Gotham cemetery was a dark lonely place no matter what time of the day it was visited. The gloomy clouds of sorrow hung over it permanently and the tombstones gave a haunting impression of death lurking in the shadows.

The rays of the sun were almost faded, hiding behind the dark clouds that swam above and a deathly silence gripped the place, with ravens occasionally breaking it with their cawing.

Barbara hugged her jacket closer to herself because a chilly breeze was blowing, the cold almost seeping into her bones. Neal was right beside her, his face pale white as he braced himself for the sight that was about to come up in front of him very soon. 

They came to a halt in front of a newly erected tombstone on which an epitaph was inscribed:

Dianne Harris

1983-2009

A sincere friend, taken from us too soon.

His ocher irises took in the grey stone erected in front of him, Barbara was standing right beside him, silence engulfing both of them. He bent down and placed the wreath of white roses against the tombstone. And though he was silent, his heart had sent out a prayer for her, hoping that she was in a much better place than the cruel world they all lived in.

Barbara's hand gently closed onto his shoulders and he looked up to see her. She nodded as if to let him know that she understood and was going to be right beside him through everything. She knew Dianne was a close friend to him and her death had affected him a lot, so she wanted him to know that she wouldn't question him about it but would stay by him as a firm support.

At last, he stood up as well and gently entwined his hand through Barbara's, his palms were icy cold in her warm hands and she reassuringly took both his hands in her own.

"Thank you for coming with me," Neal spoke up, "I don't know if I would have had the strength to come here by myself."

"Hey, you don't have to thank me. I wanted to pay my last respects to her too," her green eyes flickered towards the tombstone, "I might not have known her personally but it requires a lot of strength to do what she did."

He nodded, "she was always like that... Bold, courageous and... And yet too caring underneath the tough exterior she kept on herself."

The walk back to Barbara's car was silent but the heaviness was gone because to Neal, it seemed as if a burden had lifted off him. And though he knew Dianne's death was unfair, at that moment it seemed as if he had reached a sense of closure.

If she hadn't died but survived with some lingering ailment that would have been far worse, as he could clearly tell by his own experience.

Barbara took the driving seat and started the engine while Neal got in from the passenger seat. She backed the car out and drove off away from that part of the city and into the more densely populated areas.

"Neal, you can tell me about her if you want to," Barbara spoke up, breaking the silence between them, "how did you meet her, how she used to be...?"

A soft sad smile crept up on his features, "she was exactly like how you presumed me to be, the first time we had met."

"Oh. The time when I was too judgmental to look past facades?"

"Yeah," he rested his head back, the memories striking him as he recounted his time with her, "Dianne was a performer. I met her for the first time in the nightclub I used to sing at. After I was diagnosed, I couldn't keep up my mechanic job any longer so I had to look for other options. And Elliot told me I should try my luck at singing."

She had driven to the drive-through of the same coffee shop where she had brought him almost a year ago when she had to ask him about the gatherings at West End. The two cappuccinos were ordered just like the last time and she handed him a cup, keeping the other for herself and drove ahead to the parking space. 

The warmth exuding from the cup felt rather soothing as Neal's fingers closed over it and he tentatively took a gulp, the hot liquid rushing down his throat seemed to have awakened his otherwise numbing senses.

"From then onwards, I began to sing in that club and usually it was a solo performance. Until one day Dianne was in the audience and unknown to me, I was singing her favorite song; Masquerade by the Backstreet Boys," the nostalgia was evident from his tone as he resumed, "she joined me up on stage and for a second I was uncertain of what she was going to do. But then my solo performance became a duet for that night. Our audience loved it and we sang a lot of duets together from then onwards."

He tilted his head to look at her but she smiled softly, encouraging him to resume.

"Her voice was one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard. I won't say it was flawless, in fact, the rawness in her tune and the pure emotion in it was what made it so unique... So perfect. She was always quick to form friends and despite what people thought of her, she was very caring and very sincere to all those she considered her friends. The best thing about her was her honesty. She didn't judge people and didn't care if she got judged. You could say she was the one who played a vital part in making me become the Neal Hastings Gotham city knows me as."

Their coffee cups were both empty by then but Barbara was listening closely to each word he spoke. It was almost as if his voice used to work a spell on her and she could listen to him speak for ages, that smooth velvety tone that she so loved to hear.

"Just like her, I abandoned caring about what people thought of me. And Barbara, the sort of freedom it gives when you are not tied to any validation, when you don't have to account for whatever you do to other people... It's intoxicating... She taught me how to live like that and I still feel grateful to her for that. For that and for so much more... One night, Robin had turned up at my house with Sarah who could have been injured terribly if not for him."

Barbara realized he was talking about the night Jason had told her about and she had been confused as to why would he take a child to Neal's in the first place. "I remember, Robin had told me first when you were not at home but then he spotted you and said the problem was solved."

"Yeah. I was with Dianne that night and I thought she would be angry to see Sarah there and to see that I was giving the child priority over her. But that wasn't the case. She stayed and befriended Sarah as well. She was a great help that night, I wasn't sure how I would deal with Sarah because the girl was terrified but Dianne helped a lot."

"That was very sweet of her."

He nodded, the nostalgic smile evident on his face, "there were very rare times when she let her sweetness show. She would have objected to your statement passionately if she were here."

If she were here... The words rang in his head again and he sighed, ocher eyes almost tearing up from sadness.

But then a shadow crossed his face recalling her very last moments with him. The way she was clutching at her stomach where so many knives had been stabbed into her painfully, the tears rolling down her cheeks and her dark eyes screaming in pain yet the laughter never ceasing due to the toxin Joker had given to the hostages.

"And she was in so much pain when I found her that day at my doorstep... Her beautiful voice that I loved to hear sing alongside me was breaking and that laughter... That painful helpless laughter..." He had closed his eyes, a shudder passing through him for it was all flashing in his memory as clearly as if he had gone back to that time, "I won't ever be able to erase that scene from my mind. It was... It was terrifying..."

Barbara placed her hand on top of his, fingers brushing delicately over his knuckles that had gone white as he clenched his hand into a fist. But feeling her fingers on top, he turned his hand from underneath her, interlacing their fingers together.

He could no longer resume with all he was telling her and his face had gone a deathly pale, recalling the events of the day one by one. Him and Barbara waiting in the corridor outside the OT, the doctor informing him of Dianne's death and last but not least, him standing beside her corpse in the post-mortem room watching his own greatest fear solidify in front of him.

She died young and was in tremendous pain before doing so. She died in a hospital with no one other than him to mourn for her. And right then, she was laying six feet under in her grave that they had just visited.

Maybe a couple of years later, or maybe months, even weeks or days for he was never certain... Maybe Barbara would have to go through the exact same situation. The only difference would be that instead of Dianne, it would be his own self.

Barbara realized immediately what was going through his head and she cupped his face in between her palms, making him look at her. His beautiful ocher irises had jade flecks within them that were right then so welled up with sorrow and pain.

"Neal, we can't change what has happened... But we can hope for a better future, can't we?"

"I don't even know if there is a future..."

But she did not let him complete the sentence because she knew already what he was going to say and hearing it from him would hurt. So she gently captured his lips with her own, kissing him softly. And as the kiss deepened, he felt himself relax, all the worries that had taken hold of him not even moments before began to loosen their hold one by one.

"Look here," she spoke as she reluctantly broke off the kiss for she knew he would get out of breath if she didn't, "both of us live very unpredictable lives. But as long as we are together, that's all that matters."

He nodded letting her words sink in, "as long as we're together..."

"Yes and I will be with you till the very end, as you would be with me. I promise."

His ocher eyes flickered in admiration and gratitude and he leaned forward, kissing her cheek. "Thank you so much, sweetheart. I'm glad I have you."

Her features had softened in adoration as well and she nodded, "I'm glad I have you too."

***