Don't Leave Me [Completed]

Chapter 20

Dick's POV
"You're going to be fine." I reassure Babs, squeezing her hand one last time before leaving the operating room. That's what I keep telling myself anyway. I know that she can handle herself. But I can't stop thinking over everything that could go wrong. She's going to be fine. She's going to be fine.

Jason came back from the dead last month, so Bruce couldn't stay for long in South Africa with James, Tim and I. I still don't believe that Jay's back, either. And killing, too. I would help Bruce, but I have to be here for Babs.

"The anaesthetic is just wearing off now." The nurse informs us. I stand up, wincing from my hunched back. "She's stable, but we're yet to know if the implant was successful." I hear. Her finish, but I'm already bursting through the doors of Babs' room.

"Dick...?" Babs croaks, her eyes fluttering open. I grab her hand. "Why do I hurt so much?" She groans, then she seems to remember. "Oh yeah." Babs starts clenching and unclenching her fists, and rubbing her neck to regain feeling. I put my hand on her knee by instinct, but as soon as I do, her face literally lights up.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"Dick." She grins, grabbing my hand, and a tear of happiness escapes her eye. "I felt it. I felt your hand. My legs are back."

"Come on, Babs! You can do it!" I cheer, watching my girlfriend walk between the two yellow bars, gripping them both so tight that sweat beads trickle down her face, and her knuckles are white. She collapses into her chair at the end.
"Oh, man, that was hard." Babs fans herself with her hand. She's been in therapy for a week now, and she's already improving. And I've been coming to every session. "Okay, I'm going to go again."

Babs spends nearly eight hours a day, just walking in between these two poles. As it turns out, she won't need to be in therapy or training for nearly as long as the doctors thought, but I'm still kind of wary about the whole thing. I want to know that Babs is better than her former self before she goes back out on the streets.

"Okay, Grayson. I did my training.
Now where's my treat?" We have this thing where I have to treat her to something after every training session. It's kind of my way of keeping Babs motivated.
"Well, I spent most of my night trying to make a gourmet picnic. Out of the twenty recipes I tried, only about seven worked." I shrug. "But anyway, I was thinking of going to a park or -"
"Yes! It's been so long since I felt the grass between my toes or rolled on the hills." Babs interrupts.
"Park it is."

"Well, this isn't exactly what I was expecting." Babs confesses as she wheels out of the manor into the garden. Only, this time, her feet are tapping a beat to an invisible song.
"You still can't walk on your own. So hanging out in the maze is easier." I explain, pulling out a packet of peanut butter choc-chip cookies.
"Did Alfred make these?" Babs asks, ripping open the zip lock.
"I did." I confess.
"These could possibly be even better than Alf's." She laughs.
"Don't let him hear you say that. You won't have any ice-cream for a month!"
"Well that's a risk I'm willing to take for my boyfriend." Babs whispers, and I push back her hair with my finger.
"You have no idea how long I waited for you to say that word." I reply.
"Oh I think I do."