Trying is only half the battle (Batfam x Reader)

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Alrighty, so...in celebration of our 100th part, my stunning, beautiful, gorgeous sister has guest written for me. In true sisterly fashion, she nosed her way into my business and figured out I was writing in secret. So, I figured she could do me a solid and also implicate herself. I needed leverage...

Anyway, this was requested by @SquirticusMaximus and uses prompt 32 "You'll be perfectly safe as long as they don't come through the front door.". As always, I love you. I appreciate you. Thank you for existing and as always remember how dope you are.

Much love munchkins xoxo

(Yes, the author's note was also guest written, surprise kids. Mwah xx)

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(Y/N) Pov

After the attack, things hadn't quite gone back to normal for babs. While she rolled around, talked and joked around like everything was absolutely, totally, completely normal, sometimes her eyes told a different story. Only occasionally, when thumps echoed down the entryway, she would completely shut down again. As the first knock reverberates, she stops. It's as if she can smell potential danger, a wounded puppy with its baby hackles raised. The second knock triggers a fight or flight response, she looks to me. Eyes wide with fear. By the third knock, her breathing, usually so steady is reduced to short, sharp hitches. My heart hurts for her, knowing that once upon a time, she was invincible. Now, the slightest possibility of a repeat of that day sparks a fear I can't even fathom. 

Even after the hours spent with Dr. Schmidt, walking through the events on that horrible, horrible day in attempts to desensitise her thought patterns. Even after the nights spent curled in a ball next to Dick, hoping distractions and a human pillow could ease the terror. Even after the prescription pills, binge drinking and girls nights, hoping to relax and forget for a moment, we still had not stumbled upon the perfect coping mechanism. Considerable time had passed, it's not like this occurred yesterday. I'm not a monster, I understand that she's experienced unimaginable pain. I get that her space was violated in the most brutal manner. Her greatest fear walked straight into her home, her sanctuary and went 'bang'... literally. And she was the one that let him. I do not envy her for the position she's in. 

The physical scars had healed, physical therapy was no longer attended, she had been cleared to return to full duties yet she still confined herself to the four walls of her bedroom. The girl that once bounced through that cavernous apartment, all energy and outgoing badass, was a shadow of her former self. She was fit to work, but at the same time, she wasn't. It was like the light went out of her, every time someone knocked on that damn door. That stupid oak seemed to echo right into her brain, she succumbed to the sound, sending her straight back to square one. No matter how many times we told her, "Dude's bringing pizza, delivery in 10 minutes" or at the manor, "Bruce ordered Indian, old man needs a cleanout, it'll be here within the next 30 minutes". 

Seeing her like this, so frustrated with herself for her terror but not able to move past hurt, it hurts bad. Seeing someone you care for so broken, it's fucking hard. It was time to call in the big guns, there was only one other person that could maybe get through to her. Dick. There's only so much a best friend can do, sometimes it's the boy toy that gets to claim all the glory. We had discussed an intervention before, now was the time. Things had not improved, and it was high time that Miss Barbra Gordon returned to her usual self. Precalling, as a means to warn her of our impending entry, we ascended in the luxury lift. Key in the lock, twisting slowly and calling out, we moved into what was beginning to look like a teenage boy's den. 

Dick called out.

"Sweetheart,"

drawing her attention, she grunted from her darkened room. 

"We need to talk" 

Resignation passed across her face. She removed herself from the depths of her bed linen and hauled herself onto the lounge. She was tired, that's for sure. There was no energy about her anymore, every word, every action, every breath took effort. Things that brought joy once, people that brought joy, they no longer did. 

"About?"

"This"

"What do you mean?"

Playing dumb never looked good on Babs, she was too smart, too quick, too intuitive. Dick's raised eyebrow in conjunction with my tilted head brought forward a rare half-smile of understanding.

"Every time someone rocks up, here or at the manor, you jump. Literally and figuratively. We're taking steps to make sure you can live without fear, but you're not fighting against it, you're not talking, and things are never going to change."

She looked broken, she was never one for deep and meaningful conversations, much preferring to maintain her happy go lucky attitude. She was haunted, that painted bastard stole her security and by gosh, the last thing that I would let him have was her sanity. 

"It's not that easy! You two don't understand." 

I couldn't stay quiet, Dick wasn't speaking up so I would. The silly boy never knows what to say!

"You won't let us! You're pushing us away when we are the only ones still trying to help you. Everyone else has gone. Well done. You're spiralling and taking everyone down with you."

"What am I meant to do! It hurts. Every time that stupid door goes, every time, no matter who it is, I see him. And the barrel, and the flash. Over and over again!"

"You're meant to try. Try and fight back. Try and reclaim yourself. Try and stand up! All jokes aside, letting this control you gives him all the power. You will remain as powerless as you were the day it happened unless you start working to overcome this."

Tears, sitting in the creases of her eyelids began to streak down over her cheekbones. Moving toward Dick, she needed physical reassurance. I hated seeing her like this.

"It's scaring me. I'm scared. All the time. And I can't try, because what if it happens again, and no ones here to protect me. What is even the point?"

She was a shell of her former self. That much was becoming painfully evident. Finally, Dick decided to speak up. 

"Do you remember what Alfred used to say when Bruce was teaching us all his masterful Yoda ways? About letting danger in?"

 "You'll be perfectly safe as long as they don't come through the front door." 

"Exactly." 

She curled into him, one arm wrapped around me, one arm tucked up on my stomach, head on his chest, nooked in under his chin. It was sweet to watch, her being all needy and vulnerable, letting us in and him being her strong protective support. He could take the lead now.

"You promise?"

"Pinky swear sweetheart, we won't ever let him hurt you again. But you have to try for us ok? You have to talk to us, to let us in. You can't just roll over and let him rule your life. And anyway, trying is only half the battle."

She tilted her head up, lifting her hazel eyes between his and mine.

"What's the other half?"

I smirked, meeting her eyes and silently promising retribution,

"Hitting him more times than he hits us."


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