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The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was her. Barbara Gordon. Though the stark room was only illuminated by the golden light that pooled through the open door from the hallway, he’d recognise her anywhere. She sat beside the bed, holding his hand. Her fingers were interlaced with his, she was careful to avoid jarring the IV at his wrist. Loose red hair tumbled past her shoulders in mussed waves. Her head lolled to the side, with her eyes closed, and her breathing even. Sleeping. From the look of her, it appeared as though she’d been here for days. Whatever had landed him here, it must have been bad.
What had happened to him? His muzzy mind attempted to put together the pieces, but it was like assembling a puzzle without knowing the final image. The weight of wires and tubes taped to his arm suggested he’d been injured. Hospitalised. But why, he didn’t know.
Barbara would know. She knew everything. He attempted to curl his fingers caught in her grasp. His arm felt heavy, his muscles stiff and uncooperative.
“I know you.” The words came out slurred and mumbled when he finally spoke. He couldn’t seem to get his tongue and lips to work together.
She stirred. Her eyelids fluttered.
He didn’t think she heard him, so he tried again. This time taking care to form each word slowly and distinctly. Still, he slurred, unable to shape the words properly. “I know you.”
“Mmm. Wha?” She stirred in the chair. Her own words were mumbled, but only with sleep.
“I know you.” This time the words came out clear, though hoarse.
She sat up suddenly, her eyes opening wide. Pushing her glasses back up her nose, she blinked at him as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “Ric?”
“Who?” Why was Babs calling him Ric. That definitely, positively, wasn’t his name. Had he woken up in an alternate dimension where his alter-ego went by Ric? He hoped not.
Babs shifted in her chair, flicking on a bedside lamp. “Dick?”
“Yeah.” He blinked, shying away from the light. The dim light hurt his eyes and auras flickered across his vision. Worse still, his head hurt like the dickens every time he tried to move. Or, lay still.
“Dick,” she sobbed, carefully manoeuvring his hand to her face, kissing it as her free flowing tears fell over their hands.
“That’s me. What’s wrong? Babs?” Dick’s head felt heavy and cluttered with strange dreams that couldn’t possibly be true. Unfortunately none of it cleared up what was actually happening. Why was Babs so distraught? This wasn’t the first time he’d been injured. Surely he’d get better.
Choking back the sobs, Babs offered him a watery grin. Her voice cracked with the influx of emotions. “You’re back. You’re you.”
“Who else would I be?” With the hand not being clasped by Babs, he reached to touch the spot where the pain in his head seemed to be emanating from. His hand jerked away the moment he brushed the short bristles of a closely shaven head. “What the hell happened to my hair!”
At this Babs tears became a laugh. She squeezed his hand tighter. “It really is you.”
“Babs, please,” he wheedled in a way he knew she couldn’t resist. “What happened?”
She sagged back in her chair. Her fingers slipped away from his. “You don’t know? I mean, you don’t remember anything that happened?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I knew why someone shaved my head and stuck me in the hospital.” Dick bit his lip as memories of a fiery explosion, a yellow cab, and too much alcohol came to mind. He shook his head trying to clear his senses of the scent of acrid smoke and the uncomfortable sensation of pushing everyone away. Maybe he didn’t want to know after all.
“All right. Do you remember being shot in the head?” She reached across him and brushed cool fingers against his scalp where the pain originated.
“Um, no. Should I?” He wracked his brain for the last memory that made sense. Breaking into people’s homes and squatting? Nah, that couldn’t be true. Torching his Nightwing gear? Fat chance. Abandoning Babs…Damian….his family. Not on his life. “Batman…erm, Bruce…he wasn’t doing well….after Selina…. I was trying to help. We were patrolling in Gotham…”
He winced. No more than winced, his whole body seemed to seize up on him. The pain thudding in his head pierced his whole body. He cried out and grabbed for Babs’ hand, squeezing it so hard that she cried out as well.
“I was shot,” he said as his body finally mostly relaxed. Blood pounded in his ears. “Is that why I’m here?”
Babs shook her head. “No. I mean, I suppose that’s part of why you’re here, but you collapsed a few days ago. Some guys from the cab company you were working for found you and called an ambulance. When I learned what happen….I came on out. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind?” This didn’t make any sense. Why did Babs think he wouldn’t want her? There would never be a day that….wait!
He drove a cab? Oh God, no. Nothing wrong with driving a cab….but if that was true… What else was true?
Her tears. The fact that she hadn’t seemed to quite believe that he was himself. The thought that he might not want her. He was going to be sick.
No. NO. NO! It wasn’t possible. He refused to believe he could have done all that.
With a growing dread, he was forced to admit that his nightmares might not be just nightmares. Rather, they had been his reality for these last few months.
“Babs,” his voice was a harsh whisper. “What did I do?”
The room was silent except for the pinging of the monitors that increased in speed as his anxiety rose. They wouldn’t be alone much longer.
Finally, she started to speak gently, carefully choosing her words. “When you woke up—after being shot—you had amnesia. You couldn’t remember anything after you’re parents’ death. You….you didn’t want to be reminded about the parts of your past that you couldn’t remember.”
Dick swallowed. Slowly he started putting the pieces together. He’d forgotten it all. What had shaped him. What formed him into the man he was today. Bruce. Alfred. Robin. Nightwing. The Titans. Jason…Tim….Cass…Damian. Babs. Oh, Babs. He had a feeling that he’d done more than forget them…. He’d hurt them. He hurt her. Tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. He closed his eyes and wished the next time he’d opened them, these past few months would disappear.
“Shh,” Babs gently stroked his head. It felt weird, the way the short bristles moved under her caress, but the touch of her hand was enough. “It’s going to be okay. You’re back now….”
“Thank you…,” he whispered as he opened his eyes, not daring to let her out of his sight. Afraid that she might disappear, that he might forget.
“For what?”
His head ached. It was hard to concentrate, but he needed to say this before he lost his chance. “Thank you for being here…for not giving up on me.”
“I’ll never give up on you, Boy Wonder.” She leaned in close and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’ll always be here for you.”