This was not real. This was a dream. An awful, terrible dream. Cissie was not standing in a cemetery while some pastor who never even knew her mother went on and on about her life. She was not staring at the urn that held her mother's ashes, and she was most certainly not angry. No, not angry at all.

Cissie looked up at the small group of people who were gathered for Bonnie's memorial service. Bonnie didn't have a lot of friends, so pretty much everyone there was there to support Cissie. Tim was, of course, by her side. Her dad was there. So were Connor, Roy, Lian and Dinah. Tim's family, too, had come to pay their respects. She recognized Bruce and his wife, Selina. Dick, Barbara, even little Jimmy and MK were there, as well. Her former YJ teammates, Jon Kent and Bart Allen had also made it in.

Much as she appreciated the support, Cissie wished everyone would stop acting like they had to walk on eggshells around her. She didn't need any kind of special treatment. She'd made that clear when Bonnie died, a week ago.

"How long has she been out?" Tim asked.

"She was asleep before I got to her and Bonnie, so I don't know," Ollie answered.

"That was over twelve hours ago."

"She was exhausted."

"Hmm," Cissie muttered sleepily. Tim and Ollie looked up to see Cissie's eyes flutter open. "Dad? Tim?" She yawned.

"Hey, babe," Tim smiled and smoothed her hair with his hand.

"How did I get here?" Cissie blinked.

"I brought you here. You fell asleep in your mom's… room," Ollie answered.

Cissie was suddenly very awake. "Mom. I should be with her. How is she?"

Ollie and Tim looked at each other, asking with their eyes which of them should tell her. Ollie cleared his throat. As her father, it was up to him.

"Ciss," Ollie took her hand, "your mother passed away last night in her sleep." He paused, waiting for Cissie's reaction. "It was very peaceful. The doctors say she wasn't in any pain."

Cissie felt like she'd been punched in the gut, from the inside. This was what shock felt like. She had never experienced anything like this, not even when her school counselor had been murdered all those years ago. She stared at her father.

"Ciss?" Tim asked. "You okay?"

She turned to face her lover. "Yeah. I'm fine." She blinked. "I need a shower." She roughly threw back the covers and made a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring the worried glances Tim and Ollie were exchanging.

From then on, Cissie had thrown herself into arranging her mother's memorial service. Every flower and every word was going to be perfect, if it was the last thing she did.

She could tell that everyone was worried about her. Tim, Ollie, Connor, even Roy tried to get her to open up to them, to deal with what she was feeling inside. Didn't they get it? This was how she was dealing with it. She was thankful that they made her eat, though. She was so focused on making the day perfect that she often forgot about meals. Even when they brought her exquisite Alfred-made cuisine, though, she couldn't taste it. She couldn't taste anything. She couldn't feel anything. She was just numb.

Cissie didn't know what she was going to do after the service. There would be nothing on which to focus. Nothing to distract her. She turned to look at Tim. He gave her a little smile, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. Cissie felt the barest hint of a butterfly in her stomach. Maybe she would be able to heal after all.

***

That night, after they had interred Bonnie's ashes, faced the neverending line of condolence callers, and consumed the repast that Alfred had prepared for everyone, Tim and Cissie made their way back to Tim's apartment. Cissie had been keeping her distance from Tim, and had been sleeping in her dorm room for the past week. Tim didn't take it personally; Cissie was keeping everyone at a distance these days. He was worried, though. Cissie was one to flaunt her emotions, not bottle them up. If this had been Bruce, he wouldn't have been as worried—Batman was about as emotionally constipated as you could get. But Cissie? This was not like her at all.

The car ride had been quiet. It wasn't until they had walked up the three flights of stairs to Tim's apartment that Cissie broke the silence.

"It was nice of Jon and Bart to come to the service," she said. "Did you call them?"

Tim's mouth went dry. "Yeah. I hope you don't mind." He fumbled with the keys a little as he unlocked the door. "I knew they'd want to be there for you, though."

Cissie smiled. "No, it was nice. Thank you. For doing that."

Tim grinned and held the door open for his girlfriend. She smiled sweetly and gave him a chaste kiss before she passed through the door.

After Tim closed and locked the door, however, it was a whole other story. Cissie pinned him to the wall and kissed him senseless. He noticed a wicked grin on her face when they broke apart. "Cissie?" he blinked.

"Yes?" she purred, untucking his shirt and running her hands underneath it.

"You okay?"

"Never better." She proceeded to unbutton his shirt, glad that he'd removed the tie around dinnertime.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey," Tim grabbed her hands. "Cissie, we don't have to do anything if you don't want. You've had a rough day, today."

Cissie gave her boyfriend an incredulous look. "What about undressing you says I don't want to do anything?"

Tim blushed. "Okay, but just…You've been under a lot of stress lately and, um," he was getting distracted by Cissie unbuttoning her blouse. "Uh, I just, I don't want to take advantage…"

Cissie giggled. "Oh Timmy, you won't be taking advantage. You'll be helping me."

"H-helping?"

She nodded. "Like you said, I've been under a lot of stress lately, and you see, that gives a girl a lot of energy to burn off, wouldn't you say?"

Tim just nodded, at a complete loss for words. There was no arguing with logic like that, and besides, he really did want to help her.

***

Unfortunately, Tim was a very light sleeper. He rarely slept through the entire night. Something always woke him up. Tonight was no different. He groaned and looked at the clock. 2:30 a.m. Not that late really—most nights he would still be out on patrol at this hour, but Nightwing and Batman were covering for him tonight so he could be with Cissie.

Ah, Cissie… Tim smiled and turned to…an empty bed. He sat straight up, eyes darting around the room.

"Cissie?" he called out. No answer.

He flicked on the lamp on the nightstand, wincing at the sudden flood of light. Once his eyes adjusted, he scanned the room. Her clothes were still on the floor. He relaxed somewhat—she was probably still in the apartment, then. He got up and wandered out of the bedroom. The bathroom door was open and the light was off. No Cissie in there. No Cissie in the kitchen. No Cissie in the living room. That was when it hit him. The clothes she'd been wearing that day were on the floor, but what about…? He opened the chest in which they kept their heroing gear. There was still an Arrowette costume inside, but they always kept spares handy. Her arrow quiver, however, was gone.