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Dinah Lance blondecanary
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Room 312, Wedsnesday night, late
Dinah's dream started as they always did: sliding from sleep to gray tumbling lack of form, and then, into the hyper-real dreamscape where Barbara was working on the Delphi Circuit. Barbara tapped away, and the screens cleared into blue-green swirls, and Dinah saw--

--her mom and herself at her fifth birthday party, the last one they had together, with sparklers above the candles on her cake. "Blow out the candles, sweetheart. Make a wish." 18-year-old Dinah blew out the candles with the five-year-old little girl, and they grinned at each other.

"Smile, girls!" Daddy was there (adult Dinah staring while little Dinah squealed) holding up a camera. "It's your big day--"

(somewhere a warehouse exploded, and Dinah screamed, and then turned away, denying the reality)

--and suddenly the whole family was at the beach, having a picnic, Mom, Dad, little Dinah. And Today's Dinah was scanning the horizon. Looking for trouble. It had to be there. The was no way this wasn't a trick, a trap, a (dream)

If you dream it, they will come. The voice was quiet, calm, and certain. Dinah almost mistook it for Barbara's voice, it was so sure.

"Have some lemonade, kid. And tell us about Gotham University," her dad said, holding out a bottle.

It was the afternoon she never got, one that she'd dreamed of for years, and gave up on when she got to New Gotham. She'd gotten a family. Just... not this one.

-- the picture changed again, back to the Clocktower. Waking up on the couch. Looking over at Barbara.

She smiled at her, a little sadly. "Keep dreaming, Dinah."

And she did.

When she finally woke up, way too early, she stayed in bed, eyes shut tight, remembering every single detail as clearly as she could.