This story takes place in the Batman: The Animated Series/Batman Beyond Universe. It is an alternate ending to the scene in the episode "Old Wounds" when Dick Grayson visits Barbara Gordon in the middle of the night after having a spat with Batman/Bruce Wayne.
After cleaning the 'fridge…
What was that infernal racket? I lifted my head from my pillow and squinted at the clock: 3:14 am. It took me a few seconds to register what was going on. There was another urgent knock. My curiosity got the better of me, like it always does, and I threw my blanket back. I dragged my feet to my desk and put on my robe. With every step I grew more awake. The caller knocked again.
"Just a minute," I called. I reached the door, but I left the chain on as I opened it. Dick Grayson's face was revealed, dimly lit from the light from the window of my one-room apartment. "Dick?" I had only seen that expression on his face a few times before: it was long and stewing with anger just below the surface. "What's wrong?" I asked. I shut the door and took off the chain.
I opened the door, and he walked purposefully to the center of my apartment. I fiddled with the ties on my robe. This had better not be a booty call. Especially after he cut our date short that evening.
"I didn't know where else to go," he said, with his back to me. "I've had it!" He spun around and his arm cut the air. "I can't do this anymore." He turned his back on me again and walked closer to the window.
I took step along side him. His forehead was in a scowl, and I swear I heard his teeth grind. "Do what?" I asked in my most comforting tone. I figured this had something to do with Bruce again, but what could have happened since I last saw him? Did Dick confront him for missing his graduation? Was it something else? I mean, there are those rumors about the wealthy single bachelor and his "ward," but I didn't really put any stock in them. Especially since Dick and I started seeing each other. But he and Bruce do have a unique relationship…
"I've got to get away," he said urgently and turned his head away from me. He woke me up in the middle of the night and can't look at me? I'm in a tiny black nightie and a robe.
"Away from him," Dick's last word dripped with venom as he turned away from me, again, and marched across the room. Confirmed, Bruce problems. Definitely not a booty call. I was a little disappointed, but I'd never tell.
Again I followed him, talking to his back, "I don't understand." I reached out for his arm, but he turned his body abruptly.
His head whipped over his shoulder, and he finally looked at me. "How could you?" His head whipped around, away from me. "How could anybody?"
I grasped his arm, hoping he would make eye contact with me again. Hoping he would unload some of his pain. I also really hoped it wasn't any kinky pedophile stuff, but I tried to mentally prepare myself for it. Is there a way to prepare to hear that sort of stuff?
"Well, sit down and tell me about it," I said quickly. He looked down at my face. I had him! His face opened up, less angry and more…worried maybe. It was hard to tell.
"I….I can't." And he turned his face away. I lost eye contact. I lost him.
"You can tell me." I reached up and ran my hand along his cheek, turning his head so I could lock his eyes again.
It worked for a millisecond. Then he grabbed my hand and removed it from his face. "It's not that; it's just…" For the millionth time that night, he turned away from me. "Oh, forget it!" In two steps he was at the door. He raised his voice. I knew he wasn't angry with me, but it stung anyway. "I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry. I've got to work this out on my own." His hand was on the doorknob, but I was faster [1].
In a blink, I was between Dick and the door. "No you don't!" I slammed the door shut, and pushed him in the chest. He stepped back. I think I surprised him a little. If I wasn't so angry, I may have laughed. Instead, I ranted, "You do not get to wake me up at 3 in the morning, rant and rave about something you obviously need to talk to somebody about, and then leave. Especially after you ditched me earlier to 'clean the fridge!'" I popped a hip and used air quotes on that last phrase to emphasize my fury.
His mouth opened and closed. I might have blown a synapse in his poor head. I pointed to my bed, which was really the only piece of furniture two people could sit on at my place. "Sit," I ordered.
His expression and movement looked rebellious for a second, but I raised my eyebrows and locked my jaw. He hated this face. He knew he shouldn't mess with me when I'm wearing this face. I finally had his attention.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come," he said again.
"Wrong answer," I replied. "Sit."
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other a few times before whipping around and plopping himself reluctantly on the bed. He sat near the foot of the bed and let his face fall into his hands. "I don't want to bring you into this."
I rolled my eyes and put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm already in this. I want to be in this. I care about you." I crawled behind him on the bed, and massaged his shoulders a little. "Look, you don't have to tell me what's going on. But you have to tell somebody. And soon. This has been eating you up inside for a while now. You're human, Dick Grayson. It's okay to rely on someone else once in a while. You don't have to do everything yourself."
Something I said clicked in his head, because half the tension in his shoulders dropped, and my massages aren't that good. He slowly reclined back until his head was in my lap. I looked down at him and brushed his hair with my fingertips.
"You're right," he said. I smiled. He smirked and continued, "That smile's not quite as big as the one you get when I -"
I slapped his wandering hand. "Not in the mood for sexy talk, Mr. Grayson." I continued to stoke his hair. We sat in silence for…, I'm not sure how long. It was peaceful. It was nice.
I thought Dick had fallen asleep until he spoke. His voice was gravelly. "Babs, you are amazing."
"I told you: I'm not in the mood," I scolded with a smile.
Dick appeared a little insulted. "Not every compliment I give you is foreplay."
I raised an eyebrow. "That's not what your record says."
He smirked. "You know what I think?"
"Now that I've uncovered your foreplay scheme, you must initiate Plan B?"
He chuckled and turned onto his side. "I think –" The shrill beeping of his pager interrupted him [2]. His sweet face that I spent the night coaxing into being was replaced by an anger ball. He pulled the pager out of his pocket and chucked it at the wall. It broke and fell to the floor.
I sat, silently watching his reaction. He had turned his back to me again, sitting on the edge of my bed. He glared at the broken device, but didn't move to the door. So far, it's a win.
I could tell he was arguing with himself. He wanted to talk. I scooted next to him, but I didn't say anything. A minute later I slid my hand into his. After another minute I leaned my head against his shoulder.
Too soon he said, "I have to go." His voice was emotionless.
Before I considered the consequences, I snapped, "What is it now? Unload the dishwasher? We both know the fridge is clean."
"No." Dick had a new resolve to his voice. He clasped my hand in his turned toward me. "I can't keep lying to you. You are too important." He paused. I wanted to insert a witty quip, but I didn't want to say something that would change his mind. "I…I don't know where to start," he said.
I smiled kindly and stroked his cheek. He sighed and looked at the broken pager on the floor out of the corner of his eye. When his eyes came back to me, he said, "I have to go. I'm afraid that if I don't, he's going to get hurt."
I was taken aback. "Hurt? Hurt himself? Is he suicidal?" I was already sorting out the red flag behavior in my head. Suicidal manic depression actually made some sense with Bruce's alternating between the playboy and recluse personas.
Dick shook his head. "No, no, no. He…gets himself in dangerous situations. Sometimes he needs backup." The look on my face must have communicated my confusion perfectly, because he sighed and blurted out, "I'm Robin."
I blinked. Hard. "Huh?"
"Robin. The Robin of Batman and." He dropped my hands and turned away (again). "Since my parents died. I went after their murder. So did he." He stood up walked to the center of the room, his back to me. "There's something wrong with me."
And I finally was able to put the whole story together. I could see Robin in the way Dick walked. Hell, if I had paid closer attention to his moves in the gym and on the rooftop, I should have been able to figure it out a long time ago. It was so obvious when Mr. Freeze kidnapped me when Dick and I went out dancing [3]. This night had taken the weirdest turn. So I laughed.
Dick jumped and looked at me. The confused look on his face made me laugh even harder. I was laughing so hard; I couldn't sit up any longer. I collapsed onto my bed.
He raised an eyebrow and looked down at me. "You know, in the hundreds of scenarios I played in my head of when I told you, in not one of them were you laughing hysterically." He paused; when I didn't stop laughing he said, "I'm Robin. Seriously."
I tried to calm down enough to talk, but it didn't work.
"Is it the tights?" he asked.
"Only a little," I managed to say. He looked hurt. That sobered me up. I took his hands and set him on the bed. "I'm laughing, because, well, we make quite a pair, Boy Wonder." I knelt down on the floor and pulled up a loose floorboard. I reached in and tossed him a Batarang [4].
"You have a Batarang. So…." his voice trailed off as he recognized this very specific Batarang. He continued to stare at it. "This is the Batarang I gave –"
"Me," I finished for him.
He shook his head. "No."
"Yes."
I saw his epiphany. "You had asked Batman to come to your dad's rally, but he was going undercover – " [4]
"So I went to make a public appearance," I finished. "You kinda made me Batgirl, you know? You're the one who ripped the hole in my cowl."
"You mean the cheap Halloween costume that was two sizes too big for you?"
My smile faded as I studied Dick's face: he stared intensely at the Batarang with a deep frown. "Are you upset?" I asked.
He shook his head. "This is a lot to take in."
"That we're both morons that couldn't put our secret identities together?"
He rang his fingers along the edges of the Batarang. "No, well, a little." He flipped the weapon over and did the same to the other side. "It's just that, until 2 minutes ago, I thought you were the one normal thing in my life. My grounding. My rock."
"And I'm not those now? Just because I spend a few nights jumping rooftops?"
Dick ran his hand through his hair. "I kinda liked the idea of having something, someone important, separate from my night life."
I felt rejected. "I would have thought you'd be happy. We both have something 'wrong' with us. And you know, it could make stakeouts a little more interesting."
His eyes widened a little, and a smirk flashed across his face for a second. Oh, yeah, he was imagining some rooftop funtime. Unfortunately, his smile didn't last. "It was so obvious. You know Bruce probably knew from the beginning. I wonder why he didn't want me to tell you our secret, when he already knew who you were. Before I thought that he wanted to protect you, but maybe… I don't know. I'm rambling now. There are chess masters out there that can't keep up with Bruce's strategy and manipulation." He stood up solemnly. "Speaking of Bruce. I'd better go."
I sprung from the floor. "Where are we going?"
"What? No, you should sleep. I've kept you up half the night."
"I had more sleep than you. You're the one more likely to get sloppy."
"It's the Joker this time. That's one crazy you shouldn't meet if you don't have to."
"Dick, I want to make this clear. You can worry about me. You can tell me your opinions about what I do. You can ask me to do things for you. But always remember, I make my own decisions. I understand the consequences, and I make the choice, my choice, always. This is both Batgirl and Barbara Gordon talking."
"If I don't take you with me, you're just going to get mixed up in it on your own, aren't you? Like with Gil Mason and Two-Face [6]."
I put my arms behind my back and gave him the same sweet smile I gave him on the rooftop that night when I followed my own lead to Two-Face's hideout. "Who? Little ol' me?"
He sighed, defeated. "Grab your stuff."
[1] This is where I deviate from the episode.
[2] Yes, the cartoon is dated and Dick wears a Bat-pager in this episode.
[3] In the animated movie: Batman and Mr. Freeze: Subzero.
[4] Robin gave Batgirl a Batarang in "Shadow of the Bat: Part II."
[5] In "Shadow of the Bat: Part I."
[6] In "Shadow of the Bat: Part II."