System Reboot || DC

Chapter Twenty-Two

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Drink Up
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It was an uneventful day. The sun rose and then set. A veil of twinkling dusk befalls Gotham. Jocelyn had been out of bed the whole day. Eating, watching a movie in the lounge while waiting for Babs, sitting in the garden.

Seeing Barbara was an emotional experience. Having to tell her story of death, her rebirth, and why she didn't reconnect sooner. Not to mention, recounting her recent trauma. A few tears, some hugging, and some shit-talking were shared. Then it was Barbara's turn to explore her past year.

Again, lots of crying and some trauma-bonding.

While together Barbara offered some advice and shared some material on exercises Jocelyn could do to keep her muscles in shape. She was getting a LOT of bed rest, which would be hard on her body once she began rehab. Her muscles and joints needed to stretch and keep up their use, otherwise, she'd risk losing some mobility.

The boys, on Alfred's instructions, had stayed away to allow the two privacy. But the moment Barbara left, they came bouncing back. Though Jocelyn had long gone to her room and taken a nap to recharge her social battery.

When she woke up, there was only one thing on her mind.

"God I need a fucking drink," she groaned loudly. "Unfortunately for me, mother Alfred is monitoring everything that I order and believes in only healthy and balanced meals. So no booze for this bitch," she continued to talk to herself.

It's not that she wants to party. She didn't even like to drink much. Contrary to popular belief, it was more occasional stress relief and, at this moment, a good way to numb the pain.

Leaning back, she began blowing raspberries and making dumb sounds to cure her boredom. It was far too early to sleep but too late to take another nap. She could watch a movie or read a book, but she didn't have much of an attention span at the moment.

"That's it," She sat up and switched to her messages. Finding the right name, she grinned madly and sent a few short texts.

There was a sign to say her message had been read and five minutes later there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called out, a wide giddy expression taking over her face.

"Someone order a bunch of booze and a tall snack?" The door swung open and Dick Grayson stood proudly at the entrance. Hands propped on his hip in a sassy gesture.

"I see the booze but not the snacks," she mused, feigning disappointment. Dick deflated but was quick to close the door and run to her side.

"I was surprised to get your text. How did you know I kept a stash in my room?" He began showing off what he had and classic red cups to go with it.

"Because Jason and I used to steal some when you weren't at home.... what? Don't act surprised. Everyone does it. Even Alfred. I caught him replacing a whisky bottle once." She defended with a shrug.

"My life is a lie," Dick muttered, with a vacant look in his eyes. Frankly, it made a lot more sense, considering random bottles could appear full when they were originally half-empty. He always pinned it on his drunk self for being a bro.

"Did anyone notice you?" Jocelyn asked. "Alfred would kill me if he saw me drinking."

"I don't see the big deal. You aren't on as much morphine anymore since Alfred was worried about too much use and its side effects. The least we can do is give you a shot or two to help manage the pain."