Dick Grayson one shots

Poisonous

Dick's fists were a blur as he punched the bag hanging from the ceiling in his training room. Tears blurred his vision, and his punches slowed as sobs ripped from his throat.

The punching bag shook faintly from the final weak hit Dick delivered onto it. He let out a particularly loud sob, leaning forward until his forehead rested against the heavy bag.

The sobs continued as Dick sunk to the floor, ignoring the blood leaking through the wrap over his knuckles.

It was the anniversary... the final flight of the flying Graysons had ended abruptly on this very night so many years ago.

Every year since Dick had lost his parents he'd had people around him, lifting him up, supporting him in his grief. Not this year though.

Dick curled into the fetal position on the floor, unable to hold back his gasping sobs. He was usually able to conjure up some sort of smile, fake or real on this day, if only to convince his family that he was doing alright, but the truth was that he wasn't ok.

Every time Dick lost another family member, made another mistake, was shunned or neglected, he kept the pain at bay with forced smiles and jokes. His load of grief piled up, compounding as he desperately tried to push it away.

Once a year the anniversary of Dick's parents death would come around. The day when his smiles seemed just a bit more broken. That's when he couldn't push the grief away any longer, when everything finally became too much.

It happened every year, but this time was different. Dick had been abandoned for good this time. His family, his friends. They all wanted nothing to do with him. He'd messed up one too many times, they had helped fix him so many times, but it seemed they'd finally reached their limit.

Dick always knew this would happen. He knew the love he received from his family would run dry eventually, just like everyone else's. Because the truth was his love was like a toxin, slowly eating away at those who received it, until they either left him, or, sadly enough, died.

The last straw for Dick's family had been his death, not his real death, but the fake one that had accompanied it. He'd caused them all so much pain, it was obvious why they wouldn't want him around anymore...

"Mami... Tati... I miss you so much," Dick whispered through his tears.

Dick's parents, the first ones to experience his poisonous love. Dead.

Jason... dead.

Wally... dead.

Damian... dead.

Dick believed people when they told him it was all his fault. All that guilt, all that pain piled up on him, forcing him to the ground where he let out his anguished cries. His cheery, loving demeanor was gone, replaced by red eyes and tear stained cheeks.

'They're better off without me.' Dick thought to himself. Tears pooling on the floor.

Dick needed someone, anyone... but nobody came, so he lay on the floor, broken and alone. After everything that had happened to him over the years, his wings had finally been clipped, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to fly again.