Catch me - {Dick Grayson}

chapter two

Chapter two - I hate it here

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That night I took off, leaving Chicago behind. It has been three years since a single lead or even step in the right direction of where my brother is. Of course suspicions loomed over my head, but I forced myself to act upon reason and evidence, as he would've wanted for me.

A 17 hour drive I managed to cut down into 15 was impressive, even for me. I didn't stop, and driving through the night managed to help decrease my time overall.

I pull into a shady looking car park, cringing at the mould and water dripping from above me. I exit my vehicle, shutting the door behind me, remembering I have a gun in my pocket.

Just in case, of course.

My trip gets even better when I pull open the apartment lobby door and get a whiff of mouldy cheese. I force myself to hold my breath as I give a slight nod to the lobby assistant and make a bolt up the stairs.

I don't even make an attempt to try the elevator, last time I was here Dick got himself trapped for an hour between floors. I thought it was his doom if I'm honest.

I continue making my way up to the second floor. Finally, I release a breath, the must smell that was once dominant within the air becoming slightly more bearable up here.

Checking the time, which reads 12am, I cringe, aware that this is a dick move on my behalf.

But I keep walking down the hall, finally reaching apartment 207.

With a heavy heart, bad memories and a lot of goddamn nerves, I raise my fist and knock on the door.

Silence.

Thud, thud, thud, thud. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait anxiously for a response.

Just as I'm about to call it and find a motel, the door clicks. I turn back to face the door, and when the door swings open, she looks at me as if she's seen a ghost.

Dawn is standing there in an oversized shirt, probably Hank's, and some fluffy socks I'm kind of jealous of.

But her facials scream, 'what the fuck' and understandably soon.

Maybe I should've sent a postcard.

"Hi." I say awkwardly, raising my hand in a poor attempt of a wave.

She just grabs my hand in response and yanks me inside the apartment, locking the door behind us and then pulling me into a tight embrace.

I grumble, struggling in her hold. "Do you suffocate all your guests? Or am I special?"

"Only the uninvited ones." She responds with a slight grin, releasing me and looking me up and down. "Are you okay? You are alright, right?"

"Me?" I raise a brow. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry though, It was a last minute thing and I got a new phone so I couldn't message but-"

A low voice comes from down the hall, sounding severely unimpressed with this entire situation. "Was it those fuckers from floor two again, what did they want?"

"Hank no don't come around-" Dawn tries to stop him, but it's too late. "The corner..."

He stands there, rubbing his eyes groggily. My eyes widen as I get a glimpse of something of his I'd rather never see again. I blink a few times and clear my throat, looking at the wall.

"Is this new?" I say, pointing at the new painting, not daring to pull my eyes away from the painting that I'm well aware they've had for years.

"Willow?" Hank almost yells. "What the fuck are you doing here!"