batmanschmatman | 013 [video]

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013 [video]

[Dick is wandering around the house, which is a nice, normal looking place. He's particularly focusing on the family photos and any other traces of the people who apparently really live here who happen to look... just like him and some other Barge people. Including apparently Wally. And Tim. Who are both the wrong ages.]

I'm still in the "this could be worse" stage, but not gonna lie, this is pretty freaky. I think I'm a cop. And maybe ten years older.

So, guess we should have a sound off? Who else is totally wigging out a little over this?

... And anyone seen Wally? I think he's [Dear god this is so weird.] my kid.

[Private to Costigan]

You make it off the Barge? You seem to be a popular guest star in some of these pictures. [Meaning it looks like they're both cops. Which is. Fun.]

[ooc: Housemates, neighbors and whoever else are more then welcome to spam. <3]

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[Costigan moved past Dick silently to the photo he saw on the kid's bedside table. He picked it up before even giving himself the chance to consider that it was a bad idea, wanting to see exactly who was in the photo. The inmate dropped the photo on the bed and turned around before spontaneously bending over and vomiting straight onto the ground. The withdrawals still continued even now and the shock of the situation was just too much.

The photo was of he and Madolyn and a kid who looked too much like him. He had wondered sometimes if Madolyn was pregnant, the time he had felt her stomach that night she told him they couldn't be together. Had wondered if it was his kid, even though she surely slept with Sullivan as much. But this..

The inmate heaved again, then wiped his mouth on the shoulder of his sleeve, glancing over to his warden and knowing the man would be worried. Without skipping a beat, he started walking toward the door again. He just had to get out of that room.]

[Dick just watched, still feeling like he was intruding on something, which only got worse when Costigan threw up. His hand was still clenched around the door knob - he hadn't let it go since he'd opened the door - and he wasn't sure he could let it go if he wanted to.

As soon as Costigan was back in the hallway, he shut the door firmly. If he was Bruce - or maybe even Tim - he might have gone in to investigate further, try to figure out everything he could about this other life, but he couldn't do it. He was a detective, but he understood people, and this was not the time or the place to be rooting around in this apparent mausoleum.

His throat finally unstuck, even though his voice was a little strained, growing stronger as he finished the question.] I know... that this is a stupid question, but are you okay?

"I'm going to get a drink of water. Then I'll clean the shit up so it doesn't stink." [His response was a very clear avoidance of a straight answer. Costigan was not okay in any sense and, though he was pretending to be just fine--and succeeding in his expression, his posture, and even his tone--, he saw no reason to lie to his warden. Not about this. The fact that Dick had closed the door instead of following him in meant something and he wasn't going to discard that.

The former undercover said nothing else as he walked down the hall and headed toward the stairs to go get some water and wash his mouth out. He should probably change shirts too, but maybe after he cleaned up. After all, the both of them had smelled enough vomit to last a lifetime and Costigan would rather go without the scent some more if he could help it.]

[Dick hesitated for a long moment, looking back at the doorknob he still held tightly in one hand, before releasing it and following the inmate back downstairs. He wasn't really sure what he should be doing, torn between just being quiet and maybe going back to looking around the rest of the house for more hidden drugs, or trying to get him to say something about what they'd just seen. Which was... hypocritical. Dick didn't like talking about stuff that bothered him that much either.

He settled for avoiding the direct topic of potential conversation.] You don't have to go back in there, I can do it.

[Costigan moved into the kitchen, stripping the shirt off of him and tossing it on the counter. He still had all four bandages in place, the stitches needing to stay in for another day or two. Of course, they could always leave them until the return to the Barge, which seemed a safer bet; he wondered how he would explain away the scars that made it seem like suicide. But that was a thought for another day.

The inmate grabbed the water he'd had before, taking in a mouthful, swirling it around a little, and spitting it back out into the sink. He did it once more before finally swallowing a mouthful, listening to Dick but taking his time in responding.]

"It's okay, kid. You've been cleaning up after me for a week. I got this." [He didn't think about the change in nicknames because it often wasn't a conscious choice. 'Guy' was respectful; 'kid' was still affectionate, but with an insinuation of something a little less empathetic.

[Dick chewed at the inside of his lip for a moment. He knew he couldn't keep him out of the room forever - Costigan did, after all, live here, at least until the admiral decided they'd had their fun - so even if he thought it was maybe a bad idea to get too involved in what was there, he wouldn't stop him from doing it.] Okay, if you're sure. Cleaning supplies are under the sink.

[He wasn't really sure what else to do, so instead of leaving or going back to ripping apart the house, he just... loitered. He knew it was incredibly unlikely that the inmate would want to talk about what had happened, especially if the photo had provoked such a violent reaction, but if he did, he wanted to be there.]

[Costigan nodded, taking another sip of the water. Then he crouched down and completely suppressed any physical reaction to the pain that flared as he aggravated his wounds, opening the cabinet and grabbing out the roll of paper towels. He rifled around for a spot before finding and taking out the carpet cleaner as well. The inmate stood with only a very, very subtle gesture of extra effort in that he over corrected his posture when he stood and had to remedy it. Then he glanced at Dick before moving past the warden to return to the bedroom.

He wasn't sure why the guy was staying with him so much. It wasn't like they were living together and, at some point, Dick would have to go whether he liked it or not. Partially to get his warden off his back and partially because he sincerely wanted it, Costigan asked, "Think you can finish up your house search in the other rooms while I do this?"

Yeah, sure. [Dick could take a hint - every once and a while anyway - and he knew he was sort of hovering to the point of being a pain in the ass. Of course, he still had to follow him upstairs, but as soon as they arrived at the door to the bedroom, Dick moved off farther down the hall to finish the search, leaving the inmate to do whatever he needed to.

He still had questions, and the detective inside him was starting to nag at him to ask said questions, but he wasn't going to. Again, he wasn't Bruce, and this wasn't even real life. Counterparts, just a projection, whatever it was, if Costigan wanted to talk about it, fine. If he didn't, Dick wasn't going to push him unless it became a problem.]

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013 [video]

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