Title: My Richard. Part five

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick and Laura break up

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Thanks again, Jim.

My Richard

Part Five

Laura was released late Saturday afternoon. She was picked up by her parents and sent away with tranquilizers and antidepressants and sleeping pills (all carefully regulated), and strict orders that she must keep her twice-a-week appointment with her therapist or she would endanger her recovery. Her parents promised that she would attend. She remained out of school for an additional two weeks.

Though there had been some rumors at the high school about what had happened, no one officially said anything other than that she wasn't feeling well, and so the rumors died as soon as something else happened to take it's place in the gossip mill. Dick, however, didn't miss the looks and whispers in the halls or the cafeteria, and especially in the locker room. Jim Harrison had the balls to come up and ask him if it was true that Laura was out because she was having an abortion and it had gone wrong somehow. Dick's response was a less than articulate, 'Fuck off'.

Laura had been hospitalized on a Tuesday; she began calling Dick the next day. He'd spoken to her a couple of times, but after that he'd let the machine pick up for him. He just plain didn't want to talk to her.

When Dick got home from school Wednesday there were thirty-seven messages on his answering machine when he'd checked after his usual workout. On Thursday there were forty-two and on Friday there were sixty-three. Most of the messages were short, asking him to call her, telling him that she missed him, wondering what he was doing. Those were the first third or so, the second third were accusing him of screwing around with anything that moved, of avoiding her and their baby. She would scream and rant—insisting he wanted her to vanish and take their son with her so he wouldn't have to deal with anything that would upset his sugar daddy. The last third of the messages would be tearful, contrite, begging him to call her, talk to her, please let her know that he still loved her.

When Dick unplugged his phone the hand-written messages and deliveries began. There were flowers, candy, and balloons. There were dozens of notes and cards on Thursday and Friday, all hand delivered by messenger. Even Dick wondered how much this was all costing and where she was getting the money or the credit card. She had lunch delivered to him at school. Knowing that his schedule was too full for him to eat lunch on Thursdays, she'd had pizza delivered for him to the office. It was pepperoni with extra cheese, his favorite and there was enough for him to hand it out to a few friends. A couple of them wanted to know how they could get a deal like that and Dick just gave a half smile.

He didn't tell anyone at home about the calls or the pizza. Alfred knew about the letters and the presents, but would never say anything. Well, not unless things became really dire. Bruce asked one night as they sat down to dinner if he was alright and Dick's "Fine" was taken at face value. The question wasn't repeated though Bruce privately thought that Dick was looking a little tense. Of course he knew that Laura still had problems, but somehow had clumped them into the category of 'kid stuff', something that would blow over and was probably just a case of teenaged hysterics. God knew that even Dick had his drama queen moments—all those years of living in show business, no doubt. He always got over them sooner or later, Laura would, too. Besides, there was no real way for Bruce know it was really about Laura. Dick had schoolwork to deal with, he was leading the Titan's—the boy had a lot on his plate, enough to stress anyone.

The letters that arrived for Dick were all written on what he would later learn was Laura's personal stationary, stuff that her grandparents ordered for her every year at Christmas as a way to encourage her to write to them and keep up with her thank you notes. It was pale pink top quality linen paper, embossed with her name and came with matching envelopes.

Though he had no way of knowing it then, they would continue for years. And he would come to dread them.

She got home Saturday; he went to see her—with her parents' permission—on Sunday after lunch.

He was welcomed by Lynn Woodward and shown into the living room. Laura looked as normal as she would at any other time. She was wearing her usual jeans and a sweater, her hair was loose. She had slippers on. The only thing different about her was that she seemed a little paler than she usually did and was more nervous, almost like she was anticipating that he'd yell at her or something.

Well, truth be told, Dick wasn't feeling all that calm himself.

He wasn't sure what to say and felt awkward as she came forward to put her arms around him and kiss his cheek. His arms came up around her automatically and he was relieved to realize that she felt the same as ever. Somehow something should have been different after what had happened, but she still came up to his nose, his arms still went around her the same amount they always did.

It seemed like nothing had really changed.

"I'm so sorry. I really am. I was stupid and you should be completely angry with me." She hugged him tighter. "I guess I went a little crazy there for a while, huh?"

"It's alright, I guess everyone gets a little nuts sometimes." Well, maybe that wasn't the most tactful thing to say. "I mean, you're felling better now? You're alright?"

She nodded and kissed him again. "I'm fine. They just want me to stay home for a little while to, well, you know, settle down a little." She pushed him gently over to the couch, they both sat. "Did I miss anything in school?"

Whatever Dick was expecting, this wasn't it. She seemed so—normal, like she was just getting over a cold or something. No mention about the phone calls, nothing about the flowers or the balloons or anything. And nothing about her thinking that they'd done 'it' and that she was pregnant. Nothing.

"School's the same, people are wondering where you are."

"What did you tell them?"

"Just that you didn't feel well, that's all."

"What about the homework, did you get all the notes and stuff? I'm like a week behind and it's going to be a bitch to catch up—you know how Mr. Breslin is about things being on time."

"It should be alright, I mean, it's not like you were faking or anything."

She looked through a pile of tapes. There were all kinds of things there; Ghost, Jurassic Park, Pretty Woman, Sleepless in Seattle, Sister Act. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

He didn't care; he just wanted to see if she was really over whatever her problem was. "Sure, you pick."

She put Sleepless in Seattle in the VCR and snuggled back against him on the couch, pulling his arm around her shoulder and holding his hand. If anyone looked, they'd have seen the perfect picture of a teen couple having a quiet afternoon together.

When Lynn went in to ask if they wanted anything, she almost managed to convince herself that everything was alright. Laura looked happy, Richard seemed relaxed and the movie was a romantic fantasy, all the more proof that the boy really did care about her daughter. Otherwise why on earth would he agree to sit through that tripe on the screen?

She brought in a tray with a bowl of popcorn and a couple of glasses of cider, happy to see that things seemed to be going well.

The movie stretched endlessly as far as Dick was concerned. God, who were these neurotic idiots? They seriously needed to get lives. The movie was stupid.

Laura seemed to pick up on his boredom. She was playing with his hand, rubbing the fingers and squeezing. "You're hands are so callused."

"Gymnastics."

"I thought gymnasts used those things on their hands, those glove things."

"Grips? I don't use them. It's better to be able to feel the bars."

"Oh." She was rubbing his hands and fingers suggestively, squirming her body against his. Her free hand was in his lap, working his inner thigh. It wasn't subtle.

"Laura."

"What?"

"Cut it out."

"Cut what out?"

"It's broad daylight, your parents are around and you just got home yesterday. Watch the movie."

"Didn't you miss me?"

Not really. Besides, she'd called about a thousand times. "It was only a few days."

"But—weren't you worried about me?"

"Well, sure, but you're okay. I mean, we're sitting here. It's not like I didn't see you for years or anything." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dick knew it was the wrong thing to say. Laura's answer was a series of silent sobs against his chest, her arms around his waist. "God, Laura, I'm sorry. Of course I missed you. You know I did, it's just that your mother or someone could walk in any minute and then it would be a mess, okay?" She was regaining her composure, a little. "Besides, if they walked in on us they'd probably make me go home, right?"

She nodded against him, placated for the moment and returning to Meg and Tom.

"So do you think we should get married?"

Well...no. "Excuse me?"

"Because of the baby, you know. I'm not that far along, but we have to think about what we're going to do. Does Bruce know?"

Jesus. And it seemed like it was going pretty well, too. "The doctors said you're not pregnant. They said they even repeated the test and it came out negative both times."

"They're stupid and they're wrong. I got pregnant that night in the pool."

"No, you didn't, not by me, anyway."

She leaned away from him, staring at him in disbelief. "You mean you're not going to help me and the baby? Your own son? Richard?"

"We never did it. We came close a couple of times, but that's all."

She sat away from him, her hands off him and curled in her lap, her head slowly shaking back and forth. "You said you loved me, you promised you'd take care of me."

No, he didn't. "Look, Laura, this never happened and this is too weird for me, okay? I think I should be going now." He had his moped with him; he could go whenever he wanted.

Her voice was calm, as if this was what she had been expecting all along. "You're walking out on us both?" She was still staring at him, seemingly unseeing. She continued as if talking to herself. "Fine. I'll be alright. I don't need you; neither of us do. I'll take care of the baby myself. You'll see, I will. I don't need anyone to help. I'll do it all myself. We'll be just fine. You go see your other girlfriend, that slut in the bikini. I know you'd rather be with her. I saw you two together. I did, you were both just waiting for me to leave so you could go off with together. I saw you. I heard you laughing about me, all of you were laughing. I heard you all. Well, you can all go to hell. All of you just go to hell. I don't need any of you..."

It went on as he got up and went to the door. Lynn Woodward was standing there, listening to the whole thing. She was stoic about what was happening, though the look on her face reminded Dick of the look he'd seen at funerals when someone had died. In a way, Laura maybe had—or was.

"Mrs. Woodward? I don't think I should come back here, alright? At least not for a while."

Her expression was understanding, sad. "Of course, honey. You know, we all know, this has nothing to do with you."

Of course it did, but he wasn't about to argue with her. "If there's anything I can do, or Bruce—let us know, alright? I'll call to see how she is in a few days."

Lynn kissed his cheek as he left.

Four days later Dick made the promised call only to learn that the number had been disconnected. A quick check showed no new number, listed or otherwise, was available. Another check told him that John Woodward had resigned his position with Wayne Corp, effective immediately, the Monday after he'd visited Laura. He found out that their house was for sale, the contents gone and the place completely empty.

The family had left with no forwarding address.

He was tempted to track them down, but decided against it. There was no point, nothing to really be gained. If he needed to at some point, he could. He hoped, genuinely hoped, that Laura would get better.

He doubted it, though.

His life settled back down to its old patterns; school, homework, training, patrolling, the Titans then it would start all over again the next day. It was what he knew and he slowly put the unpleasantness behind him.

A year later the letters began.

TBC

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