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Dick stared down at the slab of concrete before him, waiting impatiently as the phone line rang in his ear until Jason finally answered.
“Hey Goldie!
”
“Guess what I’m looking at.”
Jason frowned. “
Uh-
”
“My grave.”
Jason’s eyes went wide. “
What are you-
”
“Here lies Richard John Grayson,” Dick read off, gripping the cell phone so hard he was sure it was cracked. “Beloved son and brother.”
“
Dick-
”
“I died?” Dick whispered. “All those dreams I’ve been having. Those weren’t dreams, were they?”
“Dick-”
“When were you going to tell me, Jason!?” Dick screamed.
Jason was silent for a very long time before answering softly, “We weren’t.”
“How?” Dick demanded. “How did I...how?”
“Dick-”
“I saw the autopsy scars, Jason,” Dick hissed. “That’s what tipped me off. So what am I missing? I wasn’t really in a coma, I was dead. And that water I woke up in? That was The Pit, wasn’t it?”
“Dick, I need you to calm down,” Jason soothed. “Just listen to me.”
“Why should I?” Dick snarled. His vision was turning green, hands going numb, but he ignored it. “All you’ve done is lie to me.
All of you!
So why should I believe a word you say now?!”
“You killed yourself,” Jason said, voice calm. “And you sent us each a letter with an apology. You broke us, Dick. We just wanted you back.”
“Oh, I get it,” Dick said, laughing loudly. “Oh, if I’m going to die for the good of everyone else, that’s perfectly fine but the moment I decide to give everyone peace of mind-”
“You jumped off a bridge!” Jason snapped, losing his own cool. “You overdosed, slit your wrists, and jumped off a bridge.”
“If I did all of that,” Dick said, voice utterly emotionless, entire world around him tinged in green. “I must have really been desperate.”
“Dick, just come back,” Jason soothed. Dick was angry. And angry meant Pit Madness. Jason wasn’t sure any of them were ready to deal with that aftermath. “Come back and we can talk.”
“Talk,” Dick repeated hollowly. “You mean like how we have been talking? The last several months? Or wait. That’s right. We haven’t been.”
“Dick-”
“You
lied
to me.”
“Dick, listen to me-”
Dick flung the phone as hard as he could, watching through vacant eyes as it shattered against a nearby headstone. Without another glance back at his own, Dick took off.
……….
Dick’s hands twitched when he heard knocking at his apartment door. After a long time, he walked over and eased it open, flashing his landlord a smile.
Turns out, his landlord had had no idea he was dead.
“Everything alright in here?” the man asked. “I heard crashing.”
“Just tried to move some furniture,” Dick replied, easily blocking the man’s view of the shattered coffee table and television screen with a hole in the middle. “Sorry about that. Was anyone complaining?”
“I do my rounds of the floors,” the man answered. “You alright?”
“Perfectly fine,” Dick replied.
The man nodded before frowning. “Didn’t you have blue eyes? Are you wearing green contacts?”
Dick laughed. “Yep,” he answered. “Just for fun, of course. Can’t see too well though, so I might take them out.”
“Alright,” the landlord said slowly. “Be safe.”
“I will be.” Dick closed the door before gazing down at his hands. Blood trickled down the pale skin, glass shards embedded in the flesh.
“Looks like that hurts.”
Dick barely even flinched as he turned to find Slade Wilson leaning casually against the wall.
“I barely felt it,” Dick admitted. “I...still don’t feel much.”
“Pit Madness.”
“Yeah,” Dick said bluntly. He watched Slade delicately - a word he’d never associated with the mercenary - step over the glass spread out across the living room to walk over and gently take Dick’s wrists.
“Let’s get these fixed,” the mercenary murmured. “Then you can tell me what the hell you were thinking, throwing yourself off that bridge.”
“Beats me,” Dick replied as he followed Slade into the kitchen, taking his seat as the man moved around, grabbing what he needed. “I can’t remember anything.”
“You lied to me, Grayson.”
“Yeah?” Dick asked. “Well, seems like everyone’s been lying lately.”
“I called you one week before you killed yourself,” Slade said as he pulled out a pair of tweezers and began gently pulling the shards out of Dick’s hands and knuckles. “You said you were going on vacation.”
Dick couldn’t help but snort. “Yeah,” he muttered. “A vacation from life.”
Slade’s sharp, one-eyed gaze told him to shut his mouth while he was ahead so Dick said nothing more.
“You're going to start your counseling sessions again,” Slade said calmly. “You are going to go twice a week every week. You are not going to be alone-”
“Slade-”
“The last time we left you alone, Grayson, you lied to everyone then jumped off a bridge,” Slade snapped.
“Why are you so angry?” Dick asked, shaking his head.
“Because I do not appreciate being lied to!” Slade shouted.
“Yeah?” Dick asked quietly, slumping back in his seat as Slade continued to pick glass out of his skin. “Then maybe you should have killed me when you had the chance.”
Slade didn’t look at him, voice low as he said. “Don’t. Tempt me.”