On days like today there were short moments when I really pitied not being a masked vigilante any more. Starting with the morning, when I missed the bus, so I had to stop the taxi in order not to come late to work (again). Continuing through lunch, when somebody really apt spilled their cup of coffee on my blouse and I spent most of 1 hour lunch break in the rest-room trying to undo the damage (in vain). And in the evening both of my backpack´s shoulder straps broke – honestly, I was not very surprised by that, given the fact I usually have it literally bursting with books. Anyway, that didn´t improved my mood much either.
In short, there once was a time, when on days like today goons and criminals of Gotham had to be extra cautious. Especially not to cross me even more. Even Bruce then observed me more warily then usual, and…
No, I have to stop it right here. I must not think about… About green, red and yellow. About black and blue. Blue. Radiant blue of his…
Anger and frustration transformed into intestines-eating sorrow without me even noticing. Sorrow that threaten to rip my heart out of my chest.
It was a miracle I managed to let myself cry only after the doors of my apartment slam shut behind me. I blindly kicked my shoes off of my feet, hanged my jacket without looking, backpack was just dropped down on the floor from my weary arms.
I fell into my favourite armchair in the corner of the living room, curling up into a ball. I felt hot tears on my cheeks, and only being considerate toward my neighbours prevented me from howling loudly. I dug my face into my forearm, trying to muffle sobs.
After some time the wave of sorrow began to cease. What remained was dull pulsing numbness, feeling of emptiness and loneliness.
I wiped my eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of my jumper and my perfectionist me just sarcastically smirked with "good it´s dark one" thought.
I sighed, got up from the armchair and headed for the balcony door. While I was crouching on the armchair, it got dark outside. Streetlights went on, the city woke up to her night life.
I left the door ajar, allowing pleasant breeze in, and I drew the curtains. Fifth floor or not, I just felt better like that, more private.
I entered the bathroom to wash my hands and face. I watched myself in the mirror and had to grimace. Amazing sight. Smudged mascara, red eyes, red nose, red cheeks. Cute.
On my way back to the living room I picked up my torn backpack I previously left lying on the floor, next to the door. I have to move my things in something else, and what´s more important, find my phone. If something really didn´t change with years, then it was my inability to get up when the alarm-clock first sounds, not mentioning incapability managing it without any alarm clock altogether.
I opened the cupboard and started to rummage through its bigger lower drawer, where I use to keep various backpacks, bags and handbags. It has to be somewhere…
My fingers brushed on something hard and square. Curiously I dug my arm even deeper and gripped… a photoframe? I pulled it out of the drawer.
No. No more, not today, I begged inwardly. Shocked, I stared at the picture. Me and… him, hugging each other, wide smiles on both our faces, eyes sparkling with happiness. Since… that day I didn´t look at it. I swept it off the cupboard into the drawer, tossed pile of stuff on it, forgot it. Until now.
I knelt in front of the cupboard, photo in my hands, and felt new tears flooding my eyes. I stroke the face on the picture with my thumb, bright blue colour of his eyes well visible even in spite of the small format and dim light in the room.
"Dick.." I whispered. For the first time in I don´t know how long I said his name. "Dick..."
"Babs."
OK, so as a cherry on the top we have here auditory hallucinations. Paranoid schizophrenia? Age would fit, family history of mental disease… Or I just simply finally broke down.
"Babs!"
My head snapped up, I turned to the left from where the voice came.
In the doorframe there stood… It´s not possible, can´t be.
"Barbara, breathe," he remarked mockingly, head tilted to side, as he usually did when taunting me. I could definitely see his amused, a bit crooked smile. Only now I noticed my head is starting to swim. I quickly took a breath and simultaneously I closed my mouth – my jaw dropped nearly down to the floor.
Two steps, in a moment he knelt in front of me, his arms slightly raised, as if he didn´t know what should he do.
I didn´t hesitate for a second. I threw myself into his arms and drew him near. It took about a heartbeat to him before he hugged me, stroking my back with one hand, as I sobbed uncontrollably, face hidden in the sweater on his chest.
God, his scent. I didn´t know you can miss even someone´s scent so much.
"Babs, I… am sorry," he stuttered. "I…"
I pulled away from him only that far, so I could look into his eyes.
"Kissing now. Talking later" I smiled through tears.
He smiled too, dazzling ´Dick Grayson smile´ full strength. He wrapped one arm around my waist, buried the second in my hair and kissed me gently.