InsaneJournal

Who: Dick and Xander
What: bonding?
When: this morning.
Where: complex kitchen.
Warnings: TBA.


Dick was still furious with Babs. She should have known better then to talk back at that new guy like she had. He knew before she was capable of taking care of herself, but now? Now Dick felt like he had to play babysitter. He felt like if he didn't watch her closely she would pull another stupid stunt and end up dead like she had before. Only this time there wouldn't be anyone around to bring her back to life. That memory haunted him. He wasn't even able to say at the time that he'd been worried thanks to his own demonic possession. But the post affect was an entirely different story. Babs had died. She died without thinking, and then tried to play it off as no big deal. It was a big deal. But the way she spoke to the Trickster made it seem like she didn't care one way or another what happened, and that made Dick furious.

Most of the time he was able to contain his anger, but when it came to her death it was another thing entirely. He'd loved her once. Was ready to marry her until she decided he needed to go find 'it' before she would commit to a life long relationship with the former boy wonder. Whatever it was. Dick still wasn't sure what she meant by that when Babs turned down his proposal. He probably didn't have the right to be as angry as he was with her. She wasn't a little kid anymore, but these days Dick wasn't so sure if she had grown up from playing dress up yet. He took his job seriously as Nightwing. Sure he took risks. But most of them were planned out to a Tee the best he could to his ability.

He'd nearly died three times in his past. He wasn't about to let it happen again if he could help it and he wished Babs would take the same precautions. She had no idea how it really effected him to find out from Xander that she'd died. He didn't even have the option of learning it from her. Finding out from someone else had only made the wound a little bit larger.

Physically since his demon experience, Dick was healing. His bruises and wounds were nearly gone. But the mental was a little different. Mostly Dick stuck to himself recently, but he found now that he didn't have much option. He was running out of food, and made the decision that he really had no choice but to go down to the kitchen if he wanted to eat that morning. It was only about ten A.M. when Dick started sifting through the refrigerator. He couldn't figure out what he was in the mood for until he spotted it, cold pizza wrapped in tin foil and his lips curved upwards for a minute as he grabbed it and turned to sit down at the table with it in his hand. Unwrapping the tin foil he winced a little. "Veggie..ugh." Not his favorite, but it would do.