121 [spam/voice]

[batmanschmatman]

[Spam for Sara, backdated to after this log.]

[After dragging himself to the infirmary and getting patched up, Dick had been pretty insistent that he just wanted to go back to his room and sleep it off there rather than being held hostage in the infirmary. So, with doctor's approval, he limped down the hall and, instead of taking the stairs up to the first floor, went right to Sara's room and knocked on the door, too tired to care if anyone else was walking through the hall and wondering why the hell he was wearing blue hospital scrubs with a Batman uniform mostly tucked under one arm, the cape trailing on the floor, and looking like he'd had the crap beaten out of him.

He was holding the boots and cowl in his good hand - the other was in a cast that hopefully wouldn't have to be on too long between magic and the tech they had on board - and after he'd knocked, he carefully moved to prop himself up against the wall to hopefully prevent falling on his ass. Getting up again from that really just sounded awful.]

[Private to Tim]

I just got my ass handed to me by Superboy, so I'm going to be passed out at Sara's for a while. But if you need me for anything, give me a ring.

[Private to Rorschach]

I'm going to be sleeping off a broken wrist and some busted ribs for the next ten or so hours, so feel free to ask Tim if you need anything in the mean time.

[Private to Cass]

[After they've both had some time to recuperate, Dick is realizing they probably need to have a discussion about the whole "Why I was wearing Dad's pajamas" thing.]

We should talk.

[Private to Babs]

I'm guessing you got an update on what happened.

[Spam for Erik]

[Most people would probably think he was a complete idiot for not kicking back and taking it easy after almost getting killed by an out of control alien, but Dick didn't really do downtime and usually started getting a little stir crazy after he'd gotten over the initial period of I just want to sleep for a week and pretend I never have to get out of bed again.

Which was why the day after it had happened, he was up and about as usual, and currently mentally swearing a little over having to balance his lunch tray with one hand. The other was in a cast in a sling to help keep it out of the way, and his ribs still hurt like hell, but it could have gone a lot worse, really, so he pushed aside the discomfort and looked around for somewhere to sit.

He spotted Erik by himself, and - potentially against his better judgment, because it wasn't like you could really just walk up to someone and ask how they were doing because their breach counterpart had really reminded you of your old inmate - he headed over to him and gestured at the seat across from him. Or, you know, as best he could while holding a lunch tray in one arm with his other in a sling.]

Do you mind if I sit here?

Comments

Spam

[psychic_hotline]

[By this time, Dean's posted about Superboy and Sara already suspects Dick has gotten dragged into something; she's considered sticking her head into the Infirmary to see if he's there but she knows that's kind of selfish and there's no need to be getting under anyone's feet. She's long since learned a level of professional respect for medical staff that a new venue won't change.

Still, she opens the door with a reasonable degree of optimism and - well. Fuck.]

...Jesus, Dick. Did somebody get the plate number?

[At least the scrubs say he went to see a doctor first, but the fact he's leaning against the wall doesn't bode well. She pulls the door open until it sticks and takes a step over the threshold.]

Let me help you in.

Spam

[batmanschmatman]

[He lets out a tired laugh.] You should see the other guy. [Which, actually, was probably a bad joke to make, because Superboy was really in pretty rough shape, from what he'd heard. Still, he kind of feels like he can't really be blamed for being at least a tiny bit flippant about this, all things considered.

He carefully pushes himself off the wall with his good hand and carefully starts moving again, not stupid enough to turn down any amount of help she was willing to give him.]

Broke my wrist and a couple ribs, could have been a lot worse. I'm pretty sure no one died.

Re: Spam

[psychic_hotline]

Pretty sure. Well, that's something. C'mon.

[She helps him into her apartment and subsequently straight into her bedroom, because she's still -1 couch and they'll be having words anyway if he wants to do anything except lay down.]

Should I be asking about the change of uniform? [Because she's seen the Nightwing getup and that...isn't it.]

Spam

[batmanschmatman]

[Laying down sounds awesome right about now, to be totally honest, so for once there's going to be no arguing about this.

And he's going to be more or less just dropping his gear on the floor - sorry - and starting to collapse onto the bed as soon as he's close enough.]

'S got more body armor. Bruce isn't as fast as me. [Which might sound braggy, but it's not. The Nightwing suit was lighter and easier to move around in, which was super useful when you were going up against a group of thugs or Deathstroke or someone, but when you were going up against a heavy hitter, you needed all the extra protection you could get. Speed alone wasn't going to cut it.]

Spam

[psychic_hotline]

[That makes sense.

Wait, no it doesn't.]

And he just left a spare in your apartment before you came here?

[She sits down on the end of the bed and leans over, picking up the cowl. She'd been wondering why he would bother with a mask but the moment she's able to handle it it becomes obvious that that's not all it is.]

[Private] text, video, then voice, it's a hot mess

[hellofist]

[Cass is still in the infirmary after Kon's little attempt at laser eye surgery, bandages wrapped around her head to cover her eyes and her hand in a cast just like Dick's was. She isn't particularly excited to be having a conversation because it's difficult when you need to see people to be able to understand them, but this is Dick. He gets a pass.

Still, she sucks at the comm even when she can see. Now? It's just a hot mess of poking buttons and hoping.]

AAFJJJJJJ

Kkdjjj

[And then the video comes on, but it's clear that was an accident. Cass' tongue is poking out the side of her mouth as she tries to figure out the comm.]

Is- Broken?

[The video ends just as quick as it came on, and all that's left is a voice feed.]

... Dick?

[Private]

[batmanschmatman]

[Voice works, although he's concerned by that quick glimpse of the bandages he got when she switched on the video feed. It's to be expected, considering what happened - even if he'd missed the actual blow because he'd been too busy fading in and out of consciousness himself - and he can't help but worry about the possibility of permanent damage, but Simon and Merlin knew what they were doing, and he knows she'll be okay.

Even if it's going to majorly, majorly suck waiting for the healing process to get over and done with.]

Hey. How are you doing?

[Private]

[hellofist]

[She takes a long moment to just listen, then sighs and there's the sound of her rubbing at the bandages, plucking at them impatiently.]

Fine. Bored. Head hurts.

[Her throat is still sore from the smoke and the strangling, voice a little rougher than normal.]

You?

[Private]

[batmanschmatman]

Pretty sore, but I'll be okay. [It could have been a lot worse. He really couldn't articulate how grateful he was that Kon hadn't been at full power, because honestly, the three of them probably would have been dead before Dean and Buffy showed up.]

Do you know how long you'll be in the infirmary?

[Private]

[hellofist]

Good. Was worried.

[She knows just how lucky they are, too. If it hadn't been for the cowl, she'd probably have been dead regardless of Kon's lowered power level. They got lucky, but it was far too close a call.]

Too long.

[peektuttut]

I heard. I'm working on making sure that never happens again.

[Hiding his concern. HIDING IT.]

You okay? [Okay but not well.]

[Private]

[batmanschmatman]

[Dick knows you're concerned, you weird little failbot. :|]

He broke my wrist and a couple ribs, so aside from getting by as a lefty for a couple weeks, I'll be fine. I told Rorschach to check in with you if he needs anything. Doubt he will, but. [Better to have a safety net in place just in case.]

How about you?

[Private]

[peektuttut]

Missed all the fun. [Dick stop getting hurt :\ But that isn't much worse than normal fare with a meta, so he can't mother hen too much.]

Do you mean to say you're not ambidextrous yet?

[Private]

[batmanschmatman]

[Man, seriously, he's just glad no one got killed, it was kind of touch and go there for a minute. :\]

Please, like I haven't been ambidextrous since I was ten.

[Private]

[peektuttut]

[Oh great :\ This is why they always keep kryptonite. Just in case.]

Then what are you complaining about?

Private

[bodilesswarrior]

Just that you, Steph and Cass were injured in the confrontation with Kon. [There's a very pointed concern to her tone.] How bad?

Private

[batmanschmatman]

Steph's a little scraped up, but she's fine, physically, anyway, Cass took a head vision blast to the face, but she was wearing her cowl and it held up to most of it, the doctor's said her vision will start coming back soon as long as she gives it time to heal, and he broke my wrist and a couple ribs, but I'm okay.

It could have been a lot worse. [Seriously, there was a very real moment where he thought they were all going to die. :|] Cass is still in the infirmary.

Private

[bodilesswarrior]

[A heat vision blast. To the face.

Barbara doesn't answer, for a moment, her face growing cold and tense. When she speaks, her voice is a bit different; very carefully level.]

I'll go down to see her.

[...And then an, after another few moments, an arched eyebrow.]

Shouldn't you be in the infirmary, or are broken bones just a minor annoyance nowadays?

[Says the woman who once swung around Gotham on a broken arm, but that was a long time ago, and she certainly wouldn't do it again if given the chance. Nope.]

Private

[batmanschmatman]

[Dick shakes his head, and his expression's somewhere between exasperated and fond.]

I'm fine. Sara's [And he still feels sort of weird saying this, even though he keeps reminding himself that she doesn't even know what their relationship had been like before Dick got to the Barge.] making sure I'm not doing anything stupid. And besides, it's not like I haven't been hurt worse before.

Go check on Cass. I bet she'd appreciate the company.

Private

[bodilesswarrior]

[It takes her a moment to make the connection. And then she smiles despite herself, just a little, because - yeah, Grayson, you have a type.] Glad to know I leave you in firm hands, then.

[It is assuring, in its way, and she supposes she means it in more than one.]

Any messages you want me to take?

[Spam]

[wecanavenge]

[There had been worse breaches. That was what Erik told himself as he made his way through a sandwich. Although it looked more like he was toying with it half the time. Eating was a methodical thing for him, sometimes: he did it because it was necessary to keep his strength up, to stay healthy and get by, not because he enjoyed it.

While he ate, he read, looking through a book on genetics; that, at least, he did seem invested in. But as Dick approached he glanced up, waiting for the other man to speak. And when he did, Erik almost refused. Almost said, we aren't comrades anymore, best not pretend it mattered. Instead, for some reason, he shrugs one shoulder, and gestures to the seat.]

Go ahead.

[Spam]

[batmanschmatman]

Thanks. [He put his food down first before carefully sitting down, doing a pretty decent job of covering up the I was punched in the chest in the same way one might be hit by a small car thing, all things considered, but he was already getting tired of needing to be careful of everything he did.

And, again, it seemed a bit weird, just going in and saying hey, you basically had the life of my former inmate during that breach and I know that shit's kinda crummy to deal with, so are you doing okay, especially considering he was basically a complete stranger, otherwise, so.

Maybe time to stick to the safer stuff.]

What are you reading?

[Spam]

[wecanavenge]

A book. [For all that it's a pissy answer, he doesn't sound particularly pissy. Erik just. Doesn't do small talk unless he's planning a murder, generally. So he stares in silence for another second, before straightening in his seat a bit.]

What do you want from me?

[Spam]

[batmanschmatman]

[For a moment, Dick considers lying, but Erik isn't a stupid guy, and he's definitely not a friendly guy, and Dick's not really interested in getting into a fight with him over digging for information or trying to be friends because they'd worked together during a breach.]

My first inmate was an undercover Massachusetts State Police detective investigating the Irish mob in Boston. I know it was just a breach, but considering I spent the better part of a year dealing with all the associated fallout that kind of lifestyle has on a person, I wanted to see if you were okay.

[Spam]

[wecanavenge]

[That wasn't precisely what he expected, and Erik's eyebrows arch just slightly. The parallels are obvious, and he imagines he can understand why Grayson would want to check in on him. But he's never been fond of having people check in on him. It rarely had good connotations.]

I have no intention of forming a drinking habit. [The Barge would break if there was more than one like Stark.] Or smoking my way through the days. I'm fine. [How...do you hold a conversation, Erik doesn't know.]