Dick worried a lot. He worried deeply about everyone that he cared about, but he was particularly worried about you. What had happened in the Manor had effected everyone in some way, though he couldn't discredit the lingering damage it had on you. When Bruce had called him and told him what had happened, he was packing up his things in Blüdhaven and taking the first train back to Gotham City.

It was like a touch of bitter nostalgia, seeing you again. Just from looking at your face, he could tell that Bruce hadn't been as successful as he would have hoped in coaxing you back to the way you were. It was obvious in the way the man had driven himself into his work, burying himself neck deep until it was all he could focus on. It wasn't a testament to him giving up, rather an admission of his crippling guilt. You didn't react favourably to him, not when he was too similar to Lincoln himself. Bruce knew that, and Dick could tell it hurt him.

Which he could understand. But you still needed someone to make you feel safe, and he could leave the hunting down of Lincoln to Bruce while he spent some more time with you. Take your mind off it all.

"Hey, kiddo," Dick grinned, as if everything was okay. You hadn't even turned the lights on in the living room, huddled on the sofa where he'd left you. He set the popcorn down on the table, along with all the other snacks and drinks he knew were your favourite. Dick wasn't going to let his little sibling slip away. "Got everything we need for tonight. The others are making a mess of dinner with Alfred. He's cooking your favourite. Sounds good, hm?"

He sits down on the couch next to you, but refrains from pulling you into his arms. Before, he might have wrangle you into his side himself. Now, he felt like you were glass, where everyone was desperately trying to glue the pieces back together. If he could, he'd make the Court pay. But you were more important than revenge. "Remember that old film we saw at the DVD store? I bought it for us to watch, if you want."