A knock echoes in Dick's room. He makes his way to the door, finding a familiar figure on the other side. The solemn expression on her face worries him.
"Gal? Is everything okay? Are you still feeling alright?"
"Ah, I hope I didn't wake you. I just, I can't fall asleep."
Her eyes dart down to the ground and she hangs her head in embarrassment.
"Oh, is that all? Do you want to come in?"
She looks back up at him with hopeful eyes.
"Can I?"
Her honest expression of emotion makes him smile, and he's more than happy to help her cheer up after the ordeal they just went through together. He moves out of the way and gestures for her to enter the room.
"Sure, come on in."
Galatea lets out a relieved sigh and moves to sit at the edge of his bed. Dick closes his door behind them and follows her in, taking a seat next to her on the bed.
"Thanks, Dick. I'm sorry to bother you."
"At least you remembered to knock this time," he teases.
She looks back at him with a look of guilty surprise and then sighs.
"I really am never going to live that down, am I?"
"No, but it's alright, I'm still awake and clothed. What's on your mind?"
"I,well, I've been thinking... I realize that I cannot rely on your hospitality forever and now that I am feeling better I have been contemplating what to do next. I don't want to be any more of a burden on you two than I already have been, but I'm not exactly sure where to go either."
She trails off at the end of her sentence, her voice taking on an edge of sadness.
"Is that what was keeping you up?"
Her shoulders tense up and she looks further down, nodding her head in agreement. It is obvious to him that this is bothering her a great deal.
"Alright then, I'll bite. What makes you think you're a burden?"
She looks up at him, a little surprised, revealing watery eyes heavy with grief.
"I showed up on your doorstep unannounced, took advantage of your hospitality, unearthed your greatest secrets, and have given nothing in return. What else would I be?"
"A person who needed help and," he pauses for a brief moment, "my friend, remember? And how could you say you've given nothing back? You literally saved my life, like three days ago."
Her wide eyes blink reflexively in the wake of his question. Then she nervously chews on her lower lip and looks away from him.
"That wasn't- that's not-you saved me first," she huffs. "That's kind of my point, honestly. You've done so much for me and I feel like I'm struggling to keep up. I want to be the kind of friend you can rely on if you need help too, not the kind of person that only takes."
"And I don't want to be the kind of friend that's keeping score either. Friends should do things for each other because they care about one another, not because one person owes the other."
"That," she pauses for a moment, "sounds really nice, actually. I've never really had a friend like that before." I've never really had a friend, at all, actually. She looks back at him, eyes wavering before darting away from him again. "But, still I don't want to be dependent on you. I worry I've grown too used to leaning on you all already, and that makes me nervous. It makes me feel weak, like I can't stand on my own two feet. I feel…vulnerable."
"And what's so wrong with that?"
Her head jerks upwards, her wide eyes and high brows displaying the surprise on her face. What? She bites her lower lip again and then looks at her hands in her lap. What do you mean? Vulnerability is dangerous; trust is dangerous. It opens you up to betrayal, and in my experience that can spell certain death. But, how do I tell him that? How do I admit that out loud?
"I-I don't know. The way you say that makes me feel like I should think there isn't anything wrong with it."
"I'm not sure what you've gone through to make you think like that, but that's called trust, Gal. Everyone needs help sometimes. It's okay to lean on other people when you need to, that's just part of being human."
"Is it?"
Being human, huh? But I'm not human, that's the problem; that's always been the problem. If I stay, you're going to find out what I really am, a monster.
Stray. Worthless. Freak. Cursed.
Classifications she's been given by others echo in her mind.
Could you still smile at me the way you do now if you knew what I really am? If you knew the truth about my past…
"Gal, do you not trust me?"
He interrupts her internal turmoil with a challenging question. She jumps a little and then looks back at him with an expression that is a mixture of alarm and sadness. It's as though his question makes her face her internal conflict head-on, barreling her into it with nowhere to hide. Do I trust you? Do I really think you'd hurt me? No…I don't want to believe you ever would but the truth is you never really know. That's why…that's why it's better not to make exceptions. If you expect everyone to betray you, then they can't disappoint you. But, do those same rules apply to you, Dick?
She wants to tell him she does, to quell the anxiety in his expression. Everything in her wants to trust him but something is holding her back. The quiet, fearful voice of her six-year-old self cautions her from somewhere deep inside her. He's only going to betray you. Eventually, everyone does.
His eyes search hers for an answer, the hurt and expectant look in them clawing at her heart.
Why does it hurt so much to look at him? Why can't I just answer his question? I should…I have to be honest with him.
"It's not that, Dick, I'm afraid."
"Of me?"
"No!" She shouts a little too loudly, before starting more quietly. "No, not at all. I'm afraid…to admit the truth. I'm afraid that once I say it out loud, there is no taking it back. Once I say it, you'll convince me to stay but if I stay eventually I'll hurt you, or you'll hurt me. That's just how it always is. And I don't want that; I don't want to hurt you."
"So you don't trust me."
"I'm afraid of what will happen if I do. There is so much you still don't know about me, so much that I don't know about you. What if I let you in and find out you are someone I shouldn't have trusted? What if, when you find out more of my secrets, learn more about my past and what I've done, you decide you want nothing to do with me? Once that door opens it can't be simply closed again. So many people in my life have betrayed me, I've come to expect that from everyone.
Despite all that here, with you, I feel like I can be myself for the first time in my life. I feel like if there was ever a time to put my faith in someone I barely know, it's now. I don't really know what to do with that; it's not something I have experience with. And…I don't want to mess it up, or get hurt, or hurt you. That's why I think I should leave."
"So you do trust me then."
"Dick! Were you even listening?"
He lets out an airy chuckle, despite the weight of her admission.
"I was, don't get mad! You had me worried there for a moment, but I'm glad."
"You are?"
"Yeah, what you just described sure sounds a lot like trust to me. Knowing you feel comfortable enough to be honest with me, and trust me enough to be yourself around me makes me happy."
The warm, gentle smile that blossoms on his face feels like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day to her. The grip around Galatea's heart feels as though it is melting, like ice in the heat of his smile. A quiet moment passes between them before Dick speaks up again.
"Gal, I don't want you to leave." He says resolutely. "Do you want to leave?"
His question takes her by surprise, feeling a rush of warmth at his words that makes her feel guilty all at once. She looks back at him once more; his brow is knitted together in a pained expression, showing his worry for her answer.
Do I want to leave? Does that even matter? I know that I should, but that doesn't necessarily mean I want to.
She thinks back on all the warm moments she experienced while in this home, all the reasons she wants to stay. That warm smile from a moment ago sits at the forefront of her reasoning. Then her brain catches up, processing his words, and she realizes what it is he just told her.
"I- did you say- wait-" She pauses after nervously stammering her words out. "You…want me to stay?" Dick quietly nods. "I- well- to answer your question, no. The truth is, I don't want to leave, but-"
"Then it's settled: you should stay. I'll talk to Bruce about it tomorrow, so don't worry about it."
Galatea's eyes widened even further in surprise. She shakes her head in disagreement before speaking again.
"Wait, that's not what I was saying! I knew this would happen if I was honest with you. I couldn't ask you to do that; you've already done so much for me. Weren't you listening to my reasons before?"
"I did, I just think they're bogus."
Bogus?
"If you want to stay, then stay. You saved my life; we're not about to turn you out onto the streets. Will you at least let me do this for you to say thank you?"
Her head spins trying to keep up with him. She nervously waves her hands in front of her face and stammers out a response.
"No, I didn't mean to-what I mean to say is-I didn't do that to make you indebted to me. I just…wanted to. If anything, I was fulfilling the debt I owed to you."
"Bruce told me you risked your life to do it, though. You didn't have to go that far for a simple debt."
"I-yeah, that is true. But-I-"
"But nothing! Give yourself some credit, will ya?"
His insistent praise of her makes her flustered, feeling undeserved in her mind.
"You saved my life, and so I didn't even give it a second thought when it came to using it to save yours. Honestly, Dick, I've never put much value on my own life. I've always felt it belonged to someone else; that's just how it's always been for me. "
"That's such a sad thought. How could you not value your own life? Everyone's life has value. What kind of life have you lived to make you think that yours doesn't?"
Reflexively, she pulls her knees up into her chest to hide behind them. He keeps challenging her logic, and it's making her feel confused and a little ashamed. His words are making sense, but they are in conflict with what she thought to be true. Logically, she understands what he is saying but her life has taught her otherwise, and she's not sure what to do with that.
What kind of life have I lived? If only you knew. One of my first memories is the feeling of fear. Yelling, beating, and fear. I didn't know much outside of being owned by the man who bought me and the pain he'd inflict on me if I didn't do what he said. From the start, my life never belonged to me. How could I place a value on something I couldn't even hold as a child? But that's my burden to bear, not yours, and I don't want you to see that part of me.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. You're right, that was a foolish thing to say. I've said too much, I-I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm sorry."
Galatea is interrupted by the sudden warmth of an embrace. Her words overwhelm Dick with an indescribable sadness and his instinct is to try and comfort her, to hug her huddled body. His sudden action leaves her speechless, unsure of how to respond.
"Why are you apologizing?" Dick cries out to her through a wavering voice, heavy with sadness. "I'm not mad at you and you're not a fool. Hearing you say things like that makes me so sad. You're nothing but a burden? Relying on others makes you weak? And now you say you don't even value your own life? How can you say things like this so easily? Who's made you believe all of this? It's just too awful."
She sits quietly, confused by his emotional reaction to her sentiment. Is it? She feels badly for making him so upset, but her confusion is only intensified by it. This feeling is familiar to her; it is the second time in her life someone reacted like this to her saying this sort of thing. The first time was with Artemis, and it confused her just the same. The memory of that moment floods her mind.
"Why do you fight, Galatea?"
"Because you tell me to, Mother."
Artemis scowls a little at her response, clearly displeased with it.
"We fight to protect, Galatea."
"Like you protected me?"
"That's right."
"And now I belong to you, right?"
"Your life is your own now, Little Star. The commands of others no longer drive your life; from now on you must take command of yourself. You have to search out your own reasons for your actions and walk with your own feet."
A small Galatea looks back at her in confusion.
"So I'm not supposed to listen to you?"
Artemis lets out a frustrated sigh.
"No, Galatea, you should listen to me. When I tell you to do things it is because I believe them to be in your best interest, but eventually you are going to have to figure that out on your own. That's what it means to be free: to make your own decisions and choose your own path in life."
Despite all these years of growth, still when she tries to share her honest feelings with someone she upsets them. Dick is sad in the same way Artemis was angry with her in her past. Is my way of thinking so wrong? It's not that I think my life doesn't have value, it's just that I know I owe others for its existence. Why does everyone get so emotional about it? If it is mine to give, I should have the freedom to give it up for those I care about, shouldn't I? Unsure of exactly why her words have made him so upset, she still feels guilty for it.
"I'm sorry Dick, I didn't mean to upset you."
"Stop apologizing to me, dammit. It's not your fault, it just makes me sad that you could think that way. I want, no I need you to know that you do have value. You matter to me, Gal. I know a few words aren't going to change the way you think about it, but still I want you to know you matter to me. Whatever you think is in your past that could change that, is wrong. I know what kind of person you are, and that's what matters. You are someone who is warm and kind, someone honest and strong, someone that would sacrifice themselves without question for someone they care for. So please, don't say you're a burden or that you don't matter."
Stunned in the wake of his compassion, Galatea's knees drop back down to the edge of the bed. What? She looks back at him with wide eyes as her brain catches up with his words. His sympathetic gaze falls on her, tightening around something in her chest. A sudden warmth streams down her cheek and she lifts her hand to touch it. The hot salt of tears burns its way down her face. Why am I crying?
"And, if you ever feel like saying things like that tell me; if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. I know it's not much, but I can promise I'll be there for you."
He wraps his arms around her again, tighter this time. His warmth seems to radiate throughout her body, warming a dark, cold corner of her heart she hadn't realized was there. Oh. Her tears start to rush forward, increasing in strength.
I think that maybe I always wanted to hear that. Maybe I've been waiting for someone to say that to me, and I didn't even realize it.
She reaches out her arms to return his hug but hesitates.
Is this…okay?
Dick tightens his grip on her when he feels her shift in his arms, unintentionally reassuring her. She finally wraps her arms around him and allows her tears to flow freely. The comforting feel of his arms around her breaks down the walls around her heart, letting a flood of emotions rush forth.
I never knew. All this time, I never knew.
Wordlessly, she sobs into his shoulder.
After some time Galatea's sobs slow down and her breathing becomes more even. After eluding her for all those hours, sleep finally finds her in Dick's embrace. Recognizing the sound of that even-paced breathing Dick asks,
"Gal, are you asleep?"
Her silence answers his question for her. Careful not to wake her he leans forward, laying her down on his bed. Gingerly, he slides the quilt at the edge of the bed from under her feet and then blankets her in its warmth. She stirs, but remains asleep. He tip-toes out of the room and softly closes the door behind him, hopeful that she can now sleep soundly. Now in the silence of the hallway, his mind runs through their conversation again.
"What kind of life have you lived, Gal? I can't even begin to imagine."
Remembering the sound of her sobbing, he looks down at his shirt, drenched in her tears. He decides it's best to remove it but quickly realizes the only other place with a change of clothes besides his room is the Batcave. He makes his way down there, cycling through their exchange distractedly. Then he remembers all of the things he said to her in the heat of the moment and blushes.
"I can't believe I said all of that to her. She probably thinks I'm a weirdo now."
Lost in his thoughts, Dick wanders past Alfred on his way down the stairs to the cave without noticing him. Alfred quietly watches him walk by in pensive concentration before speaking up.
"Who does, Master Dick?"
"Alfred! Sorry, I didn't even notice you there."
He follows in step behind Dick down the stairs.
"Yes, you seem quite distracted. Something to do with Miss Galatea, I presume?"
"Right as always, Alfred." Dick lets out an exasperated sigh. "She's asleep in my bed right now."
"Master Richard!"
"It's not like that, Alfred. She came to my room because she couldn't sleep. We talked for a bit and then she passed out."
Alfred casts a suspicious glance his way.
"One playboy is more than enough for this household, thank you."
"I can assure you, Alfred, that is enough for me too. All we did was talk and it was a serious conversation; she's trying to figure out what to do about leaving here."
"And at what point in your conversation did you think it appropriate to remove your shirt, Master Dick?"
"I," Dick looks down at his bare upper body and blushes, "I could see how you'd misinterpret that. Not until after she fell asleep. She was crying, Alfred, and my shirt got wet from her tears."
"Good heavens, about leaving?"
"Well, not exactly."
The two of them pass by Bruce, who is seated at the Batcomputer doing some research.
"Making women cry isn't a good look, Dick. Maybe I should give you some advice, sounds like you could use a pointer or two."
"Actually Bruce, I do need to talk to you."
"No need, she should stay. I was going to talk to her about it myself tomorrow, actually. She already knows our secret and she's shown she can be trusted. What, am I supposed to throw her out on the street after what she did for you?"
"Wait a minute, how did you- dammit Bruce, we've talked about this before. Did you bug my room?"
"I don't know what you're talking about Dick. I heard you and Alfred talking on your way down here."
"Uh-huh. And you just so happen to quote me back at me."
"You're being paranoid."
"Right. If I find a bug in my room, Bruce, you're going to regret it."
"I've got work to do, goodnight Dick."