Robin one shot part 3!

Pt 2

TW: MENTIONS OF RAPE, UNDERAGE DRINKING AND SMOKING

https://rapecrisis.org.uk/get-help/looking-for-information/rape-crisis-services/helplines-emotional-support/

https://www.itv.com/thismorning/rape-helplines

I think the ending of that one needed something a little lighter? I don't know

Again if I have done something that is offensive it was not my intention and please point out what it is so I can make changes quickly

Six months later

Dick was different after that. Nobody expected him to be the same but expecting something and then actually seeing it were two different things. He didn't like hugs anymore. He couldn't stand his Robin suit now but he kept that fact to himself. He was a lot more violent when he was on the streets. His happy-go-lucky attitude was long since dead. In therapy, he was quiet. He waited for his time with Dinah to run out without uttering much more than a hello. One time he decided to put in his earphones and listen to YouTube videos for the entire hour, completely ignoring all her attempts to start a conversation. Cass found him smoking on a few occasions. Damian found him drunk at 1 am, a bottle of Bruce's whiskey in hand and tears staining his face. He trained a lot more. No matter how many times they told him he was going to hurt himself going at the pace he was, he never stopped. He was determined to not let it happen again. Sleep was something he knew nothing of. Dick would nap here and there but he'd spend most of the night awake, a cigarette in hand as he watched the sunrise. Some days he wondered why the empty feeling would linger there. It wasn't like he could go back in time and stop it. Still, it felt like at any moment he'd be back in that room. When he had the moments of reliving it, he always hoped someone would come before it began. He knew they wouldn't but he still hoped. Dick planned on never changing his ways. He planned to keep going till he died either due to the alcohol, his night job, or the excessive chain-smoking. That was until, by chance, he talked to Harley Quinn.

He was Robin at the time. He was on a smoke break on some rooftop. He'd turned off his communicator, not wanting to be bothered by some fake emergency call to an intervention to address his behaviour. It'd happened six times already. He only kept falling for it because there were so many real emergencies between them. Now though? If they were in trouble, they could wait until he finished.

"Sup birdbrain," Harley Quinn greeted.

"Have you come here to kidnap me? If so, do it now so I don't waste my cigs," he replied bluntly. She sat down beside him, her feet dangling over the edge as she made them sway every so often. She looked out onto Gotham's skyline with a soft expression on her face. Robin couldn't quite tell what that expression was. It seemed calm but Harley was never calm. He stared at her suspiciously but shrugged it off. 

"No kidnapping today I'm afraid. Too much work. Plus I still have a crick in my neck since you beat me up the last time," she answered. 

"Oh. Yeah. Caught me on a bad day," he explained briefly. He pulled out his cigarette and lit it, offering one to the sort of villain. She was in a grey space at the moment. Neither friend nor foe. He didn't mind. She put a hand up, declining the offer.