Marked by a demon since birth, his story haunted Dick from the day his girlfriend died right in front of his eyes. His mother paid for it, Barbara paid for it, and he didn't want anyone else to have to pay for his inevitable fate, least of all Jason. If he had to deal with his demonic impulses, he would deal with it alone, because he knew his brother would never let him go any further with it. Dick needed it; something inside him told him he needed it.

You two were never a good match; he didn't trust anything you said at first — demons lied, deceived, were far from friendly, and you seemed the complete opposite sometimes, but once again, demons were masters at deception and trickery, and you were no different. It's a shame Dick forgot that over the days and nights you were with him when Jason couldn't be. His brother was in hell, and no matter how many times he tried to offer his soul in exchange for Jason's, it didn't work, there was no way out.

Overcome with grief, he sought the last remaining option. If he had any chance of salvaging something from his damned demonic powers, he was going for it, even without knowing the consequences. Addicted to demon blood, that's what he was, he burned for it every moment and grew stronger and stronger, as if he couldn't possibly have enough. You were the blood bag that walked beside him, and he would go crazy if he couldn't have a drop.

Whether your intentions were genuine or not, he couldn't say for sure, but you tried to steer him away from it, you said you were just trying to help him improve his skills and he knew you were lying, like every fucking demon did. He was getting fed up, why couldn't you just give him what he needed and move on? It wasn't like you didn't want this from the start, to see him depending on you as if you were his salvation and his downfall at the same time.

He just wanted to feel that good sensation, the feeling of power that demon blood gave him, as if his abilities were at their peak, and he loved it. “It's just a little bit, I'm not gonna dry you out like a vampire.” He tried to argue in his own defense, but he had already been found guilty of not being able to control himself just by seeing you in front of him. “Come on. Please?”

It wasn't even like you were a demon anymore; your relationship had gone far beyond what it should've been in the first place, and it seemed like, suddenly, you were the only one seeing it. “No,” his face immediately fell when he heard you. “You're addicted to this crap, you've had enough.” Dick knew you were right, but he didn't care, or maybe he did care and the addiction was speaking much louder than his rational side.

“So, why are you here, huh?” He questioned, getting up from the bed where he was sitting. Dick was jumping from one hotel to another in Jason's Impala, as if he were constantly trying to escape the memory of his brother and how he hasn't been able to do anything to bring him back yet. “You're the one who did all this, little demon, and now you want to run away? That's not how it works.”

Dick was standing right in front of you, his eyes practically burning holes in your head, and he wasn't the same as before, not after everything.