A/N: so um this chapter where do I start? I apologize once more because I'm relentlessly torturing Dick, Zee, and Babs. Thankfully, I'll be wrapping up this story in three or four (?) chapters or so.

well, thank you for the lovely reviews and I would absolutely adore if you would please review this chapter too? afsdfasdjfn, so onward with the story!

Zatanna buried her head in her hands. The fluorescent lighting of the hospital beat harshly on her back. Looking over to her right, she saw her father's now lifeless body resting peacefully on the bed. He'd just dropped dead, apparently. There was nothing to prevent and it wasn't expected. Giovanni Zatara looked like he was simply sleeping, but he would never open his eyes again.

"Zee?" A shadowy silhouette was barely perceivable at the door. He or she stepped out into the light, revealing a scruffy looking youth with an apologetic look on his face.

"Oh. Hi," Zatanna said. There was a tint of ice to her tone. She crossed her legs as if there was nothing wrong and her father wasn't lying next to her, dead.

Dick sighed before coming forth to rest a reassuring hand on Zatanna's shoulder. His touch was feather light, but she felt like she was about to crumble under all the pressure and stress she'd been experiencing this past week. "Listen, Zee, hear me out on this. I know that I've been…aloof these few days and—"

"Aloof? Is that the word you're using? Dick, you've been completely ignoring me for days. I would've felt better if you had simply told me that you didn't want to be around me," Zatanna chastised punitively. She turned so her back was facing him.

"I know! I've been terrible, and I know that. I should've been there for you but I wasn't. I'm sorry. I was wrong and I wasn't the person you needed…but I'm here for you now. I was dealing with some stuff, and I was too caught up in myself to realize you were hurting too. Zatanna, I'm sorry," Dick said. He placed his hand on hers.

Zatanna took a deep breath. His hand fit perfectly and it was warm. They were comforting. They felt safe…

But they were ephemeral. And Zatanna knew what she had to do.

"Dick, I know that you're sorry. And I forgive you," she bit her lip—here came the hard part, "but I need to handle things myself. I can't act all nonchalant about this, and I can't rely on a faulty promise that has a fifty percent chance of collapsing on itself. I'm sorry, too. But I can't need you anymore—I don't need you anymore."

The words hung in the air heavily. Hot tears pricked at the back of Zatanna's eyes, but she knew that she'd made the right choice. This was for her (and Dick's) benefit.

"But Zee, I—"

"There's really nothing left to say, Dick. I'm distraught about this too, and I can see that you are too. You and I both need to learn and move on from this," she whispered, eyes brimming with tears. "You should move on."

"…I guess. I'm sorry it didn't work out, Zatanna," Dick sighed heavily. "Goodnight." He stood and trod slowly to the door. Before he left, he turned around and gave her one last sad smile. "Also, you should smile, too, Zee. You deserve it more than me." Dick turned around to exit the room, leaving a melancholic Zatanna in his wake.

Dick kept his eyes on the road, yet he wasn't really seeing it. He clutched the wheel like his last lifeline. Dick wondered how someone could look so beautiful, even while they were so sad. Zatanna looked so fragile and frail back there—she looked like she could be knocked down by a meager gust of wind. But Dick knew better than to judge by outward appearances, especially when it came to Zee. Sure, she was hurting. In spite of that, she was still so strong. Maybe the wind could force her to topple over, but Zatanna would fight until she was standing upright again. She'd always stand on both her feet in the end.

It was one of that many things Dick admired and loved about her. It was also one of the things that he had let slip out of his hands, like water seeping through a crack.

Even though he would inevitably miss her sparingly, Dick wouldn't—and couldn't—bring himself to resent Zee's decision. He should have been there for her, but he wasn't. Zatanna deserved somebody better than he was. Dick respected her and her choice. It was the least he could do.

He maneuvered the car smoothly into the parking lot of the library, glancing hastily at the time. It was 6:10. He was supposed to meet Babs at around six, but Dick's head was too scattered to take notice. Walking into the quietude of the library was like plunging headfirst into an ice-cold pool; the tranquility offered a great contrast to his uproarious mind.

Babs sat up as soon as she saw him, waving a hand in salutation. Dick returned the greeting with a half-hearted smile that he didn't even bother with making it look real. He meandered over, taking a seat next to her and arranging his books on the table.

"Why are you pouty?" she inquired casually, skimming through the sizeable textbook Dick had just placed on the desk.

"Rough night," he replied curtly.

"Oh. Mind talking about it?"

"Zatanna broke up with me."

Silence.

"…Oh."

Dick kept his gaze trained on the ground. "It was my fault. I should've been there for her, but I wasn't. I wasn't there for her because…" His voice was now a whisper.

Babs relinquished her textbook onto the table and scooted closer, offering a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Dick," her voice was shaky, "after I do this, please don't hate me. I feel like I have to, and I know I'll regret this later."

"Babs, what are you—?" He was cut off effectively. Babs had pressed her lips to his in a chaste, yet deeply arousing kiss.

She pulled away, obviously abashed. (Dick couldn't decipher whether it was a good thing or bad.)

"I'm sorry." Babs hurriedly gathered her things and sped out of the library before Dick could even fathom what had just happened. His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as he followed suit, speeding out the door.

The night was freezing. Invisible icicles imbued into his skin as he shivered in search for Babs. A car whizzed by. The driver had long, auburn hair tied up chaotically into a ponytail. Dick would have noted her blue eyes as beautiful if they weren't filled with tragic tears. She was crying—sobbing, really.

Dick and Babs were very different. That night, Babs had allowed her distress to come out fully-fledged in tears and broken sobs. However, Dick made it his priority to not shed a tear. He felt that his burdens were his and only his to cope with. He didn't want anybody else to see the hurt he was going through. It was his problem.

But in the face of anguish and agony, there are some times where desperate measures were necessary. So, that night, Dick begrudgingly tolerated the salty tears that came down his face. They were sparse, but that didn't stop him from obsessively endeavoring to wipe them away before they could reach his chin.

Sometimes it didn't work, and a drop would descend and land on his leg. Whenever that happened, Dick would unclench his hand from its fist and attempted to rub the drop the tear had left. The action was in vain, of course.