IC Inbox + Friendr

[fingerstripes]

Voicemail

"You know what to do."


Friendr

	Friendr
«		»
	» Age: 23 » Seeking: Friends, running partners, anyone interested in getting out and seeing the world. » Preferences: any » Interests: trapeze, martial arts, breakfast foods » Bio: Let’s get to know each other. See what we might have in common.
	base code by photosynthesis
	Dick Grayson
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Comments

WAILS

[fingerstripes]

[ There's no one else with access to the house who would know where to look for the batarangs, so his first, reflexive thought is that the blood is Damian's. For a too-long moment he's frozen in place, because all he sees in the blood stained bedding is Damian's small body torn apart. Staked to a rooftop. Bludgeoned with a baseball bar. A crow bar. He can't breathe.

He's gotten complacent. He's been selfish, he knows he has, and now someone's reached into his heart and pulled out the thing he should have been protecting above everything, everything else. Now Damian is the one paying for it.

And that snaps him out of it. There might be minutes. Seconds left. The evidence gloves come on swiftly, mechanically, and Dick does a cursory survey of the room. Then he does another, slowing a little, convinced he's moving too fast. That he's out of practice, after months away from Bludhaven. That the blind terror hooked into his gut is warping what he's seeing.

Or maybe, maybe it's not.

His hands fumble for his phone. It's a last resort. A risk to a hostage when the odds of them having control over it are nil.

But it's information either way. He needs that piece now. ]

Robin. [ His voice his tight. It's not Damian he's expecting on the other end. ]

...Robin, pick up. [ Please. ]