Chapter Text
“So, lunch went well, I take it?” Dick asked as he helped her wash dishes after dinner. Normally she’d shoo him away and have one of the boys help instead, but Terry had left before mealtime to hang out with his friends then head straight to work and Matt had homework so she’d caved. Begrudgingly. It was still too new of a relationship to ask him to do absolutely everything, and it had always made her antsy when people caught her spaces in a state of disarray. Not that he was making a big deal out of it or anything, she was just “As neurotic about cleaning as appa is about closing cabinet doors” according to her ever-eloquent eldest. This past year or so she’d felt even more neurotic about it than usual.
“Yeah, really well. I got Terry to actually open up to me in a way he hasn’t since… I think since Warren’s passing,” she said, hand itching to wipe a spot Dick had missed on the plate he was lathering.
“That long? I thought he talked to you more. At least, that’s the impression I got from watching you. He seems very secure in his relationship with his mom for someone his age.”
“Oh, trust me, that wasn’t always the case. Our current relationship took a lot of work. Actually, a major reason he went to live with his appa was because of how much we fought. Neither of us were good with reigning things in, shouting matches would get out of hand and Warren was always the mediator so it just seemed like the smart thing to do. Especially back then.” She scrubbed a burnt piece of food at the bottom of the pot she was cleaning to wipe away the bitter recollections. “But, to answer your question, he does talk to me nowadays. Just, you know, about more trivial things like friends and school, not his thoughts on my love life.”
Dick snorted as he laid his plate on the drying rack. It was tilted the wrong way. This time she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to correct it.
“That’s fair,” he picked up the next plate without pause. A knot of worry in her chest untangled. “I never wanted to know anything about my various parent’s love lives, and my little brother definitely didn’t want to know anything about mine. I know that’s not exactly the same, but still,” he shrugged, then he broke out into a sparkling grin and turned to her saying, “Hey, do you wanna know what Matt said to me today?”
She smiled back. The dishes really weren’t a big deal to him.
“What did he say?”
At her prompting, his smile somehow grew even sparklier. He thought it was silly that she described them like that, but she couldn’t think of a more accurate word and he hadn’t come up with any better suggestions– though not for lack of trying.
“He turned to me, completely out of the blue as we were watching Soldier Sam, and said I was his favorite babysitter! Can you believe that? Ahh it was so cute I was dying!” he cooed, clutching a soapy glove to his chest dramatically as he gave an account of just how Matt wrapped him around his finger enough to score a trip to Little Moo Moo’s earlier that day.
She couldn’t help but laugh, wondering why his words brought so much relief.
When he returned to the dishes he grabbed the wrong cleaning utensil. A rag. She faltered. Rags were for cleaning counters, not dishes. Everyone knew that. At least, everyone who had done dishes in this kitchen, even if the kids had needed reminders every now and again. The adults never had. The only other adult had been Warren. He used to come over occasionally to help with housework that they’d trade off when the other was tired, or stay with Matt when she wanted a night out. He hadn’t been here in over a year.
“Mary?” a voice brought her back to the present. Dick’s.
She smiled briefly. “Sorry, zoned out for a second there. What were you saying?”
“Nothing. You were just staring at the dishes instead of cleaning them. Looked like you had something on your mind.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” she said while resuming her scrubbing, but it must have been too quick because Dick’s sparkle had been traded out for a small frown.
“It’s not ‘fine’, you’re worried about something,” he spoke softly. “What is it–the boys again?”
She reached out, plucked the rag out of his hand and replaced it with the proper cleaning brush.
He tried to lay a hand over hers, but she pulled back to continue with the dishes.
Instead of pressing the issue he went back to cleaning.
She appreciated the break.
“Do you think it’s weird? The way I talk about him?” she asked slowly. Haltingly. Trying to both appease and defy the part of her mind that urged her not to speak at all.
He made a noise of question.
“Warren, I mean,” she’d forgotten to clarify again. He was probably annoyed now. “Because I know it looks messy. Especially from the outside. And depending on what time I’m talking about I’m sure it sounds completely different so I’m–I don’t know. You’ve heard my reminiscing. My friends think it’s kind of weird. Is it weird?”
He finished off another plate and placed it on the drying rack. The right way this time.
“I can see why people find it atypical,” he began, picking up a cup. “But I don’t think it’s weird –at least not in the sense where you’re using it as a substitute for bad.”
Right. She had been doing that, hadn’t she?
“I only know him from yours and the boys’ recollections, but, from what I hear it sounds like the two of you had a very healthy, mature thing going at the end. And I think that’s really admirable of you.”
The spot she was scrubbing was already clean, she suddenly noticed.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” he turned to her and his expression bled honesty. “You both decided that even though the divorce had been rough you still liked what you had before the marriage enough to put in the effort to gain that again. You were both dedicated to doing what was best for your kids, even when it was hard. You found a new way to be partners that wasn’t traditional–wasn’t romantic, I mean–but still meant you were navigating life together. The way you talk about him doesn’t sound weird. It sounds to me like you were best friends.”
The brush she was swirling about the pot over and over was doing nothing but push pristine soap bubbles around in circles. Dick’s hands reached out to bring hers to a stop. This time she let them. And then she was crying. Again. For the second time in a day. G-d her eyes were going to be sore tomorrow.
“It’s okay to miss him, Mary,” Dick said softly.
She sucked in a breath and forced it to stay there, resenting the urge to cry harder.
“He was important to you. I’m not upset with you for missing him. Never will be.”
Not that her body ever cooperated with what she wanted.
He had been important to her, was the thing. She’d just never realized how much until he was gone and had left this strange hole in her life that defied any definition she tried to give it. They had been casual friends once. She knew what that felt like. That hadn’t been it. They had been lovers once. She knew what that felt like. That hadn’t been it. They had been married, and enemies, and exes, but none of those dynamics had fit them at the end either. They’d known what they had was unconventional, but it had just… worked. So they hadn’t spoken of it. She’d figured they would later. She'd figured there would be a later. She’d figured wrong, and whatever weird partnership thing they’d had going on was broken because Warren was dead and had left her alone. Then there had been more important things to think about, like finding Terry or his body , arranging the funeral, sorting the assets, moving Terry into the apartment, taking on more hours at work, helping the boys process the loss of their father, helping Terry officially start his job, helping the boys with school, trying to get a promotion so that money wouldn’t be so tight, trying to keep an eye on the boys, and keep up with their social lives, and talk to them, and be with them, and occasionally managing to go on their weekend lunch dates together because they had just lost one parent and didn’t need to lose another to work and… then Dick had said ‘best friends’. And that was the closest any term had gotten to feeling right.
He was- they were- they had been something like best friends. She’d never thought to label it such but it was true. When they had finally stopped being so slagging angry with each other there had been no reason not to. They still had similar senses of humor. They still liked the same things. They still made the same dishes and knew each other’s favorite authors and could quote the other’s favorite rants. She had worried that things between them would become weird forever, but after a few months of living apart it had almost felt like they had returned to the beginning. Friends, but this time with two kids thrown into the mix.
That had definitely helped speed the reconciliation process up, all things considered. Even at the height of their personal relationship struggles, she had never once doubted that he would give his all for their children, and she knew he’d felt the same about her. They weren’t married anymore, but they were still a team. Co-parents with the same goal. Parenting style hadn’t even been one of the things they’d really fought about. It was easy to coordinate pick-up times and hangouts and the occasional family meal. There was an understanding that if one of them faltered the other would prop them up, fueled by their determination to provide a good life for their boys.
And then the only person in the world she could trust to love her children as much as she did was gone. And that hurt. But she couldn’t even focus on that because if she broke down then and there, there would be no one to pick up the slack. She’d been terrified to do it all on her own, but she didn’t have a choice. Because suddenly she was the only one who cared. If something happened to her they'd be all alone. No one to catch them. Nowhere to run to. Just endless levels of steel and concrete and people who didn’t give a slag.
Warren hadn’t been her love, not by then, but he had still been a good man. And her teammate. And her best friend –even though that term didn’t feel strong enough–that she’d been counting on. That she didn’t have anymore.
“Hey, could you take some deep breaths for me, dear? Mary? C’mon, you’re holding your breath again. You need to breathe,” Dick said, hands running up and down her arms in an attempt to ground her.
She squeezed out a lungful of air then forced another one in. She got a couple more through before words started bubbling up and spilling out no matter how tightly she tried to seal her lips.
“I can do it,” her voice rang out of its own accord. Stiff and warped in this kitchen that felt fuller than it should with only two people. “On my own. I’ve been… fine for months now. You don’t need to– I didn’t bring you here to replace him.”
Dry warmth met the cold wet of her cheeks. Dick’s eyes looked nothing like his had. The shape and color and lashes were all wrong. But there was still something so glaringly similar. She couldn’t name it. Or maybe she wouldn’t.
She whispered, “If annoying kids and grumpy teenagers aren’t your thing we don’t have to keep meeting here of all places. You can be ‘eomma’s boyfriend’ who shows up every other weekend to pick me up for a date. Leave it at that, if you want. This job is big. It’s not for everybody. What you’re doing now is already more than enough. I know I look like a wreck right now but I won’t be upset if you want to back off. Honest. You should be happy too.”
“Mary,” he chuckled, a little sparkle coming back through. “Babs was teasing me just earlier about ‘pulling a Bruce’ and treating the kids like my own without even realizing it. Terry was the one who introduced us, for G-d’s sake. I could see how important your kids were to you before we started dating. I won’t ask you to change that part or yourself for me–”
“And I won’t ask you to change that part or yourself for me.”
“–yes, but what I’m trying to say is that you wouldn’t be. Because I wouldn’t be changing anything. I haven’t. I’ve always been okay with this, I’m just in a position now where that’s obvious. I probably won’t be as good as Warren, he had a lot more practice than me, but I’d be happy to give it my best shot. He sounds like the kind of guy who’d want that for you. For all of you.”
That… would be different. Having Dick be a more permanent part of their lives. It had slowly been happening, yes, but to openly acknowledge it? Put a name to it? Embrace it? She wasn’t used to that, but… maybe it was time for a different approach. Long, curly salt and pepper hair where Warren’s had been short, straight black. A penchant for corny jokes where Warren had favored dry sarcasm. A love for sweets where Warren could only stand a spoonful of sugar at a time.
It would be different, but… maybe Warren would want her to accept the difference.
And maybe she’d been overthinking all of this too. Projecting her fears in places they had no right to be. Not really. Not when she’d known how much he cared about the kids in his tumbling classes, or people, or life in general before they'd gotten together.
“I guess–I mean–I suppose he would,” she admitted after a long moment. His answering smile settled something deep within her chest.
Alright then. She would try trusting him with them. The two halves of her heart that walked outside her body. She knew he’d do his best.
Dick was just that kind of guy.