[Unconsciousness was like an old movie-- replaying the night over and over, skipping around odd places, almost mismatched in a way that made it disconnected and disjointed. The sound was out of synch in places, and he doesn't feel anything connect or impact when he's certain it should-- like expecting an actor to say a line in a movie you've seen a thousand times, but suddenly saying something different.
Sometimes it gets as far as Batman in his vision, and all he remembers from the conversation is that promise. But usually it rewound when Dent left. He had no idea how many times he watched it.
When Dick wakes up it's cold and numb again, but it's not warm or hurtful or heavy. His vision isn't wet and his mouth isn't bloody, and he can feel his face in as much as he could tell that the swelling had gone down.
He shifts around, just slightly-- moving still hurt, and the breath he takes in hisses between his teeth (breathing doesn't hurt as bad, but it's strange and there's a cannula in his nose and it makes him sniff). Stitches and bandages and probably a cast or two, and it feels like there's an IV in his arm. His head is clearer, but not by much. But more importantly, he moves his head to the side, searching, and there's an overwhelming relief in his chest when he can confirm that Damian was here.
He's here. Thank god. He's OK and he's so much gladder than he could've ever thought he would be.
Dick lets out a whimper, not from pain but to have something to say, to make some noise to try and get his attention if he was even awake, lifts up a hand to try and grab onto his brother, trying not to rustle anything else.]
no subject
Sometimes it gets as far as Batman in his vision, and all he remembers from the conversation is that promise. But usually it rewound when Dent left. He had no idea how many times he watched it.
When Dick wakes up it's cold and numb again, but it's not warm or hurtful or heavy. His vision isn't wet and his mouth isn't bloody, and he can feel his face in as much as he could tell that the swelling had gone down.
He shifts around, just slightly-- moving still hurt, and the breath he takes in hisses between his teeth (breathing doesn't hurt as bad, but it's strange and there's a cannula in his nose and it makes him sniff). Stitches and bandages and probably a cast or two, and it feels like there's an IV in his arm. His head is clearer, but not by much. But more importantly, he moves his head to the side, searching, and there's an overwhelming relief in his chest when he can confirm that Damian was here.
He's here. Thank god. He's OK and he's so much gladder than he could've ever thought he would be.
Dick lets out a whimper, not from pain but to have something to say, to make some noise to try and get his attention if he was even awake, lifts up a hand to try and grab onto his brother, trying not to rustle anything else.]