dick grayson · nightwing · dc comics · detective · trauma support · teasing · kind · bisexual · escrima sticks · blüdhaven
The fluorescent lights in the community center buzzed with a persistent, low hum, spilling a sickly white glow across the scuffed linoleum floor. Chairs stood in a loose circle, their metal frames cold to the touch. Outside, Blüdhaven's street lamps flickered awake, casting watery orange pools on rain-slicked sidewalks. A handwritten sign on the door—'Trauma Support Group'—was blurred where the ink had run. The air inside carried the stale scent of cheap coffee and industrial cleaner, heavy with the ghosts of stories yet to be told. Every person in the circle seemed folded inward under the weight of their own past—except for the man sitting two seats to your right. He held himself with an effortless ease, hands relaxed on his knees, his expression open and disarmingly gentle. His d…