He reached out to bang the heavy knocker on the manor door, its face twisted in a feral snarl. Eye's peered out from deep inside the
gargoyle's head with a new type of hate. He looked away, the gargoyle should hate him. He hurt her in a way a villain never could. He
shifted her weight in his arms, her shivering had stopped and that worried him. The first sign of hypothermia, when the body is so cold it
can no longer shiver. Alfred opened the door, startled to see Richard holding a very wet girl in his arms.
"Master Richard?"
"I need a place to put her and a way to warm her up fast."
Alfred nodded "I'll draw her up a warm bath sir."
Richard shifted her in his arms again, this time trying to bring her as close to his body as possible, hopping that she wouldn't be mad
when she found out where she was. He studied her face, it was still gray, her hair was still purple, it was the way her nose scrunched up
and the way her cheeks had tear marks all over them that surprised him. She didn't cry. She didn't show emotions. Yet here she was,
clearly in some sort of pain and he hated the feeling that he caused it. She would understand his reasons, she had to.
He sat on the toilet as Alfred played with the hot and cold taps, making sure it wasn't too hot, as to send her into some sort of shock.
Richard moved the wet hair from her face and studied her blue tinged lips, they were cracked and puffy with dryness. His frown
deepened as he slowly began to stroke her hair, letting it slide through his finger tips. Alfred cleared his throat and pointed towards the
bath before leaving.
Slowly Richard began to lift off her t-shirt, its wet fabric clung to her skin and he ended up having to tare it, than peel it from her body.
Her eyes fluttered open and he gently ran his knuckles across her cheek, she didn't say a thing but silent tears started to slip down her
face. He broke eye-contact and undid the button on her jeans, then the zipper. She struggled beneath him and he hummed a soft lullaby
to calm her before pulling the jeans off. He watched them peel from her thighs, slide from her calves and pool at her feet in a tangled
mass of wet fabric. She lay on his lap, now pushing harder against him to get free, but she was so tired. So, so very tired. He gently
stroked her hair again never letting his voice waver from the lullaby.
He stood up bringing her with him and gently lifted her into the bath, she let out a whimper as she hit the water. He rolled his sleeves up
and used an arm to keep her sitting up while the other one brought a rubber duck from under the tub. He set it in the water and she
reached out cautiously to run a finger over its head then off its tail. She turned to him and gave him a small little smile. Maybe everything
would be okay.
He had felt like crying when she gave him that smile, but instead he splashed the water around a little, making the duck move towards
her. He looked up, relief settled on his face when he saw her lips and face gaining color. She still looked so small and little though, like if
his hand weren't keeping her upright she would drown. He used his free hand to undo his belt, then to undo the buttons on his shirt.
When he was just in his boxers he got into the porcelain tub behind her and she leaned back against him. His head rested on her head
and her back stiffened. He hummed his lullaby and reached his arms around her taking her hands in his and bringing them to rest on the
duck. She relaxed her eyes following her duck with interest before she turned her head back to look at him. The emptiness didn't seem
so empty anymore, but she couldn't forget how it had felt, and how it could feel that way again. Her arms went limp and she fell back
against his chest, asleep because, right now might be the only time she would sleep and feel safe. Richard stood from the bath holding her
and reaching for a towel. The water sloshed around his legs and rolled against the sides of the tub, the watery noise making her shift so he
almost dropped her, and the duck bobbed with the water, never letting the towering bath waves take it over.
! N33D YOu
"Bruce." Richard acknowledged his fathers presence as he walked into the room. The older man walked over to the bed Richard was
sitting on, and slowly lifted the covers. His aged hand griped the sheets with a gentleness his son had never seen before. The smooth
blanket lifted to show what at first he thought was a child, but then discovered was a girl. He looked away from her smooth face and to
his son's, his smile was warn and thin. His blue eyes looked back at the girl who was seemingly trying to shrink farther into the blankets,
so they might cover her face again. Old habits die hard. He placed her covers back over her head and rested a hand on her shoulder.
Richard watched this all intently, he knew what Bruce was thinking and it was somewhere along the lines of "A new batgirl to spoil." Her
hand slipped out from under the covers and found Bruce's. Her finger tips ran across the leather of his palm then stilled. He looked down
at her hand, and his smile seemed a little wider.
"What are you doing with a twelve year old Rich?"
"She's not twelve, she's nineteen."
At that Bruce looked up, "She acts like a frightened little girl."
Richard looked down, "That's because she is, we need to be careful with her."
Bruce nodded and ran his thumb across the back of her hand, all Richard could think was "who is this man and what has he done with
Bruce Wayne?" Who knew the caped crusader had a gentle side?
H07D M3
She cautiously poked her head above the covers so only her eyes and forehead showed. Letting herself take a visual sweep of the room,
she pulled the covers down bellow her shoulders. Slowly she got off the bed her bare feet connecting with the wooden flooring. She
walked over to the full length mirror, the beautiful room reflecting in its glassy surface. She put a hand to its face, feeling the cool glass
beneath her fingers. She glanced down at herself then back at the mirror. She was wearing Batman boxers and a large Beatles shirt. She
let out a small gasp, Robin? They smelled like Robin, she pulled her arms out of the sleeves and rapped them around herself under the
shirt. She walked back towards the bed, pulled her arms back into the sleeves and heaved herself back up onto the bed. She crawled
across it to the pillows, the mattress sinking beneath her. She took a pillow in her hand and smoothed away the wrinkles before bringing
it to her chest.
"Hey."
Her head shot up and her eyes focused on him. "Hi," it came out a whisper. He walked over and reached out an arm for her, she
growled and backed away.
"Come here, we need to talk."
"No. We. Do. Not. You left! Everyone left! End of story."
"Come here baby," he beckoned her over, "you're not doing so good. I'll take care of you. I promise."
"I'm not a child, Robin." She spat his name with particular venom, "I'll have you know I can take care of myself just fine and you would
do well to not make promises you have no intention of keeping."
"You are a child! Don't you see? You never got to be the child so you never truly grew up. I'll show you how to live again, we'll do it
together."
"I AM living bird brain, and just because I skipped that little childhood whatever phase does not mean I need to learn to be one! I want
you to go away, just like you did before. I will not depend on you, I just won't!"
"No, angel, you're breathing, not living and I won't leave again."
"Yes! Yes You Will! Don't do this to me! Stop it, Stop it, Stop it, STOP IT!"
Her hands were scrunched into her hair and she was shaking her head violently. Robin lifted himself onto the bed and slowly crawled
over to her. He took her chin in his hand and pulled so she was looking at him.
"Hey, let's start this over." He whispered into her neck.
"Hi," she whispered back.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Yes, I'd like to leave now."
"Okay, after Christmas, you can go."
"Because I'm not a child."
"Because you're not a child."
