Making Waves

Chapter 13

He didn't care how adamant Bruce was about waiting until the end of his assigned recovery period. He technically only had two days left, but Dick was fine. He felt fine, he walked fine, he fought fine, and most importantly, he looked like he was fine. That bit was most important because when Bruce came calling, it was his first line of defense in proving he was field ready. He was itching to get back on patrol, but interestingly, it wasn't out of worry for the city.

He had kept up with Perseus's movements through the precinct arrests since Dick Grayson was allowed back to work and she had been busy, bringing in several muggers, some low-level corner drug dealers, a few robbers, and even a couple of suspected abusers. Maybe she had been too busy, now that he thought about it. If she was putting in the extra effort to make up for his absence, well, he could feel the slight guilt in his chest just waiting to manifest. Or maybe that was the pain left over from the scabbed-over slash wound. It was hard to tell.

Dick leaped over the rooftops, following a well-traveled path. He really did need to return to patrol, but there were still about forty-five minutes left before he was meant to begin, and he had something else to do first. The harbor glimmered into view faster than he remembered, and Dick snuck past the main trading ships to the familiar rickety outpost.

Normally when his presence was announced by the first step onto the creaky wooden panels, Perseus would turn her head back and watch him approach her at the end of the pier. This time, she jumped up immediately, dashing over to him with a large grin.

Dick smiled back, raising his hand in greeting. Before he could process it, she had darted in to give him a quick, tight hug that was over as soon as it had happened.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, eyes roaming his suit, "Fully healed?"

"Good as new," Dick chirped, then pouted a little, "I would've been back earlier, but Batman benched me."

Dick watched as Perseus narrowed her gaze at him, then raised a finger and jabbed it gently into his chest. He winced as it pressed into sore skin.

"Liar," she snorted, but didn't argue any further.

Would Bruce perform the same test when assessing if he was fit to return? Dick hoped not.

Perseus turned and walked back down to the edge of the pier, and he followed in her shadow, already used to their small pre-patrol routine. Dick usually stood beside her, fighting the urge to lean on the flimsy support pole, but this time he took the seat next to her, dangling his feet over the edge. She spared him a short, surprised look before turning back to gaze at the water.

"I heard you've been busy," Dick hummed slightly, "And that the holding cells are getting awfully full."

Perseus's boots skimmed the water as she laughed.

"I was getting bored," she shrugged, then narrowed her eyes playfully, "Have you been stalking me from Gotham?"

"I've been here the last few days," Dick admitted, "But only as a civilian."

The confession made Perseus frown a little, and she turned to look at him.

"Next time slip me a note or something, I was—" she paused, twisting her lips slightly. She turned back to the water. "Worried."

That was definitely guilt that time, Dick mentally winced. He had gotten so caught up the last couple of days, he hadn't thought of letting her know he was doing better. He really should have, especially after she went through all that trouble of getting him out of Kobra's grasp and off that awful, creepy island. Something in his brain nagged at him, to remind him he still didn't really know how she had done it. He pushed it away.