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Dinah is fuming as she walks into the apartment, Laurel trailing behind her.
The silence hanging between them is tense and Dinah feels it in her bones. Her whole body is aching, her head is throbbing and her throat hurts from swallowing down the lump that has started to form ever since they left the hospital.
She can feel Laurel’s stare burning into her back, but she refuses to acknowledge it. There’s fire raging in her chest as she tries to breathe deeply, but it’s burning her and setting her whole body on fire. Her hands are balled into fists and she squeezes her eyes shut to stop herself from crying.
Laurel takes a deep breath behind her and Dinah knows she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want to listen to Laurel trying to minimize what happened.
It’s not like Dinah’s not used to seeing Laurel hurt or in danger, but something about this felt different and Dinah hates it. She hates the thought of something happening to Laurel, of Laurel getting hurt. Of Laurel dying. She hates thinking about Laurel throwing herself into danger whenever she seems fit, without talking to Dinah about it, without trying to think of a better plan.
Dinah hesitates between going to her room, because she feels the need to be alone, or turning around and facing Laurel to have the conversation she’s been dreading ever since. She knows the easier path is to rush upstairs and hide in her room. But she has to talk to Laurel at some point so she might as well just get it over with.
It’s like Laurel can read her mind, because then there’s a soft hand around her wrist and Dinah immediately stops in her tracks. Laurel’s fingers feel cold against her skin.
“D, please.”
Her voice sounds tired, hoarse, as if she hasn't spoken in days. Dinah figures she hasn’t. She turns around slowly, the anger she’s been feeling slowly leaving her body as she looks Laurel in the eyes.
“Talk to me.”
Dinah rolls her eyes and pulls her wrist free from Laurel’s grip. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. How you’re feeling?” Laurel asks, eyes pleading. She looks exhausted. “What’s bothering you?”
Dinah can’t believe the words she’s hearing and she can’t help but stare at the woman in front of her. “What’s bothering me?”
“Dinah, I-”
“Are you kidding me?”
She’s seething, anger flickering up in her chest once more. Laurel seems taken aback by her change in demeanor, stumbling back just a little bit. Her eyes are wide and surprised, maybe a little scared, and Dinah can’t help but feel satisfied. Serves her right.
Laurel doesn’t say anything. She just looks at Dinah as if she’s waiting for her to tell her to get out; to leave. Dinah can’t find it in herself to do so. She doesn’t want Laurel to leave. She doesn’t want her to go anywhere. That’s the whole point of all this.
Dinah shakes her head to herself and lets out a wet laugh, the lump in her throat back full force. Her gaze locks on Laurel’s and she’s blown away by the emotions she sees reflected in her eyes.
“I just- You haven’t said a word to me ever since you picked me up from the hospital.” Laurel says, face pained and voice quiet. Almost like she’s afraid to speak. Afraid to make things worse.
“I picked you up from the hospital, Laurel.” Dinah snaps, “How do you think I feel?”
“I- I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Dinah spins around and walks towards the couch, hands running through her curls in frustration. She can’t believe Laurel doesn’t realize why she’s so upset. She can’t believe she has to spell it out for her. As if it’s not obvious how she feels. As if she hasn’t been showing it every single day, trying to get Laurel to realize.
Laurel follows her quickly, but doesn’t sit down next to her. Instead she just stands there, hands hanging at her sides lamely. Dinah hates that this feels so awkward. She just wants to wrap Laurel in her arms and hold her close. Never let her go.
“Dinah.” Laurel says, “Please. I know what I did was stupid and not my best idea, but-”
“Stupid?” Dinah asks, turning her head to look up at Laurel. Her eyes are wet and stinging, but she never looks away from Laurel’s face. “Running a red light is stupid. Burning your food is stupid. Hell, even blowing your cover is stupid.”
Laurel casts her gaze downwards and it sends a shiver down Dinah’s spine.
“Getting yourself almost killed is not stupid.” Dinah mutters then, fight draining out of her.
This time Laurel does step closer. Just until she’s standing next to Dinah, their legs almost touching. Dinah doesn’t look at her anymore, just stares at her hands locked together in front of her, elbows resting on her knees. Laurel’s presence next to her is making her go insane.
“I’m fine, Dinah. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” Dinah asks, feeling the need to run.
She jumps off from the couch and walks away from Laurel. She can’t breathe. Laurel being this close to her, when she’s feeling this many feelings, is too much. Her chest feels heavy, tears threatening to spill, and her hands are shaking. Laurel stays put, hands clenched into fists as she looks at Dinah.
“What-”
“You were in a coma for three days. Three days, Laurel.” Dinah starts, spinning on her heel and storming back towards where Laurel’s standing, “You were unconscious for three fucking days. I had to sit next to your bed, holding your hand, talking to you as if things were okay. As if you weren’t almost dead.”
“Dinah.” Laurel whispers, eyes turning soft. “I didn’t know.”
“I had to sit there,” Dinah mutters, voice cracking as she looks at Laurel, “and think about who to call if you wouldn’t wake up. I had to sit there and look at you and try to be okay.”
Laurel steps closer to her and makes a move to reach out, but she stops herself midway. Dinah’s glad, because she doesn’t think she could handle Laurel touching her right now. Her mind is racing as she replays the last few days in her head.
“And then you woke up. And you were pretending everything was fine.” Dinah says, a first tear now rolling down her face. “But it wasn’t. It isn’t, Laurel. It’s not okay.”
They’re looking at each other, eyes wide and sad and hurt and Dinah just wants the pain to go away. She doesn’t want to have to think about losing Laurel. Everything about this just makes her want to run and hide, to never acknowledge any of this ever again. But then something shifts in Laurel’s gaze and Dinah shudders.
“It’s part of the job, D,” Laurel says carefully.
“Bullshit.” Dinah bites back. “Bull-fucking-shit. You are so full of shit and I’m so done with it.”
“What are you talking about?”
Dinah shakes her head, blinded by anger. “Fuck, are you blind?”
“Dinah, will you please just talk to me?” Laurel asks, clearly getting annoyed at this point. “Yes, I got hurt and it was bad, but things are fine now.”
“Fucking- Fuck.” Dinah says, raising her voice. “What about next time? What if next time things are not fine and you die. Then what?”
It’s almost like Laurel doesn’t know what to reply to that, because her shoulders sag and the annoyance that was about to take over her body seems nowhere to be found. She averts her gaze from Dinah’s, looks at a point somewhere above her shoulder instead, and sighs. Dinah looks at her and realizes now, for the first time since they got home, how tired she looks. How weak. It makes her heart clench in her chest.
“Then nothing.” Laurel mumbles.
“Nothing?” Dinah asks, not believing it. “You think, what? You’d die and I’d just be fine?”
“After a while, yes.”
Dinah closes the distance between them, their chests nearly pressed together as she gets closer, forcing Laurel to look at her. The tension between them is as sharp as a knife and Dinah’s whole body is tense. Laurel seems uneasy.
“Fuck you.” Dinah seethes. “Honestly. Fuck you.”
She goes to turn away as more tears stream down her cheeks, but Laurel grabs her wrist once again to hold her in place. Her grip is tight, fingers digging into Dinah’s skin, and Dinah knows she should try to get loose, but she doesn’t. Instead she just stands here, turned away from Laurel, but not making a move to leave. Laurel’s voice is soft when she speaks. Almost insecure.
“Why do you care so much about what happens to me?”
And that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back. Dinah turns on her, finger coming up to poke at Laurel’s chest. Her eyes are piercing into Laurel’s and she’s positive she’s shooting daggers at her.
“Because I fucking care about you, Laurel,” Dinah says, gentler than she’d intended. “I have already seen someone I love die, twice, and I honestly couldn’t go through that again with you.”
Laurel’s grip on Dinah’s wrist loosens as her eyes widen. She takes a small step back, as if she’s scared of Dinah all of a sudden, and Dinah just wants to pull her closer. But she doesn’t, because maybe she said too much and maybe Laurel is about to walk out on her.
“You care about me?” Laurel asks quietly. “You love-”
“I sat at your bed for three days straight.” Dinah cuts her off, not ready to hear anything Laurel wants to say. “I didn’t sleep, I barely ate, I couldn’t breathe. All I could think about was that you were dying and I never got to tell you how I feel.”
Laurel opens her mouth to say something, but Dinah doesn’t give her the time.
“You can’t keep throwing yourself into danger and expect me to not feel anything. You can’t run into fire and not expect me to follow. You can’t do shit like that and not expect me to get upset. I never intended to care about you like I do. I hated you and I wanted to hate you, but you made me feel things that I’ve never felt before and seeing you like that just-”
This time it’s Dinah being cut off by lips being pressed against her own. She tenses, but then Laurel’s hands cup her face, tangle in her hair, pull her closer, and Dinah melts against her. Her train of thought is long forgotten as Laurel pulls her into her body. Dinah grips onto Laurel as tight as she can, finally letting herself show how scared she was of losing Laurel. How scared she was of never getting to be close to her again.
Then Laurel pulls back just enough to breathe, their lips brushing together as they stand together. Dinah doesn’t have it in her to open her eyes. Her hands are tangled in Laurel’s sweater and she doesn’t want to let go. It’s only when Laurel drops her hands to wrap her arms around Dinah’s waist that she thinks she doesn’t have to.
“You can’t do this to me again.” Dinah whispers, begs, against her lips. “Please.”
Laurel doesn’t say anything, because Dinah knows she can’t promise her something like this. Instead she kisses her, arms tight around her waist, holding her as close as humanly possible. Dinah doesn’t fight the tears still rolling down her cheeks when she realizes Laurel doesn’t seem to mind.
Dinah feels herself calm down as Laurel holds her. The press of Laurel’s body against her own grounds her enough to calm her racing heart.
She exhales against Laurel’s lips, resting their foreheads together. Laurel never once loosens her hold on her, only keeping her close. Dinah loves it. Dinah loves her.
“I’m sorry, D.”
“Don’t be.” Dinah says as she pulls back enough to look at her.
One of Laurel’s hands comes up to cup her cheek, thumb softly drying her tears. “I never intended to make you feel this way.”
“I know.”
“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.” Laurel admits quietly.
“I know.” Dinah repeats.
Laurel sighs. “You know I can’t promise you anything like that, right?”
Dinah doesn’t know what to say. The thought of losing Laurel making her chest feel heavy. She doesn’t ever want to go through something like this again. But she knows Laurel’s right, so she nods. Laurel presses a soft kiss against her lips in return.
“But I can promise you that I will try my best to always, always, come home to you.”
And that’s the only promise Dinah needs.