??? ???? ??????? ?? | dick grayson ?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is the second
update today so please read the chapter
prior to this if you haven't already!

warning: there is smut in this chapter
(FINALLY). i'm very anxious to publish this.
comment what you guys think.
please be kind! enjoy!

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHAPTER FOURTEEN
reverence
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Celina stirred slowly, already half-awake, pressed against Dick's chest. His arm was draped over her, not heavy, but solid, engulfing. Protective, even in sleep. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, hear the faintest whisper of it against her hair.

But beneath the comfort, dull aches tugged at her. Her back throbbed. The bruises were worse than she'd thought. She regretted not icing them the night before, but she'd been too tired. Too drained to do anything except collapse.

She tried to shift without waking him.

Didn't work.

His arm instinctively pulled her back in, a low noise catching in his throat like some part of him already missed her. She froze until his grip eased again, his body settling. Another attempt. Another failed escape. His arm locked around her waist loosely, like a sleepy anchor. She huffed softly into his shirt.

Third time was the charm. Slowly — very slowly — she slipped from his hold, replacing her weight with a pillow. His brow twitched, but he didn't wake.

Wandering down the hall, the ache in her muscles sharpened with each step. The kitchen was quiet, the scent of something warm drifting into the air. Celina blinked in surprise when she saw Superboy at the stove, spatula in hand, focused.

He glanced up. "You want some?"

"Yeah," she said softly, going for the fridge instead. She grabbed an ice pack and pressed it to her back with a hiss.

Superboy's eyes flickered toward her. He didn't say anything.

Neither did she — not at first. The silence settled comfortably between them.

But her thoughts were louder.

She turned to him. "Back there. With the golem." Her voice was quiet. "When it said all it wanted was stillness... when it said life is pain... you said you could relate."

Conner tensed slightly, his movements slowing. He didn't answer right away.

Celina didn't look away. "What did you mean by that, Conner?"

Still no answer. He flipped the eggs, jaw tightening.

She stepped a little closer, the ice pack still pressed to her lower back. "Hey. You won't be judged by me — ever. Whatever comes out of your mouth... it stays between us. Always." Her voice cracked a bit, barely noticeable. "I'm just... I'm just worried. That's all."

Conner stood frozen for a moment, spatula hovering over the pan. The faint hiss of cooking eggs was the only sound between them.

"I guess..." he started, voice low, rougher than usual, "I guess I meant that sometimes stillness doesn't sound so bad." He exhaled sharply through his nose, like the words had taken effort. "Not because I want to be gone. Just... because existing can feel like this constant pressure. Like I'm always pushing against something. Expectations. Doubts. Anger I don't even understand sometimes."

Celina didn't interrupt. She only listened, gaze soft, shoulders relaxed despite the pain still laced through her muscles.

"I was made for one purpose. To destroy," Conner said quietly. "A weapon. That's all I was supposed to be. And even now, after everything — the team, the mission, the growth — that part of me doesn't go away. It's always right there, under the surface. Waiting. I try not to let it show, but... when the golem said what it did, I guess it felt too close."