Chapter Text
In retrospect it should have been obvious that the knock on the door would bring bad news.
Things had been going slowly for just over a week now, and while usually a bit of peace and quiet would be welcome, Dirk had been getting all kinds of antsy waiting for the unsettling feeling creeping up and down his spine to reveal itself to be either nothing at all, a sign he should buy a new mattress, or a hunch. He's been hoping it's not a hunch, because the ones that unsettle him before he even knows what they are are never fun to deal with so, naturally, it turns out to be just that.
He doesn't know that when the knock sounds though. It only becomes entirely too obvious when he opens the door and he opens his mouth to speak but chokes on his words before he can get them out, panic washing over him so abruptly he forgets how to breathe. The smile falls off his face, frozen in place and shoulders tense when he realises there isn't anywhere he could run to, and he certainly couldn't bring himself to fight. He feels trapped, a deer in the headlights, a rabbit staring down a wolf. A wolf that hasn’t even said anything yet.
Colonel Riggins looks older and much more tired than the last time he saw him but it doesn't make him feel any less intimidated by his presence. If it didn't turn his stomach it would almost be impressive how small he can make him feel just by being here, like he’s all of ten years old again with the heavy weight of his disapproval weighing down his shoulders. Like he wants to drop his eyes, like he wants to say he’s sorry. He can taste the word on his tongue already like it’s begging to be let out. Like it could save him.
It never did before, he doubts it will now.
“Dirk?” Todd’s voice pulls him back to the present, shaking him out of whatever place his mind was trying to send him back to. Riggins seems to pre-empt his movement, putting his hand on the door before Dirk tries to slam it. Gentle force, like always.
“I just want to-” he starts but Dirk doesn't care. He can’t be here, he shouldn’t be here. Not here. Not now.
“No!” he shakes his head, moves to take a step back but just ends up swaying on the spot, too afraid to let go of the door in case he opens it further and steps inside. “No. I'm sorry, we're closed. You’ll have to come back some other time, or never, really.” It's not true at all but his head is spinning far too much to come up with a better excuse.
“Dirk,” and god he wants to slap that name right out of his mouth because it's not his, it's not for him and he doesn't deserve to know it let alone say it, but it's better than the alternative he supposes. He still hates the way he says it, like he’s talking to a child even now. He thinks he knows it’ll get to him, he was always good at masking his manipulation with caring concern. “I'm not here to do anything other than talk.”
“I don't want to hear it,” he’s trying so hard not to let on how much he's getting to him, he doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but he always gets to him. Always makes him want to say yes, want to make promises, want to be good. He hates that he still wants to make him proud, that the thought of displeasing him turns his stomach with fear and guilt and shame.
“You don't even-”
“He said no.” Todd. Todd is here and he looks… like he's waiting to be angry. His tone is firm and leaves no room for argument, arms crossed over his chest as he puts himself just in front of Dirk like he's ready to step between them if he needs to.
Dirk doesn't think he's ever been so grateful to see him.
Riggins looks him up and down, looks between him and Dirk like he's assessing the merits of pushing the situation, and eventually sighs to himself.
“I wanted you to have this,” there's a box at his feet that Dirk hadn’t realised was there until he moves to pick it up, he recognises the symbol stamped across the top of it and his grip on the door turns so hard his knuckles go white with the force of it. “It's gone. Orders from on high to shut the whole thing down and I wanted to…” he trails off, and god he looks tired, but Dirk doesn't want to feel any sympathy for him. He shakes his head. “These belong to you, anyway. You can do what you want with them. If you change your mind about talking then there's a contact number in there. I'm… it's up to you. Whatever you want.” Dirk can only stare at him, he wants to feel angry, to dig down and find that rage that sometimes overcomes him at the thought of the man. To throw it back in his face at the thought of now being up to him, wondering what's changed and oh how gracious he is to allow that. It’s easier to be angry when he isn’t stood right in front of him making him feel so very small though, and all he can do is nod.
Todd takes the box from him, because someone has to and Dirk doesn’t look like he’s going to move any time soon. This time he does step between them, into the space of the open door.
“You're done. You can go now.” Riggins looks like he wants to protest but instead he nods once, putting his hat back on and there's something almost soft in the way he looks at Dirk. Almost paternal.
“I'm glad to see you're doing well,” he says before turning on his heel and walking away.
Todd sets the box down off to the side, easing the door out of Dirk’s grip to close it behind him. Dirk doesn't realise how much he'd been relying on it for support until it's no longer there and he wobbles dangerously, saved from falling by Todd catching him and guiding them both down to the floor, his voice is gentle and reassuring but Dirk isn't listening to what he's saying.
He’d been here.
His skin feels itchy in the worst kind of way. Everything is too close and his chest is too tight, he can’t breathe, and he scrambles to pull his tie off and throw it to the side, fingers shaking as he undoes the top few buttons of his shirt to try and alleviate some of the pressure. It’s still there though, whatever that feeling is, clawing its way up his throat and threatening to suffocate him. He’d been here. In his space. His new life. He wasn’t stupid, he’d known Blackwing had known where he was, he has a giant sign with his name on it for fucks sake, but for some reason he’d never contemplated seeing him ever again. He’s trembling all over he soon realises, gasping for breath and oh, that’s why he feels dizzy. He doesn’t even realise he’s tugging at his hair until there are hands, strong and steady around his wrists and he tries to jerk away but there’s nowhere to go because he’s sat against the door and they never like it when he gets like this, and oh god he’d shouted at Riggins, he’s going to be in so much trouble.
“Hey, hey. Dirk, c’mon. You’re going to hurt yourself.” The voice doesn’t fit. The words don’t fit. The tone doesn’t fit. That name doesn’t fit. For one wild moment Dirk wonders if he’s straight up lost his mind.
Then his breath finally catches and he inhales sharply. It’s not much better than before, the staccato rise and fall of his chest as he tries to get some semblance of rhythm back into his lungs, but at least now he’s breathing at all.
“Come on,” there’s a hand rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, steady and grounding as he tries to find a way to tether himself to the present.
“I- it’s- I c-can’t-” the words are no easier and he abandons them in favour of shaking his head and pressing his lips together.
“You can. You can, come on. In and out, you can do it.” Something in the back of his mind tells him that the voice is familiar, safe. He doesn’t know how true that is but whoever it belongs to is tugging his hand away from his hair and pressing it against their own chest. “Just like this, breathe with me.”
It takes him a minute to work out what he means, and then he’s letting himself fall into the steady rhythm below his hand and trying to copy it. The choppiness of his breath finally starting to calm down after a few long moments as he starts to piece together his surroundings.
Sunlight. It’s bright in the room, one long window spilling it over the floor and up the walls. Nothing like being in a box. The door at his back is solid, the floor too. His shirt is soft against his skin and far, far removed from the itchiness of military issue jumpsuits. It smells familiar, light and clean but not overly sterile. Somewhere there’s a hint of something berry scented. A candle, he remembers. One Todd had laughed at him for buying but he’d caught him lighting later on.
Todd.
The heartbeat under his fingers is strong and steady, he can still feel the evenness of his breaths, the firm pressure of his fingers around his wrist, the warmth of his skin through his shirt. Todd’s hand settled between his shoulders feels like the most solid thing in existence right now.
“You with me?” he sounds concerned, well, he sounds like he’s trying not to sound concerned and failing badly. Dirk feels a sudden wash of guilt for worrying him like that.
“Fine. I’m fine. Excellent assisting Todd, we’re all good here. You can go now.” His voice is shaky, fake cheeriness fraying at the edges of it like he might shatter altogether if he keeps talking. Dirk desperately doesn’t want him to go, fingers curling into his shirt in contrast to his words, but he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say. Usually he’s alone when this happens, he’s never had to deal with having someone else in the aftermath.
“Dirk. You just had a panic attack,” how he manages to sound both derisive and worried all at once is a mystery to him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his voice wobbles, and for a terrifying moment he thinks he’s going to start crying. “It was just some… mild alarm.”
“You stopped breathing!” It’s exasperation more than anything but it still manages to make Dirk tense up. Todd rubs his hand on his back again as he back tracks. “Sorry. I didn’t mean- it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to… pretend, or whatever. You have, well. Me, I guess. And Farah. People who care about you. It’s not- we’re not going to go anywhere if you’re not always fine.”
The thing is that Dirk knows this, but on some level he’s terrified of it happening all the same. “You don’t even know who that was,” he says in lieu of argument, voice small as he fidgets with the edges of his shirt where it’s come untucked.
Todd shrugs, “I know enough.” He moves to sit down beside him, keeping close.
Dirk huffs, rubbing a hand over his face, “you don’t know anything.”
“I know he’s an asshole. I know he upset you. I know I’d punch him in the face if I saw him again,” it’s enough to pull a weak smile to Dirk’s face.
“He’s military. CIA.”
“Good. I’d hit him twice as hard, I hate the government.” Dirk snorts, Todd smiles at the sound of his laughter.
“Aren’t you a little old for classic teenage rebellion?” he sounds more like himself, and Todd is willing to play along with that if it helps.
He shoots him a dirty side glance, only half joking with it. “You don’t outgrow punk. Telling the world to fuck off is a lifelong commitment.”
“Ah. I see.”
Todd rolls his eyes fondly. “No, you dont.”
“No, I don’t. But you’re not that great at it. Does it count as telling the world to ‘fuck off’ if you don’t mean it?”
It’s Todd’s turn to snort at that, “I mean it.”
“Do you though? You were being awfully nice just then,” and there it is, the vulnerable insecurity that creeps into Dirk’s voice sometimes that Todd wants to find the source of and beat the hell out of it. Maybe he might have a chance to if his suspicions are correct and it had just turned up at their door.
“Yeah, well. ‘Fuck off’ is only really meant for the bad parts,” he shrugs, letting some of his own insecurity out because he knows it’ll put Dirk at ease. “You’re not one of them.”
An interesting expression comprising mostly of shock, delight and disbelief crosses Dirk’s face, and Todd hates that he's always surprised when someone says something even vaguely nice to him. It makes him feel guilty for some reason, an ache deep in his stomach he can't place.
“Oh. Right. I suppose… well, you did throw a shoe at me,” he's looking at Todd like he's not sure how that will go down.
“You broke into my apartment, it was completely deserved.”
“I didn't break in,” he says, affronted, “the window was already open.”
Most of the tension is gone from his shoulders now, but Todd keeps his hand pressed there just in case, watching him with a soft expression and debating his next words.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks, cautious as he glances at the box he'd set down to the side of them. Dirk hunches his shoulders again, only a little this time though.
“Not really,” his eyes flit over to the box, briefly resting on the symbol on top before he looks back at Todd. There's something assessing in his eyes when he does, and a moment later he corrects, “not yet.”
Todd watches him right back, nodding after a moment. It’s enough, and it’s what Dirk needs right now. He’ll take it. “Alright. I’m gonna make some of that weird, shitty tea you like so much, go pick a movie.”
Dirk eyes him suspiciously like it might be a trap, Todd is quite strict on movie choices and few of Dirk’s favourites ever make the cut. Todd rolls his eyes at his expression though, pushing himself off of the floor and holding out a hand to tug Dirk up with him, and it seems he's in one of his rare moods where Dirk could probably push his luck quite far and only get minimal complaining. He takes his hand with a soft smile.
“Don't forget-”
“An entire bag of sugar?” he raises his eyebrows in a way that takes the sting out of the mocking. “I know.”
Dirk can’t help but smile at that, and Todd sends him a soft smile of his own in return. It feels, for a moment, like everything will be okay.
***
Dirk seems to settle after a while, curled up on the sofa cradling his tea and watching Legally Blonde completely enraptured like he hasn't seen it a million times before now. He has. Todd knows all too well that he has. Still, he can't bring himself to begrudge him the simple things right now, not when Dirk moves to curl into his side with a pleased little hum when Todd sits down next to him. Not when Todd spends most of the film watching Dirk watch the screen and trying not to think too much about what happened earlier.
There are a lot of things he wants to ask, a lot of things he wants to understand, there always have been when it comes to Dirk. He wears his heart on his sleeve, but anything else is locked down and shoved away under god knows how many layers of doors and walls and barriers, and if he's honest he's already accepted that there are plenty he might never get through. He wonders sometimes if Dirk thinks he's protecting him by not telling him, wonders if maybe he's right. He wouldn't know how to ask anyway, wouldn't know where to start, wouldn't know how to handle it with the care Dirk deserves for something like this. For anything really. Todd already knows there are things Dirk could tell him that will only leave him feeling filled with a violent defensive rage, and he knows that isn't what he needs. Their relationship is still new, still finding its footing, but Todd has found himself wanting so badly to be able to give Dirk what he needs. Perhaps part of the reason he hasn't asked is because he's so worried he'll fail him.
There's no need to ask now though, Dirk has all but cuddled his way into his lap at this point and he's had enough stress for one day. It's still lingering around the edges, the way he can't quite keep his fingers from fidgeting over every little thing, and it only becomes glaringly obvious when the movie credits start rolling and Todd suggests they go to bed.
He feels the way Dirk tenses all the way down his spine at the thought of it, smooths his hand across his shoulders without thinking.
“You need to sleep,” he says softly, firm with it like he's not going to stand any arguing, and Dirk glances up at him before his eyes flit away back over to the screen.
There's a long silence where Todd just waits for him to speak, knowing at least if he's taking this long to say whatever is on his mind it isn't going to be the usual bullshit he tries to pull when he wants to get out of things. He doesn't mind waiting for something that matters.
“What if…” Dirk speaks up, breaking the silence for a moment only to shake his head and pull away. “No. No, you're right. Sleep is important and we should… do that.”
Todd catches him by the wrist before he can pull away completely.
“What if what?”
Dirk shakes his head again but he doesn't try to pull away this time. “It's… stupid. Not worth thinking about really,” he tries a smile but it's the thin, tired kind that Todd hates seeing on him.
He hates it even more now.
“But you are thinking about it,” because telling Dirk it's not stupid before he even knows what it is is a surefire way to get an eye roll and have him close off entirely. “So just… it can't hurt to share it, right?”
Sometimes Dirk will find a way to circumnavigate any logic thrown at him, and Todd’s is admittedly weak, but it’s almost like he was looking for an excuse to tell him, because as soon as he decides he’s not going to argue it all comes out at once.
“What if he comes back?” he asks, voice a rushed whisper as he drops his gaze downwards, sure that Todd isn't going to think it's worth worrying about. “What if… he knows we're here now. Knows I'm here. What if he comes back with more people? What if he comes back with…” the name sticks in his throat but Todd knows who he means, squeezes his hand tighter. “What if he takes me again? What if he… what if he takes you? What if he hurts you? What if he… it might not be safe.”
Todd doesn’t really have any idea where to start with that.
“He said it had closed down, right? That they’d shut it all down and that’s why he came by? They can’t come here if they don’t exist.”
“But we don’t know that! He could have been lying! He always… well. No. Not… he never really lied I think that might have been… or did he? I don’t… It doesn’t matter. He could be lying now. He could be making it all up. We don’t know anything, and we can’t know anything until it’s too late.” He looks up at him, eyes wide and desperate and Todd isn’t sure how to reassure him but he has to try.
“Dirk,” he says softly, reaching out to take his hands where his fingers are twisting themselves into agitated knots. “I don’t think he’s going to come back,” he starts, cutting Dirk off when he opens his mouth to protest, “but if he does… isn’t he going to do it anyway?”
Dirk frowns a little, “well, yes, but-”
“So doesn’t that mean it doesn’t matter where we are?”
“I mean, I suppose so…”
“So if we need to sleep, and it might happen but it might not and there’s nothing we can do either way, shouldn’t we just go to bed?”
Dirk sighs, holding out for a minute before burying his face into his hands tiredly. “I’m scared,” he whispers, exhaustion peeking through the words, and Todd might not know how to fix everything, but he thinks he might be able to fix that.
“I know,” because even if he doesn’t really know what happened, who that man was, or why Dirk was so shaken by him, he knows none of the answers to those questions are good. “I know you are. But just- come to bed. You don’t have to sleep, just take it one step at a time, yeah?”
It feels like years pass before Dirk nods his agreement, letting Todd pull him up and herd him through to the bedroom. From there it’s easy enough to get them both stripped down and under the covers, both too tired to make it difficult. Instead Todd finds Dirk curling into him, a rare thing seeing as he usually sleeps flat out on his back with an unnerving degree of stillness, but Todd takes it in stride as he wraps an arm around him, letting him settle his head on his chest.
There’s quiet between them for a long time, but neither are sleeping. Dirk is away in his head somewhere and Todd is loathe to leave him to it, brushing fingers lazily through his hair while he waits for him to relax.
“Do you want to know?” he murmurs, breaking the silence of the room. Todd hadn’t been expecting him to speak at all, but he manages to get his words together fast enough to reply even through the hazy way sleep is starting to call to him.
“Only if you want me to,” because he does want to know, that’s unavoidable, but knowing when Dirk doesn’t want him to feels like it would be a violation and he’d rather never know anything than have that happen.
“You’d be okay with it, if I never told you?” he sounds uncertain, like he’s waiting for Todd to prove him wrong.
“I’d still worry about you,” he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop doing that. “And I can’t promise that I wouldn’t think about it. But… if you never wanted me to know then I’d be okay with that. As long as you didn’t think you’d have to shut me out when it hurts you.”
Todd can hear Dirk thinking and he’s happy to let him, this is something that he needs to find his patience for, he knows that much.
“I do want you to know,” he admits after a long moment. “It’s just… it would be hard to tell you. And you might not- well, no, you won’t like a lot of it. It’s not… I’ve never really told anyone before. There’s never really been any point, but…” he trails off, Todd can hear him swallow, feel the way he presses his hand down over his chest like he can keep him there. “I don’t want you to… you’ll see me differently, I think. You might…” pity him, maybe. Be scared of him. Be disgusted. Dirk knows his childhood wasn’t exactly normal and there’s really no telling how Todd would react. “That’s not what I want.”
Todd isn't good with words, and he doesn't want to make promises he can't keep, but the thought that it would change anything between them makes an ugly feeling fill his chest. He places his hand over Dirks where it's pressed against his skin, slotting their fingers together and squeezing softly. “It… it might change, a little,” he shakes his head because he's not sure he can make his thoughts make sense to Dirk. “It might change how I understand you, but it won't… It won’t change what I think of you.” He's already in far too deep for that. “I mean… after all the crazy shit we’ve seen you really think I’m going to give up now?”
“I…” Todd finds himself suddenly afraid of the answer Dirk is going to give him. “I know this isn’t exactly… normal. It can be a lot and I suppose… I’m already prepared for the idea that one day it will probably get to be too much for you. If you left… well. I wouldn’t want to put up with this, if I had the choice. I don’t think I could blame you for it.”
“Dirk…” he feels helpless, like someone has pulled a rug out from under him and he falters while he tries to work out what to say. “Look at me,” he says, feeling more than a little desperate in a way he’s unfamiliar with. They can’t see each other very well in the dark but Dirk shifts to look at him anyway, eyes wide and uncertain. “I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you. There’s nothing crazy enough to make me leave.”
“You say that but-”
“I’m saying that because it’s true. Maybe you don’t believe it, maybe it’s easier or whatever to just not believe it, but there is nothing that could ever convince me to leave you. Even if we end up fighting, fuck… I don’t know, an army of fire breathing unicorns from space, I’m gonna be there. So you’re just gonna have to… deal with it.”
There’s a long moment of silence before Dirk asks, “fire breathing unicorns from space?” in a way that Todd knows means he’s being mocked.
“Shut up, our lives are crazy. I’m keeping my options open,” he’s relieved though, glad that the worst of it seems to have passed.
“I sincerely hope we never meet anything like that, but if we do…” he looks a little nervous, Todd wishes he didn’t find it cute. “I’d be glad to have you with me.”
“Good. Because I’ll be there whether you like it or not,” he knows he’s said the right thing when Dirk makes a pleased little hum and cuddles in closer. It’s good for now.