The moonlight filtered through the large windows of the apartment you shared with Dick Grayson, casting pale shadows over the room. You stood near the kitchen counter, your fingers tracing the rim of a cold mug of coffee that had long since gone untouched. The silence in the apartment felt louder than any words you could exchange, each passing second thick with unspoken tension.
Dick had been working late again—no surprise there. As Nightwing, the city needed him, and you understood that. You had always understood that. But tonight was different. Tonight, you weren’t pacing in worry or frustration about him getting home safely. Tonight, you were thinking about her.
Barbara Gordon.
You’d never wanted to compare yourself to her, never wanted to even consider the possibility that you weren’t enough for Dick. But recently, the weight of it all—the unspoken connection that still existed between Dick and Babs—had begun to crush you from the inside out.
You weren’t blind. You could see it in the way his eyes lingered on her during those rare moments you all crossed paths. The way his laugh seemed easier in her presence, the way he seemed... lighter, somehow. You’d tried to shake it off, tried to tell yourself that it was all in your head, but it wasn’t. It was real.
And it was eating you alive.
The sound of the door clicking open brought you back to the present. You didn’t turn to greet him, though. Instead, you stayed still, feeling the familiar presence of Dick enter the room. His steps were heavy tonight—tired, burdened. He tossed his keys onto the coffee table and walked toward you, stopping just short of the counter.
"Hey," he said, his voice low, almost tentative. "You’re up late."
You nodded, but still didn’t meet his gaze. "Yeah. Couldn't sleep."
He noticed the tension immediately but didn’t push. He leaned against the counter across from you, folding his arms. "Want to talk about it?"
For a moment, you stayed silent, gathering your thoughts, and trying to find the right words. You hated confrontation, hated putting him in a position where he had to choose. But this had gone on for too long, and you were tired of pretending.
"Dick..." You started, your voice softer than you intended. "Do you still love her?"
The question hung in the air like a bomb waiting to go off. Dick’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the directness of it. He opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a hand, stopping him before he could form an excuse or denial.
"Please. Just... be honest with me," you said, your voice breaking a little despite your best efforts to stay strong. "I know you care about me, I’m not doubting that. But... it’s like every time she’s around, something changes. You’re different. You’re happier, Dick."
He stared at you, his blue eyes soft but conflicted. "Y/N, I—"
"Don’t," you whispered, shaking your head. "Don’t try to make this easier by sugarcoating it. I’ve been watching this happen for a while now, and I can’t... I can’t ignore it anymore."
Dick took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted, and you could see the guilt in his expression, the turmoil that your words had stirred inside him. "It’s not what you think. Barbara and I... we’re friends. We’ve been through a lot together. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do."
You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe that so badly. But deep down, you knew the truth.
"I’m not asking if you love me, Dick. I’m asking if you still love her." Your voice cracked at the end, the vulnerability pouring out despite your best efforts to hold it together.
He went silent again, his jaw clenching, and in that moment, you knew. You saw it in his eyes—the hesitation, the conflict. And that was your answer. He hadn’t said the words, but he didn’t have to.
"That’s what I thought," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
He took a step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you flinched, taking a step back. "Y/N, please... don’t do this. You’re more to me than you realize."
"But I’ll never be her," you said, finally meeting his gaze, tears welling in your eyes. "I’ll never be what she was to you. And I can’t keep pretending like it doesn’t hurt. Every time I see you with her, it feels like... like I’m second place. Like you’re with me because she’s moved on, and I’m just... filling the space she left behind."
Dick’s face fell, the weight of your words sinking in. He opened his mouth to say something, to protest, but nothing came out. And in that silence, you felt your heart shatter a little more.
"You need to be with her, Dick," you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. "I can’t be the person who stands in the way of your happiness. You were so much more alive when you were with her... and I can’t give you that."
"That’s not true," he insisted, his voice desperate now. "You make me happy, Y/N. I don’t want to lose you."
You shook your head, tears finally spilling over as you gave him a sad smile. "I love you, Dick. But I love you enough to let you go. Because you deserve to be with the person who makes you feel whole. And... I don’t think that’s me."
He stood there, his shoulders slumped, looking as though the weight of the world had just crashed down on him. His eyes were filled with a pain that mirrored your own, and for a moment, you wondered if you were making a mistake.
But you knew, deep down, this was the right thing to do. You couldn’t keep living in the shadow of someone else’s love, and Dick couldn’t keep denying the part of him that still longed for Barbara.
"I don’t want to hurt you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"You’re not," you said, wiping away a tear. "I’ll be okay. You will, too."
The silence stretched between you both again, but this time, it felt final. Like the end of something that had once been beautiful, but had run its course. You took one last look at the man you loved, the man who had brought so much light into your life, and swallowed the lump in your throat.
"Goodbye, Dick."
And with that, you turned and walked away, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the quiet apartment. You didn’t look back, even as your heart ached with every step. Because this was the only way. The only way for both of you to find the happiness you deserved—even if it wasn’t together.
Behind you, Dick stood frozen in place, watching as the person he cared for more than he ever thought possible slipped away, the reality of your words settling deep into his soul.
You had loved him enough to let him go.
