batmanschmatman | 010 [video]

I do have smoke bombs, just in case.

You still need to tell me about how that went down, by the way.

Maybe we can talk about it tonight, after you fill me in on all the crazy thoughts you've been having.

Don't worry, I remember our deal.

Anything else? Or can I get back to my real life for awhile before I'm knocking on your door?

Go back to your real life. I should... I should probably take a nap or something.

Have a good sleep.

Thanks.

[And Hayley knocked at Dick's door a couple minutes after 10, cup of coffee in her hand, taser in her back pocket like usual. She was still unusually nervous about seeing him, not used to people being what they seemed to be -- which, despite his occupation, Dick was more than any of her inmate friends. The girl waited awkwardly in the hall, glancing around and kind of hoping no one saw her.]

[After making sure Tim wasn't about to commit murder, checking to see that Steph wasn't totally caught in a downward spiral, and wondering why exactly this kind of thing seemed to happen all the time, Dick had sort of been at the end of his rope and sort of just wanted to curl up in a ball and forget about everything for a little while. Fortunately, the nap helped, and so by the time he drags himself to the door, he's feeling a lot less like crap. He'd changed out of his wet clothes after finding Steph in CES, and while he's still pretty obviously not feeling 100%, at least he's mobile.

He pulled the door open and immediately stepped aside so Hayley could enter.] Hi.

[Hayley's excited smile immediately altered into a concerned frown when she saw him. The inmate offered greetings as she moved inside, anxious to be out of the hallways; after the Aztec rampage, she preferred to avoid them.]

"Hey, are you okay? You don't look so good." [Dick looked sick, he looked tired, and if he felt half as worn down as he appeared, then the girl was half-inclined to insist on spending a night or two to keep any visitors away until he recovered.]

[He managed a grim smile, rubbing a hand over his eyes, wincing as he aggravated some of the bruises left over from the Aztec's weapon.] I'm a lot better then most the rest of the people on board.

[Still, he did kind of feel a little miserable, so instead of lingering in the door way he walked back over to sit down on his bed, back against the wall. The room was kind of a mess, but the small couch across from the bed was pretty void of his stuff, as was the coffee table. He'd been trying to make an effort to keep things a little cleaner since his misadventure with the misplaced shuriken.]

[Hayley waited to move beyond the entrance until Dick had closed the door. Or, rather, that was her intention. When he moved to his bed without touching the door, she walked over and closed and locked it herself. It was a sort of compulsion she had developed on the Barge, never having experienced anything horrifying locked inside a room, but always out and about. She offered Dick a weak smile as she moved over to the couch, trying to explain in as few words as possible.] "I trust you more than I trust them."

[The inmate took a seat on the bit of his couch that wasn't covered, though she couldn't help but start to rummage through the heaps of clothes and gear, curious what she might find.] "You should lay down, unless that's more comfortable. Whenever you want to start talking, I'll just be listening."

[That got another grin out of the vigilante. Even if it wasn't really a compliment - because seriously them could be anyone, including apparently psycho Aztecs who wanted to rip your hearts out - he still totally understood the compulsion.] After what just happened? I don't blame you.

[He shrugged, looking down hesitantly at the bed. He was pretty sure if he actually got comfortable he'd fall asleep, and lying down and talking about his problems kind of made this feel like therapy. And Dick wasn't really into that.] I'm okay. What did you want to talk about?

[Hayley shrugged, finally straightening and sitting still for the moment to look over at him. It seemed obvious, but if he wanted an outline, she was happy to provide him with one.] "What happened after I bandaged you up, how you got the rest of the cuts, what happened to your friends, how you're recovering, why you hate Roman so much, maybe some of the history there.. or, you know, why I caught a glimpse of you wearing fingerless gloves and looking like a rebel without a cause with a bunch of mafiosos when I flicked through that Black Mask comic. Whatever you want."

[She flashed him an exaggerated smile, a mixture between sarcasm and lighthearted teasing.]

[Dick blinked, processing all of that. He'd been sort of worried that the comic book she'd already mentioned was going to include that. It was really creepy knowing that just anyone could show up and tell him about all that, about Bludhaven -

So not going there right now. He'd had enough trauma for one day. He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing slightly.] It's kind of a long story. [Meaning the comic book thing. Might as well start with the worst part, right?]

[Hayley shrugged, expecting that was code for him not wanting to talk. She stood and began riffling through his things under the guise of tidying up a bit, tossing his clothes in one corner after check the pockets and stacking his books and papers on the table. When she found a batarang under a food wrapper of some kind, she gave him a pointed look, then his shuriken wound, then went back to cleaning. Hayley set the batarang on the table in its own spot, wanting to ask him about it later.]

[Dick smiled sheepishly at the look. He really should probably try to keep his space cleaner, but... he'd always been messy. Still, it was nice of her to try straightening up after him, and as weird as it was, she was kind of reminding him of Alfred with the cleaning and that look, so after a moment of trying to figure out how to explain it, he started talking. He'd already told Costigan about part of it, but he'd never really talked to anyone about this part before. He wasn't even sure if Tim knew about it, which was probably something they'd have to talk about now that Mask was around.]

I sort of... went through a self destructive period for a while a year or so ago. That was sort of part of it.

"I'm listening." [She replied in a neutral sort of tone as she continued cleaning, rather liking the distraction for her hands and her mind. Just sitting there waiting for someone to talk was awkward and it put my pressure on them. At least this way, he could talk as much or as little as he wanted while she just continued doing what she was doing. Besides, Hayley didn't mind cleaning when she was in the right mood and getting to go through pretty much everything Dick owned was a wicked enough perk to be in the right mood.]

[Dick was quiet for a while, trying to figure out how to explain it without spilling too much. He didn't want to talk about Blockbuster or Tarantula, or the gang war that Steph had started or basically trying to throw his life away at any opportunity. It was not exactly his finest moment.]

I made a lot of mistakes. A lot of mistakes. And I couldn't deal with it for a while, so I just... left. I kind of lost sight of what was important, I guess.

[He's quiet again before adding, in a sort of amused tone,] I got snapped out of it eventually, obviously, but it was kind of just one horrible thing happening after another for a while, and I didn't really know how to cope.

[She listened with a sort of impatience on her expression, though she wasn't certain whether he could see it or not. It felt like the sort of thing someone said to get you off their back without actually telling you anything. The inmate didn't appreciate that, but she knew she had to cut him some slack' the night was just beginning, after all. His last words made her freeze, however, halfway to picking up another shirt. She slowly straightened as she turned to stare at him, both hands grasping the piece of clothing.]

"Did you learn how to cope?" [Because if not, then Dick would sure as hell snap at some point on the Barge.]

[He stared at her a little defensively for a moment.] I know how to cope with a lot of stuff. This was different.

[And he's quiet again, almost long enough that it seemed like he wouldn't elaborate further, but now he'd told Bruce and he'd told Costigan, so it was... maybe getting easier to talk about. Or maybe he was just tired and needed to ramble a little.]

... There was this mob boss, in Bludhaven. He found out who I was, and started trying to rip my life apart. Everything I'd built there, he started destroying, and I was there when he died. I could have stopped her from killing him, but I didn't. We're not supposed to kill people. [And he stops again.]

[Hayley stood there, still paused, not minding his look. It was a valid question in her mind. She opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it and started tidying again. Another smoke bomb, a book, clothes, more cloths. When he started talking again, she slowed to show that she was paying attention, glancing over to him every now and then. In this situation, she wasn't sure whether it was better to watch him or to continue looking away more than not; she wasn't sure whether to ask questions or not; she wasn't sure whether to comment or simply listen. In the end, she realized she had to choose something.] "Who was it?"

Roland Desmond. Blockbuster.

[He shifted so he was once again sort of lying down, but propped up high enough on pillows that he was sort of sitting up too. He looked over at the girl curiously for a moment.] Can I ask you something?

[Huh. Not recognizing the name, the girl took note of it for later. At his question, Hayley froze again. After a beat, though, she continued tidying without looking at him. She didn't like where this was going. At least Dick seemed slightly more comfortable.] "Sure, but I'm not obligated to answer."

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Spam! - Around 10. (Adorable icon)

Spam! - (I don't get to use it as much as I'd like. c:)

Spam! - You can use it with Hayley. All the time. I'll start interpreting moods. >:]

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