Work Text:
Dirk stood, trembling on the front steps of the Ridgely, unable to calm himself down, for what felt like a long moment before he could walk away.
Once inside the safety of his car, he shook so violently that he couldn’t stop the tears, already formed, from falling, and he brushed angrily at them even as new ones continued to form.
He was a detective.
And Farah and Amanda were his friends.
And Todd.
Todd was his assistant and his friend.
Todd wanted to help him.
He didn’t need Blackwing or the CIA to bail him out.
He wasn’t a scared and lonely kid clinging desperately to any act of kindness anymore.
He wasn’t their experiment.
He was Dirk.
Just Dirk.
And he didn’t need Riggins telling him what was in his best interest, with all his warped niceness.
Riggins, who used to stand there, behind the mirror, watching him fail again and again and again.
Until everything hurt too much.
Until he was crying, begging to stop.
Until they brought him back to his room and Riggins would be sitting there with a box of crayons and a smile that seemed so genuine and promises that never meant anything.
irisbleufic Sun 16 Sep 2018 04:04PM UTC
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elegantidler Sun 16 Sep 2018 06:34PM UTC
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flightinflame Sun 16 Sep 2018 04:11PM UTC
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elegantidler Sun 16 Sep 2018 06:35PM UTC
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flightinflame Sun 16 Sep 2018 08:36PM UTC
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