Barbara huffed as she sat atop the cherry colored monkey bars, legs dangling. She idly chipped away at the paint beside her, digging into it with her nail. She rubbed her face gently, and smoothed out the skirt of her yellow sundress, before checking her phone for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past hour. Biting her lip, she turned it off and rolled her eyes. Still no word from Dick.
The sun that had shone brightly when she arrived had started its descent back beneath the horizon, and the sky had begun to turn into a vermillion orange. Closing her eyes and letting out a disappointed sigh, she pushed herself up from her position and grabbed the edge of the bars, swinging down onto the mulch below.
She couldn't believe he actually stood her up. It's been weeks since they'd done anything together, and she had been so excited when he confirmed the plans. He seemed just as happy to be able to hang out – guess not. At least when he's had to cancel before he had the decency to send her a text.
She briskly began marching towards the park's exit, sending a message to her dad as she left to let him know she's on her way back. She messed with the hem of her dress as she walked, trying to ignore the feeling of hot tears brimming the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away with her arm before they had the chance to fall, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously.
Maybe he was actually replacing her. Maybe she wasn't enough for him anymore, she wasn't a good enough friend. She wasn't rich enough or pretty enough or funny enough. He got tired of hearing about her dad or her problems or her scholarship. Oh god. Was she going to lose her scholarship?
Opening her phone once more, she pulled up Dick's messages. She sent a quick "Great to see you" text, before clicking on his contact and hitting the block button. If he didn't have time for her, she didn't have time for his halfhearted excuses.
She made her way to her apartment as fast as she could, swiftly avoiding any areas known for violence. She jumbled with her keys quietly as she approached the door, pushing the door open and slamming it shut hastily. She stalked into her bedroom and locked the door, pulling off her dress and throwing on her pajama shirt from last night.
After getting changed, she continued to stand, eyeing her bedroom distastefully. As she looked around at her room, every corner filled with memories, the tears from earlier returned full force. They were running down her cheeks, flowing freely, and she couldn't be bothered to wipe them away.
In a surge of emotion, she raced into the kitchen, grabbing a garbage bag, and stomped back. She rushed around the room, pulling off polaroids from the walls, knickknacks from the bookshelf, and jewelry from her vanity. She pulled out shoes and candies and cards, throwing everything into the plastic bag harshly. As she made her way around, she stopped before her bedside table, her gaze fixed at the picture sitting there. His face beamed up at her. She gently dropped the bag to the ground and reached out for it. She stared at it intently in her hand, before biting her lip angrily, brows furrowed, and chucking it into the wall. She could hear the wood of the frame crack.
She let out a quiet sob and climbed into her bed, huddling into the covers. She grabbed her phone from beside her and went into her contacts, briskly finding Bette's number and hitting the video call button.
"Hey-looo," Bette greeted sweetly, and Barbara could hear the smile in her voice as clearly as she could see it on her face. At least one of her friends was eager to talk to her.
"Bette?" She croaks softly, looking up from her pillow into the camera.
"Barb? Are you okay? What's going on?" Bette questioned frantically, her voice gentle and concerned. It almost made Barbara want to cry more.
"It's Dick." She says, rolling over onto her back. She moved her arm over her eyes and exhaled through her nose, frustrated. Her tears were still leaking, wetting both her face and arm.
"Dick? What did he do?" Bette asked, nose scrunched up in confusion. "Wait, Barb, hold on. Let me go into my room."
The screen went blurry for a few seconds, before Bette reappeared. The camera bounced as she sat down, before steadying and focusing on her face.
"Okay, we're good. Now, Dick. What did he do?" She repeated, eyes shining in sympathy. Barbara could only imagine what a mess she looks like right now.
"Well, we were going to go to the park – our park – today." She started, setting her phone on the pillow beside her and wiping off her face with her collar.
"Did you finally tell him?" Bette questioned almost eagerly. "Did he, like, react badly?"
"Wha-" Barbara's eyebrow raised in confusion. "Did I tell him what?"
"Oh, uh, never mind. So what happened?"
"He stood me up, Bette. He stood me up!" Barbara replied, frustrated.
"He – oh. Oh." Came Bette's understanding response, her head nodding. "What a…Dick."
"You can say that again," She scoffed, staring at her ceiling.
"Have you tried calling him or something? Maybe he just got busy," The blonde tried.
"He's just gotten busy for months! I never even see him anymore. I thought I was supposed to mean something to him? What happened to being best friends?" She let out a small sniffle. "He probably just got tired of me."
"Yeah…you're right, you guys haven't been as close; but you should at least talk to him before you go assuming things. Dick Grayson is the last person alive who would ever get tired of you," Bette smiled warmly.
"I guess I can try and ask him on Monday," She gave in, rolling over to get more comfortable.
Bette smiled encouragingly. "Good. Now you, girly, need to get some rest. Go get yourself some comfort food and Disney movies and get your butt to sleep. I need my friends in prime condition."
A grin broke onto Barbara's face. "Yeah, I do. Thank you, Bette. I love you," She yawned. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Barb. I love you too." Bette smiled.
Her phone screen went blank, signaling the end of the call. With a groan, she willed herself to sit up, scratching the top of her head lightly. She slowly made her way to the apartment's kitchen with slumped shoulders, grabbing a premade sub from the fridge, and plopping down on the sofa.
She grabbed the remote from the coffee table in front of her, and flipped through the channels until a news story grabbed her attention. It was something on Batman and Robin. The camera showed a broken up warehouse by the harbor, surrounded by at least twenty emergency vehicles. Various shots of the heroes were pictured as the host spoke of a sex trafficking bust earlier in the evening.
She finished the sandwich just as the news went off, its successor a late night talk show she didn't find herself interested in. She turned off the TV with a quiet click, and dusted off the crumbs that had ended up on her clothes. She stood up with a sigh, and made her way back into her darkened room. She navigated through the black room with her arms out, and climbed into her bed with closed eyes. She fell asleep to the quiet creaking of her ceiling fan echoing through the space.
Her eyes fluttered open as she awoke to a loud thumping noise resonating in her ears. She blinked as she processed the sound, and sat up slowly, rubbing the gunk out of her eyes. Suspiciously, she scanned her now barren bedroom for the source of the noise. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on the large window inhabiting the wall to her right.
She stood up, curious, and silently inched towards the glass. Her heartbeat quickened as she got closer, eyes frantically looking around the outside fire escape. She relaxed when she couldn't see anything, turning around to make her way back to bed.
As she walked, she heard the smooth sound of her window sliding open – and instinctively let out a shrill shriek. She whipped around, eyes wide, and stared at her open window where a figure was now perched.
"Hiya," The figure – a male – smirked, and she could feel his eyes bore into her, despite not being able to make out any of his features.
She let out a hushed whimper, backing away until she felt herself pressed against the side of her mattress. She stared at the man as he slowly got down from his crouching position, and found his footing on her carpet. She took in a breath through her nose, eyes wide.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay." He assured, beginning to step towards her. She resisted the urge to climb over her bed and bolt to her dad's room, finding herself glued to her spot. The closer he got, the better she could make out his shape, and hear his voice.
He was short – at least, shorter than she had expected. He couldn't have been taller than her height – if anything, he was shorter. His voice was fairly high, but still distinctly male. He couldn't have been older than fifteen.
"I'm a good guy! I'm a good guy, I promise. It's me! Robin! Y'know, Batman and Robin? Dynamic Duo? Saved a bunch of girls earlier? That Robin?"
As he approached further, she could make out the details of the Robin costume she's seen on the news so many times. The domino mask, the 'R' stitched on his chest, the yellow utility belt – all of it.
"Wha-why are you here?" She breathed, her eyes filled with both disbelief and wonder.
"I-well, I wanted to talk to you." Robin admitted reluctantly. He rubbed at the nape of his neck, seemingly nervous, and the action couldn't help but feel familiar.
"Me? Why do you want to talk to me?" She questioned, brows furrowed. It's not like she could give him any information.
"I've heard a lot about you." He smiled. "Your dad really does speak highly of you."
"My dad talks about me? To you!?" She sputtered, embarrassed. It really was her dad's mission in life to ruin hers, wasn't it?
"Well, uh, to Batman, yeah. Listen, I'm really not supposed to be here right now-"
He was cut off by a rustling coming from the living room, and both of their eyes shot straight to her door. She cursed inwardly – her dad must have heard them.
His eyes went wide behind his mask, and he became visibly frantic. "Okay, Barbara, I just really needed to tell you that...sometimes things don't work out. No matter how much you want them to, and that it's nobody's fault. And that…the people you surround yourself with, they really care about you. You mean everything to them, even if it's hard to show sometimes. Please don't give up on them."
Before she could ask what he was on about, her bedroom door was flung open. The wood smacked against the wall behind it nosily, extenuating her father's panicked face perfectly as he stood in her doorway.
"Whoever's in here, I have a gun!" He barked, eyes wild as he swept the room for the intruder.
Robin's arms shot up in surrender hurriedly, and he quickly made it to where her dad could see him. "Commissioner!" He exclaimed, grinning.
"Robin?" He questioned, the surprise evident on his face. His expression quickly turned suspicious, and his eyes danced between Robin and herself. "What are you doing in my daughter's bedroom?"
Robin smiled uneasily, obviously uncomfortable at the implications. "I was looking for you, commissioner."
Her dad's eyebrows raised in disbelief.
"Bats sent me to report to you on the case – he got caught up in the cave. I was trying to get into the living room – I guess I read the blueprints wrong." He said, sheepish.
"Oh, okay." Her dad's tense shoulders visibly relaxed. "Come on then, boy." His eyes shot to her quickly, before returning to Robin. "We can talk in my office."
Her dad called out a quick "Goodnight, Barb!" from over his shoulder, and Robin followed him out the door. As he left, she heard a "Nice talking to you, Babs!" muffled by the growing distance.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in confusion. Babs?
