|Dick Grayson was always (thebestchoice) wrote in rooms,|
@ 2015-01-18 19:36:00
|Entry tags:||!miss peregrine's, *narrative, dick grayson|
Narrative: Dick Grayson - Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children Door
Who: Dick Grayson
Where: Miss Peregrine's!
When: A couple days after this
What: Second door to the right and straight on partying for two days?
Warnings: 19 year old Dick Grayson.
I got you babe. It was stuck in his head on a permanent loop not unlike the very odd permanent loop he seemed to be stuck in - It wasn't Groundhog Day - but the song remained. Not stuck, persay. The door was right there. But he didn't need to leave. Not quite yet. He wasn't in any danger, he could fly, his bones didn't creak, and he was only covered in half as many scars as he had been whenever he'd walked through the door that sounded pleasant from the outside.
And he'd been right. It was weird, he was grossly overdressed for the time period, but there were interesting people there who could do interesting things and lived interesting lives. He was interesting to them, he talked about Bats and Jokers and brothers and sisters. He talked about circuses and showed off his tumbling skills. He had only meant to leap then fall as he was wont to do at home when he and Batman ran across rooftops together. But instead he'd leapt and flew. Holy shit had he flown.
WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE.
And it had hurt. God had it hurt. He'd broken his nose only to have it set by a nurse in the town and the other kids tease him, and he'd been told he had to stay the night in case it got worse. That was new, and really if they only knew how much worse it could be. He didn't ache anymore, but he wasn't without his battle scars. Worn proudly like badges of honor. A feeling he hadn't felt in more than a decade. Funny that he remembered a decade that he didn't feel in his body anymore.
Maybe heavy things even weighed less, maybe he thought proudly of little Lucy like he'd show her the world instead of protecting her from it. Maybe he thought of Babs here with him during their heyday, her sassing and him being a prick. A second chance to grow up together instead of separately. A second chance to grow up at all. A place where people looked after you, and where girls brought you tea and boys hung on your every word while you told them about fights and bad guys.
The first night when he'd drifted to sleep, his mind was on checking in at home. He'd told them all something, but couldn't quite remember why he'd need to check in if they knew he'd be gone. It was a rebellious streak inside of him that had him putting it off until the next morning. It would drive Bruce crazy was the thought that had him smiling even though his nose throbbed and leaked a bit when he laughed.
He heard the explosion the first night. It jarred him, but he was surprised to note that maybe it had jarred some others, but it seemed as if, in an instant, it had never happened.
That was when he learned about time loops. And when morning came they fed him, they showed him where to wash up, gave him clean clothes so they could wash the blood out of his other ones. Dared him to jump off the roof again, and before he knew it they were settling in for the night again, he was being reminded to cover his ears, he was being reminded that he'd be fine. And after 48 hours in the door he had lived through it twice, and watched a cat do the exact same thing every single time he saw it at the same time every day. He jumped off the roof again.
Just before he was coming to expect the barrage of bombs he remembered. He had to check in.