Siren| Dick Grayson-Nightwing

She sat on the edge of the med bed, knees pulled up, arms hugging them tight. The faint beep of the machines and the cool sterility of the room did nothing to chase away the shadows of the year she'd spent trapped. Every noise made her flinch, every movement in the room felt like a test.

Dick leaned against the wall a little ways off, careful not to crowd her, but close enough that she could feel his presence. His eyes watched her quietly, soft and steady, as if he were measuring the smallest tremor in her hands or the tiny hitch of her breath.

"Has... anyone ever taken care of you?" His voice was low, careful, almost like he was asking a question too big for words.

She swallowed, voice rough and uncertain. "No." One word, barely louder than a whisper. She flinched, expecting disappointment or judgment, but none came.

Dick shifted a little closer, just enough that she could sense the warmth behind him without feeling trapped. "It's okay," he said after a pause. "We're together."

Those words didn't promise safety or take away the fear, but they offered something steadier than she'd had in a long time. She let her hands fall from her knees, just a fraction, and let herself imagine, if only for a moment, that maybe she didn't have to be alone anymore.