HOMEMADE DYNAMITE !
❝ BAD HABITS. ❞

FUCK. That had been Abby's preliminary thought as she approached the warehouse still clad in the same outfit she had just driven seven hours in. She was exhausted. But her friends needed her. The things you do, right? She chuckled to herself as she clambered up the metal rungs of the ladder and onto the side of the building, then the roof, then through a open skylight and down onto the rickety catwalk. Below her, a crowd of men caged Hank and Dawn.

Panic gripped her. Steel fingers clamping down on her chest as she watched, squeezing the air from her lungs. Abigail began making her way towards the next ladder when a bone-chilling scream curdled her blood, a dying scream. It was instantly followed by another, and another. The brunette glanced over her shoulder to see Robin had arrived at the scene, as blood splattered up the wall, along with various other things. He vanished as the group scattered, and Hank and Dawn struggled to their feet.

No time for a casual descent down the stairs, Abigail quickly swung herself from the metal beams onto the nearest lamp, which creaked and groaned and threatened to snap under her weight, jumping down onto the roof of the van. The metal bowed and bent beneath her feet before Abigail dropped onto the floor. Straightening herself, she brushed the dust from her body as she looked upwards. The two vigilantes looked at her, their expressions unreadable under their masks and goggles.

Abigail raised her eyebrows, boots thudding against the concrete floor as she approached them, "Having fun, love birds?"

"You shouldn't have come here," Hank grunted, noticing how overwhelmingly underprepared and underarmed she was.

Abigail glared at him as she moved to their side, "And you two shouldn't have come alone."

"We didn't," Dawn muttered, her voice a peculiar combination of annoyance and concern, "Didn't you see Batman Jr?"

"The screams were enough," Abigail said through clenched teeth, though worry was clear as she glanced in the direction of the fighting and placed a gentle hand on Dawn, "Are you two okay to get back? Do you need me? I can help you if —."

"Abby, we both know it wasn't just us you came here to protect," Dawn interrupted softly, and Abigail didn't need to see behind the tinted visor to know that Dawn saw right through her.

"Old habits die hard, Queenie," Abby admitted. Both her nighttime activities and her inability to abandon Dick Grayson.

Hank's face overcame with a pained but shit-eating grin as he jerked his head towards the screams, "Go save your little psychopath, Lance."

Abigail's eyes rolled sarcastically, but she vanished into the shadows, the only sound of her being footsteps against metal beams. She followed the splatters of blood and hallowing screeches like a treasure map towards the source, towards Dick Grayson. The brunette spotted him through a dirt and dust splattered window. It was clean compared to the ones soaked in blood. He was greeting another man's bones with his knuckles as though years and years of anger and pain and grief were pouring out of him.

A scuffle drew her attention to a poor, misguided soul's attempt to sneak up on the vigilante, trembling hand trying to raise his gun. Abigail acted instinctively, racing forwards, grabbing a stray chair as she went and hurtling it through the glass. She launched herself through the window after it, entering the room in a shower of glass and metal. Turning her fall into a roll, she came up in a run and crashed into Dick Grayson, tackling him to the floor as two gunshots cracked the air. Just missing them.

The two hit the ground, hard.

Dick was beneath her, arms still wound around her waist and back from when he'd grabbed her as they'd fell. Their legs were tangled, breaths short and shallow. Abigail slowly lifted her head from where it had nestled into his chest, despite the suit of armour. She found her eyes a mere breath from his, faces inches apart, lips painfully close. This brought back memories. His gaze wandered from her eyes down to her lips, and she felt her heart in her throat. Despite herself, despite the anger and hurt she should've felt, a coy smile twisted onto her busted lips. 

"Still saving your ass, Grayson."

Then she untangled herself from him, jumping to her feet and turning to face the criminal, wasting no time as she grabbed his gun. Twisting it from his hand as she delivered a sharp elbow to the face, she dropped the fire arm and grabbed the man by his throat, throwing him to the ground.

Behind her, Dick Grayson had stood to his feet, and the Gotham hero was staring at the Star City vigilante. A small, nostalgic smile graced his lips. His face was warm and soft and watching her with a look she knew all too well. It dropped as soon as she saw it, his arm curving in before he hurtled one of his signature R blades at her. She supposed it wasn't a bad way to go. At least it was him.

But the weapon sailed straight past her.

Spinning, Abigail looked over her shoulder to see a scar-faced man drop a nasty looking blade, the sharp edge clattered against the floor as he clutched his wounded hand and let out a cry. A storm filled her features and she planted her foot into the joint of his knee, the sharp snap sounding his collapse to the floor in agony. She watched him hold his broken leg with his bleeding hand before she picked up a metal pipe that had been abandoned on the ground and smashed it against his face ruthlessly.

Abigail heard a crash and a grunt, turning to find a brave dealer had attached himself to Robin's back like a parasite, crowbar pulled tight against his neck. Her eyes flashed, widening, panicking. Shit. She caught his eye in time to throw the pole at him. The vigilante caught it with his free hand, whacking it against the man's hip with brute force before he drew back his elbow and hit home in the man's face with a sickening crack. The criminal tripped backwards, hands grabbing at his gushing nose, haemorrhaging red. Abigail was on him in a second.

Racing forwards, she ploughed into the crook knee first, crushing her kneecap into his kidneys, the two of them hitting the cross hatched wiring behind. Forearm pressed against his throat, she landed another blow to his stomach with her knee, took two steps back and wiped the blood on her cheek from his nose, then grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him back towards the direction she'd run from.

He was met by a fist, which hit his back with force and slammed his flying body down onto the cold ground. The two heroes felt their gazes rise back to one another and the caped crusader's lips parted, words practically about to tumble from them; but Abigail didn't give him the chance, casually stepping over the unconscious felon, back towards Hank and Dawn.

TENSION HAD FILLED THE WALK BACK TO THE APARTMENT. Abigail found herself walking alongside Hank, the two of them quietly sparring back and forth with words as Dawn and Dick trailed behind them, consumed in thoughts. Hank tripping up the pavement whilst trying to counter a response from Abigail had gained a few laughs, though. And teases. Dawn continued in silence, her lips sealed until they had stopped at the door and Hank was fumbling with the keys and then you weren't kidding when you said you'd changed.

Even Hank stiffened beside her. Abigail hesitated, the same way Hank's key did over the lock, as they waited with short breath for Dick's response. It never came, but Dawn wasn't one to quit so easily.

"I've never seen you like that before." the white haired woman's words were conflicted, her feelings of distress and unease and fear in a melting pot.

He never was like that. The words hung unsaid on Abigail's lips, leaving a sour taste on her tongue. She'd seen the darkness inside of Dick Grayson. And it was dark. But it wasn't this. This was isolation, this was loneliness, this was what happened when he pushed them away. But it wasn't him. No. She wouldn't accept that. Hank opened the door and she drifted in, her eyes searching the room for blue hair skin, for Rachel. She frowned.

Abigail slipped off her leather jacket, dropping the black coat on the back of the sofa as she peered into the spare room, half expecting to see the girl with the tv on or a pair of earphones in. Gone. She stopped herself from panicking. How the fuck do you lose the antichrist?

"Rachel?"

Dick's voice called out her inner thoughts. Abigail's eyes followed him as he paced the apartment, watching as the lines of his frown etched deeper into his face. She caught herself staring. The former gymnast pressed his lips together, before he whispered a curse under his breath and darted out of the room, towards the stairs leading to the roof.

Abigail exchanged a brief glance with Hank and Dawn before following after him. The higher she climbed, the colder it got, the night's breeze drifting in, soaking her in ice. She stepped out into darkness, fitting in like a puzzle piece, her eyes still accustomed to the lack of light. She spotted Rachel in moments, by Dawn's dove cage. Dick shouted back down at the couple that they'd found her, Abby brushed past him to approach Rachel.

She placed a whisper of a touch on her shoulder. The blue haired girl flinched. Fear. But for who? Rachel turned to face her, and one look was all Abby needed to know this girl was hurting.

"You okay, kid?" Abigail asked softly. A leaf on an autumnal breeze. She already knew the answer. No.

But instead of answering, Rachel held out a crumbled package, messy scrawl on the front of it. Dick's handwriting. Oh god. Abigail knew what it was going to say as soon as she saw the thick bulk of cash outlined against the envelope. He wouldn't. She was almost too afraid to look, to feel the last thread fall into place on what he had become. She took the letter out.

Her hand smoothed the creased page, fingers barely touching the writing he'd left. You're better than this, Grayson. Her eyes flashed, conflict appearing, too many thoughts and feelings for Rachel to register all of them. But she tried, she placed her hand on Abigail's, both comfort and curiosity. Familiarity, that's all Rachel felt. A bone aching, soul crushing wave of hurt. This wasn't the first time Abigail Lance had seen Dick Grayson leave.

Rachel's chest twinged. Her comforting hand remained, but Abigail's touch soon turned as cold as the air around them. She faced the Boy Wonder and Rachel swore, if looks could kill the man would be dead twice over already. Her brown eyes cut Dick Grayson deep, and he knew immediately what she had read. He opened his lips to reply, to apologise, to say something that would fix the way he had hurt Rachel. To fix the way Abby was looking at him.

"Abs..." The name was like a fragile ghost on his lips. All too easily carried away into the graveyard of stars above.

Before he could say another word, Rachel's heartbroken voice drifted in between his silence, "You were gonna leave me here. You said you weren't but... you lied." The girl frowned, childlike confusion on her face, "You must lie a lot," Rachel continued, her words stinging, "You're good at it."

Despite the girl speaking to him, Grayson felt his eyes move to Abby, who's expression was exactly what he was hoping it wouldn't be. What he had spent four years trying not to imagine. Suffering. Suffering caused by him. He was good at it. But he'd never lied to her. Not to Abs. Not until he left. But in those moments, he lied to himself, too.

"What she talking about?"

Hank's usual brutish tone burst into the night as he emerged into the roof. Dawn followed suit, her hair trailing against the night like a fading lifeline. The two of them stopped at the scene before them. They didn't know what they'd walked into, but seeing Abigail's face was more than enough to push Hank to the brink of anger. Dawn knew immediately, but the confused pull of Hank's brows told Rachel he didn't. She took the letter and parcel from Abigail's frail grasp, carrying it over to the man.

Abigail's gaze stuck to the Boy Wonder, watching his face twist and contort before he stretched after Rachel, towards Hank and Dawn, "Hank, don't read that. I —."

"It's got my name on it," Hank interrupted, his stance turning defensive, warding him away, as his eyes skimmed across the letter, the parcel, the lie, "The fuck? Again, Dick?"

He looked up at the man before him. Hank's eyes were sharp, ironic to his heroic namesake, his face almost a sneer. He took one look at Abby and knew, he knew, the damage Dick Grayson was about to cause. The damage he always caused.

"You were gonna leave her here?" Hank questioned, although it was more of a statement, "You were gonna pay us?"

"It's not that simple." Even he didn't believe his words anymore.

"'I know you guys can watch out for her'," Hank quoted, eyebrows and expression challenging, "Seems simple enough to me. You were gonna buy us?"

"Hey, c'mon," Dawn tried to remedy Hank's anger, touching his arm, "slow down."

"No, he's leaving again — you saw what it did to Abby, you really wanna let him do it to this ki— wait," Hank's voice was livid until it stopped cold, before he wrenched his arm from Dawn, his eyes flooded with hurt, "You knew? You knew about this? You saw what he did — he's a psychopath!"

"Hey, now, Hank," Abby interrupted, stepping closer, attempting to calm the man down.

"Don't. Don't defend him, Tremors," Hank pleaded, pity filling his gaze, "Not after what he did."

She knew exactly what he meant. It had haunted her. His lips and his voice and his eyes, his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the colour of his hair. How she had seen Dick Grayson's face every night for weeks when she closed her eyes, and felt her heart break every morning when she opened them and he wasn't there. But she sighed. Let out the pain in her chest with a nonchalant shrug.

Abby looked to Dawn, before back to Hank, "You know me better than that."

Dawn looked over at her, hands still on Hank's face, her eyes soft. They didn't seemed to notice the roof door open, no one paid attention to it closing. Then a voice cut over them all, and Abigail's stomach sank. She turned to see a quaint family of four stood behind her neatly. The idyllic nuclear family.

"Well hello there, you five."

NOTE!
wElp this chapter had to be rewritten three times cause i wasn't happy buT HERE WE GO???? anywho, lemme know what you thought kids xx