The ticking is unceasing. Loud. Gears glimmer, dancing with the shadows cast from the wall screens.
It's 3am. Heartbeats are slower, Star's is even of 25bpm.
Robin is sitting against a cold metal wall, in the dark.
Slade is working at the table. It's higher than Robin's eyes level, and far. He's supposed to be asleep.
The tall man moves smoothly, the orange of his armor flickering like fire.
He's cleaning firearms.
YOU ARE READING
Flying without a net: Memory bites
Fanfic~NEW dark CHAPTER, BEWARE~ No time for a long story but still want some "plot"? There you go: easy, quick memories, mainly Dick's and Slade's. Also, some basic 'poems'. (DICK IS SCARED. SLADE IS SAFE THO, ISN'T HE?)(I FOUND MYSELF AN IDIOT- YES ILL...
