|Tim is no hero (grief) wrote in rooms,|
@ 2015-10-25 04:39:00
|Entry tags:||!dc comics, *log, conner kent, tim drake|
quicklog: gotham general hospital, red robin & superboy
Who: Red Robin & Superboy
What: After the rescue work
Where: Hospital rooftop.
When: Late, late at night.
Warnings: None likely.
[It had been a long day. A long night. Every spittle, slow drip bit of time all in between was blood, bodies, broken bones, screaming, dirt, and rubble. This was just like Cataclysm all over again, and it felt as overwhelming as it had the first time a massive earthquake demolished Gotham. Tim didn't do helpless well, his mode became kind of robotic as he scavenged for the living with the help of of Superboy, who hurried the survivors to hospitals both in Gotham and around the surrounding cities. He performed CPR on dozens of people, he pried rubble and granite loose from trapped bodies until blood ran from the tears in his black gloves. He told each and every person that it was going to be alright, but he wasn't sure that he believed it. In the times in between, the spare ones when he was able to draw a breath and think for a second about anything outside of an adrenalized moment, he thought about Stephanie. He thought about his stepmom. He thought about how tired he was of losing people. Every. Damn. Time. This is what Gotham had become for Tim, a mass grave.
It was late when most of the rescue work was finished or under control. His comm had gone fuzzy, busted due to his altercation with Damian when Tim had taken a hard kick to the head. Facial contusions beneath that domino mask? Highly likely. Concussion? Potential. Largest concern? The rumbling in his stomach. Tim's face hurt, and his body hurt, his freaking heart hurt as he stood on the roof of Gotham General Hospital and watched so much of the city burn. It would take days to put out the fires completely. He was out of touch with everyone with his comm down, and he didn't know what to think while he looked out over the skyline. Even when he'd packed up to France for all those years, he'd never felt so alone.]