Dick holds onto Rachel as if he can keep her from falling apart. It takes her several minutes to stop crying, even longer to stop shaking. He tries to use that time to compose himself, school his features into something close to a neutral expression. It's hard, though, when he can't stop blaming himself for this. Her words from their first meeting play over in his head.
Don't leave me here.
There's something inside of me. Something evil.
Don't leave me here.
It occurs to him that he should actually say something. All he can come up with is, "Hey." He tries again. "Hey, come on. It's okay." He takes another look at the pieces of paper lining the bathtub and wants nothing more than to get her out of there. "Can you stand up?"
Without making a sound, Rachel shifts back and rises on unsteady legs. Dick keeps a hand on each of her shoulders. "You're okay." He says again. She nods once and steps out of the bathtub. He urges her out the door and she crawls onto the bed. She tucks her knees into her chest and pulls her hood over her head. Dick hovers awkwardly at the edge of the bed, totally out of his element.
"Those pictures," he glances toward his side of the hotel room, "is that what set you off?" She doesn't answer. "Do you want to talk about it?" At her silence, Dick looks helplessly around the room for some idea of what to do. "You want some pizza?"
Rachel picks her head up, barely. Just enough to shoot him an incredulous look. He swallows. "Right, sorry. I'll just…" He snaps his mouth shut and moves to leave.
"No pineapples?" Rachel says.
Dick pivots slowly. "No pineapples."
She glances at the pizza box and nods. Dick hands her a slice and she nibbles at it halfheartedly. With his appetite totally gone, Dick just stares out the window as if some foe will appear in the parking lot. In some ways that would be easier. He knows how to fight monsters in the real world.
"You're scared of me." Dick whips his head around and locks eyes with Rachel. "I can feel it."
"No," he says automatically, but then he's struggling for words. "I'm… I'm worried about you."
She doesn't challenge him on that. She unfolds one of the hotel napkins and sets the half eaten pizza on the nightstand, then collapses onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
"My mom was scared of me." She sounds resigned, like the fact is too familiar to make her sad anymore.
Dick can't argue. He doesn't know. Instead he thinks about the paper crosses and the desperate Hail Mary. "Was your mom religious?" he asks.
Rachel nods. "I don't know how much she was before me, but when… everything started…" She sits up and presses herself against the headboard like she can disappear into it. "Do you believe in God?"
His gut reaction is to laugh because he hasn't believed in a higher power since he lost his parents. There's something in her expression that stops him.
"I don't know. Maybe." It doesn't feel like a lie, and Rachel doesn't seem to receive it that way.
They sit in silence for several minutes before Rachel says without looking at him, "She talks to me."
Dick stifles a shiver and keeps his voice even. "Your mom?" Rachel shakes her head. Dick remembers what she cried in the bathroom when he tried to touch her.
I don't want her getting out.
Dick takes a steadying breath and asks, "What does she say?"
Rachel meets his eyes for a moment but quickly looks away. She curls in on herself and stares obstinately at the wall. It hits Dick like a physical blow just how ill-equipped he is to help this kid. It may be more than even Dawn can handle, but at least she's warm and open. Dick will just make everything worse.
In a last-ditch effort, he says, "Want to watch some Game of Thrones?"
To his surprise, the corners of her mouth perk up. "Should you be watching that?" She says mockingly.
Dick narrows his eyes, but his lips are curling up, too. Rachel shifts all the way over on the bed to make room, which surprises him even more. He sits down tentatively while Rachel grabs the remote and finds the right channel.
"Mom never let me watch HBO, so I don't really know what's going on, but I think this girl is my favorite." She points at a petite brunette with cropped hair and a sword.
Dick smirks. "Seems fitting."
Rachel glares at him. "You're that guy." A tall knight with a facial scar says something sneering to the girl.
Dick rolls his eyes which makes Rachel's smile return. She flops onto her stomach, attention now totally glued to the T.V. Something happens on screen that makes her giggle and the sound makes Dick a little sad. Maybe he could have gotten to know her. Maybe they could have become friends. Maybe he could have helped her, but deep down he knows that isn't possible. He can't help someone fight their inner demons when he's barely surviving his own.