Демонические птицы-онешоты

Calming

You don't like it when things go wrong, do you?
No. You're afraid of it. When things go wrong in our work, it can mean anything. There could be one less of us. Or two. And that number will grow until we either stop trying or none of us are left.

Honey... Calm down, I beg you. Nightwing is alive. And so is Batman.

I'm not saying he's still alive. Then that would mean he might be dead soon. And I don't want to give you false hope. I say with confidence, he's alive.

We didn't arrive that long ago. Although, I slept most of the time I was here.
Do you remember how I told you about my dreams? I remember. There was ash instead of air. Mountains of corpses instead of forests. Smoke instead of clouds. And it choked me every night.

___

I screamed, but I couldn't hear my own voice. It was like I was mute, unable to call out for help while my body burned with the flames, surrounding me, keeping me from escaping. Flashes, like from a lit match, refracted light, and I woke up, and you held me tightly in your arms. Apparently I was trying to escape, feeling how strong your grip on me was. It's real, you're with me, and I realize I'm not dreaming.

You go away for a while, bringing not strong tea and forcing me to remove the stone from my soul. I tell you what I saw that night in my dreams. You don't interrupt, looking me in the eye, that I can't help but tell the truth. Even though I really wanted to keep answering that I'm fine. You're like a lie detector, I don't know how, but you know when I'm lying and you get persistent.

"We're a team. We're family. We're friends. We don't lie."

I thought you were talking about everybody in the tower, but you were just talking about the two of us. We don't lie to each other. I don't want to lie. I want you to be alive. You can't blame me for that. I should have said no.

I knew you took Nightwing with you. I knew how important it was for you to bury him with dignity. And I knew he and you were alive. Damian... at what cost?

___

I wanted to scream at you. I still want to scream. If I had the strength to do it like I used to. When my head ached without ceasing. How everything around me pissed me off, even you. I hated myself for it.

I yelled at Garfield for every ridiculous joke he made, about how I wasn't like other girls, getting mad three weeks a month and being perfectly calm the rest of the month. I yelled at Jaime for introducing Spanish into English. I hadn't even paid attention before, and then, it annoyed me. I yelled at Cory for her cooking and at Nightwing for being overprotective. At you, I was yelling at you for your total indifference.

I knew I was doing it because of the rock, not because everyone around me was doing something wrong. And they let me know that they understood that and sold me out. But still, sometimes I was out of line. After I yelled like that at the whole team once, I went back into the room and every object that came in my hand flew into the wall. I didn't want to use magic, I needed to feel it physically. How I was inept at smashing things and earning a bunch of random cuts. I couldn't stop.

And the feelings of you suddenly appearing in my room squeezing my hand as I was about to break the window. With what? I don't remember. I try to break free, this hurricane still raging inside me, and the voice in my head laughing at me, wanting to bang my head against the wall with a rock, give it such a shake that it shuts up.

You won't let me. You squeeze me to you, even though I'm against it. Like you were asking me to take your energy, your calm, sharing it with me. You knew I take away the pain when I treat the wounded. And you found the principle of the opposite, of taking others' calm when I myself have a gaping wound full of anger. I'm taking yours. No. You're giving me this. Surprisingly, you don't fall, you stay on your feet, and I can still feel your embrace, which never falters. Getting stronger and more caring.