Alison's POV

I get to our room and realize I don't have the keys, fabulous. I was hoping to be done interacting tonight. I've completely lost my apatite and all I want to do now is take a long, hot shower. I lean against the wall, tapping my foot impatiently. Finally, Dick makes his way towards me, holding a small towel over his nose. I laugh to myself admiring my work.

He just shakes his head and unlocks the door, "Rachel," He calls out as we step in.

Rachel is nowhere in sight, the chair to the desk is knocked over, and Dick's computer is opened. He picks up a piece of paper beside it. I hear Rachel's voice coming from the bathroom so I head that way, Dick in tow after he drops the pizza boxes on the bed. What the fuck is she saying? The door is opened and I hear her say "protect us from evil".

Dick reaches around me and flips the light on to reveal Rachel jerking her head up to us, face wet from tears. There's a gajillion little papers littered around the bathtub with crosses drawn on them... that's not creepy at all. I turn to Dick whose face is covered in worry and wonder. "Rachel, what happened?"

He crouches down to her level and she freaks out. "No! Don't touch me, I don't want her getting out. No!"

"Her? Her who?" I frantically look all around the room.

"Come here. You're okay," Dick pulls her in for a hug, ignoring the warning. "You're okay. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you. Don't worry." She looks up at me with her big doe eyes and reaches her hand out. Last time she took my hand something weird happened so no thanks.

She puts it down and sobs harder so I step closer and pat her head a couple times, "There, there. It's fine. We're back now." I'm not good at the whole comforting kids thing like Dick is. Dick looks up to me then points his eyes to the crosses. I just shrug.
I think we bit off more than we should have.

~~~~

After we finally get Rachel to sleep, Dick showered and passed out about a hour ago. I'm now standing in front of the sink, fresh out of the shower, rolling my fluoxetine bottle in my hands that I found in my bag. Alfred must've put in it for me, sly old man. A throat clears, breaking me from my thoughts, making me jump and drop the bottle, pills scattering everywhere. Great. I flip around to find a shirtless Dick standing in the doorway.

"Sorry," He whispers, "Thought you would've heard me." He bends down to pick up my pills before I respond. I don't need to deal with him and taking these at the same time.

We start silently putting them back in the bottle until he grabs one I was reaching for first. I slam my hand down on his, sighing in frustration. Swear he does this shit on purpose. I stand abruptly causing him to almost fall backwards.

I clear my throat, "So what, no questions?"

"It's none of my business," He shrugs, gathering the last pills before getting up and placing the one we both went for on the sink.

"Never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth," An amused laugh escapes my lips.

"I think I've learned my lesson after..." He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't think you'll ever learn," I mutter, but like always he hears it.

He rolls the bottle in his hand a few times before holding it out. I snatch it quickly to avoid any other incidents, nod thanks, and brush past him.

"Still have trouble taking them?" He asks, causing me to freeze.

"Thought you didn't have any questions?" I turn back around.

"You know it doesn't make you fucked up," He repeats the same thing he's said to me since I started taking medication at the lovely age of sixteen. "It doesn't mean you're fucked up, if anything it makes you stronger" he always said. I hated having to take pills for a problem I couldn't control. I hated that I had something wrong with me enough to be medicated. That I couldn't just ignore the outbursts, the rage, the screaming in my head and pretend it happened to everyone. But he was there for me, every time I took it. And when I would refuse to. He even had Alfred put it my food, making the process easier.

"You're right," I finally muster out, "I'm just fucked up in general." And with that I go back to my shitty bed, sprawling out on my stomach, glancing to make sure Rachel slept through all of that.

A couple minutes later Dick exits the bathroom and places a glass of water and the sink pill on the bedside table. I feel him come closer, confused on what the fuck he's doing until he whispers firmly, "You shouldn't blame yourself for what others made you out to be." Excuses.

"And you shouldn't put your self-hatred and regret onto others because it's easier than admitting your fucked up all on your own," I reply with. Silence. I smirk in victory as I feel his weight leave the bed and hear the couch creak.

Dick's POV

I stare up at the ceiling, frustrated my mind won't let me sleep replaying Alison's words. Just when I think we've reached a middle ground... she causes an earthquake. "Self-hatred and regret", whatever. I run my hands through my hair, pulling a little in frustration. I don't know if I'm more mad that she may be right or that it was her who said it.