*Present Day*
My head was pounding as I opened my eyes to the ceiling of a guest room at Wayne Manor. After we stopped things from escalating in the kitchen after the gala, we sat on the roof, where we indulged in a couple more hours of talking and drinking. I pushed up a sleeve of the oversized button-down shirt I was wearing and propped myself up on my elbow to look over at Bruce. He was staring at the ceiling. "You look pissed off," I commented.
Bruce's gaze sleepily met mine, his blue eyes lit up by the sun barely shining into the room. "Nah, just trying to remember what happened." We stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before he looked away. "I'm sorry… again," he whispered.
"Huh? For what?"
"For letting this happen with the state that we were in and the circumstances..."
"Nothing happened."
Bruce's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then softened as he remembered. He mumbled, "Guess I drank more than I thought."
"Me too," I admitted, laying back down. "Well, we're sober now. Maybe tonight..." my voice trailed off, assuming he'd know what I was asking.
"No, Barbara. We can't." He looked at me somberly. "It's more than just about us being drunk. I never want to be someone you can't trust, and your trust is… fragile right now."
I paused and then said, "Selina broke your trust too, you know."
His face fell as he shook his head and whispered, "Not to the same extent and not in the same way."
Confused, I shrugged and laid back down. I suddenly remembered why he stopped things. I watched as a glass sphere from my unconscious mind, filled with memories of Ricky, rose to the surface and shattered, quickly and sharply shredding my current mental state. My breath got caught in my lungs, snapping me back to the present. All of the air seemed to be gone from the room. I desperately held onto my breath, worried that if I let it go, I wouldn't be able to get it back. Eventually, I couldn't hold it anymore. My exhale cut through silence in the room like a knife. With difficulty, I inhaled slowly and held my breath again, feeling my eyes prickle as tears formed. I turned away from Bruce when I realized he was looking at me, face painted with concern.
"Do you want to talk?"
I shook my head slowly, saying nothing.
"I'm going to give you some space and go see if Tim found any information on our case." His hand softly brushed my shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything. Okay?"
I nodded, still staring at the ceiling, watching in my peripheral vision as Bruce left the room, his words echoing in my head - 'Not in the same way.' More memories flooded my mind, burying me under their weight, like I was under 20ft of water at night, unsure which way to swim to get to the surface. How many other memories had I blocked? Were these ones even real? Was I overreacting?
*Last night*
Warmth spread into my cheeks and down the rest of my body as Barbara's lips continued to make contact with mine. My thoughts raced in and out of my fuzzy conscious mind. I tried to hang onto them, but when one thought arose, it'd be gone in an instant: How did we get here? God, I love her… what? Damn, I'm too drunk. Which room are we in? Why am I letting myself get caught up in this? Dick would try to murder me if he knew. How did we get here again? I felt my heart flutter as I became aware of the gentle touch of her hand on the back of my neck. She tugged at my shirt with her other hand, silently telling me to take it off. When it dropped to the floor, so did her dress.
Gently, I grabbed her face and kissed her again, feeling a small smile on her face, stroking her warm, soft cheeks with my thumbs. They slid from her cheeks, tracing down her neck on the way to her collarbone when she gasped suddenly. Lightheaded and confused, I pulled away, as it did not sound like a gasp of pleasure. Her face came into focus as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I tilted my head, trying to understand. Did I do something…? My face fell and my stomach lurched when I saw her eyes and realized she held the same expression I had seen in other victims of abuse… I had triggered a bad memory. Her glossy eyes met mine, looking lost, confused, hurt, and afraid... but only for a second. Her face fell blank again. I knew her well enough to know her defense mechanisms. The less emotion she showed, the more pain she felt.
I opened my mouth to say something, then I blinked, surprised, as she had thrown herself into me, continuing to press her lips on mine. Room spinning, I stumbled backwards, pulling away again. "Babs, no… we don't have to do this..."
She gave a fake chuckle. "Did you just call me Babs? Are you drunker than I am?"
"Very. We really should stop."
"I know, I know. It'll make things weird between us and everyone else if they somehow found out, but who cares at this point?"
"No, it's not tha-"
"Then, what? It's happened before. What's different this time?"
I looked at her until she knew that I knew what happened.
"I'm fine. I'm comfortable. It's all good," she said flatly, face still blank, gaze down.
Room spinning, I waited a few moments, holding her arm delicately as she looked at me, trying to get a read on her as silence filled the room. I wasn't sure exactly what her flashback contained or how many flashbacks there were, but I knew that whatever Ricky did, she didn't fully consent to it. My concern grew, and cautiously, I replied, "Comfort in familiar discomfort doesn't count."
Slowly, her face began to express the pain within. She took a step back from me, bringing her arms close to her body, holding them, and looked up at me… broken. I quickly grabbed my shirt on the floor and slipped it over her head. As she pushed her arms through my shirt, I wrapped my arms around her. She buried her face in my chest and began to cry, apologizing profusely. I tightened my embrace, attempting to shield her from the threat... keep her from feeling pain. Then, my heart broke as my drunk mind caught up to the fact of how useless that was, as this threat… this pain... was not external anymore, and there was nothing I could do about it.
