entitled: the wake up call
summary: Dick wasn't one to easily forgive those who disturbed his sleep. But he would make an exception because it's her. —DickZatanna. Canon.
rating: T
disclaimer: I do not own.
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It was three in the morning.
Who had the gall to wake up The Nightwing at three in the morning?
Dick pulled the covers over his head. Go away, he willed. To his dismay, the knocking persisted.
Dick finally rolled out of bed when it seemed like his efforts to stick out beneath his covers until the person gave up was actually encouraging the individual to knock louder. And to a merry tune that only darkened his mood.
Distraught and in complete darkness, Dick felt his way to the door. There better be some sort of alien invasion to take over the Earth or he will seriously take it upon himself to act with the intention of harm on whomever was on the other side—
Dick didn't bother turning on the light switch in his room, because honestly, he would know her anywhere. Even in the dark—especially in the dark. Still, no relationship is worth waking up at three in the morning for without an adequate explanation.
"Zatanna, what are you doing here?" Dick collected there was no alien invasion happening outside. Flipping on the light switch in his room, he stared with annoyance—and slight concern—into her blue, blue eyes. Zatanna stood defiantly, unfazed, in her yellow hoodie and blue shorts, with a plate of cookies extended out to him and a laptop tucked under her right arm.
"Thanks for inviting me in Dick," she expressed with a wry smile, slipping easily into his room.
Dick sighed. After her joining the Justice League, the two kind of had a falling out. He had forgotten how good she was at doing whatever the hell she wanted.
Dick closed his door and turned to see Zatanna settling into his bed. "Make yourself at home," he said dryly, making his way to his closet.
After slipping on a shirt and leaving his Batman boxers on—he didn't have to justify himself—Dick slid onto the bed, careful to avoid hitting the plate of cookies that thankfully, was wrapped over in plastic. "I don't want to disturb you Zatanna, but mind filling me in as to why you're here? In my room? On my bed? With your laptop and cookies?"
Zatanna was typing furiously. She was never one to squirm at his serious questioning. "I think I may have figured it out," she stated flatly.
Figured it out.
For Zatanna to come to his door at three in the morning, with her I-come-in-peace-to-disturb-you cookies and laptop, saying she's "figured it out," could only add up to one thing.
"Are you sure? We've already tried so many times."
Zatanna turned and glared at him. "And we'll try as many more times as necessary until I finally free my father from Fate," she replied through gritted teeth.
Dick sighed. Dealing with her father's… loss, always seemed to unravel her.
He took the laptop from her and began skimming through the content. It was cute that she was being all 'secret detective,' but if she could truly figure it out on her own, she wouldn't have come to him.
Scanning the information, it seemed that Zatanna was getting more desperate. Dick didn't need to ask to know that the documents loaded onto her laptop were stolen from the private sector of the national library. He'll give her credit for being discrete at least—nothing had appeared on the news concerning a break-in of the national archives.
Dick returned the laptop to Zatanna after glossing through the material. She looked at him expectantly. "So?"
"I'm not sure," he replied. He wasn't going to give her false hope. "We'll being going off old spells that have no legitimate backing. It doesn't seem plausible, Zatanna. Even if it did come from the archives, it doesn't mean it'll work. And plus, if we screw up and end up making Fate mad, it wouldn't be…good."
Dick watched grimly as her face fell—for how much longer would he have to be the one who makes her look like that? Always destroying her hopes to save her father with his so-called logic. Leaving her disappointed and despairing.
He couldn't take it.
Despite all that Bruce had taught him, Dick was still… well, a softy. He didn't cope well with other peoples' sadness—it weighed him down, gnawed at his heart.
With a heavy sigh, Dick closed the laptop and took it away from Zatanna, disregarding her protests. He moved the plate of cookies to his bedside table and pulled Zatanna down to lay with him.
She slid easily into his arms, muttering an incantation that flipped off the lights.
"Dick, help me. I miss him so much."
"We'll figure out a way." It was his promise.
He won't let her be this way forever.
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fin.