(Untitled)

[lost_undercover]

Who: Dick Grayson, Billy Costigan; Paddy, Tim, Damon (Otherwise, open; ask to join)
When: Tues (1/11) to Mon (1/17)
Where: Dick's room
What: Costigan tries to get clean. Withdrawals ensue.
Warnings: Drug references, language, violence, hallucinations, self-harm

Comments

[45ish hours since last dose]

[batmanschmatman]

Dick hadn't realized he'd dozed off until he was blinking and pushing himself back up in the arm chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes. It was probably a sign that he maybe shouldn't be doing this while still recovering from a relatively serious injury, because usually, keeping himself awake for somewhere around forty hours straight wouldn't have been a problem. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been asleep for.

At least Costigan was still there, and if he'd been out for as long as it felt like he'd been, there apparently there hadn't been anything too horrible going on while he'd been out. Maybe the inmate had even been able to get some sleep too.

He scrubbed his hand over his eyes again, fighting back a yawn, blinking at the inmate curiously. He frowned.

"What are you doing?"

[lost_undercover]

Still entirely unable to sleep, Costigan had just been stewing in his own misery. He never felt when his mood had changed, but it was definitely different now. When Dick had fallen asleep, the former undercover had managed to get himself another blanket from the closet, though it was discarded on the floor at the moment, and had actually finished the bottle of water. He was irrationally hungry and still nauseous and close to vomiting again.

"Fahk you," the inmate replied without missing a beat. Costigan was on his communicator, trying to figure out which of his friends he could trust to bring him food and which of them had begun to turn against him or which had been against him from the beginning. He began to type a reply in to someone, laying on his side facing away from Dick, screen illuminating his face.

[batmanschmatman]

Dick immediately felt himself kicking into action, shaking off the lingering effects of his nap. He couldn't afford to fall asleep again, especially as things got worse. Costigan could easily injure himself or start having a seizure or something, and he needed to be awake and ready to deal with it.

He pushed himself out of the chair and walked over to the inmate, holding out his hand expectantly.

"Costigan, give me that. Remember what happened the last time?"

Referring, of course, to the last time the inmate had tried getting clean. He'd told Dick he'd managed to alienate some of his friends by transferring his increased paranoia to the network, and he'd said he didn't want to go through that again. Dick was more then happy to help prevent that if at all possible, or at least try and control the damage.

[lost_undercover]

"Yeah, I do, kid. You weren't fahkin' heah foah it." Costigan forced himself to sit up, propping himself immediately against the wall. He shifted with his back to the wall so as to face Dick, glaring at the man who was trying to ruin his friendships in order to encourage Costigan to work only with him. It was practically as bad as Nygma. The inmate held out one hand in a sort of testing gesture, the one that stung like it was about to fall apart, and used the other, relatively working hand to continue typing out his message.

"You'ah heah to look out fah me. That's all. So if I don't want youah help? You can leave me the fahk alone."

[batmanschmatman]

Dick didn't back down. He was going to give him one more chance, and then he'd be taking it away from him whether he liked it or not. Even concussed and sort of tired, Dick wasn't someone who caved easily to people, and he had known this was probably going to happen anyway. He knew that his inmate's paranoia would only get worse the longer this went on, and he didn't need him dealing with the backlash of friends he'd managed to piss off after this was over. Costigan had enough stuff to worry about.

"Costigan, give it to me."

Even if he hadn't consciously meant for it to happen, he'd slipped into the Bat voice. He wasn't asking, he was ordering, and he was more then willing to take it by force if he had to. He'd just prefer it if he didn't have to.

[lost_undercover]

Costigan wasn't the type to back down. He was Irish and Bostonian and the combination lent itself to a stubborn brand of people even before he was ever associated with Costello. Even though his arms and legs felt like death and he was on the verge of vomiting and his head was still that kind of cloudy feeling that made it difficult to realize what you were doing, the Statie was angry and he wasn't about to let his warden start ordering him around. Especially given Dick's recent attitudes.

"Ah you not understanding me, trainee? I'm all set without youah wahdening bullshit." His reply was as much to provoke Dick into a fight as it was to stop his warden from ordering him around. Besides, the undercover sincerely did need to organize an escape from this bastard -- preferably to the dining hall, where he could get some goddamn food for the hunger that seemed like it would never end, despite everything else.

[batmanschmatman]

Fine, if that's how he wanted it. He already knew that Costigan was going to end up being pretty much his equal when it came to being stubborn and unimpressed by intimidation, and he could handle that. Right now he had the advantage of feeling a lot less like crap, and Costigan tried to make a break for it or lash out, the odds were in Dick's favor, even ignoring the fact that he was... well. A former Gotham vigilante.

He grabbed at the communicator, expecting retaliation, but not actually sure of what that would entail. Costigan looked miserable enough that he wouldn't be shocked if he couldn't stand up on the first try, but he knew he shouldn't underestimate him. He'd been trained to be prepared for anything, and he wasn't letting his guard down just because his inmate probably felt like death warmed over. Even if Dick was a superior combatant, the inmate was still a potential threat.

[lost_undercover]

While Dick's hand found the communicator immediately, Costigan didn't let go and instead was yanked forwards by his warden's attempt to remove it from him. The inmate found his balance (still on the bed, now kneeling) fairly quickly, somewhat adjusting to the excruciating pain wracking his limbs. He lifted his arm to swing his free hand, in a fist, at Dick's kidney only slightly slower than usual. It didn't matter how much he hurt, there had to be some way to get rid of that demeaning look at his warden's face.

[batmanschmatman]

Dick was - in a weird way - sort of impressed by his inmate's moxie. He doubted he was totally aware of what was going on or in control of his actions, but not backing down even when feeling like shit was sort of impressive. Sort of. At the moment Dick was more concerned with narrowly avoiding the fist coming at him.

Immediately, he went back for the communicator. They'd basically passed the point of no return, and he was going to get it away from him no matter how much he fought back.

He just hoped he didn't have to resort to nerve striking him.

[lost_undercover]

Costigan dropped the communicator on the bed to grab at Dick's shirt with both hands, wanting to pull the guy down to his level. The inmate was having trouble connecting his thoughts to his actions to his actual movements, but his body seemed to be working rather well in the automated withdrawal mode it found itself in and he could be satisfied with that for now in his disconnected place. It almost felt like he was watching it all happen now, rather than committing the acts himself.

"Get the fahk off, you fahkin'--" He grunted as he tried to shove the warden back and, failing that, given his lack of balance and stretch, tried to punch him in the cheek this time.

[batmanschmatman]

Costigan got lucky with the grab, the motion combined with the after effects of the bat to the head combining just enough to throw Dick's balance off enough that he was disorientated long enough for the next blow to actually connect. The fist caught him in the eye and he staggered backwards, narrowly avoiding falling on his ass.

"Hey, you grabbed me," he snarked, purely out of habit. He could tell he was probably getting out of here with a shiner, but the blow probably wasn't bad enough to actually wreck his vision with swelling or anything. That being said, he should probably try and avoid taking any more blows to the head, his brain had probably had enough getting knocked against his skull for one week.

He darted forward and snatched the communicator. "I'm trying to help you, Costigan. You said you didn't want to screw things up again, remember?"

[lost_undercover]

Costigan moved to stand in the limited time he had, but it wasn't enough. By the time he had regained his balance and suppressed the pain of trying to make his legs work, Dick was already grabbing the communicator. The inmate did the only thing he could really think of, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around the other man's shoulders and neck area as best he could to try to attack him from behind. The inmate was practically jumping on him based on the different postures, but it seemed enough to make an impact at least. He tried to pull Dick backward to strangle or drop the warden, but his coordination was impaired and it was difficult to make any feasible reaction work smoothly.

[batmanschmatman]

Please, like Dick had never been jumped from behind before. He'd been prepared to compensate for any further changes in equilibrium and immediately he dislodged the inmate's arms, rolling him off in a well practiced move to dump him on the ground. He'd tried to be as gentle as possible while still getting him off, because he didn't want to hurt him more then he had to. Guy had enough to worry about without bruised ribs or anything.

He let out a slow breath, tucking the communicator in the pocket of his jeans, wondering where he could hide it, before turning back to the inmate, still on guard for any retaliation that could be coming.

"You okay?"

[lost_undercover]

Costigan hit the ground like a sack of rocks. He froze with the blast of pain, his mind genuinely stopping for a few seconds to fully comprehend the pain and to begin to recover from it. Each limb curled partially in toward him as he lay there stunned and damaged. He realized after the fact that Dick had spoken to him, but couldn't be bothered to hear the words. The inmate still had some fight in him, after all, for as long as he was breathing.

But then, his body had other plans. The inmate suddenly rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow as he began to vomit onto the carpet. Any sense of guilt or any realization for how absolutely vile his present actions were was buried deep beneath his present state in some part of his conscious, rational mind that was no longer accessible.

[batmanschmatman]

Dick immediately dropped to his knees next to the inmate, more concerned with the longer term implications for the former undercover's health then the carpet or anything. During the time he'd been asleep he hadn't been able to monitor how much water he was drinking, and he was worried about what this could mean. First priority after he stopped was to get him back on the couch with some more water, and hopefully he'd be able to keep it down a little while longer if he wasn't trying to deck his warden.

Part of him wanted to reach out and comfort the inmate, while the other more rational side - aided slightly by the sting above his cheekbone of the blossoming bruise from the lucky punch to the face - kept him from doing it. He didn't want to provoke him further, even if he just wanted to help.

"It's okay."

[lost_undercover]

Costigan heaved thrice before throwing up once more. He had nothing to wipe his face with, so when he felt he was finished, the inmate forced himself up to lean back on the bed's side, still sitting on the floor. His eyes drifted closed as he tried to think, but no conscious thoughts would come. When his body began to shiver slightly, he groaned and tried to reach up above him for the blanket. Halfway there, he winced at the new pain in his arm and dropped it to his side again.

"Fahkin'.. towel.. blanket..?" It was all he could do ask for help; forming coherent sentences was too much to demand on his mind. Even if the bastard warden was trying to cut him off from the outside world in order to turn him, he could still use the supplies for now.