Nightwing Oneshots

Robin IV

⚠️Mentions of Self Harm | Depression | Flashbacks | Mention of Death | Mental Health Struggles⚠️

Zatanna fell to her knees, sobbing hysterically as Doctor Fate vanished from the park through one of his portals. I dropped to my knees next to her and gently hugged her from behind, easing her back into a more comfortable position and whispering, "It's okay, you're gonna be okay..."

"It's not enough time, it's never enough time..." she sobbed, turning around and burying her face in my neck. 

I just rubbed her back and listened as she cried. I couldn't do much but tell her it was going to be okay. It wasn't even my dad who was Doctor Fate, yet I still felt sad about it.

Memories of my own dad began flashing through my mind, and I clenched my teeth and muttered, "Not now..."

The memories slowly dwindled away, and I sighed in relief at being spared from another PTSD attack. I had to be more careful about what I thought about.

"I'm sorry..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes and her nose with her sleeves as she sat up.

"No, it's okay," I assured her, holding her elbows as we kneeled in front of each other. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

She merely shook her head. "No, I'll be okay... I manage to get over it every year, I'll be alright in a little while..."

(TIme skip, Zatanna leaves through a portal and leaves Nightwing all alone in the park)

I sighed and sat down against a tree, staring numbly at all the birds chirping in the trees and flying around. I wished I could do more for her. I knew how tough it was to lose your father, but I was never good at comforting people. 

I glanced down at my scarred wrist. I hadn't covered it up today like I usually did; most days I felt like people would be disgusted by them if they saw them, but today I didn't really care. I wasn't planning on leaving the house until Zatanna contacted me and asked for me to go with her to see her father. Of course I agreed, but I just felt horrible that I couldn't do anything more for her to comfort her. I felt... upset, in a sense, at myself for not being able to do more for her. 

So, I did the next logical thing. I called up one of her closest friends, Artemis. 

***

When Artemis arrived at the park, we both nodded a brief hello but stayed silent for a few moments. We did this almost every time we met up, because most of the time that we did meet up, it was to discuss something important. We walked on the sidewalk before I finally forced myself to speak.

"I'm assuming you know about Zatanna's situation," I said, glancing over at her.

She sighed. "Yes, Dick, I do. Does she need anything? Is she okay?"

I shrugged half-heartedly. "I dunno. I come with her every time, but... I feel like I'm not doing enough to help her. She cries for a little bit and then leaves. I feel like I'm doing something wrong."

I noticed her gaze on my exposed arm, and I self-consciously put my hand in my pocket to cover up my scars with my body. Her eyes went back up to my face and we both came to a halt.

"I know what you're going to ask," I said, facing her.

"And I know what you were going to ask me," she said. "Listen, I'll ask Zatanna if I can go with her next time instead of you. Maybe she keeps asking you to go because she doesn't want to bother anyone else."

I looked away. "Maybe. It's probably for the best that you go, though. Her and I... we aren't very close anymore."

"I know," she said. She glanced down at my arm again. "Are you... doing okay?"

I pursed my lips and crossed my arms. "I'm fine."

She raised her eyebrows, showing that she obviously didn't believe me.

I sighed. "Trust me, I'm fine, Artemis. I'm just... still a bit off balance from what happened with Wally."

Her shoulders slumped. "So was everyone else. Listen, Dick, that was almost two years ago. And I know you don't do well with—"

"No, I don't do well with death," I cut in. "Which is why I left the team. Like I said, I'm fine. I just need some more time."

"Dick, you have had time," she said. "Two years of time. Do you need someone to talk to—?"

"No, I don't," I said, turning away. "Like I said, I'm fine."

"I don't think you are," she said, grabbing my arm and turning me back around. She flipped my wrist over and pointed at the excessive amount of scars and new cuts on my wrist. "You call this being fine? I thought you said you stopped years ago."

"I had stopped," I said. "But that was years ago, like you said. Things change, Artemis."

"I know things change, but what I'm trying to say is that this isn't good for you!" she said. "Look at your wrist, Dick. I don't even see a patch of skin that isn't scarred or cut."

I looked down at my wrist. She was right; I had overused it so much that there wasn't any skin left that hadn't been touched by my blade, but I didn't see a problem with that. I still had another wrist I could use.

"Your point being?" I questioned. "Everyone has different coping mechanisms, and this just happens to be mine."

"When will you realize this isn't good for you!?" she exclaimed. "You're hurting yourself, Dick. You need help!"

"No, I don't," I said, finally pulling my arm away from her. "Just don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal."

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-ziakalar