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one.
She’s being stupid about it.
But there is a difference between being aware of your own behaviour and acting on it, and Rachel isn’t quite there yet. Not when Dick drove away to deal with some bullshit an hour ago, leaving them all behind in that shithole of a motel. Now the Four Horsemen of the Creepocalypse are dead, the motel owner nowhere to be found, and the TV doesn’t even have HBO. And Dick is gone.
It’s not the first time and, clearly, it won’t be the last. Rachel just has to get used to it now. Still, dread creeps up her stomach at the mere idea of Dick being so far from her because. Well. That’s the thing, right. She doesn’t entirely knows why exactly she’s clinging to him like that now.
Kory can protect them if anything happens, and Rachel can defend herself alright, she thinks. She doesn’t exactly needs Dick to be there for her. She just wants him to. Which is a dangerous road to follow. Her mom was there for her and look what happened. She almost died about half a dozen times already in like, one week. It can’t possibly end well.
But Dick wasn’t lying, the first time, when he told her he wouldn’t leave her. And now she can’t shake the feeling off because. He was telling the truth, no matter all the bullshit that came after. That has to count for something.
Except now she’s sulking, sitting on her own by the empty swimming pool. Her legs dangling where the water should be, she stares at the emptiness in front of her. And wait. And wait. Because Dick said he would be coming back, and now Rachel is holding her breath until that happens.
Gar comes to sit next to her at some point, a game console in his hand. It’s so old it needs disposable batteries to switch on, and she has to squint at the screen to see the game. A whole fucking disaster that keeps them entertained as he shows her how to jump from platform to platform and lead her character to victory.
It’s only when Kory walks toward them, long after she said she’d take care of the bodies on her own, that the both of them stop playing. She stops a few feet from them and smiles, holding her phone up for everyone to see.
“Just got a call,” she says, and Rachel’s breath catches in her throat. Anticipation or terror, she couldn’t say. Most likely both. “Let’s get going, we’ve got quite the ride in front of us.”
Gar jumps to his feet immediately, then offers Rachel a hand. She grabs it and lets him pull her up, because his smile is eager and she doesn’t feel like brushing him off. Not when he’s the first person her age to befriend her in – forever, basically.
“Is he okay?” she asks Kory. Is there a reason he’s not coming back, is what she doesn’t ask.
Based on the look Kory offers her, she does a very bad job of hiding her feelings on the matter. Maybe she should work on her poker face a little bit more.
“He’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll explain once we’re in the car.”
And yeah, maybe Dick didn’t come back for her. But she’s going back to him. That has to count for something too.
…
two.
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get it, grab the hostages, get out. Twenty minutes, top. Twenty-five at most if Gar did something stupid without meaning to, not that it happens as much as it used to.
The mission was easy on paper.
They just didn’t expect one of the guard to have powers, too. Now the entire warehouse smells like gunpowder and blood, Dick’s eyes watering under his mask as he jumps from one spot to another and tries to take down as many guards as possible. Kory is taking care of the non-human one, magnificent as she shines golden and throws fireballs at her enemies. He allows himself one shallow second of distraction before he moves on.
He and Gar are in the middle of rescuing the hostages, opening the doors to their cells and making sure they make it out of there alive, hurrying and running and dizzy when –
A scream.
Rachel’s scream.
Dick doesn’t think. He yells an order for Gar to keep going, and rushes toward the sound. His heart is already beating faster against his ribcage, him who’s so good at staying collected during a mission, him who barely ever breaks a sweat.
But Rachel is in danger so.
Fuck the mission, to be honest.
She screams once more, something that sounds both like his name and like she’s hurt, and Dick runs faster. He punches a guy out of his way and kicks a door open, only to–
“Holy fuck, Rachel!”
He’s dropping to his knees at her side the next moment. There is no ignoring the wound on her stomach, fabric ripped and skin opened, blood every-fucking-where. She’s breathing with difficulty, loud broken pants that have him blanching even as he rips the side of her long cardigan and uses it to put pressure on the wound.
“Dick–“ she gasps, and coughs. Some blood dribbles down the side of her mouth. Fucking fuck. This can’t be good. “It hurts–“
“Shhh,” he soothes her. “Don’t talk, keep your strength.”
“I don’t wanna – Dawn…”
He closes his eyes against the assault of memories and the wave of panic and the fucking feeling that he’s going to throw up. He needs to keep it together. He can’t fuck this one up, not with her.
“You’re going to be fine, okay. I promise. Now stop talking and try to breathe nice and deep. Like that.”
He takes a large intake of breath, before he lets it out slowly, and Rachel imitates him right after. He’s not exactly certain how effective it is to her but. At least it keeps him grounded, allows him to clear his mind and think.
The nearest hospital is a few miles away. Calling 911 is out of the question. They can’t show up here, with four vigilantes, a dozen hostages and as many bodies. So that one is dead in the water.
He could drive. Would take ten minutes, top. Seven if he finds a good car.
(Five if he still had the Porsche.)
Yeah he needs a car. He also needs help and – fuck, what are Gar and Kory even doing?
As if he just mentally summoned her, Kory appears next to them. She drops to her knees in Rachel’s side, hands hovering awkwardly before she decides to brush Rachel’s hair out of her face and wipes the blood off her mouth.
“I need you to replace me here. I’ll find a car.”
“Okay,” she replies.
That’s what he loves best about Kory. She’s good under pressure. No panic, no questions asked, just acting on her instincts and his orders. She’s so level-headed, which is all the better when he feels like a rightful fucking mess.
Her hands are warm when they land on top of his, and Dick makes sure she’s pushing down hard enough before he moves his hands away. She’s got this. She’s fine.
Rachel will be fine.
“I’m coming back, okay?” he tells her in a whisper. She’s so pale, and he can feel himself starting to freak out again. But he need to tell her that. He needs her to know, every time, that he’s coming back for her. To make it clear. To promise.
“No don’t – please – Dick.”
He leans down to kiss her forehead, burning despite how white she is. “I promise.”
He doesn’t give her time to protest again before he’s on his feet and running, catching Gar as he goes. They thankfully find a few cars parked next to the warehouse, and he goes to the fastest-looking one.
He loses time picking the lock, because he’s out of habit. Also because his hands are slick with blood and his fingers are shaking so much but. Better not think about that now.
He almost sighs of relief when the engine roars to life. Not now though. Not until she’s safe.
(He wonders, on the way to the hospital, with Rachel lying against Gar and Kory still putting pressure on the wound. He wonders if Bruce ever felt like that for one of them.)
…
three.
The day he tells her, Rachel gets so upset and scared and angry that she lashes out at him. It’s her first time ever using her powers against one of them, and Dick flies across the room, crashes against a wall.
She snaps out of it immediately.
It takes Kory two hours to comfort her and calm her down, to tell her that Dick doesn’t hate her or isn’t mad at her or will resent her for it, that he kind of brought it onto himself and that Rachel has nothing to be worried about. Accidents happen, especially with powers you can’t always control.
Stil. Rachel needs three more hours on her own, sitting on her bed with her legs drawn to her chest and her head between her knees, before she can breathe properly again. The image of Dick crashing against the wall, the sound of his cry of pain, keep playing on a loop in her mind.
She did that.
She hurt him.
She’s a monster.
It’s only when Rachel is certain that everyone else is asleep that she comes out of her bedroom. Her stomach has been protesting for a while now, and it does a little jumping thing at the plate of food that was left for her on the kitchen counter, along with a drawing of Pikachu on a post-it.
She’s about to gulp down the chicken and potatoes when light footsteps have her freeze. Dick is standing in the doorframe, barefoot and in his PJs, looking like a sad but tired puppy.
He stares. Rachel stares back. He opens his arms. She runs toward him. Because the thing is, Dick Grayson gives the best fucking hugs in the world. Always has. There is something so comforting about how much taller he is, his arms solid around her back, the way he squats a little to press his cheek against the top of her head.
She never feels safer than in his embrace.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want–“
“I know, don’t worry. I should have been more diplomatic about it.”
She snorts against the soft fabric of his tank top, and smiles. Dick is a great many things – a good leader, an amazing fighter, a somewhat decent singer – but diplomatic he is not. None of them are.
“Are you okay?”
She leans away from him, just to look at him in the eyes when she nods her answer. There’s a bruise blooming on his shoulder that his tank top can’t hide, and Rachel’s heart plops in her stomach at the sight but. He’s okay. It’s just a bruise.
It could have been so much worse.
“I’m fine,” she agrees.
“Can we all stop pretending to do our own thing now?” comes Gar’s voice from the living room.
Rachel lets out a laugh, and he’s immediately there, hugging her too. Kory walks in only a few seconds later, patting Rachel’s hair with a smile. It feels like the kind of scene from a cereals commercial, the perfect family they definitely aren’t. Rachel will take it.
“I still think that–“ Dick starts, only for Kory to slap his chest.
“Really? Now!?”
“I’m just saying, school is important! I graduated. You did whatever is the equivalent on your planet. Even Gar was homeschooled by Chief! It’s important and–“
“I’m a superhero, I don’t need school.”
“Don’t you now?” Dick replies, folding his arms and raising one eyebrow. “Even Superman went to uni and–“
An echo of gasps interrupts him.
Even after all this time, it never gets old, when he accidentally drops some secret info about the Justice League. Just like when they found out who Batman is, or that he has Arthur Curry on speed-dial, or a group chat with all the Robins. It’s wild.
“Are you saying that–“ Gar starts, overeager.
“I’m not giving you Superman’s identity.”
“Come on, Dick! Just a clue!”
“No.”
“Initials. Two letters!”
“In your dreams.”
Kory’s arm wraps around her shoulders, her curls tickling against Rachel’s cheek. She looks up to the older woman, finally smiling again. Kory shares her grin when she says, “You’ll be fine. And if you aren’t, I’ll get you out of there.”
Which helps at first. It doesn’t help on the day Dick drives her to school for the first time. He chose a posh one, just shy of forcing her to wear a uniform, because that’s Dick for you. The bottomless Wayne account and the high standards still run in his blood to this day.
He parks in front of the school and turns off the ignition. If he tries a pep talk or an inspirational speech, she might punch him in the throat.
“Just try, okay,” is what he says instead. “You don’t have to love it, but it doesn’t mean you will hate it either.”
Rachel doesn’t answer, her eyes fixed on the car in front of them. If she opens her mouth, she might throw up all over his Porsche.
“One day. And if you don’t like it we’ll homeschool you instead. But you need to promise you’ll try.”
She nods. It’s going to be a disaster – nobody will want to talk to the new girl who looks like a freak, and she so behind she’ll make a fool of herself during lessons and Gar was the one to pack her lunch, not even Kory. But she can try, for Dick. It’s the least she can do.
“You picking me up this afternoon?”
“Yeah, I’ll be waiting around the corner.”
She nods again. And then she sighs, and takes a deep breath, grabs her bag. It’s only once she’s out of the car – and people are staring, fuck, because of course they are, the freak newbie dropped off in a fucking Porsche – that she turns back to him, one hand on the door.
“Promise you’ll be there.”
Dick’s smile is soft. Understanding. Any other day it would unnerve her, how gentle he can be around her. Like a whole new layer of Dick, just for her. Any other day but today, because it’s exactly what she needs. Soft and supportive and just fucking nice, for once in his life.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he confirms. And then, because he knows her so well and knows exactly what she needs to hear, “I promise, Rach.”
It doesn’t stop her heart from dropping in her stomach when he drives again but. One day. She can do that for him, just one day.
…
four.
It’s late at night, the apartment so eerily silent it reminds him of the Wayne mansion. He couldn’t sleep for the two first weeks after he moved in with Bruce, because it was too quiet and he didn’t know how to react to it – the missing sound of the truck’s engine as they would travel from one city to the next, the shuffling and rusting of fabric, the soft background sounds of animals steering in their sleep. It unnerved him, the nothingness of the night, barely more than the wind and hoots of an owl.
It still does now, the humming sound of the fridge deafening when nothing else comes to disrupt it. Dick can’t sleep, not even with Kory’s warm body flush against his. One of those nights that reminds him he should be outside, watching over innocent people and making sure his city is safe. But he’s not in Gotham anymore.
He’s not in this business anymore.
So he sits on the couch, only one lamp switched on, and reads in silent. Maybe sleep will come to him at some point, if he’s lucky enough. But for now, it is something else altogether that comes to him, the soft ruffling of feet against the cold flood before Rachel appears in front of him. She’s wearing the Hello Kitty PJs Gar got her for her birthday, the only time they ever see her wearing colours that aren’t different shades of black, and Dick always smiles at the sight. She’s still just a kid.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks her softly, closing his book and sitting a little straighter. His posture is terrible these days, Alfred’s voice in his head chidding him for it. Rachel shakes her head before she comes to sit next to him, feet under her legs on the couch. “I’ll make you some hot milk.”
She laughs, low and amused. “You’re such a mom.”
He’s in the middle of standing up when he freezes, offering her an offended face. “I thought Kory was your mom!”
Rachel is laughing even more now, little giggles that go straight to Dick’s heart. She doesn’t laugh nearly enough, so he always feels like he won the damn lottery when she sounds so happy and carefree, so like the child she’s still supposed to be. The vigilante business makes you grow old too fast, Dick knows it all too well.
“It’s 2018, Dick. I can have two moms.”
“Touché,” he grins. “Be right back.”
It’s only once she’s sipping on her hot milk – and hell, Dick made one for himself too because desperate times call for desperate measures – that she makes it known she’s not just here because she couldn’t sleep. She sits a little straighter, readying herself for battle the way she does every time there is something important she wants to talk about. Last time it happened, she told him she’s started her period, and Dick has never ran to Kory faster in his life than on that day.
“I want to ask you something,” is how she starts, and Dick gives her a nod for her to continue. “I want to learn how to fight.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You know how to fight, Rach.”
“No, I mean. I know how to use my powers, but I can’t fight like you or Kory. I want to learn it, just in case.”
It makes sense, of course. Rachel’s powers are not as unpredictable as Kory’s are, and they’re yet to fail her. But it could happen, and they need to be ready to the eventuality. It would be the worst, for something to happen to her just because they got too confident in her powers.
Dick pouts a little as he looks away from her, cogwheels already turning in his mind. It’s barely a plan, at this point, and – he’d need to call Alfred, at the very least. Perhaps even Clark, but. It could be doable. Maybe.
“I know exactly the right person for that.”
Which is how, a month later, they are flying to Paris. He’s yet to tell Rachel anything about it, other than he found the perfect fighting teacher for her, and she’s equally excited and anxious in that way only teenagers can be. She’s switching between napping and staring out the window all through the flight, her hands tight in its hold on his when they’re about to land.
It’s about two hours more, and a lot of Rachel raising her eyebrows at him every time he talks to people in a perfect French, before they make it to the Louvre. She forgets to make fun of him then, capable of nothing more than staring with her mouth agape. It makes him smirk, just a little.
“Dick, the fuck?” she whispers to him as a museum worker guides them away from the permanent exhibitions and behind the scene, where the curators’ offices are. He’s never been here before, so it’s as new to him as it is to Rachel, but still he recognises that long ponytail the moment they walk into one particular office.
The woman it belongs to turns around to greet her visitors, polite smile blossoming into a grin at the sight of him. “Dicki, it’s been so long!”
She steals the breath from his lungs when she hugs him, and Dick replies with a weak laugh as he pats her back awkwardly. It’s all worth it, though, when Rachel’s mouth drops open, her eyes wide. She’s rarely ever left speechless, so Dick takes it as a small victory.
“Diana, this is the girl I told you about. Rachel, let me introduce you to…”
“Wonder Woman,” she sighs. Almost in awe, which is definitely a first for Rachel. “You want Wonder Woman to train me?”
Diana is grinning by now, so unlike the way she behaves around the other members of the Justice League. Or, well. Around Bruce. Mostly around Bruce. But who could blame her, really. Dick is about 99% certain that at least part of the reason she agreed to do this is to ruffle some bat-feathers, and he can’t even say he minds. As long as it gets the job done and Rachel is in good hands, he doesn’t care how petty people are about how much of a douche Bruce is.
“It takes decades for the Amazons to grow into skilled warriors,” she tells Rachel. “You will have to work hard, if you want to achieve even a fraction of this in only two months.”
Rachel’s head snaps toward him, her eyes and grin even wider now. “I’m staying with Wonder Woman for two months?”
When Dick nods in agreement, she lets out the kind of squeaky sound she will then swears never happens and throws herself at him. He laughs when her arms wraps around his neck, to the point where he feet don’t even touch the floor anymore. “Only the best for my best girl,” he whispers to her.
“Thank you so much,” she whispers back, her voice breaking a little on the tears she will not shed.
She squeaks him a little tighter, just for a second, before she lets go of him. Her grin is dazzling, almost a match for Diana’s smile, and Dick’s heart does a weird loopy thing in his chest. Fuck, but he loves this kid so damn much it’s ridiculous. He’d give her the moon if he could. He’s giving her two months with an actual goddess, just because.
“Make me proud, okay?” he says as he ruffles her hair a little, just to make her huff. Then, turning toward Diana, “Thank you so much for doing this.”
Her smile is kind, understanding. It reminds him of all the stories he’s heard about her, legends of her glory during the First World War, rumours of her good deeds all through the years, tales of her powers and actions with the League. She’s a bit of a legend, in more ways than one. Maybe he’s a bit in awe with her, too.
“My pleasure, Dicki. I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry,” she replies as she wraps an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. Usually Rachel would tense up, but she does the same thing she only ever does with Kory, leaning a little against Diana with a smile. Which says a lot about Diana’s charisma, as well as how much Rachel has changed since he met her. “And don’t be a stranger, okay? It’s one thing that you don’t talk to him anymore, but we’ll always be fond of you.”
“Noted.” He swings his arms a little, before clapping them. “I better keep going then. I’ll see you in two months, Rach.”
Anxiety flashes through her eyes, just for a second. She might be at ease with Diana, but it doesn’t make her old fears go away – those fears he put into his mind, like the moron he is. It’s been ages, but still they linger. They always will, and he only has himself to blame for that.
“Coming back to get me?” she asks, her voice small.
He’s the one to hug her this time because, fuck. He’s never gone that long without her since they met. He’s going to miss her like crazy, and worry about her every step of the way. Is she doing fine? Enjoying herself? Eat well, sleeping enough? Is Diana too harsh about it? Is she missing them, as much as he misses her?
“Promise,” he answers, because it’s what she needs to hear.
She grins against his neck, and he smiles. She will be just fine.
…
five.
“Were you even planning on telling us?”
He freezes at her words, his back to her. Rachel sighs as she leans against the door frame, arms folded on her chest. It’s the middle of the night, Kory already asleep and Gar playing video games with headphones on. It’s barely surprisingly that Rachel was the only one to hear Dick sneaking around. She’s always been the lighter sleeper of the gang.
Dick sighs too as he shoves a bunch of t-shirts in his overnight bag before turning around to face her. His eyes are red, deep shadows under them, and it’s enough for her frustration to disappear and for her to be on him in an instant. She grabs his shoulders, trying to make him look at her when he won’t even meet her eyes.
“Something happened,” he says. Small. Broken. “I need to go.”
“Dick…” Her knuckles brush against his jaw, before she cups his cheek and forces him to look at her. There is no denying the wetness of his eyes, from up close.
She’s never seen him cry before.
“He’s back, Rach.” He sniffs. “The Joker is back and he killed Jason. I’ve got – I need – Bruce…”
Rachel’s heart leaps in her throat until it closes up and she feels like throwing up. Her mind got blank and fuzzy, her legs like cotton. They met Jason several times since his first encounter with Dick – sometimes showing up at the warehouse to play video games with Gar, sometimes helping them on a case, rarely asking for their help. He was an ally more than a friend but – he was one of the good ones. He didn’t deserve to die.
She opens her mouth, but Dick speaks up before she can say a word. “Don’t say you’re sorry. Just let me do this without arguing, okay?”
“It’s dangerous,” she argues anyway.
“I know.”
“You could be next!”
“Fuck, I know, okay!”
She startles at his yell. He never raises his voice, ever, especially not on her. She doesn’t know how to react to the fury in his voice, the flames in his eyes, how taunt his muscles are under he fingers where she’s still grabbing his arms. She forces herself not to use her powers, not to see what is happening deeping within his mind. It’s written all over his face anyway, not that she can see much of it when her eyes are blurry with the tears now rolling down her cheeks.
So she lets go of him, slowly, despite her own mind screaming at her to stop him. Lets go of him and stands here, watching as he finishes packing his bag before he moves toward the cabinet where they keep their weapons. Where he keeps his old suit, and that’s how big and serious the situation is – that he would rather be Robin than Nightwing for this mission. It feels too real, copper on her tongue and sulfur in her stomach.
He’s at the door when she calls his name. He turns around, raising one eyebrow at him. Rachel deflates, just a little, before she takes a breath and finds her nerve again. If she doesn’t do it now and – nothing will happen to him, okay. But if something does, she will regret not doing this all her life.
So she squares her shoulders, and says, “I love you, okay.”
He smiles. It’s a little wobbly and sad, but he smiles and walks back the few step separating them so he can cup the back of her head with his hand and press a sealing kiss to her forehead. Rachel sucks a breath as she closes her eyes. She isn’t as religious as she used to be, but still she sends a quick prayer out there. Please, please, don’t let anything happen to him.
Perhaps someone will listen.
“I love you too, Rach. Take care of the others for me when I’m gone.”
“Until you’re back,” she confirms.
He pauses, for one beat too long. “Until I’m back. I promise.”
It’s the first time he makes a promise he might not keep.
…
plus one.
She’s working on a maths problem when a knock on the door takes her out of her own mind, raising her head to find Dick standing there. He smiles at her, just one corner of his mouth lifting up, so she frowns in reply. He’s been cute on purpose. It never ends well.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure,” she replies, closing her books and pushing them to the side. She was starting to get a headache about statistics anyway, so it’s almost a good thing Dick is taking her out of her misery.
Her bed is big enough for him to lie down next to her, lounging there like he owns the place. (He doesn’t; Bruce does; they remind Dick of that fact all the time.) It almost makes her laugh, to know this is the man who was voted Gotham’s Sexiest Vigilante Alive, because, well. Right now he looks like a twelve-year-old boy ready for his first slumber party with his friends.
“What’s up?” she asks as she shifts a little so she’s facing him, sitting cross-legged on the mattress.
He licks his lips, scratching behind his ear with one hand as he replies, “I have a gift for you. But you need to swear you won’t get mad if you don’t like it.”
She frowns at him for real this time because – what the fuck. Dick isn’t big on gifts as it is, but the few times he’s actually given her something he never really missed his target. Unlike Gar, who messes up almost every time he tries to be nice for someone’s birthday, because he gets too excited about everything when he’s in an eager mood.
“O-kay?” she draws out slowly, confused.
Even more confused when Dick grabs an envelope in the back pocket of his pants and hands it to her. It takes her a second to process it before Rachel takes it, surprised by how heavy it is. Heavier than, say, a random gift card or something. She opens it delicately, glancing back at Dick only to find him looking as nervous as she feels. It really must be something important, if he’s so unsure of her reaction to it.
When she looks inside it, it’s to find a bunch of papers and a passport, shiny and dark blue. She grabs that first, of course, opening it on the first page and –
A gasp.
A breath.
A small whimper.
‘Grayson, Rachel Angela,’ it reads on the passport, next to a picture of her. It’s got all her details correct, date and place of birth, even her middle name. But. Grayson. Here, black on light blue background. His name, just next to hers.
“Dick, the fuck?”
“Alfred did all the paperwork for us, so we wouldn’t have to worry about messing it up. And so we don’t have to worry about social services and shit anymore, either. No more fake papers, no more hiding or anything. This is the real stuff, Rach.”
She sucks in a breath between her teeth, unable to look away from the passport. “So you, like, adopted me?”
He grins, with a snort of laughter, like the asshole he definitely is. “Yes I, like, adopted you.”
She looks up at him, passport falling between her crossed legs, aware that she’s gawking now but unable to do anything about it. Because her brain is too slow at processing that information and knowing what to do with it. Because Dick seriously went and did that for her, no question asked. Made sure she wouldn’t run into problems like they almost did so many times when the cops were involved and it was made very obvious by security cameras that one of the Titans vigilantes was underraged. Made sure no other evil organisation could try and claim her. Made sure she belongs. Somewhere. With him.
Because he adopted her. Officially.
With papers to prove it and shit.
“Do I have to call you dad?” she finds herself asking, to which Dick immediately bursts into laughter. She slaps his shoulder, “No, really?”
“Of course no, you idiot!” He’s still grinning, even as he grabs her wrist and pulls her down with him until she’s lying by his side. He doesn’t let go of her, not quite yet, so she puts her head on his shoulder. “I’ve always considered you a sister, you know that, right? Only, it’s official now.”
She closes her eyes, because she refuses to see his face when she asks, “But why?”
He does let go of her wrist now, if only to ruffle her hair. “Because it makes us family so maybe now you’ll know for sure I’ll always come back to you.”
It’s a good thing her eyes are closed already; it makes it easier for that lone tear to roll down the side of her face, before she moves around to hide against Dick’s chest. He laughs softly, a little out of breath, even as he wraps his arms around her to hold her tight.
“I know,” she says, the sound muffled by his shirt. “I know you won’t leave me again.”
“Good,” he replies. “It’s all that matters.”
And he’s right; it is.