Trust Issues | Dick Grayson

twelve | drown

Valerie. ✖️

"Did you really expect to hide from me by living with one of the stupid boy wonders?!"

I wasn't sure if there was anger in his voice or not, it was hard to tell in between all the maniacal laughter.

"I don't know." I responded. It was a terrible response, but a bad response is better than no response in his eyes.

He had my hands tied behind me while I sat in a chair. Luckily, he didn't have my legs tied so if he came closer I'd at least have some protection.

"Did he have any idea how many people you've murdered?" When he said that, it felt as if he couldn't control his laughter anymore.

"I only murdered them because you told me to." I muttered. If only he knew that I did tell Dick everything, then his joke wouldn't be so funny.

"What was that?" He walked closer to me and even after working with him in the past, I still couldn't help but feel intimated by him.

"Can you just let me go?" I urged, trying once again to get my hands out of the rope he put around them. "What do you honestly expect to get from this? You can't even kill me!"

"I can't kill you, you're right." He ran his hand over my cheek and for a split second I thought he'd do what he does to all his victims with his knife. "But you can kill Night Wing."

"N-No." I shook my head. "I won't."

"So I'm assuming you won't want to see your mother anymore?" I could feel my eyes widen at his words. No, no, no.

"You told me you'd leave her alone if I did everything you said and I did!" I practically yelled in his face but in return all I got was evil laughter.

"This is part of it." He took out his knife and slowly ran it down my cheek. There wasn't enough pressure to cut skin, but enough to scare me.

"No," When he heard my response, he slowly added more pressure. I winced when I felt it cut through my skin. Just like old times.

"Oh, how I missed putting you through pain."

"You're fucking psychotic." I seethed as I felt the blood run down my cheek. He kept going and going and I tried to block out the pain as best as I could. I didn't want to cry, not in front in front of him.

"Are you barely figuring that out?" was the last thing I heard before he grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my face down on the floor, taking my chair with me.