Lost Stars

Chapter Thirty

-Dick's POV-

I walked around Athena's new apartment. I knew I should've left by now, but I wanted to see how she was living now. It was a small place, similar to mine, but bigger than a loft. There was only one bedroom. I wasn't surprised. Athena didn't seem like the type to have company.

Then, who was that guy? My brain screamed.

My legs lead me around, searching for a photo or something that proved she wasn't as alone as she said. But, there was nothing. Athena never kept pictures anyway. I tried to not let it get to me.

My head throbbed. I gripped it, hoping the pressure would take the endless pain away. I was still feeling the after effects of my embarrassing night out. Why had I let myself drink so much? I never binge drank.

To be honest, I couldn't remember anything. The last thing in my memory was getting inside a cab. Everything after that was blank. I had no idea how I ended up in Athena's house or what had happened between us. A dark feeling crept inside me. What exactly had I said? What had she said? When we briefly talked this morning, she seemed guarded, even more than normal. I had tried to be the situation defuser I usually was, but she wasn't biting. Shivers ran up and down my spine.

I didn't think our relationship could get any colder but apparently all it took was some alcohol.

I found my clothes next to her bed. The thought popped into my mind briefly but judging by Athena's attitude, but I immediately doubted we slept together.

Fumbling with my clothes, I tried to comb my hair down. It was messy and dirty. Still, I could very faintly smell something familiar in my hair and on my body. The scent made me smile against my will.

It was Athena.

She didn't wear perfume very often. And that wasn't what I was smelling. No, it wasn't the artificial scent that I found myself smelling like anytime I was with Barbara. It was Athena's natural smell. I hadn't realized that I had memorized it. But, there it was. It was sweet, like flowers. I would be able to identify it from anywhere.

Even though I was fairly certain that -- despite me being drunk off my ass -- we hadn't had sex, I had to wonder. Why was her scent all over me? Had she touched me? I couldn't imagine her running her hand through my hair or hugging me with how dodgy our current state was.

Sighing through my nose, I locked her front door and climbed out the window onto the fire escape.

It was early morning on a Saturday. Gotham was buzzing with activity. I put on a pair of sunglasses and kept my head down, cursing the sun for being so bright when I was clearly in pain. Every noise in Gotham felt like a high pitched whistle or scream. And Gotham was never quiet. Each passing car, laughing child, or dog bark made my head explode.

I mumbled curses to myself as I made my way home. I slowly unlocked the door and stepped in.

"Good morning," Barbara greeted in a normal voice that sounded like she was shouting. I gripped my head and plopped onto the couch.

The action didn't go unnoticed.

She grabbed two cups of coffee and sat across from me. From across the small table, she studied me carefully. I groaned and leaned back, closing my eyes. "So...what happened?" Babs asked, gently pushing the mug towards me. I picked it up like it was a winning lottery ticket.

"Ughhhh," I sipped the coffee. It tasted like liquid heaven. The bitterness of the coffee quickly got rid of the lasting taste of tequila that had stuck around.

Barbara crossed her arms. She patiently waited for me to look up at her and answer her question. I took another gulp of my coffee. "Dick," she said, "how did you get so hungover?"