"It's okay⏤" Dick grabbed his friend's hand, squeezing it in a reassuring way. "I'm here. It's fine and I⏤... I'm sorry." His blue eyes laid on his friend. The guilt slowly crept back as he looked at the long bandage around the latter's throat.

They were on a mission together when it happened, he remembered. Dick made jokes, as always. He tried to impress his friend with his acrobatics, as always. The simple sight of his friend's smile had been enough for him to feel warmer. Could it be love ? He wasn't sure himself, and he didn't have the time to think about it. Things went fast. Blood spilled. Dick had been foolish, thinking that they would win easily. His friend and him did manage to stop the bad guys, yet they lost something else.

Dick let his thumb brush over the fabric of the bandage. At least, you're alive, he wanted to say, but didn't manage to. The guilt was too strong for him to speak. In his mind, all that stayed was the thought that his friend had lost the ability to speak. The latter's vocal cords got violently destroyed from a blade that cut the throat's flesh. Now, his friend was mute, not able to make any vocal sounds anymore.

"We--" Dick trailed, gathering some courage to speak. "You know, I can understand sign language. Do you want me to teach you ? Or do you know it already ?"

Dick smiled softly. He squeezed his friend's hand again. "You can also write if you prefer." He let go of his friend's hand, lifting his fingers toward the latter's cheeks. "I'll be here for you. Really. I'm here to be with you on that rough path."

His thoughts were divided between the guilt⏤the feeling that it was his fault, that he should have done better to protect his friend⏤and the warmth that rose in his chest. Able to speak or not, his feelings for his friend didn't decrease.