Steady On Forward

Chapter 10

Jason was rudely awoken the next day by three harsh knocks on the front door.

"Hello?" he heard, and the knocking started again.

He could hear Dick crying in the bathroom as usual, so clearly he wasn't going to get the door. Ugh. Jason groaned and rolled out of bed reluctantly. "One minute," he called out, grabbing a shirt and yanking it over his head. It was probably the landlord about something stupid again.

He yanked open the front door, and was met with the sight of two cops. His stomach dropped.

Fuck he hated cops, and didn't trust them for shit, and it certainly didn't help that he had no idea why the fuck they were there.

"Can I help you?" he finally said, as calmly as possible.

"Are you Mr. Peters?" one of them asked.

"Yeah that's me." This apartment was leased under 'Jason Peters', and the landlord and neighbors all knew him by that name.

"Is Mr. Grayson here?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?" he asked carefully. His hackles were up, but he didn't want to sound too combative. He hadn't missed the way both of their hands had inched closer to their guns when they saw him. Cops weren't exactly known for giving physically intimidating brown men the benefit of the doubt, and even less so angry ones.

"We need to speak to him."

"Can I get a reason why?" One of their hands inched closer to the gun holster again, and Jason stood very still. "It's just not a super great time right now," he said.

"Sorry, it can't wait," the one in front said, not sounding sorry at all. "Domestic violence report, we have to check he's okay."

Jason blew out a breath. "That's a new one," he muttered. Fucking Mr. and Mrs. Donovan downstairs — he just knew it was them. They were insufferable busybodies, and they hated Jason. He was pretty sure they were racist too — always on some utterly unsubtle stuff about 'illegals' while side-eyeing Jason — but they seemed to make an exception for Dick, even though he was darker-skinned than him. He really was irresistibly charming. 

Then again, maybe they just really hated hispanic people and everybody else was fine.

"Okay," he said. "Okay, just uhm, hold on a second, let me get him." 

He heard Dick vomiting, and saw both cops look past him toward the bathroom. Well this wasn't going to be fun.

He glanced back at the cops as he headed toward the bathroom. He was pretty sure he should have invited them in or something, but it was never a good idea to let a cop in without a warrant — who knows what the fuck they'd start looking through.

Thankfully they stayed in the doorway and didn't come in after him.

He tapped lightly on the bathroom door, and heard Dick give a miserable cough. "Sweetheart?"

"Please, not now, Jay. Just...leave me alone. I know you want to help, but you can't, so please just let me be miserable alone."

Jason glanced back at the cops again, and then turned fully to the door, lowering his voice. "Dick, you know I wouldn't bother you right now if it wasn't important. Can I please open the door?"

Dick sighed, and there was a pause, before the door opened a crack. "What, Jay? What is so important?" he asked, wiping at the tear tracks on his cheeks with the back of his hand and refusing to look up at him from where he was kneeling in front of the toilet.

Fuck, this sucked. Jason knew he was the last person Dick wanted to see or hear right now when That Night was still so fresh in his mind. It couldn't really be avoided, though.