Follow up Ficlet to Stars
Title: It Gives a Lovely Light
Characters: Dick/Roy
Summary: Roy sweeps Dick off to the desert.
Rating: G
Warnings: some angst at the beginning, some fluff at the end, hints of slash
Word Count: 636
Disclaimer: Dick, Roy, and Bludhaven belong to DC comics. Arizona belongs to lots of people. Nothing belongs to me.
Author's note:
stalinglim and
felonaz encouraged me to write this sequel to my Summer Fic Fest story. Most of the first two paragraphs was written by stalinglim.
Sitting on the edge of a building, Dick looks at the sky. Patrol is over for the night.... the city hasn’t settled down, he can do no more. He finally finished that case, so Blockbuster should be out of the picture for a while. That’s something, at least.
He can't see the stars. He can't remember the last time he has. He remembers the nights he'd spent with Roy, telling the stars. He misses those days, and he misses the stars.
Shaking the gloom from his head, he shoots off a grappling line and swings towards his home. No. He swings towards the apartment he rents, the place where he eats and occasionally sleeps. Home is a long way away. Maybe it doesn’t exist at all anymore.
Shaking his heads harder, Dick tries to concentrate on the wind on his face. He’s just getting stupid and morose because he’s tired. But he can’t waste energy on brooding; he has to get home. Go collapse on a mattress for a few hours, then drag himself into his other blue uniform.
He stumbles slightly as he lands on the roof of his apartment building, fumbles his way through the security system, strips off his costume, and sprawls bonelessly on his bed. Only then does he consciously register Roy’s presence. He jack-knifes upright.
"Speedy? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Slipping, Robbie? Time was, you’d have seen me before you even landed on this roof. You’re coming to the desert with me tomorrow."
"What? Are you crazy? I can’t do that! I have work tomorrow and patrol and . . .and . . ." He’s sure he has something else he has to do, some other duty to eat away at him. He just can’t get his exhausted brain to work fast enough. " . . .and other important things," he finishes lamely.
"Call the department and tell them you’re sick. They’ll believe it, with the way you sound right now. Robin and Batgirl can take care of Blüdhaven. You’re coming to Arizona with me."
Dick blinks. He knows there must be a flaw in Roy’s reasoning, something he can exploit to make the archer leave him alone. But he hasn’t slept in thirty-six hours and he hasn’t eaten in twelve and thinking feels like swimming through molasses. Frozen molasses, he thinks, and stifles a hysterical giggle.
Apparently, his subconscious trusts Roy more than he does right now, because he can feel his eyes slipping closed. He murmurs something unintelligible, as the room goes dark around him.
The next thing he knows, he’s wrapped in something warm and soft and curled against a warm chest. Blinking blearily, he sees a small tent, and a flickering fire. The warm thing proves to be a down sleeping-bag and the chest seems to be attached to Roy. Dick yawns and snuggles closer. His pillow moves.
"Hey, Robbie. Welcome back to the land of the living. You had us scared for a while there."
"Mmm? Oh, hey. How long did I sleep?" Dick knows that he should be scared or angry. He should be pulling away and yelling about kidnaping archers or junkies. No. Not junkies. Never junkies. Besides, he feels so warm and comfortable, like a cat stretched out in a sunbeam. Curled up and warm and glutted on the kind of contact he hasn’t gotten in weeks and limp with the feel of it.
"You were out for two days, Dickie. That’s an awful long time, ‘specially if all you’re dealing with is sleep-deprivation. You’ve got to take better care of yourself."
"I take care of myself fine, for your-" Dick freezes, halfway through squirming around to glare at Roy. He stares at the sky. "Stars. I can see the stars."
He feels tears sting his eyes, as he turns to look at Roy. "The stars, Speedy. You’ve brought me the stars."