So, this is probably not the character everybody wanted, but there is an order to who will appear because of the way that Dick's facing this, and I've been wanting to write Babs in this series for a while (I may or may not have a few WIPs sitting around about Dick, Tim, and Babs.
Dick's day—his whole last year, really—had been really crappy. Honestly, he'd give anything just to be able to curl up with someone he loved and pretend that the world wasn't spinning. Just for a day or two.
Of course, it was never that easy. Alfred and Bruce were out of town on an actual business trip, and Tim was on an extended mission with M'gann, Conner, Cassie, and Jaime, so he had the house completely to himself. Just Dick and some carved pumpkins, just days before Halloween.
He hated it. It felt too much like the emptiness was trying to swallow him whole. He wanted out, but he had absolutely no idea who he could call and ask to come keep him company.
Okay, so that was a lie. Dick had a whole list of people he could call, but none that he thought would be willing to come over to his house and make him feel safe from his own head and the weight still somehow dripping off his shoulders—which. That didn't make any sense. He wasn't Batman anymore, he wasn't leading the Team anymore, he barely patrolled anymore, his best friend wasn't dead anymore. There shouldn't have been anything that was messing with him anymore.
But he still felt it. Like a phantom, he could still feel the way the cape sat on his shoulders, the way he could hardly move during patrols because of the drag, the way the world seemed so dark and bleak and terrifying when everything was on him.
So an empty house was the last thing Dick needed, and yet, he got it anyways.
He didn't want to be alone, and he had no one he could really call and trust they'd pick up and drop everything. Not anymore, but the creepy jack-o-lantern that Clark had carved the day before sat on the window sill, staring at him and Dick came to the conclusion that he had to at least try, if not to just get out of his own head for more than moment.
are you busy?
He shot off the text quickly before he could chicken out, and ended up pacing the foyer, tossing his phone between his hands nervously. It took almost five minutes before his phone chimed cheerfully, and Dick was almost too scared to check it.
Almost. He unlocked the phone and looked at the message.
Kinda. Why? Emergency?
Dick swallowed and typed, albeit a bit shakily, no emergency
Maybe it had been a bad idea. Maybe he should have just let it go. An empty house probably wasn't going to kill him any time soon, and he didn't want to interrupt anything, even if his chest was just a little bit too tight, and he couldn't seem to think straight.
It was a mistake to send that text.
His phone chimed almost immediately, though, and Dick couldn't not look at it.
I see. Just want someone to chat with then?
something like that
Should have just said something. Want me to come over?
i thought you said you were busy
It's just hw. I'll be over in a sec.
Dick snorted, his smile sad at the edges. So maybe not as much of a mistake as he had first thought. God, he couldn't believe how messed up his head space was to think he'd be rejected just for trying to text his friend. He was glad that he wouldn't have to be alone, if only because there would be someone to tell him how much of an idiot he was being.
Despite the words, Dick knew he wouldn't have any company for at least another ten to twenty minutes, so he got to work in the kitchen, flipped on all of the lights, prepped the oven, started mixing. Just for something to do, to keep him busy, and when the door opened, Dick had just slid a batch of cookies into the oven.
"Hey, good lookin'," Barbara teased as she walked into the kitchen, laughing as she swiped some dough from his cheek. "I thought Alfred banned you and Tim from making cookies after the Great Pancookie Incident of 2015."
Dick smiled, but he didn't laugh. Barbara didn't seem to mind, though. Instead she just got to cleaning up the mess Dick had made making the dough, and Dick scrambled to help.
It wasn't that he didn't think she was funny. She was. She was bright and sunny and everything about her made something in Dick just melt. But he couldn't. There was still that tight feeling in his chest that wouldn't go away, and he didn't know how to make it go away. He had thought that maybe Barbara could make it go away, where Bruce and Wally and Tim and Alfred had all failed, but it wasn't working.
Barbara cleared her throat, and Dick looked up, blinking. He'd been staring at the floor, lost in thought, and Barbara had that small knowing smile on her face that said she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"I'm sensing that this is more than just you wanting to chat," Barbara said, taking his hand and just holding it, grounding him. "Wanna talk about it?"
Dick opened his mouth, maybe to say yes, or no, or I don't know, or I think I'm going insane because I should be okay but I'm really really not, but what came out of his mouth was nothing more than a choked-up sob.
Nothing had triggered, just his own stupid brain, but suddenly Barbara was pulling him closer, guiding his head down to her shoulder, and he was crying on one of his best friends about absolutely nothing but being left alone, and it was so maddening. He felt like he was going insane.
"I'm sorry," he said after a while, once the tears had stopped. He didn't move, but she didn't seem to move. "I don't know why I did that."
Barbara sighed. "You know, for a smart person, you're really dumb, you know that?" Like usual, she didn't give Dick time to scramble for an answer to that before she was talking again. "You were alone, after a lot of time leaning on Tim and Alfred and Bruce, and it's normal to not feel okay so soon. That's fine, so don't apologize, okay?"
"Babs," he said, his voice sort of scratchy, but still relieved and sort of awed, because, "how did you know?"
He could almost hear her eyes roll. "Despite what you like to think, I do know you, Dick. I know that being alone and taking up every responsibility that came your way was your normal up until Bruce came back, and I know that you got used to everyone taking care of you these past few weeks. And with everyone gone, you're lonely again. It's hard."
They took a moment, just basking in each other's presence before Barbara pulled away and smiled at him, her fingers lingering on his arms, and Dick tried his best to smile back at her. Because she was here, and it was like she's inside his head, and even though he still felt off-balance.
She pulled the thoughts he couldn't make sense of from his head and turned them into words he could try to make sense of.
"Dick," she said, pulling him back to her. She slid a hand over his cheek, her thumb gently rubbing underneath his eye. "I'm glad you called me. If you ever feel alone, just let me know, and I'll be over as soon as I can, okay?"
"Okay," Dick said, and he smiled.
It was later, after the slightly burned cookies—he forgot to set a timer—were taken out of the oven, that Dick found himself sprawled out on the couch, his head in Barbara's lap, her fingers carding through his hair.
"I used to have a lot of friends," Dick said after almost ten minutes of comfortable silence. Barbara's hand stilled, but she didn't say anything, so Dick forged ahead. "Back before—before. I had a lot of people I could rely on, right?"
"I would say so," Barbara said, but she sounded cautious, like she wasn't sure where this was heading. Well, neither did Dick, so they had something common there.
"Okay, so you said that I'm feeling alone, and you're right," Dick told her, keeping his eyes on the wall. It was easier with his head in her lap. No chance of accidentally looking into those intense eyes. No chance of her extracting every bit of truth from him, whether he wanted it or not. "I don't want to feel like that anymore, but I also know it's not going to just change overnight."
"Get to the point," Barbara said gently, her fingers starting up again.
"I have something I want to run past you. Something I came up with while I was talking with Tim the other day, and I need your help. Tim's, too, but he already knows what I have in mind. Will you hear me out?"
"Of course I will." There was a smile in her voice, and Dick felt himself relaxing into her touch. "Did you think I wouldn't?"
No. He didn't, and the problem was he'd braced himself for rejection anyways. Still Dick didn't answer the question. Instead, he sat up, looked her right in the eyes, and told her exactly what he'd been thinking about the past three days.
The whole time, she never looked anything less than supportive, and Dick was glad she was always just a phone call away.
Barbara Gordon turned his crappy day into something less than awful, and honestly? Dick couldn't have asked for more.
So the Great Pancookie Incident is something that happened to me and my sister when I was about ten years old and sucked at following recipes. Long story short, we ended up with cookies that looked more like chocolate cookies than chocolate chip cookies.
Also, on this chapter. I love Dick and Kory together, but I've always, always loved the relationship that Dick and Babs have. It's something special, even when they aren't dating-which they aren't, not in this series, at least. Everything in Tact will be platonic friend/family relationships.