Nightwing: Heartless

Part 65: Confrontation

Willa always wore socks now, especially when she was alone at home. Laurel said it's just another coping mechanism, how she was always cold, it was a way for Willa to get control. She hopped into her other sock as a knock at the door brought her out of her bedroom.

She grabbed the baseball bat she kept by the door and looked through the peephole. She opened the door and put the bat down, "Dick?" He was soaked from the rain outside, in a light jacket and jeans, hair a mess and bruises around his nose and on his jaw. "What-"

"-I need you to tell me the truth." He fixed her with his stare, but there was no lighthearted fun in them now. She moved to let him in.

"How do you know where I live?"

He took in the space and she saw him note the exits and the baseball bat leaned on the wall behind her. "I hacked Bruce's files," he answered.

She blinked, taken aback, and crossed her arms. "That's an invasion of privacy."

He looked at her again, "you were in a car accident two months ago."

Willa tensed, instinctively moving to hold her wrist. He noticed and ran a hand through his hair, clenching his jaw. "I did," she finally said. Where was this coming from? Why did he look so frazzled?

"Except you didn't," Dick snapped. Willa took a step back at the sharp tone. Dick took it all in and his face softened, "how did you hurt you wrist, Will?" His voice was softer now but still filled with urgency.

Willa waved a hand in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner, "a car accident," and walked past Dick to her kitchen.

He didn't fall for it, he saw right through her lie and caught her elbow as she passed. Willa flinched at the sudden touch. She saw the hurt flash across Dick's face as he withdrew his hand. They stood like that awkwardly, Willa looking at the ground and Dick waiting for Willa to say something. "I'm sorry," she said reflexively. It seemed to hurt him even more.

"Are you afraid of me?" He whispered.

Willa sighed and pressed a hand to her temple, "no." She thought it was true but the way Dick looked at her... he wasn't so easily convinced. "I'm just confused," she said. "Why are you here?"

"Because it wasn't a car accident." He used the same voice everyone else did, like she was made of glass, a spooked anima, capable of breaking at any moment. Hell, maybe she was.

"Yes, it was!" She exclaimed, "and I would appreciate it if you stopped bringing it up."

"Will, please look at me." She finally met his eyes again. "What happened?"

He reached for her but she backed away, "don't." He stopped. "Just don't."

"Please, just tell me-"

"I can't!"

He closed the distance between them, "yes, you can." She pressed her hands to her eyes, why couldn't he just leave her alone?! "Will-"

"Why can't you just leave like you always do?!" He stepped back like she had struck him but she couldn't bring herself to care. "You just push and push," she continued, "and then you disappear when I need you!" She couldn't stop her anger now. She had spent so long pushing it down, too consumed with pain and emptiness she had thought she didn't have any anger. "You want to know what happened? I needed you and you weren't there. Again."

Dick set his jaw but didn't back away. She was chest to chest with him, her head coming to his chin. "What happened?" He asked again, his voice a rasp.

"Why do you care?" She scoffed.

Now his eyes darkened, "why would I ever stop caring?"

"Stop it!" She shoved him back. He let her. "Stop pretending-"

"I'm not pretending."

"Then where were you?" She hit his chest with both her hands but didn't shove him. Her hands shook. Her anger bubbled over the surface and everything she had pushed down, every thought she had ignored, every emotion she had felt guilty for couldn't be held back anymore. "Where were you, huh? Being a big superhero, saving everyone except me! You say you care, even love me, but it's all bullshit," she practically spit. "For months, you didn't love me, you didn't even notice, didn't care!" She hit his chest again. "You went on with your life! Your glamorous life with adoring fans and a rich daddy, content with how noble you are and didn't spare a second thought for me." She brought both fists to his chest. Her whole body shook, with anger instead of fear for the first time as hot, angry tears fell and she stopped hitting him.

He gently wrapped his hands around her wrists but she growled and jerked back, hugging her wrists to her chest, "don't touch me!"

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry doesn't cut it." She saw how every sentence sliced at him, hurt him, but she didn't care. She was always the one hurting and she was tired of it, "Sorry doesn't erase the last year or make me feel better or rewrite time so I never met you!"

Dick looked away, pain laced through his whole body. It was what he was afraid of and Willa knew it. Her chest hurt at his expression, ashamed with herself, but it didn't make it less true, as awful as that was. She flinched again when he stepped closer to her, replaying what would happen if she yelled at Deathstroke. But Dick wasn't Deathstroke, she thought, over and over. He wouldn't hurt her, even if she yelled at him.

Dick stood in front of her, a breath away, but didn't touch her. "I'm so sorry," he said again, his voice breaking, "if I could take it back, if I could take your pain, take your place..."

And then she crumbled, her anger finally fading, because it wasn't his fault, not truly. It was no one's but the people who hurt her. She had imagined so many times Dick coming to save her when she was in that cell, had prayed for someone to notice she was gone, but no one came. And that made her so angry, but it made her more sad. Because she had also made her choice. When she dated Dick, when she fell in love with him, when she refused Deathstroke what he wanted and protected him.

She fell against Dick, letting him hold her up, hold her close as she cried. She realized he was crying too. It was so good to have him support her, take some of her burden, but it also crushed her. "You weren't supposed to know," she said into his chest. She felt him freeze. "I was supposed to die and you were never supposed to know."

Dick took her face with both his hands and gently brought her up to look at him. His eyes were a brilliant blue, glassy from his own tears for Willa. "You were never supposed to die, Willa. You were meant to have a beautiful life, uncomplicated and free from pain."

She could see part of her burden, her secret and pain, shift to him, darken him. She closed her eyes at the thought, what her life would have been like if she had never met Dick. Her life with her friends and family, pursuing a career. It was all too tangled, her life with Dick's, all the possibilities.

"It's not your fault," she breathed out, "I said awful things and I still feel them but it's not your fault." She felt Dick suck in a breath and gently stroke the back of her hair, still hugging her close. "I protected you, though." She looked up to him and her voice broke, "I never told him anything, I-" she couldn't go on as the memories overwhelmed her.

Her knees buckled and Dick bent with her, supporting her body and drawing her into his lap. She felt his tears fall on her cheek as he rocked her. "I was meant to protect you," he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Willa."

She accepted his apology and let him rock her soothingly until they both cried themselves out and Willa grew tired. He stood and carried her to her bed, tucking her in and kissing her forehead. He thought she was asleep when he did it but she let him think that.

"Thank you," he whispered against her skin then closed her bedroom door behind him. She was sure he would be on her couch in the morning, bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, like her guard.