Dick Grayson swung wildly at the blade that slashed across his skin, catching him just inside of every single block he tried to throw. His forearms were tattered by now, blood drawing the lines from his wrist to his elbow like a river would. Dick was more stubborn than usual, than he should been. Using a little more energy than he wanted too, he threw his arms out to the side, throwing the blood from them in arcs onto the floor as he pressed forward against his faceless attacker. 

The first blow caught him flush in the chest, the heavy heel drawing all of the air from his lungs. He tried to bring his arm up to block but he was too slow for the spinning back hand that crashed into the side of his face full force sending him sprawling to the ground on his back. 

Dick was disoriented now, trying to latch onto anything in his surroundings to be able to catch his bearings. Everything seemed to spin around him, throwing his center of balance off as he struggled to pull his feet beneath himself. 

Stumbling up awkwardly, as soon as Dick made it to his feet his arms dangled uselessly in front of himself. Dick wasn’t able to protect himself from the heavy blows that seemed to rain down from every single direction at the same time. Dick felt his jaw being crumpled while he simultaneously felt his temple being pounded in roughly. The blow sent him falling backwards, but not fast enough to avoid the lunging blade that followed the last blow, burying itself to the hilt in Dick’s right side, just underneath his arm, blade twisted towards his heart. 

Dick let out a gasp of surprise as his fingers weakly clutched at the strong presence before him, his eyes wildly searching for anything familiar, a scar, an eye color, a tuft of facial hair, anything. Dick was shocked as the blade withdrew, only to be slammed in again, twisted viciously this time. The dark red warmth ran down Dick’s side, from under his armpit, all the way to his hip and there wasn’t a goddamned thing that he could do about it. 

Suddenly, the cold grass he laid back against felt surprisingly hot all of a sudden.

Dick shot up in his bed, tangled in the sheets as a cold sweat poured from his brow. He was starting to lose count of how many times he had that dream. It had been happening every few days since he snuck out of Wayne Manor, leaving Jason and Emma behind. He knew that it was the wrong move to make at the moment and now his subconscious was toying with him. 

With a bit of a grumble, Dick untangled himself before swinging his feet off of the edge of the bed. Resting his elbows on his knees, he laid his head in his hands, trying to breath deep enough to slow the heart beat that raced inside of his chest. It took longer than he cared to admit but he was finally able to get his breathing under control. Lifting his watch from the nightstand, he rubbed at his eyes tiredly as the clock ticked along, 3:47am. 

It was the third time this week alone that he had the same dream, lasting a little longer each time. When he was in that dream state his body felt as if it were real, waking up every time with sore muscles as if he actually did take a beating. His head spun a bit, the pounding headache returning in full force as soon as his feet hit the floor. 

Dick just wanted to sleep. That was it. Lay his head down and not be interrupted by anything. That didn’t seem to be in the cards that he was dealt though. The harder he tried to rest, the worse things seemed to go. It felt like there were no breaks, no chances to catch his breath. 

He was wired awake now, even as he wished that he wasn’t. There was no use in trying to go back to bed so he pushed himself to his feet and went about starting his routine, albeit a little earlier than normal. It didn’t take too long, before he knew it he was dressed and running a comb through his brown locks. He strapped his watch to his wrist as he slid his keys into his pocket.

No rest for the wicked after all.

Dick ran through every scenario that he could think of in his head and every single one of them was something that he would rather be doing than what he was. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good at what he did it was quite the opposite really. He was very good at what he did. Unfortunately, what he did in most days were things on the rather unsavory side of the spectrum. 

Taking a deep breath, Dick leaned against the cold brick on the building just before the alleyway entrance. Someone had been getting ballsy and was trying to move product in the South Side. If the stuff was any good, maybe a deal could have been worked out but the truth of the matter was that it was trash. Cut way too many times and with all types of nasty things mixed in. Dick had no problem with anyone using their drug of choice as long as it didn’t effect him or those close to him but he couldn’t idly sit by and watch the seemingly endless line of over doses. It was bad for business and it brought eyes that Dick would prefer to be looking else where. 

It wasn’t all that hard to find the guy either, all it took was greasing one palm. Clearly the guy wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He most likely didn’t even realize that he was doing anything wrong. Ignorance was no excuse though and Dick was tasked with putting an end to it, one way or another. 

Dick finished his cigarette before flicking it away with two fingers before he reached into his vest pocket, sliding his fingers into the cold metal of the brass knuckles that he had stored away there. It had been a while since he used them, to the point that he couldn’t really remember when that time was. It had to have been sometime after he had left Wayne Manor, Bruce would never ok such measures. 

Dick hugged the shadows as he moved, making sure that each deliberate step was as silent as it could be. His target had no idea what hit him as Dick struck from the darkness, the sickening crunch of metal against bone echoing off the walls of the alleyway. 

”You’re in the wrong place fella.” Dick stood over the dealer as he watched his eyes unable to focus on anything. Dick was sure that the guy had no idea what hit him or even where he was at the moment. “This is the last time I see you, understand? You are dead if I do.” Dick kicked at the man’s feet, “Get the fuck out of here.”

Dick left the man collecting his own teeth but not before grabbing the duffel bag full of product that he had been attempting to move. The guy didn’t seem like he was the quickest and Dick wasn’t going to give the dealer a chance to say that he didn’t understand. At least this way was less messy albeit a little rougher than he would have liked. At least he didn’t put a bullet in him like his uppers were probably expecting. It might have been easier that way but he had done enough damage lately, every so often it was ok to tip the scales in the other direction. 

Pausing at the end of the alley, Dick pulled his lighter from his pocket and flicked the flame alive. It only took a moment or two of holding it up to the bag before it caught, the flames dancing and playing causing the shadows to come alive against the walls. He wasn’t just going to throw the stuff in the trash where any vagrant could stumble upon it. It needed to be destroyed and that was exactly what he was going to do. It felt a bit wrong to burn good drugs but these weren’t good drugs, these were the worst of the worst and he wasn’t going to let them get a foothold in his city. 

Dick didn’t bother looking back, there wasn’t going to be anything of any value to find there anyways. Sparking up another cigarette, Dick glanced down at his watch. It was still early enough that the sun hadn’t begun its climb above the horizon leaving Chicago in that middle ground of not fully light but not fully dark either. If he wasn’t doing what he was doing then it might have actually been peaceful. 

There was more to do though, more jobs to complete. Lifting a folded piece of paper from his vest pocket, he crossed out the top name on the list before reading off the next. 

No rest for the wicked after all.