Who: Dick Grayson and Simon Lewis What: Late Night Temptations Talks When: June 8, 2019 Where: Facility Common Area Warning/Status: mentions of canon typical violence Status: Completed via Gdoc
Simon didn't really realize how quiet his old living situation was until he was back with the, well, living.
Now there were heartbeats all around him, day and night. When it was as late as it was now and most people were asleep, he could pick out a few of them if he let himself concentrate hard enough.
There were the wolves, of course, faster than the others. He'd given them a wide-berth, even after he'd run into the head of security early on while leaving the gym from a pre-dawn workout. All Derek Hale had done was look at his chest with a slightly raised eyebrow before shrugging and moving about his business. (Not that Simon could have had any way to know this, but Derek's exact thoughts had been, "Huh. Must be like Cath.") Who knew, maybe they would be cool toward him in this world, but he hadn't been brave enough to try and approach.
The supers had strong beats, too. Funny how Jace the Shadowhunter's matched up with people like Steve and Hannah. It was the former that had driven him from his room and downstairs to one of the stupidly plush sofas in the common area. That asshole just had to pick the room above his. Even as he lay there, lengthwise across the couch, a notebook open and resting on his stomach where he'd been writing lyrics before getting lost in his thoughts, he became aware that the rhythm of his pen tapping against the side of the pages matched that of Jace's. He squeezed his eyes shut and told himself to focus on something else.
Not even five seconds later, something else landed right in his lap.
Well, in his nose.
He sat up like a shot and looked around a little wildly. "Blood?"
A steady stream of Romani curses accompanied Dick's footsteps as he made his way back to the Security offices from New Asgard. If he was capable of stomping he would have been, but decades of treading lightly was a tough habit to break. His shift should have been over hours ago and yet here he was having to write out a report, just because of some dumbass Paparazzi. He'd crossed their paths on his routine check of the township and caught a few who were skulking around trying to get closer to the Lighthouse.
He should have just let the Shield guys sort them out, but that probably would have just embroiled the facility and portal refugees in more trouble. But trying to shepherd the photographers away had proven even more troublesome and he'd even been hit by a spare battery pack for his trouble. It was around that time when his escrima had fitted into his hands almost without conscious thought and the sight of their taser tips crackling to life had encouraged the paps to get back in their car and gtfo.
Finding his tablet where he'd left it in the security room, he grabbed his bag from his locker and shouldered it, deciding to file the report before going home. Of course Derek wouldn't be in his office this late (or at least he shouldn't be when not actively on duty), but Dick could email it, so he'd have it first thing. Mind made up, he traipsed along the hallway to the common area, tablet in one hand and a bottle of Gatorade in the other.
What he didn't need was another unwelcome surprise, and the sight of Simon jumping out of his skin was certainly surprising, as was the exclamation.
"Blood?!"
Wariness gave way to delight but slid right into dismay as the iron-sweet smell hit him in a stronger wave now that Simon knew its source. He gripped the back of the couch for a second. Several seconds. Long enough to force his fangs back up into his head. They continued to tickle against his gums, literally itching to come out.
Inappropriate!
He got up with slow, careful movements and came around to get a closer look. But not too close. He wasn't hungry, but his mouth was definitely watering. After swallowing thickly, Simon nodded his chin in his fellow nerd's direction. "I have no idea what you went up against, but you've got a"—Simon gestured at the side of his own head and then toward Dick's—"an ouchie. Er, a cut. Just there. Can't feel fun."
Judging by the reaction, Dick figured the other guy had a phobia or something. Didn't they make you super aware of the thing you were adverse to? "Oh, man, I thought it was just a bruise." Juggling the items he was carrying and fishing a tissue from his pocket, he reached up and pressed it to his head where Simon indicated. "Sorry if you don't like blood. I should warn you that if you're my friend you'll probably have to get used to it. One of the many hazards of going out at night in a mask."
He gave a little smile; outing himself as a vigilante still felt a little strange. But pretty much everyone in this building had some kind of power or ability. "Or of being in security, apparently. How come you're down here? Can't sleep?"
"I like blood," Simon muttered under his breath, and found himself following Dick Grayson's movement a little too closely. He licked his lips, ears suddenly very attuned to the other's pulse. "Too much." He shook his head in a desperate attempt to clear it, and then mirrored Dick's expression back at him. "We're friends? Cool. Always wanted to be friends with a superhero."
He tossed a hand dismissively, and then stopped. Was it possible that Dick hadn't seen his confession via the network? "I'm a night person," he hedged with a shrug. "Is there a first aid kit around here, or are you headed down to Medical to get that looked at?"
He thought he heard Simon mumble that he liked blood. Which was a little strange, but there were werewolves here, and he’d met vampires back home so crossing paths with one in this world wasn’t exactly a stretch. "Of course. You called me your people." Dick chuckled, "Or shouldn’t I have taken that literally?" His nose scrunched a little, and he shrugged then, "I have no super powers, so I can’t really claim that title. I’m just a human trying to help where I can."
Nodding at the explanation, he didn’t ask for anything further; Bruce was more of a night person too, in fact most of his family were. "There’s probably one somewhere in the kitchen, or behind the bar. It isn’t serious enough to go all the way down to medical. Head wounds bleed a lot and I’ve had worse. Much worse."
"No, no! It was literal, for sure. Anyone who makes a Highlander reference is totally aces." Simon grinned, and then shook his head. "You fight crime, though, right? Makes you pretty super in my book." He paused, face falling. "Aw, crap, does that make the Shadowhunters from my world superheroes, too? I hate inductive logic!"
He pried himself from his place at the back of the couch and went on the hunt for the kit. This time, he used a little vamp speed to find it faster than usual. He came back just in time for Dick's words to hit him in all the wrong ways. A phantom sensation brought his free hand to his throat, and he rubbed his fingers across it. The one thing that was really strange about getting his throat slit was how little pain there had been. Probably because it happened so fast. Simon shook his head, but he couldn't stop his hand from trembling a little as he beckoned Dick over and got the kit opened. "Let me help."
"Oh, good, good, because otherwise this could have been awkward." Dick snickered, pulling the tissue away and looking at the red smudge across it. "I fight crime, yeah. I was a cop for a while. But there was a little too much corruption in the force for my liking." Giving a little snort, he shrugged a shoulder, "They're probably just cops, not superheroes."
Dick dropped his bag down beside the couch, setting the tablet down on the cushion a little more carefully. Cracking open his drink he took a gulp, letting the Gatorade do its work to keep him alert. He didn't expect Simon to be back quite so quickly, but he shrugged it off, guessing the kit had been closer than he thought. Looking across at the other man, he noticed the strange change in his expression and the way his hand went to his throat. "Are you okay?" Dick moved closer, sitting on the arm of the couch, "Thanks."
His opinions about police and the authoritarian state were fairly complicated and politically charged, so Simon thought it was probably pretty wise to keep them to himself. Or at least less confrontational. He abandoned the train of thought altogether and focused on getting the kit open and a few packets of antiseptic wipes and antibacterial ointment. Another thing he also had to focus on was the awkward navigation of their bodies in relation to the light and Dick's injury. And speaking of the latter…
"Someone hurt me." He'd meant it to be conversational, but his voice betrayed him. After a moment of hesitation, Simon lifted a hand to cup the back of his surprise patient's head and used his thumb to lift his hair away from the affected area. Using great care, he began to dab at the shallow cut. "Right before I got here. Someone slit my throat to get another person to cooperate with their plans. Gotta love being a pawn."
Dick’s eyes narrowed instantly in the wake of those three words, but mostly because of the slight crack in his new friend’s voice. But before he could say anything, Simon’s hand was cradling the back of his head and he held still so the other could get a good look at the cut. A little grimace followed the first dab of antiseptic, the sting a familiar one, but still uncomfortable. The experience of being used as a pawn was also vaguely familiar, though his own experience was a faded memory now, while Simon’s was obviously still fresh. "Your throat was— but how did you survive?"
Sympathy panged through him at Dick's obvious reaction. It has to hurt, if it's to heal. Simon almost snorted at the quote that floated up through his memory. Instead, he just used more care, which slowed to not moving at all. Was it possible Dick didn't know? Actually, it was more than possible. It's not like the network had blown up with reactions from his comment. With the speed at which it moved, it was entirely possible the news had gotten buried anyway. Simon didn't breathe. Didn't need to. Would never need to again.
"I'm part of the Shadow World," he answered, while knowing full well this would mean next to nothing to the superhero. "The Downworld, to be more precise. I—" Simon licked his lips, all too aware of how close he was to a living being whose blood wasn't quite as on the inside as it should be. "I'mavampire. Ja—Someone let me feed on them, so I was able to heal fast. Either way, it was really fucked up."
"You are?" Dick couldn't help the question, he didn't exactly know what the Shadow World was, other than Alec's job there was to fight demons and manage disputes between others who just had demon blood. Simon stood between his knees, still carefully holding his head steady, but his other hand had been paused for a while now and Dick wondered for a moment if he was okay. "Oh." It didn't seem like much of a reaction to the rushed words, but it was all he could get out before the whole feeding and healing explanation came.
"Yeah… that does sound fucked up." He risked tipping his head back so he could look up at Simon properly. "Is that why you haven't left your room much?"
It took Simon a second to shake off the weird twist of anxiety at the expectation that all of this was about to go very badly. But no stakes were brandished. No one ran away screaming. If anything, Dick appeared more curious than anything. He continued his ministrations with almost mechanical motions. "Yeah, it is. I tried to go back home after it happened, after I got turned, but it didn't go well."
Hello, understatement.
"And then I lived by myself in a literal boathouse. A building where boats were housed. Being around people again—it's been an adjustment." He trailed off awkwardly. "It's stopped bleeding." Simon knew that without looking. "Just gotta put the antibac stuff on. I—I, uh, I don't want to hurt anyone."
It just sort of blurted out of him, and there was no way to claw it back.
Dick sat quietly, letting Simon tell him as much as he felt comfortable sharing, and tried to imagine what it must have felt like for the other man. Being changed into something else, unable to go back home or live with company. It sounded lonely. "I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be, with everyone here living on top of each other. Would it be easier for you out in New Asgard, or at the Consulate? There’s more space and the apartments aren’t all occupied."
Giving a little smile of gratitude, he nodded, "Thanks, for cleaning it up." Again he winced, this time as the antibacterial spray burned for a second as it hit the wound, but that just meant it was working and the sensation wouldn’t last long. "You think you might accidentally?" A sudden concern struck him, and he touched Simon’s arm, "You haven’t been starving yourself have you?"
Yet again, Simon stood stock still, eyes glued to the spot where Dick was touching him. Such a small, simple gesture, but the warmth, the kindness of it burned through him. Yes, he'd been with Clary before coming here, but he couldn't remember the last time they'd touched or been together. Everything became a swirl of mindless violence at the end. His thoughts snapped back to the present, prompting Simon to shake his head. "No! No. I got a dorm fridge and an order from the butcher's shop through FRIDAY, and Eliot said he would see what he could do for me, if I went by his club. I, uh, told the people in Medical, too, just in case. So I've been good. Not, uh, not hungry, I mean."
A puckish amusement stole through him, making him smirk and tighten the hand that now gripped the back of Dick's head. "If I was starving, I would have already gotten my teeth in you." He licked his lips reflexively. "You have no idea how good you smelled."
"Oh, okay, good." Dick realised his question was a silly one as soon as Simon spoke. Of course he would have made sure he could source food. Even if he was the type to feed on humans, he wouldn't risk having half the facility after him by eating someone here.
"So, what you’re saying is, I’m a snack?" Dick chuckled, giving Simon an impish smile to match. He didn’t feel any fear or wariness, which he chalked up to knowing instinctively that his fellow dork wouldn’t hurt him. His hand was still on Simon's arm and he gave a pat before letting it drop. "Thanks for patching me up and not licking my head. I'm sure my hair is all gross and sweaty."
Whatever moment that as potentially building could have gone a dozen different ways, most of them disastrous. Fortunately, it turned toward the absurd, and Simon laughed—giggled, even—as he wrinkled his nose. "A snack like stinky cheese." He laughed harder, doubling over, an arm across his stomach like it could hold him together. No hint of hysteria, just genuine amusement. It felt nice to do. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed this hard or this freely. "Wow, thanks for that. I guess I needed it."
Simon jutted his chin toward the front of the building. "They're not still out there, are they? The people who did this to you?"
The joke lightened the odd vibe which had started to build and Dick found that he enjoyed seeing Simon's amusement. He got the feeling that laughs had been few and far between for the other since becoming a vampire. "Stinky cheese." Dick snorted out a laugh, "Gee, thanks." There was no heat behind the words, and he chuckled, tidying up the first aid kit while he answered.
"Nope." Dick gave a wicked little smirk, "They didn't like the look of my escrima." He nudged his bag with his toe where the tips of said weapons were peeking out of the zip. "They were over in New Asgard, trying to get pictures of Thor and Loki probably, but they strayed too close to the Lighthouse."
"Look"—Simon planted his hand on his hip while the other waved an accusatory finger—"you already have an unfair advantage, what with your everything." And, yes, he fully realized how weird this was getting, since Dick looked just like Alec, but still! "I have to deduct points from somewhere to level the playing field." He stuck out his tongue as punctuation.
Attention dropping momentarily to the indicated weapons, it made it easier to ignore the weird tickle in the back of his head. It seemed to be a bizarre mixture of frustration and deja vu. He'd been feeling it since he stepped foot through the portal, like there were things he should be remembering but couldn't get to no matter what he tried. Simon realized he'd been quiet for a beat too long, his smile fixed and frozen. He mentally shook himself, for all the good it did. "Bold choice, risking divine wrath for a tabloid headline."
Schooling his expression into something more serious, Dick looked up at Simon, giving him his full attention. Though his acting skills were tested as soon as his friend waved his finger in his face. "My everything, huh?" His lips twitched up into a smile and he shook his head, laughing out loud as Simon poked his tongue out. "Well, that told me."
You didn’t grow up with Bruce Wayne as your guardian without picking up a few things, like noticing when someone’s thoughts were struggling to stay in the present. He knew he’d interrupted Simon’s night with his arrival, so perhaps he should write up his report and leave the adorkable vampire in peace. "That’s what I thought. But paparazzi are a tenacious sort, they don’t really care about warnings."
Shifting to sit properly on the couch, he spotted the open notebook; "Did I disturb your writing?"
Picking up the first aid box, Simon debated about speeding it back to its place, but in the end he just held it to his chest. Like a coward. After a blink-and-miss-it pause, he sat as well and reached over to pull his notebook closer. It had the same chaotic order as most of his thoughts.
Half-written riffs and chords were sprinkled in with scratched out lyrics and heavily underlined words, with little doodles throughout. He was kind of proud of himself for not snapping it shut, which had been his first impulse. "Not interrupted, no. Honestly, the break was well timed. I have a phrase I can't get quite right. It's changing the tone of the entire song." His gaze whipped sideways at Dick. "Not that I would've wanted anyone to get hurt just to give me a brain reset. Funny, right? A pacifist vampire."
Dick wouldn’t have blamed Simon if he’d shut the notebook, some things were private, and he respected that. The glimpse he’d had of the page hadn’t been intentional, he’d only really seen lines of writing and little doodles. "I wasn’t being nosy, promise."
Drawing his legs up to cross beneath him on the cushion, he settled his tablet on one knee, but ignored the device for the time being. Procrastinating? Maybe. "Oh, so you’re musical too? Now who’s not playing fair and giving the regular guys a chance?" Dick smiled, "How is it changing? Upbeat to slow or the opposite?" Nudging his elbow gently into Simon’s side, he grinned. "Refreshing actually, and it’s not the first time my being hit in the head has reset someone’s brain."
"Ha-ha. Bold of you to assume that gives me any kind of advantage. People have to hear it first before they're hopelessly charmed by my affable geekiness." Simon finally relinquished his hold on the first aid kit and set it on the coffee table so he could trade it for his notebook. "More like hopeful to sad. I'm not sure if it's the melody or the lyrics or both. Okay, so bear with me, 'cause I didn't bring my guitar down with me. Hopefully you'll get the gist."
He began humming and then vocalizing a happy little tune, going on for a few bars before he picked up the lyrics in the middle of a phrase. "—know you can be happy, and that's all I've ever wanted for you. We weren't meant to be, and that's okay, too. All I want is to be happy, too. Even if that means it's without you."
Those last two words slipped into a minor key, leaving Simon to peter off into silence. "See? It just… changes."
"Don’t you usually let people hear your songs?" He knew some artists could be shy about sharing their work, and it wouldn’t surprise him if Simon were one of them. Dick gave a little nod of encouragement, "A cappella is fine, don’t worry."
The beginning didn’t sound at all bad, even without lyrics, the tune was melodic and upbeat. He could see it being popular with teens if Simon ever decided to record it and get it out there. The lyrics were a little on the angsty side, lost love usually was, but again the demographic would eat that up.
Simon wasn’t wrong, the key change did alter the tone of the song. "What if you don’t use the minor key at the end?"
Lifting a hand, Simon flexed his fingers and shook them out like he'd actually been playing his guitar. He gave Dick a dry smile and lifted a shoulder as he thought about the melody, knowing the suggestion was the right one but having needed the verbal confirmation of his own thoughts. He continued to ruminate on it as he picked up the thread of the earlier question. "Oh, I don't mind sharing my music. Probably too much, if you asked my friends and former bandmates. I meant more a broader audience. Maybe even a paying one."
He hummed again, before picking up the end of the phrase. The major chord sat better in the song, but it twisted in his chest so that Simon made a face on the other side of it. "Ugh, I think I'm doing that thing where I'm trying to use the song as therapy. I—" His mouth pulled back in a grimace. "There was a girl. My best friend. I'd been in love with her for just about as long as I had a concept of it. We were dating when I got pulled here, but I just found out that the guy she'd had a thing with before was suddenly not… as unavailable as he'd been previously. Which—wow, you did not ask about my love life. Sorry."
"Wait, you were in a band? That's so rad." He gave a wicked little smile, "I don't imagine you'd have a shortage of fans if you did decide to cut a record, or perform somewhere. You'd just have to make sure your concerts were after dark. It'd add to your artistic mystique."
The song sounded a lot better with just that little alteration to the key, but by his friend's reaction he could see that it wasn't what Simon wanted to hear. Before he could wonder why, the truth came spilling out of the vampire and Dick gave his shoulder a sympathetic nudge with his own. "No need to apologize, I get this a lot. People feel comfortable sharing stuff with me, I must give off a vibe or something. But I know what you're going through. I've sort of been there, though I wasn't actually dating my friend at the time and the other guy was actually another friend, and they were cute together..." He laughed, "I'm oversharing now too. Must be something in the air tonight."
"Or I've got that vibe, too." Simon laughed, and it felt nice. Like making a friend. Or having one. And that, in turn, made him realize just how insular his existence had been for the last few months—even before now and this place and keeping what he was a secret. The ache in his chest was still there, despite the stillness of his heart. He wasn't sure if it would ever really go away, and that wasn't entirely tied up in his feelings about Clary. In fact, most of it was down to the loss of his ties to his family.
"Maybe we're the guys destined to have our hearts broken while everyone assumes we're the heartbreakers. Well, they probably assume you're the heartbreaker. Me, on the other hand…" he trailed off with another chuckle. "Anyway, I think you're gonna survive your Epic Paps Battle of History, and I should probably stop talking your ear off about the sorry state of my prospective love life. Love unlife? Not having a beating heart or a pulse makes these distinctions unclear."
"I think you do." Dick chuckled, shaking his head as he was called a heartbreaker, it wasn't the first time and it no doubt wouldn't be the last. "You get to choose what you call it I guess." He frowned, picking up his tablet, "Speaking of the Paps, I should write up my report, I'll try to type quietly while you finish your song."
Simon had fully expected Dick to use his perfectly good excuse to leave, but found himself very glad when he didn't. He grabbed his notebook from the table and then settled back in next to Dick, their shoulders pressed together companionably, a little smile curving the edges of his mouth as he began to pick at the song some more. Yeah, this whole having friends was really nice.