They’d built a life together, one woven out of little things—her coffee mug next to his in the mornings, the way her laugh filled the apartment louder than any TV show, her hairbands and jackets scattered across his place like they belonged there, because they did. Dick had thought it was messy in the most perfect way. He thought it was forever.

Until one night, she was gone. No note, no warning. Her things were missing from their drawers, the spaces where her presence had lived now painfully empty. Just like that, she had carved herself out of his life, and she hadn’t even left him the courtesy of an explanation.

He tried to convince himself he could move on, that people leave and that was just the way the world worked. But Dick Grayson didn’t work like that. Not when it came to her. He searched for her everywhere—on rooftops, in crowds, through whispers from his contacts. Every mission blurred with the thought of maybe, maybe seeing her face again. Weeks bled into months, months into a year, and all he found were dead ends.

The ache settled in his chest like a wound that refused to close. He would laugh with his friends, smile at the world, but at night he’d find himself staring at the ceiling, wondering if she was safe, wondering what he had done to drive her away, wondering if she ever thought about him too.

And then—when he had finally started to let go, finally forced himself to stop looking—fate threw her back in his path. It wasn’t some grand reunion or carefully planned meeting. No. It was brutal in its simplicity.

Dick had come to Blüdhaven on a routine mission—tracking arms dealers who’d slipped across the river from Gotham, a city that already made him uneasy. The streets were damp with drizzle, neon signs flickering in puddles, the hum of traffic and distant sirens a constant reminder that this city had its own pulse, its own chaos. He wasn’t here to relax. He was here to work. Focus. Do a job and leave.

But the universe had other plans.

He ducked into a small coffee shop tucked between two shuttered buildings, just to grab a quick cup and shake off the chill. The bell above the door jingled as he stepped inside, warm air hitting him, rich with the scent of roasted beans. He was halfway to the counter when he froze.

There she was.

Sitting at a corner table, head bent over a notebook, scribbling furiously, a cup of coffee steaming beside her. Even across the room, even with the mundane noise around her, she radiated… her. That same curve of her shoulders, the tilt of her head, the way her hair fell just so perfectly. Alive. Real. Right here in Blüdhaven, when he had convinced himself she was gone forever.

His chest tightened. His stomach flipped. All the careful control he’d maintained over the past year—the restraint, the anger, the grief—crumbled in an instant. Crumbled into a burning need: he had to know why.

He stepped forward, boots soft on the worn wooden floor, closing the distance until he was standing in front of her table. She looked up, startled, eyes wide as recognition hit, but the second she met his gaze, she froze.

“Dick…” she whispered, almost inaudible.

He didn’t sit. He didn’t smile. He planted both hands on the edge of the table, leaning just enough to make his presence undeniable, the heat of his frustration and relief radiating off him.

“You left,” he said, voice low but trembling with everything he’d held back. “One night you were here, and the next—gone. No word, no goodbye. Do you have any idea what you did to me?”

Her fingers tightened around her pen, knuckles white. She opened her mouth, closed it, searching for the words he didn’t even know he wanted to hear.

Dick’s jaw clenched, eyes burning. “I deserve to know why. Why did you leave? Why did you disappear without a goddamn word?!”