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Two: Zatanna

It was close to three in the morning when Kaldur awoke, a terrible sense of foreboding clinging to his mind and shuddering his spine. He stared at the ceiling, confused and exhausted, for only a few seconds. Then, he heard the crying.

M'gann and Conner were out tonight – something about a birthday party and a sleepover. M'gann had been terribly excited. That left only one person in the Cave the crying could be coming from. Zatanna, the Cave's newest occupant.

Rubbing his eyes with one hand, Kaldur climbed out of bed and headed into the hall. It was dark, but his night vision was better than most, and he easily maneuvered around the knick-knacks and small pile of clothes in the darkness.

He hesitated at her door, hand raised to knock. Inside, the crying continued, undisturbed. Kaldur wondered, briefly, if Zatanna truly wanted to see him. She'd been isolating herself as of late. Ever since she'd come to the Cave, she'd been more distant. Kaldur couldn't blame her, she was dealing with a trauma no one should have to be burdened with.

Rapping on the door, Kaldur sighed and waited for a response. A sniffling "come on" sounded a few seconds later. The door opened and Kaldur was greeted with the sight of Zatanna, curled up and red-eyed in her bed, positively drowning in blankets, pillows, and stuffed animal toys.

Zatanna wiped at her eyes and sniffled again before she spoke.

"Hey, Kaldur, what're you doing up so late?" she asked. There was an attempt at humour in her voice, but it fell flat. All Kaldur could see and hear was the pain and exhaustion that seemed to cling to Zatanna like an old friend.

He stepped forward and sat in front of her on the bed. Reaching out, he laid his hand across her covered knee and attempted to keep his concern simply that – instead of allowing worry or fear to overwhelm it.

"You've done well," murmured Kaldur, ignoring her earlier question. "This is the first nightmare I know of."

She grimaced. "There's… been more." She wiped at her eyes again. "I just feel so stupid." She clenched her hands into fists and pressed them into her eyes.

The tears were back, falling freely when she didn't press hard enough. Kaldur reached out and took one of her hands, wrapping his fingers around her own.

"Zatanna, everyone mourns," said Kaldur, softly. "Your trauma is no less terrible for all the others in the world."

Zatanna sniffled. She tightened her fingers around Kaldur's. Their joined hands were a sharp contrast of pale and dark, of human and Atlantean. Of two separate worlds that had combined to try to save the world from trauma and shadow, despite their own.

"I miss him," said Zatanna, quietly. "I miss him every single day and my dreams are just him. Dying. In a thousand ways." Her voice stumbled as she spoke, turning her words halting and shaky.

"He is not dead," said Kaldur, soothingly.

Zatanna snorted. "He might as well be." The bitterness in her voice was strong enough to taste. "I'll never see him again."

"You must have hope," said Kaldur. It was a phrase his mother often used. Something to say when you weren't sure what else you could do.

"How?" asked Zatanna, and it was a question Kaldur wasn't sure how to answer. "How am I supposed to be happy or fine or anything with my dad…" She broke off, an awful choking sob rising from her throat. She tore her hands from Kaldur's and buried her face in her palms.

Kaldur pressed a hand to her shoulder.

"You breathe," he said. "You breathe and you pray and you think of all the good in the world." Zatanna looked up at him, tears falling freely.

"What?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Breathe," said Kaldur, stroking her cheek. "And think of all the good times you two had."

Zatanna nodded. She took several shaking, trembling breaths, then looked up at him again.

"Now think of the good. Think of your favourite things." Kaldur's voice was firm. "Remember the man behind the helmet. Remember how much he loves you. You will see him again, someday."

"You think?" asked Zatanna.

Kaldur nodded. "I know." He pulled Zatanna into a tight hug. Zatanna clung to him. Together, they sat on the bed, talking of her father. And when the sun came up, Zatanna was smiling.