Bluejay: The Protégé of Black Canary

The Nightmare before Christmas

Jackie

I groaned, my fuzzy brain slowly waking. My sore limbs screamed at me as I shifted from my slouched position, my back aching and my arms bruised from the fight on Santa Prisca.

"Jackie."

I briefly registered a gentle hand push my tangled mess of hair out of my face. I awoke with a gasp, my head snapping up to look at my dad. A surge of hope lit inside of me, only to be deflated once I saw he was still sound asleep. Dad looked the same as he had before I'd fallen asleep at his bedside; oxygen mask, IV, monitors stuck to his temples. Only this time, a green Christmas blanket was snuggled up to my dad's chest, and a vase of bright red poinsettias was on a nearby table. Dinah or one of my friends must have brought them while I was sleeping.

"Sorry, it's just me." Dick said apologetically.

He wasn't wearing his sunglasses- something that dazzled me into stupidity. But I tried to play it off like I was still waking up from sleeping in a stiff chair. Dick took the seat next to mine, a warm plate of food in his hands. My heart nearly melted as I realized it was for me. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stretched my arms, noticing the weight on my shoulders for the first time. Upon closer inspection, I noticed it was Dick's jacket. Another burst of warmth grew inside my ribcage.

"No, no, don't be sorry- what are you wearing?" I giggled.

Dick's cheeks turned pink as he looked down at his monstrosity of a sweater. A cartoon reindeer was on it, covered, lights, shiny foil, and just about any other decoration you could think of. He grinned as I flicked one of the pom-poms.

"M'gann was my secret Santa." He explained. "But what am I supposed to do? Not wear it?"

I laughed, something that made him smile proudly. I took another glance at my dad, just a few feet away from me. My intentions were to stay up all night to watch him, but it appeared my own exhaustion from the day before had won out.

"What time is it?"

Dick nudged the plate of food towards me, offering me the fork with a flourish.

"Lunchtime. We saved you a plate of Christmas waffles." He told me.

The waffles were green, and were covered in a generous amount of whipped cream and strawberries. I gave him a weak smile and picked up the fork, halfheartedly nudging around a piece of fruit.

"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry." I slipped my arms through the jacket he had lent me, pulling it tighter around my body.

The doctors reported that my dad was stable, and was on schedule to wake up any day now. That piece of news set me up and over the moon. I was going to talk to my dad for the first time in over six months. I'd be able to hug him. I'd be able to introduce him to Dinah, Dick, and all of my friends. But as excited as I was to see him, I couldn't dismiss the nauseating bricks of nerves that seemed to weight me down. What if the doctors are wrong?

"You haven't left this room for hours. You should eat something." Dick encouraged kindly.

His concern made me feel guilty. I gave a long sigh, nodded and picked up the fork again. I cut into the waffle, my motions thoughtless and automatic as my brain ran a million miles an hour.

"How are you feeling?" Dick asked.

I watched the monitor next to the bed, drinking in the displayed information; my father's heart rate, his blood pressure, his O2 saturation, and his respiration rate. A sickening scenario flashed through my head: the wavelengths going flat and my dad's breathing stilled. I'd scream for a doctor while I fruitlessly tried to revive him. I banished it from my head the moment it came. No, if something like that were to happen, my freaky metagene power would sense it. I was sure of it.