It's not supposed to be this way. None of this was supposed to happen. Dick was never supposed to find her, he was never supposed to come to her rescue. She was doing this to save him; to save the team. It was the only way.
But as he lays here in her arms, she knows that it's no use. And the thing that is killing him is the only way to save his life. Her left hand shakes as she moves his shirt away from his chest, her right cradling him in her arms. He's cold now. And getting colder by the second. An army of red flows down his chest, catching on the part of his suit that is still tight against his abs. And she wants to cry, but right now, she knows she has to be strong. For him.
"Z-Zatanna," he manages to choke out, letting a trail of white flow down the corner of his mouth and down his jaw. The magician almost breaks down right there, seeing him like this. His eyes half lidded, his body going limper by the second. A pool of red surrounds them, growing faster with each passing minute. She needs to do this quick.
"Shh," She soothes, her voice quivering. She puts her hand on his wound and feels him tense up under her palm. In a second, he relaxes because tensing his muscles hurt a lot more than the pressure she's applying at the moment. And she licks her lips, getting the spell ready in her head. A simple healing charm won't work on this. Klarion the Witch Boy cast this spell with his magic; a magic far more advanced than her own. At the moment, she wouldn't disagree with his declaration of her having only baby magic. Because as the time ticks by, her magic seems to be growing smaller and smaller in the shadow of his towering sorcery. Her brow furrows in concentration and she gets this wrinkle in between her eyebrows. She murmurs small spells and enchantments before he does it.
She's leaning close to his chest, eyeing the wound, so it's easy to reach up and catch her lips with his. And she pulls back and kind of glares at him, when really now she's just crying. The charm is broken and he's growing weaker. She can feel his body start to grow limp and she lets out a sob.
"I-I can't let you do this," he says, holding back a groan when she shifts and her hand slides against the deep gash in his chest. His bright blue orbs look up into hers and she can see the fear behind them. His mask is gone, strewn across the floor somewhere in the rest of the building. Now that that mask is gone, his eyes are bare to the world. And he's scared. She can see it; that fear he constantly tries to hide from everyone. That absent fear in the front of his mind that when he sends his team on missions, they won't come back. That fear of losing the people he loves; losing her. And she knows its probably selfish, but right now, she hates him for trying to save her.
And even after everything-the relationships, the breakups, the fighting-he's still here for her. She hates him for that too. She hates him because it's just too hard to hate him at all. So she looks into his eyes, his bright sky blue eyes that she's always loved more than anything, and lets a tear slip down her cheek and fall onto the back of her hand. "And I can't let you die," her voice is no louder than a whisper, knowing that if she speaks normally, she'll crack and she'll sob.
"Z-Zee, I-"
"Shh," she shushes him again, kissing his forehead. "It's gonna be alright."
And she knows that this is it. She knows that Dick is dying. And no matter what she does, she knows it's not going to help. No matter what she does, she's going to lose her best friend, her teammate, her love. This is all her fault and she knows it. And when she finally breaks down and sobs into his sweaty and dirt filled suit, he's the one that's comforting her. He makes out a shaky "shh" and draws lazy patterns over her hand like he knows she loves.
She doesn't want to believe that it's over, that he's gone, but she can't stop her mind from knowing it. It's real. This is all real. She looks up from the tear stained material on his shoulder to see his eyes closed, his chest immobile. Zatanna just bites her lip, probably shedding blood, and covers her face with her hands, not caring at all that his blood is smeared over the left part of her face now. That doesn't matter.
After she's done, she leans down and kisses his forehead. "I love you," she whispers against it, her voice shaking violently before she lets out another half sob, her right hand covering her mouth. He's gone. Richard Grayson is gone. And this time, he's not coming back.
A/N: So, my grandfather is in the hospital and I just got news that he has a few days to live. He's the closest person in my family to me and just losing him...I can't even imagine. So here's a sad prompt for the day. See you guys.
