Clara's POV

I punched the wall, not caring when bone cracked and wood splintered. I laid down on my bed, pulling in the pillow and shutting out the insinuating voices in my head. Shutting out everything.

I tried to tell myself that it didn't really matter, that I didn't actually care about him. I hoped it would lessen the pain, but I couldn't believe myself.

You'll never be good enough, they whispered. He could barely last a few weeks with your bullshit.

I pulled the pillow tighter. I wanted to feel something other than the cold bleakness that threatened to consume me. Why didn't he want me anymore? I was starting to believe the insults my mind threw at me.

You were too soft, the voice continued. You weren't smart enough.

Another voice piped up. Or you were too cruel. You could see the way he looked at you. With such fear in his eyes.

Hours later, I rolled out of my bed. I had to do something, because just sitting there would drive me mad.

I walked into a private training room. The punching bag caught my eye. I threw a halfhearted strike, relishing the force against my knuckles. I did it again. Soon, I was a whirlwind of flesh and fury, kicking and punching until I could barely breathe.

I stepped away from the bag and eyed the ropes. It had been a while since I'd practiced my trapeze moves. I grabbed ahold of the smooth wooden loops, pulling myself up until I was upside down. Then, I let go, hurtling to the ground. I managed one single flip before falling flat on my face. I felt the slap of my skin against the mat, and gingerly prodded my cheek.

I stood up, then did it again. And again. And again. After fifteen tries, I was able to grab the loops again after doing a complete flip. I attempted two flips.

Miraculously, one of my feet caught in a wooden loop. I hung there for a little bit before my weight became too much and I plummeted to the ground. I touched my hand to my nose, feeling it come back sticky with blood. But it wasn't enough. I wanted to feel the crunch of bone against bruised knuckles. I stalked to the main training area. Maybe there was someone who was willing to fight me.

Superboy and Aqualad were sparring on the white tiles. With a pointed look at Aqualad, he left the area, and I glanced toward Superboy. He nodded, beckoning me onto the floor. I tucked my shirt in and readied myself.

We circled each other, neither of us wanting to make the first move. Suddenly, he charged at me. I ducked below his punch, swinging my leg at his ankles. He deftly jumped over it, but already I was up, and I slammed a uppercut into his chin. While he was still dazed, I twisted his arm behind his back and shoved my knee into him, bringing him to the ground. The word 'fail' appeared next to him. I held out my hand to help him up.

"Again," I said quietly. He nodded.

This time, I made the first move. Before he could react, I punched him across the face. My knuckles split. I swept my leg for his side, and it connected against his ribs. I grabbed his flailing arms and flipped him, head over heels. He tumbled to the ground, and I held my hand out again. Blood trickled from his nose.

"Again."

He looked at me with pain in his eyes. I readied myself.

We went on like this, over and over again until he was bruised and bloody and my knuckles were split. I helped him up.

"Again."

"Clara, I don't think this is-"

I cut him off. "Again."

He sighed with a shudder and readied himself. Mercifully, Artemis interrupted and she pulled me aside.

"Clara," she said, "how 'bout we go beat up some people who deserve it." She held up her bow, and I grinnedin response.

"Of course," I said. "Let me just change into something more comfortable."

After throwing on leggings and boots, I met her outside of her room. Daggers were tucked into various places in my clothing, and a longsword was sheathed across my back. I also had throwing stars, just in case.

She grinned at me, wearing her green suit. She inclined her head towards the garage, so we could ride the bikes into the city. We walked silently side by side. Once we got there, I noticed the rows upon rows of bikes. Small, large, blue, yellow, orange, everything. A purple one caught my eye and I ran to it, hopping on and revving the engine. Artemis chose a green one, and we sped off into the night.

There were few criminals roaming the streets this evening. We stopped petty thieves and muggers, and a few major robberies, but not much more than that. We took a break after a bit, sitting on the side of the road and eating tacos from a street vendor.

Artemis glanced at me curiously while I devoured my meal. "So... are you... are you okay?" she asked. I stopped eating for a second.

"Why wouldn't I be," I said harshly.

"It's just that... I don't know. You're acting... different."

"Different how?"

She sighed. "Usually, when I'm really... angry or whatever, I... like to beat people up. Like what we're doing tonight."

I stared at her blankly. "And?"

"You're acting the same way! I just wanted to know if you need someone to talk to."

I stopped short. Did I want to talk about it? No, that's a sign of weakness. But... did I-

"Kind of," I said before my training could convince me otherwise. She nodded, and I started ranting. I told her about our history. About Haley's circus. I skipped the part about Amelia, then fast-forwarded to when I kissed him.

"I confided in him," I said softly. "I told him secrets, I fucking told him I loved him and then he does this."

"Jesus," she muttered.

"What am I even supposed to do?"

She sighed and furrowed her brow. "I don't understand. He cared about you, Clara. I saw it. We all saw it. You don't... you don't deserve this."

"No shit," I muttered.

She continued. "It's getting late. I'm gonna head back."

I nodded, then followed her back to where we parked our bikes, and we rode back to the Cave.

Night Wing's POV

I watched her beat Superboy over and over again. I couldn't stop thinking that I'd made the wrong choice. But what else was I supposed to do? I wandered back to my room. I laid down on my bed and took out a picture that we had taken together, staring at it. I wanted to cut her out, but I knew this wasn't her fault. It was mine. I couldn't ignore the empty black void in my heart where she used to be.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. When I checked to see who texted me, I noticed the time. Had I really been laying here for hours?

It was Roy, telling me to meet him in Gotham in an hour. I sighed and rolled out of bed, throwing a jacket on. This would be interesting.