Chapter Thirty

Okay, Zatanna knew she should have left by now. When Dick had texted her to tell him some villain was going to keep him out for who knows how long, she should have just accepted that and tried again another day.

That would have been the normal thing to do, considering it was already almost midnight when she got that text. She should have turned around from his front door and headed home, then come back tomorrow.

Instead, for some reason, she had stayed. She’d like to say she had a logical reason for it. A conclusion reached through careful consideration of the facts she had, to decide to stay and support Dick because she thought he needed it.

She even would have settled for an emotional reason. A rush of affection or concern that made her stay despite social norms, to wait for him because she simply wanted to see him and make sure he was alright.

Unfortunately, while both of those were there to a small degree, neither were why she had stayed. The real reason was a little something that she really really hated getting.

Intuition.

When you were so integrally tied to magic, when you were in-tune with it as very few people in the world were able to be, then sometimes things got… odd. The channel could open itself to offer something without being asked, on the rare occasion.

It wasn’t a common thing. It’d only happened maybe half a dozen times in her life. But each of those times, when she listened, it had turned out to be important in some way. It wasn’t like the visions she had been able to call through spells in the past, where she would get clear images of what was to come, provided nothing changed.

It was more like an instinctual feeling, deep in the very essence of her being, which told her to either go somewhere, say something, do something, or in this case, stay right the fuck where she was. But it didn’t offer any explanation.

When it happened last time, she had sought out other magical experts and asked, to try and understand what it was. All of them had said they had the same experience, though usually less prominent than her own. The only bit of extra information she’d gotten was from John Constantine, which meant it offered absolutely zero understanding, but was unfortunately likely to be reliable.

He’d simply said that sometimes the universe will grab those who can hear it, and make sure that key events happen the way it wants, or are prevented from coming to pass.

Which was why, when Zatanna had found herself absolutely loathe to move from her spot outside Dick’s apartment door, she hated every single part of it.

It was also why she dreaded the moment that she heard several thuds and then a crash from inside, and that feeling let her move now. She could leave, in theory. Except, if she did, she wouldn’t be Zatanna Zatara, because every part of her said to break in and check on the noise.

“.kcolnU” She curtly said, the spell weaving through the complicated locks and deeper security measures. She’d have to apologise to Dick later, since she probably just disabled half of his security system by accident.

She reached out to the door knob right as a jaunty whistle echoed down the hallway. Zatanna turned her head to see Harley Quinn turn the corner, her pigtails bouncing.

The blonde’s steps halted at the sight of her, and she tipped her head a little to the side with a confused smile, “Uh…Whatcha’ doin? I thought ya and Dickie were gonna be meeting, like, a couple hours ago?”

Zatanna nodded with a frown, and quickly said, “We were. Some villain caused him trouble so he couldn’t show. Now, I just heard crashing inside. Are you going to try and stop me?”

Harley’s expression jumped from confusion, to worry, to concern, and then to focused intent, all in a matter of seconds. “Depends on which villain.”

“I think he called them a Scarecrow?”

Zatanna didn’t need any more words from Harley then. The sheer panic that flooded her features was plenty justification to act.

She pushed the door open, and strode inside with Harley on her heels. They only made it a few steps before stopping short and staring in horror as the front door slowly closed behind them.

Dick was shuddering on the ground, curled into a ball, clinging his knees to his chest tightly. As they watched, he twitched silently. His entire form was wracked with tension, coiling and uncoiling constantly, relentlessly. His lips parted every so often, forming words that neither of them could quite read. Red lines marked where he had torn the mask from his face without removing the glue he used first, and he was still in his suit, though a small glass vial that he must have been holding originally was now buried in his palm, tearing the glove.

Zatanna turned on Harley and asked sharply, “You know whatever is wrong with him. Can you tell me? I need to know what kind of poison it is, or I can’t make the right spell work.”

“It ain’t a poison.” The blonde grimaced. “‘least, I don’t think so. Scarecrow makes these things, toxins or gasses or whatever, which bring ya worst fears ta’ life, make ya hallucinate ‘em. Problem is, he’s constantly makin’ new ones, and the transmission vector is different all tha’ time. Could be blood, air, touch, anythin’.”

Zatanna turned back to Dick slowly, and said with dread, “You’re telling me he’s seeing his worst nightmares, and we have no way to cure this?”

“I mean, he might do? ‘Crow makes new ones because the Bats get immune to old ones, but, I dunno. He’s not-”

“Then Batman would have it. I’ll contact-”

“No!” Harley interjected, and Zatanna flinched from the sudden urgency. The blonde had the decency to look apologetic as she explained, “Dick, he don’t want the Bats around, he-. They- They ain’t on good terms, ‘kay?”

“Not on- But they’re his fami-” Zatanna cut herself off, “Not right now. Focus. If not Batman, then who? I have no way to cure this, and I can’t hold him for who knows how long on my own. Who can I call in to help?”

Harley met her eyes without answering. Their cerulean depths were a deep well of sympathy and sorrow, sharing a wordless answer. One Zatanna couldn’t believe. Didn’t want to believe. “Surely, there’s someone he approved? Someone that he’s mentioned to ask for help?”

The blonde sadly shook her, and a hint of moisture was growing in her eyes, matching the hint of disbelief that filled Zatanna’s voice, “One person, there’s got to be. It’s Nightwing- It’s Dick! How-”

The raven-haired magician cut off as Dick whimpered loudly on the floor, and her voice cracked from the emotion in her throat. She knew Dick was struggling, but this? That there wasn’t even one person he wanted to come and save him if he was in trouble?

That was the moment she made a decision.

Dick was the brightest hero she had ever known. The greatest, the kindest, the noblest. More than that, he was the best man she had ever met.

She didn’t need to know what had happened that left him so alone. She didn’t need to know what had him whimpering that heart-wrenching noise and curling on the ground shaking violently. Because as far as she was concerned, there was nothing he had done wrong, and more importantly? He deserved better than this.

So now? Even if she had to **** him to let her in, she was going to be there. Whether that meant helping in emergencies, or helping protect the city, or just being his friend, she would be there.

And if it meant standing between him and every single motherfucker who thought they could abandon Dick Grayson after all that he’s done for them? She’d gladly grab a pair of heels to stand a little taller in the way.

She swallowed roughly, and said, “So… there’s nobody-”

A knock sounded on the door, only for it to swing open under the impact.

Zatanna took in the sight of her old teenaged teammates, Donna and Kory flanking Barbara in her wheelchair. The three of them took in the sight of Zatanna and Harley stood over a curled up and whimpering Dick, now pressed into the corner where the kitchen counter ended and met the wall.

Harley’s hissed curse quite aptly summarised the moment, “Shit.”