Chapter Text
“How did walking in on your mother’s overdose affect you?” You look at Dr.Kelly, your mouth forming into a tight line. You then glance at your mom, whose head is turned down. It was another therapy session between you and your mom, and yet, you felt like nothing got better.
“It was scary. She promised to quit before, but she doesn’t always keep it.” You wince at the words, as if it was your fault. “I just—I thought she was really dead that time.” Dr.Kelly nods and writes something in her notes.
“Well, your mother wishes to quit, permanently, this time. Isn’t that right, Miss?” She stares at your mother.
Your mother looks up, and smiles at you, but you see the embarrassment in her face for being called out. “That’s right, baby. I want to get better, for you and for me.”
“And how do you feel about that?” You swallow your spit and squeeze your fingers.
“If that’s true, then, I’m glad, but I won’t keep my hopes up.”
You wonder if you overreacted. You didn’t mean too, it just happened. You hated how easily you were able to be startled, you should have done better, and yet–
“Hey, can I come in?” You lift your head up from the bed, the voice of Jason ringing in your ears. You sit up from the bed, debating on whether or not to respond. You know it would be childish if you were to ignore him, and in the end it would reflect badly on you. It was best if you faced the man, no matter how much you wished not to.
You walk up to the door, and you suddenly become acutely aware of the band aids. You feel one of them wrinkle, and you feel yourself cringe. You crack open the door, peeking through to see the tall man staring down at you. “Did you need something?” Your voice comes to a whisper.
He looks away sheepishly, hand scratching the back of his head. “Sorry about earlier, I wasn’t thinkin’ ,sweetheart.” There’s that name again, the one that makes your stomach revolt. Memories rush back to you, and all you can see is your Judas’ face, leering down at you. You know Jason isn’t him, but it’s enough to make you take a step back from him. He observes you, and you think you see a flash of hurt pass through his eyes. You can’t bring yourself to care.
“It’s fine, I was just overwhelmed. It’s been a long couple of days.”
He nods. “Understandable, I,uh, brought you a gift.” He pulls out a slab of metal, at least that’s what you think it is. He touches it, and the screen lights up.
“What is it?” You ask with semi-amazement; it almost reminds you of a Gameboy.
He looks a bit confused about your lack of awareness, and you suppose this only proves your point of being in another world if this is a well-known item. “It’s a cell phone, you’ll be able to contact the family, as a group or individually.” You hold it, and you see a plethora of messages already spammed. You’re reminded of a flip phone and you wonder if this is an upgrade of one.
“Is this a flip phone?”
“It’s similar to one, yeah. Have you never seen a cell phone before?”
“Of course I have,” you lie, “they’re just expensive, is all.” He definitely knows you just lied straight to his face.
“They are.” He looks away from you awkwardly, almost as if he doesn’t know what to do now. You suppose you don’t either, other than to say thank you.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“No problem, it wasn't like it was my money, anyways.” He snorts, waving a hand goodbye, before walking off. You stare at the phone, looking at Dick’s message first.
hey, come downstairs, waiting 4 u
this is dick btw
You press on the box that says ‘text,’ and a textbox appears, taking up the lower half of the screen. It reminds you of the flip phones from back home, except the keyboard was physical rather than on screen. You also take notice of the improper grammar, though you say nothing of it.
I’ll be there.
The message pops up as ‘read.’ You hold the phone, noticing you don’t have pockets, and walk outside your room. You walk down the stairs and you begin to wonder how often you’ll be gracing these steps. Dick’s back is facing you, and you see a woman in a wheelchair. That must be Barbara, you think. She’s beautiful, her hair is long and red, and her glasses bring out the shape of her face.
She gently smiles at you when she sees you, and stops speaking. You assume that’s the only reason Dick knew you were there. He turns around, grinning. “There you are! This is my girlfriend, Barbara.” He says her name lovingly.
“Hi, it’s lovely to meet you. As Dick said, I’m Barbara.” She glances at him with a teasing glare. You wonder what he did for her to glare.
“Hi.” You say, hesitantly, already feeling the need to hug yourself. Dick looks between the two of you and clasps his hands together.
“Alright, I say we should get going. The clothes aren’t gonna buy themselves.”
“Honestly Dick, you sound like my dad.” The red head says exasperatedly, but she’s obviously amused.
“Mr.Gordon’s a good man to sound like.” You feel as if you’re a third wheel, and for a moment you’re reminded of a friend of yours. Her name was Mary and she would always drag you everywhere with her boyfriend because she was too nervous to be alone around him. You told her you understood and that you wouldn’t want to be alone with a guy either. Her reasons were different from yours though.
When the three of you get to the car, you forget that Barbara can’t just enter the vehicle. Dick opens the door, picking her up and sliding her in the seat. You’re sure she could have done it herself, but you think it’s just him taking care of her. Dick’s a good boyfriend, you come to the conclusion, as you pick up her wheelchair and fold it. You fumble for a minute, but you quickly learn how to.
“Oh, you don’t have to.” Barbara’s eyes widen and Dick just stares at you.
“It’s fine. Can you open the trunk, please?” You ask Dick, and he beeps it open with his keys. His trunk is filled with random shit, and in the back of it, you see the same black and blue colors from the night you met Mr.Nightwing. While it confirms your suspicions, you don’t think you were supposed to see the suit. You look away from it, and situate the folded wheelchair into the trunk. He must have forgotten about it, which you think is somewhat funny. How are you going to have a secret identity, and forget about what makes it secret in your trunk?
You close it and get into the backseat. “Thank you.” Barbara turns her head around, giving you a small smile. Dick got really lucky to have a woman like her, but you think she must have gotten lucky too. He seems to be a good guy, even if you thought he was weird at first.
“Uhm, no problem. I like the wheelchair by the way, it’s pretty.” It is. It’s purple, with people’s names written all over, one you saw was Tim’s.
“It is very pretty. Dick got it done for me some years ago.”
“I thought it was a good idea to put the names on there, so we could always be with you, even if it’s just in spirit.” He holds her hand, kissing them softly. It reminds you of Judas, and you frown, looking at your window, instead of the couple. He’s not here, you have to remind yourself. You killed him. Judas is gone. The preacher is gone, his stupid son is gone, and Judas is especially gone. You are safe. They can’t hurt you, not anymore.
“You okay?” Dick’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. He’s concerned, you think, and so is Barbara, who’s looking at you in the rear-view mirror with the same expression as Dick.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just car sickness.” You give a thumbs up and he quirks his eyebrow in amusement.
“Why do you do that?” You blink.
“Do what?”
“He’s asking why you do the thumbs up. Just ignore him if he bothers you too much.” Barbara cheekily grins at him, and he rolls his eyes.
“It’s a good way to communicate.” You answer, shuffling in the seat.
“Yeah? We have a sister who uses ASL, I’m sure she would teach you.” You feel a bit giddy at the thought of learning a new language. You never had the time. You also feel a bit happy about having a sister to bond with. It was only ever just you.
“I would like that.”
Barbara responds instead, “I’m sure she would too.”
You’ve come to the conclusion that you like Barbara, and maybe Dick. You thought he was weird at first, but he’s cool, and so is Babs. You smile, the nickname Babs is nice, and you think you're excited to use it in the future.