What Dreams May Come

Maggie collapsed into the chair at her desk. Her body ached from shadow training with Constantine, the intensity of it leaving her physically drained and mentally raw. The homework waiting for her—calculus, literature analysis, and history—looked like a mountain she had no energy to climb. Still, she pushed herself to open the first textbook, determined to catch up.

"You're distracted, Maggie…"

Maggie froze, her pencil mid-scratch on the page. Her eyes darted around the room. "Not now," she muttered, recognizing the voice instantly.

"You think you can ignore me?" Lillyanna's voice was smooth and lilting, yet there was something unsettling about the way it slithered through her thoughts.

Maggie sighed, dropping her pencil and leaning back in her chair. "I'm busy. Homework. Normal teenager stuff. You wouldn't get it."

A dark chuckle echoed inside her mind. "Normal? Is that what you're holding onto? You know better now. The shadows are more a part of you than you'll admit. You felt their power, didn't you? They your lifeline. They answered when no one else could."

Maggie tensed, her fingers curling into fists in her lap. "It wasn't me. That was you—your power. I didn't ask for any of this."

Lillyanna's voice softened, almost gentle. "No, little one. It was yours—yours to wield, yours to control. You'll understand in time. There's so much more waiting for you… waiting within you."

The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to stretch and shift, tendrils reaching out as if responding to Lillyanna's presence in Maggie's mind. Maggie shook her head, pushing the voice away.

"Stop!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her breath uneven.

The shadows stilled. Lillyanna's voice retreated, though a whisper lingered. "The surface can only hold so much before it breaks."

Silence settled back over the room, heavy and stifling. Maggie exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair. She tried to focus on the open book in front of her, but the words blurred together, replaced by Lillyanna's cryptic message and the unnerving pull of the shadows.

The surface may hold… but for how long?

Maggie took a deep breath, steadying her shaking hands as she pushed Lillyanna's words to the back of her mind.

"Not now," she whispered to herself, almost pleading.She turned her attention back to the open textbook in front of her, picking up her pencil again. The familiar rhythm of solving math problems grounded her, and she clung to it desperately. Numbers were constant—logical, predictable, something she could control. Unlike the shadows. Unlike Lillyanna.

The clock on her desk ticked steadily, a reminder of the hours slipping away. Once she finished her math homework, Maggie pulled out her laptop and opened her college essay draft. Her heart sank at the blinking cursor waiting on an empty line.

"Describe a challenge that shaped you into the person you are today."

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as her mind wandered back to everything—the Joker, the coma, the shadows. Maggie bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to push the memories away.

"This isn't what they want to hear," she muttered, more to herself than anything. They expected tales of academic struggles, extracurricular success, maybe even a charitable project or two.

With a deep breath, Maggie started typing. Words came slowly at first, but she focused on the task like her life depended on it. Paragraph by paragraph, the essay began to take shape.

The weight of Lillyanna's voice still lingered at the edges of her thoughts, like a distant echo she couldn't completely silence. Every so often, her eyes flickered toward the shadows in her room, darker and deeper than they had any right to be.

But she didn't let them pull her in. Not tonight.

By the time Maggie finished typing, her body felt heavy with exhaustion. She saved her work, closed the laptop, and sat back in her chair with a sigh of relief.

"Done," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

The shadows didn't answer this time, and for a moment, the room was perfectly still. Maggie allowed herself to believe she had won this small battle. She rose, stretched her aching limbs, and starts getting ready for bed.

Maggie drifted into an uneasy sleep, the lingering exhaustion pulling her under like an anchor. At first, her dreams were a blur—flashes of familiar places, distant echoes of laughter, and fragments of thoughts she couldn't quite grasp. But the shadows soon swallowed everything, leaving behind a void.

She stood alone in a vast, dark space. The ground beneath her was cold and smooth, stretching endlessly into the distance. Her breaths came slow and shallow as an oppressive silence surrounded her.

"Where am I?" Maggie whispered, her voice barely audible.

From the darkness, a soft laugh echoed, hauntingly familiar.

"Dreams are such a fragile thing, aren't they?"

Maggie spun around, her eyes narrowing as a figure emerged from the shadows—tall, poised, and unsettlingly beautiful. It was Lillyanna. Her pale skin glowed faintly, and her dark hair spilled over her shoulders like liquid night. Her eyes, a shade of deep amethyst, gleamed with knowing mischief.

"You again," Maggie muttered, her fists clenching. "Haven't you done enough for one day?"

Lillyanna smirked, tilting her head. "Oh, Maggie, I'm not your guide. You're the one who invited me in, remember?"

"It was a matter of life or death." Maggie shot back.

The shadows beneath Lillyanna rippled like water, creeping closer to Maggie's feet. "You don't understand yet, but you will. What lies beneath the surface cannot be ignored forever."

"What does that even mean?" Maggie demanded, taking a step back.

Lillyanna's eyes softened, though there was still something unsettling in her gaze." You hide from it. The shadows are yours to command—if only you would stop fighting me."

"I don't want your shadows," Maggie snapped, her voice shaking. "I just want to be normal."

Lillyanna let out a low, melodic laugh, as if Maggie had told a joke. "Normal? Is that what you cling to? After everything you've been through, you think you can go back to being just another girl?"

Maggie's chest tightened, her pulse quickening. The shadows began to rise like smoke, curling around her ankles. "Stop it," she whispered, trying to shake them off.

Lillyanna stepped closer, her presence suffocating. "The sooner you accept who you are, the stronger you'll become. Greater threats are coming. You'll need me. You'll need this."

The shadows surged, rising up like black tendrils and wrapping around Maggie's arms and legs. She struggled against them, her breath ragged. "Let me go!"

"I'm not your prison, Maggie. I'm your power," Lillyanna said, her voice a mixture of authority and persuasion.

Before Maggie could protest, Lillyanna stepped closer, lifting her hand. The shadows surrounding Maggie surged, rising like smoke to coil around her ankles, wrists, and chest. They didn't feel oppressive this time; they felt alive—moving with purpose.

"What are you doing?" Maggie demanded, panic lacing her voice.

She extended her hand toward Maggie's forehead, her fingertips glowing faintly with a purple-black light. Maggie flinched as the glow connected with her skin. The world around her rippled, as though reality itself was tearing apart.

Suddenly, everything shifted. Maggie's feet hit solid ground. She gasped, stumbling forward, the shift disorienting. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The air was heavy—thick with smoke and ash—and the scent of burning wood stung her nose. She looked up. They were in Gotham, but it wasn't the Gotham she knew. The skyline was engulfed in flames, the distant wail of sirens echoing through the crumbling streets. The sky was an unnatural shade of red, dark clouds swirling overhead like a storm that would never pass.

"Where… am I?" Maggie whispered.

"You're in his mind," Lillyanna said softly, stepping beside her. Her tone was gentler now, almost compassionate. "This is his nightmare, Maggie."

Maggie's breath caught as her eyes landed on a lone figure in the center of the destruction. Jason. He was kneeling on cracked pavement, clutching his head as the shadows twisted and writhed around him. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling with pain.

"Jason…" Maggie's voice wavered. She started toward him, but Lillyanna caught her arm.

"Don't interfere just yet," Lillyanna said calmly. "Watch...Listen."

Maggie wanted to argue, but something about the scene held her in place. Her heart ached as she watched Jason, broken and vulnerable. The shadows crawling around him looked wrong—alive, like serpents coiling tighter around his body.

"No…" Jason's voice broke, low and anguished. "I couldn't… I couldn't save her."

Maggie froze, her blood running cold. "Save who?" she whispered.

Jason's head snapped up, and Maggie gasped. His mask was gone, revealing the raw pain in his eyes. Tears streaked his dirt-stained face as he stared at something—or someone—far in the distance. Maggie followed his gaze and felt the air leave her lungs.

It was her.

A lifeless version of herself lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. The Robin charm bracelet she had given him glittered faintly in the firelight, wrapped around her pale wrist.

Maggie staggered back. "That's… that's me."

Jason's voice cracked as he spoke, his words cutting through her like shards of glass. "I promised to protect her… and I failed." His shoulders shook as he lowered his head again, his fists pounding the pavement. "I'm not strong enough. I never was."

The shadows around him grew darker, pulling closer, feeding off his pain.

Maggie turned to Lillyanna, her voice trembling with anger. "Why are you showing me this?! He's hurting. I don't want to see this!"

Lillyanna's expression remained impassive. "Because this is the truth he hides from you—and from himself. The shadows fester when left unchecked. His fear, his guilt—they consume him. But you can reach him. You can pull him out, Maggie."

Maggie turned back to Jason, her chest aching. His ragged breathing and broken whispers echoed in her ears. "I promised… I promised…"

Her resolve hardened. "Let me go to him."

Lillyanna gave her a small nod, the shadows around Maggie loosening their grip. "Then go. But remember—fear is powerful. If you let it consume you, it will consume him, too."

Maggie didn't hesitate. She sprinted forward, the smoke and shadows parting for her as if they recognized her. She dropped to her knees in front of Jason, reaching out to him.

"Jason," she said softly, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. "Look at me."

Jason flinched, like he didn't believe she was real. Slowly, he lifted his head, his wide, haunted eyes meeting hers. "Maggie? No… you're not here. You're—" His voice broke. "You're gone."

"I'm not gone," Maggie said firmly, reaching out to cup his face. "I'm here. Look at me, Jay. It's just a dream."

The shadows hissed around them, angry at her intrusion, but Maggie didn't let go. She held onto him, her thumbs brushing the tears from his face.

"You didn't fail me," she said softly. "You saved me. You always save me."

Jason's breathing slowed, his trembling easing under her touch. The shadows hesitated, as if confused, retreating slightly.

"Please, Jason," Maggie whispered, leaning closer. "Come back. Don't let this place keep you."

Jason stared into her eyes, his expression softening as if seeing light in the darkness for the first time. His hands lifted to grasp hers, holding on tightly. "Maggie…"

The shadows roared, surging forward one last time to pull Jason back—but Maggie wouldn't let go.

"No!" Maggie screamed, her determination blazing. "You can't have him!"

The darkness exploded outward in a pulse of light. The shadows shattered like glass, the fire and smoke dissolving into nothingness. Jason's dream began to fade, leaving only a quiet, star-filled void.

Maggie jolted awake in her bed, gasping for air, her heart hammering in her chest. The room was dark and silent, save for the faint glow of the moon outside her window. She rubbed her eyes, feeling the dampness of tears she hadn't realized were there.

She looked toward her phone on the nightstand, hesitating for only a moment before picking it up. Without thinking, she sent Jason a quick text:

"Hey… you okay?"

Her phone buzzed in her hand, the sound startling in the quiet. She fumbled with it and read his reply:

"Yeah. Why?"

Maggie hesitated, her fingers trembling as she typed.

"I just… had a weird dream. Felt like something was wrong."

This time, Jason's response came quicker.

"You've got a sixth sense now or something? I'm fine, Mags. Just tired."

She knew him well enough to recognize when he was brushing something off. Maybe he wasn't awake enough to remember—or maybe he did remember, and he didn't want to talk about it.

She sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. She considered pressing him further but stopped. Instead, she typed:

"Okay, Jay. Talk to you tomorrow?"

The dots on the screen blinked for a few seconds before his response appeared.

"Night, Mags."

Maggie set her phone back on the nightstand, lying back down as her heart began to settle. She stared at the ceiling, Jason's dream still fresh in her mind—the shadows, the fire, the anguish in his voice.

The next morning, the smell of coffee and freshly made waffles filled the air as Maggie trudged into the dining room. The sunlight streaming through the windows felt too bright, and the world around her too loud for how little sleep she'd gotten. Her eyes were shadowed, her movements slow as she collapsed into her usual seat.

Alfred, always observant, placed a cup of tea in front of her instead of coffee. "You look as though you battled a dragon in your dreams, Miss Maggie."

"Something like that," she muttered, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. Her voice carried that slight edge of exhaustion, though she tried to mask it with a faint smile. "Thanks, Alfred."

Across the table, Jason sat slouched in his chair, already halfway through his breakfast. He looked better than she felt—calm, tired maybe, but far less rattled. His hair was a mess, his usual devil-may-care grin ghosting across his face as he tore into his waffles like they owed him money.

Maggie's eyes lingered on him,longer than necessary.

"So," Maggie began, reaching for a piece of toast, her voice casual but her gaze sharp. "How'd you sleep last night?"

Jason didn't even look up as he muttered through a mouthful of waffle, "Fine. Why?"

"Just fine?" Maggie pressed, keeping her tone light. "You didn't, I don't know, have any weird dreams? Nightmares?"

At that, Jason froze—just for half a second, but Maggie noticed it. He quickly recovered, chasing the moment with a sip of orange juice. "Nah," he said, too nonchalantly. "Why? Did you have some kind of scary dream?"

Maggie hesitated, pushing her food around her plate. "Yeah… something like that." She glanced at him again. "It just felt… weird. That's all."

Jason's eyes flicked up, meeting hers for a moment before looking back down at his plate. "Well, you've been hanging out with Constantine too much. Bet all that shadow talk is getting in your head."

"Maybe," Maggie replied softly, her brow furrowing. "But… are you sure you didn't dream anything? Like… anything at all?"

Jason set his fork down with a faint clink, leaning back in his chair. "Okay, what's with the third degree?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "You look like you didn't sleep at all, and now you're grilling me over my REM cycle."

"I'm not grilling you!" Maggie shot back, a little too quickly. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "… never mind."

Jason studied her for a moment, his usual smirk faltering. "You're acting weird, Mags.

Maggie shot him a glare, her exhaustion bubbling to the surface. "Oh, so now I'm weird?"

Jason raised an eyebrow, unbothered by her tone. "I didn't say you're weird. I said you're acting weird. Big difference."

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sure, Jay, let's split hairs. Clearly, I'm the one acting weird because I actually care about you not being mauled by nightmares."

Jason blinked, caught off guard. "Nightmares? What are you even talking about?"

"Forget it," Maggie snapped, pushing back her chair with a sharp scrape against the floor. "You wouldn't get it." She stormed out of the dining room, her footsteps echoing through the hall.

As she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with someone. Maggie stumbled back, blinking up at the figure in front of her. "Watch it," she muttered.

John Constantine stood there, his usual trench coat hanging loosely over his shoulders, his expression unfazed as he glanced down at her with a smirk. "Good morning to you too, love." He sidestepped her as she brushed past, muttering something under her breath.

Constantine entered the dining room, hands shoved into his coat pockets. His sharp eyes flicked between Jason, who sat scowling at his now-cold waffles, and Alfred, who was calmly refilling a cup of tea.

"Don't mind me, gentlemen," Constantine said breezily, snatching a mug from the cabinet and holding it out for Alfred. "Just here for a cup of your coffee. Best in the bloody world, if I'm honest."

Alfred gave him an unimpressed glance but filled the mug without a word.

Jason stabbed at his food, eyes narrowing as he looked at Constantine. "What do you want?"

Constantine took a sip of coffee, sighing like a man who'd been gifted eternal life. "Nothing from you, mate. I just walked in and caught the tail end of some teenage drama. What's eating her?"

Jason leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "No idea. She's acting weird, though. Kept asking about dreams."

Constantine raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. "Dreams, you say?" He glanced toward the hall where Maggie had disappeared, a thoughtful gleam in his eye. "Well, well… that's interesting."

Alfred cleared his throat, his tone politely stern. "Master Constantine, might I remind you that prying into Miss Maggie's affairs is neither welcome nor helpful?"

Constantine smirked, tipping his mug toward Alfred in mock salute. "Not prying, Alfred. Just curious. Dreams have a funny way of… meaning something." He took another sip of coffee and added, almost to himself, "Especially when shadows are involved."

Jason's frown deepened. "What does that mean?"

Constantine shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing you need to worry your little Robin head about. I'll leave you to your waffles."

Jason shot him a glare but didn't push further. Constantine, however, quietly watched the hall where Maggie had disappeared, his smile fading just slightly.

"Dreams, huh?" he murmured under his breath, before taking another long sip of Alfred's coffee.