Dick makes a muffled noise that's only very vaguely reminiscent as a response to his name. He's tired, he's comfortable, and with the familiar scent and warmth of Barbara against him it's difficult to drag himself to consciousness for anything short of an emergency, and while he can tell that she's trying to get his attention with more than just idle intent it's hard to grasp at any reason he needs to be awake. But he tries, again, somewhat managing to tip his head back as he takes in a deeper breath, not even fully sure of what he's prepared for in the moment.

"Mmm?"

He's all loose, relaxed limbs and sleepy warmth of his own already, but whatever she needs he'll give it to her, unquestioning. But as far as he's concerned this is almost as close to perfect as it gets, and he's not expecting it to be anything other than what it is— a shared reassurance, comforting, an intimacy that's as simple as an enveloping hug. And don't they both deserve that?

If she moves away he won't try to pull her back. But he won't pull away himself, he only just decided, once and for all, with her help, that he wasn't going to swing away, not this time.