ANNO HORRIBILIS

for nightchik

by Lianne B.

Dick Grayson trudged through the cold and slush of a Chicago winter, his jacket collar turned up to block at least some of the wind from blowing down his neck. The gunshot wound in his leg still ached, more from the cold than anything else, but he wasn't limping anymore.

He considered stopping in at a bar, but his back and arms were aching from a long day working at the warehouse, so he decided to just go back to the low-end hotel he was living in and take a lukewarm shower before hitting the sack. It wasn't exactly how he'd planned to spend Christmas, but then he'd pretty much planned on ignoring it as much as possible. After the last year, he didn't really have much to celebrate.

But after Blockbuster, and Tarantula, the fight with the Outsiders, and the mess with Bruce... Well, that was why he was in Chicago instead New York, Bludhaven, or Gotham. Better to stay away, rather than ruin everyone else's mood.

Of course, they probably all knew exactly where he was. Hiding wasn't exactly easy with the costumed crowd. Besides, he'd accessed his email from a cyber cafe, so Babs knew, and he'd also used his bank account, which meant Bruce knew. His balance, the last time he'd checked, also told him that his former mentor was feeling guilty over what had happened. Dick just took what he needed for the basics, and left the rest to sit.

But everyone was thankfully leaving him alone so far. If they needed him, they could find him. They hadn't.

The hotel was thankfully warm when he walked through the doors. The décor my be tired and old, but the heating system had been well maintained over the years. Dick nodded to the young man sitting at the check-in desk, a Santa Claus hat on his head and school books on counter in front of him. Jeff nodded back, and then strangely, winked at him.

Dick frowned, but didn't stop. The shower was calling him, followed by his bed. Tomorrow was Christmas day, and if he worked it properly, he could sleep straight through it, since he was planning to spend it alone.

The door to his room was closed, but Dick hesitated, his hand an inch from the lock with his key. Few people would have noticed anything amiss, but he'd been taught by the best. He slipped the key back in his coat pocket, then gripped the knob carefully and turned it slowly, not surprised to find it unlocked. Thoughts of different enemies ran through his head, but so did Jeff's wink. Finally, he jerked the door open, looking to catch whoever was inside -- friend or foe -- off guard.

"Merry Christmas, short pants!"

Dick blinked. While finding Roy waiting for him wasn't a huge surprise -- he should be glad that the redhead had left him alone even that long -- everything else was.

The room was filled. Filled with Christmas decorations. Candles burned around the room, putting off a warm glow that contrasted with the grim gray of the sky outside. Garland hung from the ceiling around the perimeter of the room, and evergreen boughs filled the air with a crisp green scent. And on the top of the low dresser was a small Christmas tree with brightly wrapped boxes around it. The bed was covered in new linens in red and green, and Roy was sprawled out on top, reading a dirty magazine that had been in the desk drawer when Dick and moved in. Dick winced.

"Roy..."

"I know, you're amazed and impressed beyond belief in my thoughtfulness."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Roy," he said, a little more firmly.

"Yeah, I know, but if you think that I'm going to let you get all broody on Christmas eve, you've got another thing coming. That's just too much like ol' Pointy Ears, if you know what I mean."

Dick winced. How many times had he heard that one? "How did you get in here?" he asked, going for the obvious question.

That got him a wicked grin. "Simple. I told the guy down at the desk that I was a friend. A very *special* friend."

"Shit," Dick groaned. Well, that certainly explained the wink. "Roy." He took a deep breath.

"I know. I *shouldn't* have," Roy said archly. Then he got slightly more somber. "Lian was disappointed that Uncle Dick isn't coming for the holidays."

Ouch. Dirty pool. "I'm not good company."

"Like she cares." Roy eyed him. "Is it because of Jade taking over the team?"

"Of course not," Dick said, shaking his head, even though he was still a little hurt by that; intellectually, he agreed with the decision, despite what it said about him.

"Or her bringing in Starfire? I told her that it was a bad idea, but she got this crazy idea that it would be good for you. Not everyone wants to spend time with their ex, I told her, but no, she figures that Starfire would be able to shake you out of your funk."

Dick hung his coat in the narrow closet, and toed out of his work boots while shoving his hat, scarf, and gloves on the shelf above the rail. "It's nothing specific," he finally told Roy. "It's just... well, everything, starting with Donna, and then..." He stopped with a wince. "Let's just say that a lot has been going on, and little of it pleasant."

"I'll bet," Roy growled. "And that little bitch should be thankful she's behind bars, because I was looking forward to tossing her down a very deep hole and covering it over with a boulder that Superman wouldn't be able to budge. Nobody screws with my people."

Screws. Lovely term. At least Dick was finally to the point where he could admit what she had done to him, physically and mentally, although he still shied away from the actual word. Not his proudest moment, letting her turn him into an accessory to murder. But he'd finally done the right thing, although Amy had refused to let him go the full distance. Undercover. Like anyone was going to believe that little fable. He didn't bother to ask Roy where he'd heard the sordid details, since he had a couple good guesses.

His jeans were starting to thaw, and he was bound to the knees in wet denim, so he stripped them off, not caring that Roy was still watching him with an expression of complete understanding as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Dick had Tarantula, and Roy had Cheshire. At least Roy had gotten a wonderful little girl out of it.

That thought froze him. That first time, on the roof, he'd been out of it. So out of it, he didn't know if she'd used any protection. The thought of Catalina, in jail, pregnant with *his* kid... Shit. He prayed that didn't happen.

Then Roy grabbed his wrist and tugged him down onto the bed. The garishly colored duvet was wonderfully warm, partly from the Roy pre- heating. There were things he wanted to say, but his eyes were already drifting shut. Alone in a strange city, he rarely slept soundly. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a good night's sleep. But he could trust Roy to watch his back. One of the very few he trusted.

Roy was stroking his hair, curled up tightly against him. They hadn't shared a bed since before the shooting. Before Donna, in fact. It was nice.

"Go to sleep, short pants," Roy said gently. "Lian's with Grandpa Ollie, and I have Bruce's jet. They're expecting us by lunch tomorrow."

"But," Dick murmured sleepily.

"No buts. Garth and Wally are coming too. After all, Christmas is a time for families. And like it or not, Dick, you're family." Roy kissed the back of his head, then settled down.

Dick found himself smiling, and relaxed. Family. And the best kind.

And maybe next year would be better.

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