Closet Space

August 31, 2015:

Grayson visits Harper in the hospital.

Some Clinic


NPCs: Cullen Row



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The clinic is clean, sterile and surprisingly private - Harper's been given a quiet room of her own. It doesn't have a ton of space and it's next to the air conditioning system, so it isn't as quiet as you'd like, but at least no one bothers her here, the clinic's usual range of injured homeless, junkies and the like separated off.

Dick shows up to check on her the next afternoon, clad in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, knocking on the door of the room. A pair of sunglasses hide his eyes as he pokes his head in, "Hey, how're you doing?" he says.

Harper didn't have a chance to fight, a chance to fuss at her caretakers. As soon as she was hoisted into Dick's arms, she was out like a light. The morning was fueled with a lovely morphine high as the nurse checked her wound. It was almost through and through, the bullet itself pinging against a few minor organs that needed a quick stitching and thorough check, remaining within her lung as to the reason as why she was coughing blood. Surely, it collapsed, but she was right as rain once the doctors patched her up. It wasn't new, but that isn't what mattered.

Cullen remained by her bedside asleep in the large, overstuffed chair, Harper herself reading a book, oxygen mask laced within her nose as she gives a tired look towards..

..hellooooo nurse!

She totally thought she dreamt that. Some handsome poor and impressionable guy whisking her off to freedom, a school girls crush once she remembered those features.. but.. there was a slight embarrassment to her state of dress that has her automatically resorting to her Narrows humor.

"I'm dead." She states, deadpan. She even slowly lays her head back to close her eyes, her tongue hanging out the side of her lips. "Call the doc, I'm dead. Maybe dying.." Her voice was a little hoarse. But she tries her best not to laugh.

Dick Grayson makes his way up to the bed and shakes his head, "Man, I hope not, otherwise either I'm hallucinating or this really is hell like they say in the tabloids every week," he says. He pulls off his sunglasses, tucking them away in a pocket as he walks on over.

"How're you doin'? I talked a little to the doctor, she said you're going to be okay, although you're not going to be running a marathon anytime soon," he says. He nods to the boy there, trying to find a balance between what he knows and what he should seem to know. "Dr. Tompkins is good people. And free, which is always a bonus," he says.

The book was soon pushed aside as she finally sits up in the bed, a wide smile drawn across chapped lips as she closes her eyes, her hands pressing against the bed to push herself upright with a slight grunt. Thankfully, Cullen is asleep, else he'd fawn and fuss over Grayson and ask him out to dinner, bold as her brother was.

"Shh..shh.." She murmurs, lifting a hand to press against her lip. "I've seen better days.. but this by far is the worst." She smiles a little, letting out a cool breath of air at the mention of it all being free. "Thank god.. I really.. really have been wracking up the medical bills as of late." She gestures towards the chair, wanting him to sit. "I'm Harper, by the way. Harper Row. This is my brother, Cullen."

Dick Grayson should probably use some sort of alias, but doesn't bother. It's not as if he isn't relatively easy to Google anyway and he's learned that lying about that sort of thing is easier away from Gotham than it is around here. Thankfully, since he grew up and moved out, people don't pay quite as much attention to Bruce Wayne's ward as they did when he was a teenager living in a big mansion.

"Dick Grayson," he says. "Nice to meet you officially," he says. He'll look into those medical bills discreetly - he's surprised Bruce left something like that unresolved. The old man's got too much on his plate to deal with the little things, maybe. "Nightclubbing in Gotham - it's never boring, at least. This'll give you a good story to tell, at any rate."

Harper wasn't a hand shaking type of person. She was a 'say your name and get it out there' type of girl. She'd probably even give a fist dap, something, but hand shaking? Nope. So it wasn't offered.

"Ooooh. You're the Wayne kid." Yeah, she's googled.. rather, Cullen has googled. Obsessively. The local hot men were a thing for a while and he usually annoyed her with showing of the pictures. "No wonder you looked familiar." And better in person, but.. down hormones, down.

"It isn't usually like that there." She states plainly. "But, you live in the Narrows you die there. Surprisingly, I'm still kicking so I'd probably wind up dying elsewhere." She gives him a slight wink, losing the need to carry on a conversation, then.. the realization hits her. "Wait. If you're thinking about paying those bills, you don't have to. I have a job. Though, I do have to call tonight to let them know I'd be indesposed for a while.. maybe send in a doctors note.." She thinks about this.. for a half second.

"But don't you go thinking I'm a charity case cause you got to play hero. I can pay my own bills just fine."

Dick Grayson makes a little wince, "The Wayne kid…yeah, I guess so, although I wouldn't usually put it that way. Bruce is honestly more like my brother than my Dad. He was there for me at a tough time in my life, though," he says.

"As for paying your bills, I might do it anyway, just to spite you now. I don't do very well at being told what to do, not by anybody," he says with a wry smile. "One of the benefits of having any money is that you don't have to play by other people's rules all the time. If you -like- crushing medical debt, though, please, by all means, keep it," he says. "I'm sure they'll understand. Being shot is one of those excuses that tends to play well."

"Must be grand." She doesn't say it with scorn, but she does say it as someone who really wanted that life. Not for herself, but for her brother. She draws her gaze towards his sleeping form for a moment, her resolve renewed. Being shot wasn't going to stop her from making the streets easier for him to walk on.. and for people like Dick to pay her bills..

"Whatever.. Dick." She emphasizes that, chuckling ever so softly as she throws the blankets off of the bed, creating a mild racket that knocks the book upon the floor. She looks towards Cullen.. who still remains sleeping, thankful that he's not awake to fawn or embarrass himself. "I think my bills are fine.." She didn't need him to go looking. It wasn't as if Bluebird was known but.. he didn't need to know that. "We have insurance, the whole nine. I just need to make it for another year and then I'll have enough to send Cullen far, far away from this place." As if New York is even better..

"And you know, I don't like being told what to do either, and I don't like people telling me what they're going to do to my.." She pauses, then breaks out into a laughter, one that makes her heart rise, wounds and muscles hurt.

Dick Grayson smiles and shakes his head, "I get along well with stubborn people. Sometimes, I think, the only people I know are hard-headed and demanding types. Just like me. Probably like you," he says. It does take a special sort of person to decide that they're going to take it upon themselves to slap on a mask and fight crime without any superpowers to back them up.

"So, how about I leave your debts alone and you not assume I'm an asshole just because I happened to get adopted by someone with money? Deal?"

It was a struggle, but she manages to push herself up off of the bed to stand, her hand reaching out to snag hold of the bed railings, whilst her other fights to keep her gown closed. At least she still was decent underneath. "Probably.." She admits, taking that moment to breathe as she reaches out to wheel her IV stand around to use as a cane.

"You got yourself a deal, buddy." She states, and this time, she holds out her hand.. her pinky finger extended as she puts on a smile that.. if properly made up and preened well, would melt a million hearts. Now? She looks like a dog walked on her, sat down, farted, dragged her through the mud and left her to the cats.

Dick Grayson can see through that sort of thing pretty well - he's been through hell plenty of times and he can see that Harper's damn pretty, regardless of how much it sucks getting shot. He takes the pinky-swear, even if he finds it a little odd, raising an eyebrow and grinning. "Oh, good, I'll have a lawyer type things up," he says teasingly.

"You sure you should be on your feet so fast? You did get shot after all, there's no rush," he says. He figures she's probably chomping at the bit to investigate and, truth be told, so is she. He's going to be in costume pretty shortly and start going through the police reports…

"You would." She laughs a little slightly, then gives a shake of her head. "It doesn't matter.." She was going to get up when she was good and damn ready. And right now? She was ready. But for a different reason. "So what do you do with your life when you're not with your.. brother. Got a job like us normal people?" The blanket was slowly dragged from the bed, her paces slow and pained, though she does fight through it all to round her way towards the sleeping Cullen.

"Me? I work on the city's electrical grid, you know.. keeping all of the power on the up and up.." She smirks just a touch, then drapes the blanket over Cullen, who snuggles in to a deeper sleep. "He's been up all night. Missed school just to be here. I hate that.. I do this to him.."

Dick Grayson leans back, 'Oh, this and that. I was a cop for a while, but I'm on leave at the moment, trying to figure out if that's…what's right for me,' He says. He liked being a cop, but he hated having yet another group of people to lie to - his fellow cops. It felt dishonest and he wasn't ready to stop being Nightwing so, for the moment, he was putting aside the badge. For good? He wasn't sure yet.

"I'm just looking for a way to…make a difference, I guess. Nothing so direct as you, though - giving everybody power, that's a straight, practical good use of your time," he says. As for her brother, he nods and says, more quietly, 'Can't always help that sort of thing. He'll be okay. I'm sure he feels better being here, knowing you're okay, than being stuck at school and wondering. He wouldn't have been paying attention anyway."

"A cop?" Harper murmurs, fixing the blanket along his shoulders as she soon straightens herself up. Moving into the bathroom at her pace to retrieve the robe inside. She didn't mind the loudness of the room, they've honestly slept through worse. Once she returns, her jovial expression was soon replaced with something that was a little bit more serious. "Being a cop makes a difference.."

A lot.

"Being a cop would also get you access." She gestures for him to follow her, she wasn't going to tell any secrets, but..

She does sigh at the mention of Cullen, watching him as she leans against the door, her hand lifting slowly only to wince.. lightly dragging her hair away from her face. "Yeah.." And she drops it.

"So.. I have to ask. What happened with the gunmen? I didn't see anything, I missed it all.. obviously.."

Dick Grayson doesn't respond to the bit about access, true as it is. He's amused at the idea of her trying to use him as an informant, though - it's exactly the kind of resource building she should be doing, even if she doesn't know he's got access to far more than she could imagine.

To the last, though, he says, "The people involved don't seem to remember what happened. All random people, from different backgrounds. Nobody's been able to find anything in common with them yet. Papers are speculating a lot, but nothing seems to make sense yet. The guy who shot you was a taxi driver. Last thing he remembers, he says, he was picking up a fare on the docks. Whatever happened to them…without any proof, they're probably going to prison, although it's hard to say for how long," he says, shaking his head. "Maybe mind control of some sort?"

Making fun of a girl, that could have some serious damaging self esteem issues. Not that hers wasn't damaged already to begin with. She shuffles along however, keeping a slight pace, wanting to move towards the window in a quieter area of the clinic. She even gets a slightly shocked stare from the nurse.. who.. realizes that.. its just one of those vigilante type deals.

"That's strange." Harper comments, then looks up towards him. "Mind control? That's the stuff that only happens in the movies and some sort of .. area fifty-one type deals. And really, who can do something like that and get four, seemingly random people in -one- place just to shoot up a bunch of people for kicks?" She shakes her head. "Those guys have names?"

Dick Grayson has been around the Titans and outside of Gotham enough to know that mind control happens all too often and you never entirely know who was capable of that sort of thing. "You'd be surprised. The world's…full of strange stuff," he says.

"I'm sure they do, although the press isn't releasing anything yet - the police want to keep their identities under wraps while they investigate. Don't want to put their families and stuff in danger, I guess. Random shootings tend to inspire a lot of…emotion,' he says. He actually knows the names already, that was easy enough to find out, but it didn't help much. They really do seem totally random - for now.

"I suppose so." She hitches herself upon the window sill, the gears turning within her mind. There were the likes of Joker, whom she's never met and very thankful for that fact.. and Two-Face. Catwoman.. she's still sporting the scars from that little tango.

"I can understand that. I just want to know. At the end of the day, they were victims too. And they deserve their very own justice just like the rest of us and those that died." Well, that settles it.

"You want to do me a favor, Grayson?" She asks.

Dick Grayson gives her a side-eyed look, raising an eyebrow, "I kind of get the feeling you're going to talk me into it even if I say no, so I'll just say yes and save myself the trouble," he says. He understands the remarks about justice, all too well, but, again, doesn't rise to the bait. There are things he's been trained all too well not to talk about. He may not fake the playboy naif persona the way Bruce does - he's just not as comfortable looking like a fool in his everyday life - but neither does he need to let anyone see Dick Grayson act too heroically. He already kind of pushed that boundary by getting her out of there in the first place.

"Hey, you're the one who said that you don't like being told what to do. You could just as easily say no. Unless you think this pretty face has a little bit of sway over the billionaires little foster brother.." She winks just a touch, then carefully draws herself away from the window. "Find the doctor? I need to be discharged, I really can't stay here another day. I'll rouse my brother but.. we just have to get out of here."

Dick Grayson grins, "Your pretty face probably could get a lot more done than you give it credit for," he says. He nods to the request, though, "I can handle the doctor, she's an old friend. She's kind of used to people taking off yesterday - the clinic's meant for people who don't live regular nine to five lives. Gotham's liket hat sometimes,' he says. And her generous donations from the Wayne Foundation covered any costs that might result from people jumping out the door unsupervised.

"Go, take care of your brother. Maybe I'll see you around sometime when you're not shot, huh?" he says.

Was that a blush? Harper immediately turns her head, then steeled her jaw as she takes in a breath. "Good. Good." She doesn't say anything else, carefully hobbling her way to her room, thankfully, the door wasn't too far away. She stops briefly, then turns with a slight grin, shaking her head.

"I don't know, Grayson, but to me that sounds like you're asking me out on a date. No no.. no no.. don't rush and pick out a decent Friday or a nice cool restaurant we could go to.. no rush indeed.."

Dick Grayson considers for a moment and then says, 'Y'know…I just might be, now that you mention it. Funny, that. If a nice, black car shows up at your house to take you somewhere fancy, well, it's probably me, but you might wanna check ID just to be safe. Can't be too careful in Gotham…" he says with a wink.

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