Sometimes, it felt like you were invisible.

Not to everyone—just to him.

Dick had always been the center of everything. The golden child. The one people turned to, leaned on, trusted without hesitation. He knew how to say the right things, how to fix what was broken, how to make people feel seen. And most of the time, he did.

Just not when it came to you.

It began with little things—promises he didn’t remember making, plans he didn’t show up for. He’d come back from a run to the city with something for everyone—Jason’s weird chips, Tim’s favorite coffee, Damian’s ridiculous herbal concoctions—but your request? Forgotten. Every time.

You told yourself it was fine. He was busy. You didn’t need anything, not really.

Until the day came when you did.

The day everything cracked, when even standing felt like too much. You needed someone—needed him. His voice, his presence, anything solid to cling to while everything inside you shook loose. So you called. Again. And again. And again.

No answer.

Hours passed.

Sorry, little bird. Caught up with patrol. I’ll call you after.

But after never happened.

And the silence swallowed you whole.

You found yourself on the rooftop that night, the city spread beneath you like it could offer some kind of answer. The wind cut deep, but you welcomed it—it was something to feel.

You didn’t move when the footsteps landed behind you.

Didn’t need to look to know it was him.

“Hey,” Dick said, voice soft as he sat down next to you. “You always pick the coldest nights to sulk, huh?”

Still, you didn’t speak.

He didn’t push. Just sat there, the warmth of him brushing against your arm.

After a moment, he said, quieter, “Bruce was looking for you. He’s… worried.”

You didn’t look at him.

You weren’t sure if you could.