigon,โ Raven said quietly.
Silence fell.
Not empty.
Crowded.
Every person in the room was remembering.
Every hand you had held. Every wound you had closed. Every time you had smiled afterward and said you were tired.
Only tired.
Dick felt sick.
Not because you had lied.
Because all of them had been relieved enough to believe you.
The door opened again.
Clark Kent stepped in, rain-dark hair mussed, glasses absent, Superman suit visible beneath a jacket he had clearly thrown on in a hurry.
He looked around the room once. Then at you.
His face changed.
โOh,โ he said softly.
That was all.
Just oh.
Dick wanted to stand. Wanted to say something. Wanted to be Nightwing, team leader, eldest brother, person who knew how to make everyone breathe again.
He couldnโt.
Clark came to the other side of your bed.
โI came as soon as I heard,โ he said.
Dick nodded.
Clarkโs eyes lowered to your still hand in Dickโs grip.
โThey healed me yesterday,โ Clark said.
Dickโs breath caught.
โKryptonite burn,โ Clark continued quietly. โThey looked pale afterwards. Bruce noticed. He told them to rest.โ
A horrible laugh escaped Dick. โOf course he did.โ
Clark looked at him with infinite gentleness. โBruce didnโt know either.โ
Dick shut his eyes.
He could imagine Bruce finding out. The silence. The rage. The way he would turn terror into protocols and guilt into surveillance. The way he would blame himself first, hardest, longest.
Dick had learned from the best. Unfortunately.
โCan you hear anything?โ Dick asked.
Clarkโs face tightened.
Heartbeats. That was what Dick meant.
Clark nodded. โTheir heart is steady for now.โ
For now.
The phrase lodged under Dickโs ribs.
He looked down at you.
โGood,โ he said, like the word had weight, like saying it could make it true. โThatโs good.โ
Clark stayed for a while.
So did everyone else.
One by one, though, they drifted out. Not far. Never far. Titans did not abandon their own. They lingered in hallways, in waiting rooms, in corners with vending machine coffee and red-rimmed eyes.
Eventually, only Dick remained.
He was good at vigils. He hated that too.
Hours passed in monitor beeps and the low hum of machines.
Your hand was warm in his.
That became his whole world.
Warm meant alive. Warm meant here. Warm meant not yet.
Near dawn, your fingers twitched.
Dick nearly came out of his chair.
โHey,โ he said, leaning forward. โHey, Iโm here.โ
Your eyelids fluttered.
He forgot how to breathe.
Then your eyes opened. Unfocused at first. Cloudy with pain and medication.
Then they found him.
You smiled. Barely.
It devastated him.
โHi, pretty bird,โ you rasped.
Dick made a sound between a laugh and a sob.
โYouโre not allowed to be charming right now,โ he said.
Your brow furrowed faintly. โMโdying?โ
โNo.โ
โThen Iโm allowed.โ
His mouth trembled.
You blinked slowly, gaze shifting around the room. โTower?โ
โYeah.โ
โEveryone okay?โ
There it was. First question.
Not, Am I okay? Not, What happened?
Everyone.
Dick had never loved and hated anything more.
He leaned closer.
โNo,โ he said.
Your eyes came back to him.
โTheyโre not okay. Iโm not okay. You scared the hell out of us.โ
Your expression shifted with slow understanding.
Then memory returned.
He watched it happen.
The warehouse. The fall. The choice.
Your eyes filled. โDickโโ
โNo.โ His voice cracked. He swallowed hard and tried again. โNo, donโt. Donโt say youโre sorry. Donโt make it easier. Please donโt make it easier.โ
You went quiet.
He pressed your hand to his forehead.
His shoulders shook once. Only once.
โI watched you become the fall,โ he whispered.
Your breath hitched.
โYou wereโโ He stopped, unable to finish. โYou were on the ground. Like me. Because of me.โ
โNot because of you.โ
โYou took my injury.โ
โYes.โ
The honesty punched the air out of him.
No deflection. No lie. No, Iโm fine.
Just yes.
Dick lifted his head. His eyes burned.
โHow long?โ
Your gaze slid away.
His stomach dropped. โHow long have you been doing that?โ
You were quiet.
Too quiet.
Dick understood before you answered.
โAll of it?โ he asked.
Your mouth trembled.
โMost of it,โ you whispered.
Dick stood so fast the chair slammed backward.
You flinched.
He froze immediately.
Regret flashed through him.
โIโm sorry,โ he said. โIโm sorry, I didnโtโโ
โItโs okay.โ
โNo, itโs not.โ He pushed both hands through his hair and turned away, pacing once before spinning back to you. โItโs not okay. None of this is okay.โ
Your face had gone pale.
He forced himself to lower his voice. โYou took Garโs knee.โ
There was something old in them then. Older than your face. Older than your smile.
โI heal faster than most people.โ
โThat is not an answer.โ
โItโs the only one I have.โ
โThat sounds like something Bruce would say.โ
A weak breath of laughter escaped you.
Dick did not smile.
The laugh died.
โI didnโt want you to know,โ you said.
โNo kidding.โ
โDick.โ
His name in your voice hurt.
He came back to the chair slowly and sat down because standing made him want to run through walls.
You turned your head toward him.
The movement was tiny. It still cost you. He saw the pain ripple over your face.
โDonโt,โ he said quickly.
You stilled.
He hated this. He hated all of it. The bed. The machines. Your body trapped under injury. His body whole because yours wasnโt.
โI need to know why,โ he said.
โYou know why.โ
โNo.โ His voice came out sharper than intended. โNo, I really donโt.โ
Your eyes searched his face.
He let you see it. All of it. The fear. The anger. The betrayal. The love he had been carrying like a secret too fragile to name.
You looked away first.
โI didnโt want anyone to choose pain,โ you said.
Dick stared at you.
โEveryone I work with is the same,โ you continued. โThe League. The Titans. The Outlaws. All of you. If I told you what healing costs me, youโd refuse unless you were unconscious or dying. Maybe even then.โ
โYes,โ Dick said. โBecause weโre not monsters.โ
โYouโre martyrs.โ
He went still.
You looked back at him. Softly, exhaustedly furious.
โYou are,โ you said. โEvery single one of you. Youโd let yourselves bleed out if it meant I didnโt have to feel it. Youโd call that noble. I call it stupid.โ
Dick let out a stunned laugh. โYou cannot be serious right now.โ
โI am extremely serious.โ
โYou are lying in a medbay because you took a broken spine from me.โ
โAnd Iโd do it again.โ
The room went silent.
Dickโs face crumpled before he could stop it.
You saw. Of course you saw.
Regret passed over your features.
โDickโโ
โNo.โ He shook his head. โNo, donโt say that.โ
โI canโt lie to you anymore.โ
โThatโs not fair.โ
โI know.โ
โYou donโt get to almost die for me and then tell me youโd do it again.โ
โI love you.โ
Dick stopped. Everything stopped.
The monitors kept beeping. Somewhere outside, someone walked down the hall. Rain tapped lightly against the Tower windows.
But inside Dick, every moving part went still.
You looked terrified now.
Not of death.
Of him. Of what he would do with the truth.
Your eyes glistened.
โI love you,โ you said again, voice breaking. โAnd I know thatโs not an excuse. I know it doesnโt make lying okay. I know it doesnโt make taking the choice away okay. But itโs the reason.โ
Dick could not move. He had imagined hearing those words from you more times than he would ever admit. Usually in softer places. A kitchen at two in the morning. His apartment. A rooftop under a kinder sky. Your hand in his, your smile warm enough to make the world feel less like a thing that constantly needed saving.
Not here. Not with your spine braced. Not with your blood still dried under his fingernails.
โYou canโt say that,โ he whispered.
Your face went blank.
Dick realised what it sounded like and reached for you immediately.
โNo. No, thatโs notโโ He sat on the edge of the chair, one hand hovering near yours. โThatโs not what I mean.โ
You looked at his hand.
He waited.
This time, he waited.
After a moment, you moved your fingers weakly toward him.
Permission.
Dick took your hand like it was made of light.
โYou canโt say you love me like that,โ he said, voice shaking. โLike it means your life is automatically worth less than mine.โ
Your eyes filled again. โI donโt think that.โ
โYou do.โ
โI donโt.โ
โYou do,โ he said, gentler now. โBecause I know that trick. I invented that trick. I perfected that trick. I have a whole family of emotionally repressed vigilantes who could give a TED Talk on that trick.โ
A watery laugh escaped you.
Dickโs thumb moved over your knuckles.
โI know what it looks like when someone calls self-destruction devotion,โ he said.
Your smile faded.
He swallowed hard. โI know because I do it all the time.โ
You looked at him for a long moment.
Then you whispered, โYeah.โ
He laughed once, and this time it was almost real. โRude.โ
โAccurate.โ
โStill rude.โ
Your fingers twitched against his palm.
He lowered his head until his forehead rested against your hand.
โI love you too,โ he whispered.
Your breath caught.
He held onto you tighter.
โI love you,โ he said again, because now that the words were out, he could not bear to let them stand alone. โI love you so much I donโt know what to do with it. And I am so angry at you that I can barely breathe.โ
You made a small sound.
He lifted his head.
โIโm sorry,โ you whispered.
โI know.โ
โI didnโt mean to hurt you.โ
โI know.โ
โI only wanted you alive.โ
His face twisted.
โI know,โ he said.
That was the worst part. He knew.
There was no cruelty in what you had done. No malice. No carelessness.
Only love. Misdirected. Secretive. Devastating love. The kind that looked too much like his own.
Dick leaned forward and pressed his lips to your knuckles.
Your eyes closed.
He stayed there.
When he spoke again, his voice was softer.
โWe have to tell everyone.โ
Your eyes opened. Fear flickered.
โThey already know some of it,โ he continued. โRaven felt it. She told us what happened.โ
You looked toward the door.
Dick followed your gaze.
Through the small window, shadows moved in the hallway.
The Titans.
Waiting. Hurting. Loving you.
Your mouth trembled. โTheyโre going to hate me.โ
Dick shook his head immediately. โNo.โ
โThey should.โ
โNo.โ
โI lied to them.โ
โYeah,โ he said. โAnd theyโre going to be upset. Theyโre going to be scared. Gar is probably going to cry on you, so prepare emotionally for dampness.โ
Despite everything, your lips twitched.
โVic is going to pretend heโs fine and then build you seventeen medical devices,โ Dick continued. โRaven is going to stare into your soul until you confess every symptom youโve ever hidden. Kory might actually lift a car.โ
โShe wouldnโt.โ
โShe might. For emphasis.โ
Your smile faded, but some of the terror went with it.
โAnd you?โ you asked.
Dick breathed in.
โIโm going to stay mad for a while,โ he admitted.
You nodded.
โBut Iโm also going to stay.โ
Your face cracked open.
He leaned closer.
โIโm not leaving because this is hard,โ he said. โIโm not leaving because you scared me. Iโm not leaving because you made a bad choice trying to save me.โ
Your eyes searched his.
โI need you to promise me something,โ he said.
โDickโฆโ
โNo secret healing. Not with us. Not anymore.โ
Your jaw tightened. โEmergency circumstancesโโ
โWeโll define them.โ
โYou sound like Batman.โ
โI know. Iโm devastated too.โ
A weak laugh.
His heart nearly buckled under the sound.
โI mean it,โ he said. โYou have to tell people what theyโre agreeing to.โ
You looked down. โI know.โ
โAnd you have to let us take care of you afterwards.โ
โThatโs harder.โ
โI know.โ
โIโm bad at it.โ
โBaby, you are catastrophically bad at it.โ
You huffed.
He smiled faintly, then sobered. โBut weโre going to practice.โ
โWe?โ
โYeah.โ His thumb brushed your hand. โWe.โ
Your eyes glistened.
โOkay,โ you whispered.
It was not enough.
But it was a beginning.
Dick could work with beginnings.
He was a circus kid. A vigilante. A Robin. A Nightwing. A man who had lost the ground and learned to trust the air anyway.
Beginnings were just another kind of leap.
The Titans entered one at a time. Gar cried first, obviously. He tried very hard not to, which made it worse. He stood beside your bed with his arms crossed, lower lip trembling, eyes too bright.
โIโm mad at you,โ he said.
Your face softened. โI know.โ
โIโm, like, really mad.โ
โI know.โ
โAnd sad. And mad. And also really glad youโre not dead, which is making the mad part complicated.โ
โThat sounds complicated.โ
โIt is.โ His voice cracked. โYou took my knee.โ
Your eyes lowered.
Gar wiped his face with his sleeve. โIt was just my knee.โ
โGarโฆโ
โNo, it was. It hurt, yeah, but I wouldโve been fine. It wasnโt worth you hurting.โ
You looked at Dick. He said nothing.
This was yours to answer.
You swallowed.
โAt the time,โ you said carefully, โit felt worth it to me.โ
Gar looked stricken.
โI know that doesnโt make it okay,โ you added quickly. โI know I should have told you. Iโm sorry.โ
Gar sniffled. Then he leaned down very carefully and hugged the top of your head.
Dick almost told him to be careful.
He did not.
You closed your eyes.
Gar whispered, โYouโre not allowed to die. I already decided.โ
โOkay,โ you whispered back.
โCool.โ
Then he backed away, crying harder.
Vic came next.
He did not cry. He brought a tablet.
โIโve got three ideas,โ he said, voice too controlled, โfor a biofeedback system that can warn before a transfer exceeds safe neurological load.โ
โI wouldโve let you help,โ he said quietly. โSometimes. Maybe. But I wouldโve wanted to know when helping me hurt you.โ
Your eyes filled again.
โI know,โ you whispered.
Vic nodded once.
Then he set the tablet on your bedside table like an offering.
Raven came after him.
She stood beside your bed, silent and pale, shadows moving slowly around her wrists.
You looked nervous.
Raven looked at you for a long time.
Then she said, โYou took more than injuries.โ
Your face went still.
Dickโs attention sharpened.
Ravenโs eyes did not leave yours. โEmotional pain too. Psychic pain. Fear. Grief.โ
You swallowed.
โSometimes,โ you said.
Dick felt like the floor had dropped again.
Of course. Of course there was more.
Ravenโs expression tightened. โMine?โ
You closed your eyes. The silence answered.
Raven inhaled sharply.
Dick started to reach for her, but she lifted one hand.
You opened your eyes. โOnly when it was too much. Only when I thoughtโโ
โThat I couldnโt survive it?โ Raven asked.
You flinched.
Raven looked away.
For a moment, she was very young.
Then she stepped closer and placed two fingers lightly against your hand.
โI understand why,โ Raven said. Your tears spilled over. โBut do not do it again without asking me.โ
โI wonโt,โ you whispered.
Raven nodded.
Then, after a pause, she added, โYou are loved for more than your usefulness.โ
You broke then. Quietly. Completely.
Dick stood, but Raven was already there, leaning carefully over you, touching your forehead with hers.
Not a hug. Not exactly.
Something quieter. Something sacred.
Kory came last.
She tried to be gentle.
Koryโs gentleness had always been a force of nature trying to fit through a doorway.
Her eyes shone bright green as she took your hand.
โMy beloved friend,โ she said, voice trembling, โyou have carried pain alone when you had an army.โ
You gave a wet laugh. โWhen you say it like that, it sounds very stupid.โ
โIt was,โ Kory said.
Everyone blinked.
Koryโs chin lifted. โIt was brave. It was loving. It was also stupid.โ
Gar made a tiny sound. โShe said the thing.โ
Kory ignored him.
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
โYou will not do this alone again,โ she said.
You nodded, crying too hard to speak.
Dick watched them surround you.
Not crowding. Not demanding.
Just there. A net, woven from people who loved you enough to be angry.
For the first time since the warehouse, something inside him loosened.
Not healed. Not yet.
But held.
Recovery was slow. Not as slow as normal spinal trauma, because your body was strange and stubborn and apparently determined to give medical science a migraine.
But not fast either.
Feeling returned in fragments. Left foot. Right toes. Thighs. Hips. Pain followed each return like lightning learning your name.
You hated it.
Dick loved every sign because it meant you were still there, still fighting, still coming back.
He also hated it because every gasp from you felt like punishment.
He spent most days at your bedside.
At first, he tried to make himself useful. He brought food. Adjusted pillows. Read medical updates. Ran interference when too many worried heroes wanted to visit. Smuggled in snacks Alfred absolutely did not approve of but definitely knew about because Alfred knew everything and permitted crimes selectively.
Then you caught him reorganising the medbay supply cabinet at three in the morning.
โDick.โ
He froze with a roll of bandages in each hand.
You stared at him from the bed, unimpressed. โWhat are you doing?โ
โInventory.โ
โThis is not your medbay.โ
โOrganisation helps.โ
โYou alphabetised antiseptic.โ
โAntiseptic deserves respect.โ
โYou need sleep.โ
โSo do you.โ
โI was asleep until you started stress-cleaning gauze.โ
He looked down at the bandages. Then back at you.
โYou were in pain.โ
Your expression softened.
He hated how easily you saw through him.
โIโm often in pain right now,โ you said gently.
His hands tightened.
โDonโt do that,โ you said.
โDo what?โ
โMake my pain your failure.โ
He laughed once, humourless. โKind of hard not to, considering.โ
โDick.โ
He looked away.
You sighed. โCome here.โ
He put the bandages down and came to your bedside.
You patted the edge of the mattress.
He gave you a look. โAbsolutely not.โ
โSit.โ
โI could hurt you.โ
โYou wonโt.โ
โIโm not risking your spine because you want cuddles.โ
โI do want cuddles.โ
His expression flickered.
You smiled faintly. โThat one got you.โ
โCruel.โ
โEffective.โ
He compromised by dragging the chair close enough that his knees touched the bed. You reached for him, and he gave you his hand.
It had become familiar now. His hand in yours. Your pulse under his fingers. Your life, stubborn and warm.
โYouโre doing the thing,โ you said.
โWhat thing?โ
โThe smile.โ
Dick blinked. โIโm not smiling.โ
โThe inside smile. The fake one. The one that says, โIโm fine, donโt look too closely, Iโm very handsome and emotionally functional.โโ
He stared at you. โYou think Iโm handsome?โ
โYou heard the rest.โ
โI prioritised.โ
Your mouth twitched.
Dickโs smile came easier this time. Realer.
Then it faded.
โI donโt know how to stop seeing it,โ he admitted.
Your thumb moved weakly against his hand.
โThe fall?โ you asked.
He nodded.
Your face gentled.
โWhen I close my eyes,โ he said, voice low, โI see you on the floor.โ
โIโm sorry.โ
โNo.โ He leaned forward. โIโm not telling you so you apologise. Iโm telling you because we said no more hiding.โ
You absorbed that.
Then nodded slowly.
โOkay,โ you whispered. โNo more hiding.โ
His throat tightened.
You looked down at your joined hands.
โI still feel it sometimes,โ you said.
Dick went still.
โThe fall,โ you clarified. โNot the full injury anymore. But echoes. Like my body remembers impact that wasnโt mine.โ
Dick could not speak.
You continued, because apparently both of you had chosen emotional destruction as a bonding activity.
โI donโt regret saving you.โ He closed his eyes. โBut Iโm starting to understand that not regretting it doesnโt mean it didnโt hurt you.โ
His eyes opened.
You looked at him, open and tired and honest. โIโm sorry for that part.โ
Dick breathed in carefully.
Then out.
โI donโt regret being alive,โ he said.
Your lips parted.
โI need you to know that. I donโt regret it. I donโt wish you hadnโt saved me if the alternative was dying in that warehouse.โ
Your eyes filled.
โBut I hate that you paid for it alone,โ he continued. โI hate that I didnโt get to say yes. I hate that you thought love meant making yourself the place pain goes to disappear.โ
You nodded, tears spilling silently.
โIโm learning,โ you whispered.
He kissed your hand. โMe too.โ
You studied him. โWhat are you learning?โ
Dick huffed softly. โThat apparently I have control issues.โ
Your brows rose.ย
โI know. Shocking. Alert the media.โ
โFront-page news.โ
โAnd,โ he continued, โthat being the net all the time is not actually the same as being loved.โ
Your expression changed.
He swallowed. โI think I liked being needed because it felt safer than being wanted.โ
You went very still.
Dick looked down at your hand.
โIf people need you, you have a job. A role. Something to do. Something to offer. You can earn your place over and over.โ His mouth twisted. โBut being wanted? Just because youโre you? Thatโs terrifying.โ
Your voice was soft. โYeah.โ
He looked up. Your eyes were wet.
โI know,โ you said.
And there it was.
The mirror. Two people who had made themselves useful enough to avoid asking if they were loved.
Dick smiled sadly. โWeโre a pair, huh?โ
โA disastrous one.โ
โHot.โ
You laughed. This time, it did not sound broken.
Dick felt the laugh settle into his chest like sunrise.
He leaned closer, giving you time to refuse.
You did not.
His lips touched yours softly. Carefully.
There was nothing dramatic about it. No collapsing warehouse. No blue fire. No scream. Just his hand in yours, your mouth warm beneath his, and the quiet, astonishing fact that you were both still alive.
When he pulled back, your eyes were closed.
โWas that okay?โ he asked.
Your eyes opened slowly. โYouโre asking after?โ
โI panicked.โ
โAdorable.โ
โI can do better.โ
โI know.โ
He smiled.
You tugged weakly at his hand. โAgain.โ
This time, he laughed before kissing you.
The first time you stood again, everyone cried.
Gar denied it. He was lying.
Vic recorded the whole thing and claimed it was for medical documentation. Also lying.
Kory hovered with both hands out like she intended to catch you, the bed, Dick, and possibly the entire Tower if necessary. Raven stood nearby, pretending calm while her shadows formed nervous little curls at her feet.
Dick stood in front of you.
Not behind. Not beside.
In front, hands open.
A net. But not the only one.
โYouโve got this,โ he said.
You glared at him. โIf I fall, Iโm haunting you.โ
โReasonable.โ
โAs a poltergeist.โ
โMean, but fair.โ
โIโll move all your cereal into different boxes.โ
Gar gasped. โThatโs evil.โ
โI contain multitudes.โ
Dickโs grin trembled.
You saw. Your expression softened.
โHey,โ you said quietly. He focused on you. โIโm here.โ
He nodded.
โYeah,โ he whispered. โYou are.โ
You took one step. Your knees shook.
Dick did not grab you. It took everything in him. Every instinct screamed. Every memory of your body broken on concrete rose up sharp and hungry.
But he did not grab you. He let you choose the step. Let you own the balance. Let you move.
You took another.
Then another.
Then your strength failed.
Dick caught you.
So did Kory.
So did Vic.
Ravenโs shadows braced your legs.
Gar cheered and cried openly this time.
You ended up laughing against Dickโs chest while everyone crowded in, careful and loud and ridiculous.
The pain had gone somewhere. The fear had too.
Not away. Never fully away.
But spread out. Held by more hands.
That was the secret none of you had known at first.
Pain did not become lighter because one person carried all of it.
It became survivable when everyone carried a piece.
Later, after the others left and you were back in bed, exhausted but smiling, Dick sat beside you and traced idle circles over your palm.
โYou caught me,โ you said.
He looked up.
โIn the warehouse,โ you continued. โAfter.โ
His face sobered. โI was too late.โ
โNo.โ You squeezed his hand. โYou caught me.โ
Dick swallowed hard.
โYou caught me too,โ he said.
Your smile faded into something tender. โI broke all your rules when I did.โ
โYeah.โ
โIโm trying not to romanticise that.โ
โGood.โ
โBut I did catch you.โ
His mouth curved despite himself.
โYeah,โ he whispered. โYou did.โ
You looked at him in the soft medbay light. โNow what?โ
Dick leaned back in his chair, still holding your hand. โNow we learn how to do the next part without almost dying.โ
โSounds improbable.โ
โWe can try.โ
โAre there snacks?โ
โDefinitely.โ
โThen Iโm in.โ
He laughed.
There it was again. That bright thing. That impossible thing.
Joy, growing stubbornly in the aftermath.
Dick Grayson still knew how to fall. He always would. But now, when he looked at you, when he felt your fingers threaded through his, when he remembered the warehouse and the scream and the terrible miracle of being saved, he understood something he had spent his whole life avoiding.
Catching someone did not mean never falling. Being loved did not mean never hitting the ground.
Sometimes love was the hand reaching down afterwards. Sometimes it was the person who stayed through recovery. Sometimes it was telling the truth when the lie would be easier. Sometimes it was a whole team gathered around a bed, furious and crying and refusing to let one person become the only place pain could live.
And sometimes, impossibly, it was you.
Alive. Healing. Learning. Smiling at him like the world was still worth saving.
Dick lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles.
โI love you,โ he said.
Your eyes softened. โI love you too, pretty bird.โ
His heart stumbled. โStill not over that nickname.โ
โYou love it.โ
โI do.โ
You smiled wider.
Outside the Tower windows, Blรผdhaven glittered beneath the rain.
Screaming crying throwing up I cannot. He is so wracked with grief. Consumed by self-loathing. He should not be allowed to go roof swinging under these conditions lol.
I canโt help but imagine this is what Dick thought when some mfer told him he had a lot of negative self-talk and confidence issues, and it would be good to have grounding affirmations to empower him.
Dick, hearing this, immediately draws the power -> responsibility -> failure connection and is like โah Iโll just have a mantra of all those people I accidentally killed with all of that misplaced power ๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธโ
him cumming too soon the first time you give him a handjob after being married because he looks at the big shiny ring on your finger and remembers youโre his wife
Content Warnings: major character death, graphic depictions of violence, angst, trauma, psychological trauma, codependency, soul erosion, grief, non-graphic sexual acts, gothic horror, psychological horror, tragedy, second person pov.
Word Count: 1,214. Read it on AO3.
Dividers by @dollywons โก
There is something wrong with the Winchesters. Something very wrong.
You'd die for them. You'd live for them. You kill for them. But when you glance at them from the corner of your eye...
The edges are blurred. There's something missing. Something hollow. How many times can you die before it eats at you? At your being? Your soul?
They're fine. They really areโthey insist upon it. Why would you doubt them, don't you see they're fine? They do the same things they've always done. Hunt. Kill. Save. Dean drinks beer, watches old movies, takes care of Baby. Sam makes shitty smoothies, goes on runs every morning, reads books like he can't breathe without them. Like they'll save him. Tether him. Tether them.
You've stopped hunting alone. Stuck with them instead. You even have a room at the Bunkerโnot that it ever stops you from slipping into bed with one of them.
The nightmares persist. They swallow it all. Maybe you will, too.
Still, when you lean in to give one of them a hug... it's like you're grasping at smoke. Even when you press yourself close enough, as if to become one.
Some days, the edges blur worse. Violently. When grief sits on their chests and begins to strangle them.
You reach for them. Their eyes glaze over. You step back, heart hammering. They're not whole. It terrifies you now.
You remember a time, months ago, when Dean laughed at something stupid on TVโa real, full-bodied laugh that shook his shoulders and made his eyes crinkle. The sound was so solid it filled the whole room. Now, when he laughs, itโs thin. A papery sound. You find yourself holding your breath, waiting for it to tear.
The guy at the bar likes you. Wants you. You think he's kind of cute. But as soon as he steps in, you flee. He doesn't blur. Not like home does.
There's something wrong with Mary.
Dean doesn't want to believe it. Sam doesn't know her. Both of them are too desperate for a smidge of affection to see what you do.
But you do.
Mary blurs worse, somehow. Maybe it's because of all the time that's passed between her death and resurrection. Maybe it's because of all the time she's spent as a ghost. You're certain she's not all there. But even that can't excuse her from working with her younger son's torturers.
You don't bring it up. Just make pie with shaky hands. Mary sucks at cooking, and Dean is fixated on her.
Sam shakes even worse than you do. He spends his spare time in hiding, or glued to your side. Mary seems to have forgotten him.
He seems frailer now. His diet more restrictive than ever. You adapt your cooking, but he eats like a baby bird. Bits and pieces. It scares you. You keep him close. Give him little tasks. Give him the lemons to squeeze for the lemonade. Your strength wanes, but his is consistent, and you need it. He needs you. Sometimes, when the bunker is too quiet, heโll find you and just rest his forehead against your shoulder. He doesn't speak. He just breathes, and you stand there, a pillar holding up a crumbling sky. You can feel the tremors running through him, a constant, low-grade earthquake. Youโre afraid that if you move, heโll shatter.
Dean pushes you away. He's got his mommy now. Mommy keeps betraying him. Mommy is selfish. Mommy didn't just choose the enemy, she slept with them. Mommy is lost. Dean needs something stronger than beer and milk.
Dean knocks on your bedroom door around the witching hour. He smells like a brewery. You take him in, trying not to fuss over him. His eyes are glazed over and desperation clings to him. You don't ask why. He doesn't tell you.
He strips and pulls you into bed. You can hardly process it in the darkness, but he's safe. He loves you. Both of the Winchester boys do, even if they don't say it.
But Sam isn't here tonight. Dean is. He's mouthing at your neck, working his way down your body. You try to pull him up, to kiss him properly. He pins your wrists, pushing your shirt up. His desperation grows thicker the longer he's latched onto your nipples.
Dean kisses his way down, wedging himself there, between your thighs, your legs hooked over his shoulders. He's mouthing at your clothed cunt and you can hardly breathe. You hardly spend any time in bliss before you realize he's crying, right there, while sucking on your clit. You try to tug him up, to comfort him. He lets out a pathetic whimper, staying right where he is. Your arousal isn't the only thing soaking your panties anymore. His shoulders shake with the force of his tears. This wasn't lovemaking. This was a drowning man trying to climb inside you, to use your body as a shelter from the storm in his head. You card your fingers through his hair, and he flinches like the tenderness was a brand. He couldn't accept comfort, only this frantic, animalistic attempt to feel real. Your heart aches.
He falls asleep between your legs like an overgrown cat. Your tears flow freely now.
Mary's faded completely. Gone from this world. The hole she left behind is a vacuum that sucks all the light from Dean's eyes.
And now, you're fading, too.
A bullet, gone astray. A simple, stupid mistake. The pain is a hot, bright shock, then a deep, cold throb. Your lifeblood leaks through the cracks, a dark stain spreading across your shirt, seeping into the dusty ground.
Sam drops to his knees so hard you hear the impact of bone on concrete. He pulls you into his lap, and his long fingers are ice cold as they press desperately against the wound. "No, no, no," he chants, a broken prayer. "Look at me. Just look at me."
Dean's already killed the thing that got you. The gunshot still rings in your ears. He spins, and the rage on his face melts into a terror so pure it looks like a little boy's. He drops beside you, his hands fluttering, unsure where to land. "Hey, no. C'mon, sweetheart. You're okay. You're okay, you hear me?" He's begging you, begging the universe.
You try to draw a breath to answer him, but it's a wet, gurgling sound. The world is starting to tunnel, the edges of your vision dimming.
Dean's got his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze to his. "You can't do this. You can't abandon us, too. Please." His voice cracks on the word. "We can't do this without you."
Sam's hands are digging into your skin, pushing, as if he could physically return the blood to your veins. A tear falls from his face onto yours. It's warm. It's the warmest thing you can feel.
You take your last, painful breath. It tastes of copper and dust. The last of the light is gone from your eyes, but the last thing you see is themโtheir two beautiful, broken, blurred faces, the very center of your world.
horse riding practice with your knight that ends with your mare being spooked and galloping into the forest, leaving you having to share a horse back to the castle; with his huge palms pressing against your stomach as he sits in the saddle behind you, caging you between his thighs with his breath across the back of your neck and his rock-hard cock grinding against your lower back with each of his stallionโs stepโฆ.
you know that trope where itโs princess + knight, but theyโve both been captured by the bad guys and the princess is now gripped by the jaw by the villain, receiving a thin cut to her cheek while remaining completely still with a defiant look in her eyes even as a droplet of blood begins to trickle out of the wound, all while 3 people AT THE VERY LEAST need to have their hands locked on the knight because heโs thrashing around like a wild animal, trying so so so desperately, violently, to get to her?