Issue #30

[mistconduct]

[Private to Barbara Gordon]

How do you take this shit, Barb? How the fuck do you keep going?


[Private to Infirmary Staff]

So what's the plan, Docs? I'm getting fucking bedsores. I want out.


[Private to Vesper]
Hey. Can we.

Look, pick up the phone. Just.

Can we talk?


[Later, public]

[He's still getting drugged every night, as much for his mental health as his physical. It's easier to get through the days when you're on a cocktail of anti-depressants.

This, however, has its disadvantages. Mainly that Chris is so exhausted that he sleeps through the night, unaware of his warden item beeping underneath the bed. The teddy bear - yes, his warden item is a slightly charred teddy - is recovered in the morning, still beeping, when Chris wakes up.

It's alarming, how he can go from sleepy and lackadaisical to fucking pissed in a single instant]


Who the FUCK killed Slevin?!

You assholes, I swear to FUCKING god, I will fucking come out of this bed and murder the shit out of you! Where the fuck is my inmate and who the fuck is responsible for this bullshit?! You think just because I'm in the infirmary doesn't mean I won't come there and murder you back, you utter shithead?!

Fuck. Someone get me a fucking wheelchair, or crutches, or whatever. Who saw him last?!

Jesus christ, you're a fucking pack of animals!


[After Slevin's been found]

Call off the search, his body turned up in the inmate showers.

Whoever did this; you're fucking dead. You hear me? You can't fucking run on a ship, dumbass. I'm coming for you.

Fuck everything.

Comments

[patheticvillain]

You're not a fuck-up, okay? You're sick, that's just how it is. We just have to find him now. Move forward, find him, bring him back. Tell him about death bingo and punish whoever fucked with him. Because nobody messes with us.

[He pushes Chris's hair out of his face, then backs up and kicks the wheelchair over to the bed.]

You need help or you got it? [Like it's nothing and it doesn't bother him at all.]

[mistconduct]

[Breathing shallowly, a paler Chris nods and scoots himself to the edge of the bed.]

No, I got it. I'm fine.

[No, he doesn't. A week of mandatory bedrest and the loss of his legs didn't prepare Chris for the utter loss of balance and coordination, as he tries to pull himself into the chair and ends up falling out of bed and banging his shin on the metal rim]

Fuck.

[patheticvillain]

[Shit shit shit, okay, dumb move - Cassel falls to his knees and steadies Chris by one shoulder, grabbing his hand and squeezing it hard to distract from the pain. It's all he can do right now not to just shove him back into bed and tell him to shut up and let everybody else handle this, but there's no way that wouldn't make Chris feel a billion times worse.]

Hey, asshole, look at me. Breathe.

[mistconduct]

[Sitting himself up on the floor, Chris shuts his eyes and grits his teeth, hugging onto Cassel's hand as his face flushes. He feels like crying from how fucking useless he feels, can't even stand up to help search the Barge for his own inmate]

No, I'm fine. I'm fine, it's cool..

[patheticvillain]

Yeah, you're cool. You're in control, okay. So you have to tell me what to do, 'cause I have no idea.

[He squeezes Chris's hand again and tries really hard not to think about Slevin's body lying somewhere, or how much or little he's gonna wear that liar's smile when he comes back.]

Tell me what you want me to do.

[mistconduct]

[Breathing raggedly, Chris grimaces and pulls his hand away to set both his hands on his face, his shoulder shaking]

I don't know. I don't...fucking know, I can't...think right now..

[patheticvillain]

Hey.

[He's quiet, tentative. He doesn't try to touch Chris anymore, but he doesn't put his gloves back on either, just leans back against the chair with his hands resting on his thighs.]

You're a hero. I love you. You got this.

[mistconduct]

God damn it, no. Just...fucking christ, I can't even..fucking crawl into a fucking chair.

Fuck..

Cassel, I just. What the fuck am I even doing?

[patheticvillain]

The right thing. You're doing the right thing. You're doing what you were born to do.

You trust me?

[mistconduct]

Yeah. Yeah, I trust you.

[patheticvillain]

Then hey. You're doing the right thing. I can tell you are because you're so worried about him.

[He leans back against the hospital bed with a sigh.]

You get five minutes or less. Then we go. 'Cause you're gonna start climbing the walls otherwise.

[mistconduct]

[Red-faced and heated, Chris grimaces, nodding tightly. He sits on the floor, breathing and trying to regain lost dignity]

We have to find him, Cassel.

[patheticvillain]

I know.

[Nudging Chris gently with his shoulder, Cassel nods.]

We're gonna. And then make sure it doesn't happen again. I'm not going anywhere until he's breathing again, either.

[mistconduct]

...God, after all that bullshit about him being able to take care of himself. He's going to be such a prick about this.

[patheticvillain]

He's kind of a prick all the time no matter what. If he's a prick more than usual about this, it'll be because he's scared.

[mistconduct]

God, this is going to fuck him up so badly. I should've been protecting him from exactly this shit.

[patheticvillain]

From what? Some psychotic asshole who attacks people for probably no reason other than he can? You can't predict what everybody's gonna do. The important thing is that now you're gonna tear this place apart for him. I bet people don't usually do that.

[mistconduct]

It might've been personal. Someone could've been doing this to fuck with me. Slevin's a goddamn nonentity, he never pisses anyone off. Me, I can't keep my fucking mouth shut..

[patheticvillain]

Don't jump to conclusions. You think that's gonna help you find him? Being pissed at yourself?

[mistconduct]

...No...

[patheticvillain]

Okay. So we don't know what happened yet or why. You be single-minded. You don't let you mind wander. You find him. Then you can be pissed at yourself if you gotta be. He's priority right now, right?

[mistconduct]

Yeah. I mean. I know he's already dead, but I don't want any sick fucks touching his body.

[patheticvillain]

Yeah, I imagine he'd be even more pissed about that one.

Okay. I think that's five. You ready?

[mistconduct]

Yeah. Yeah, give me a hand.

[patheticvillain]

Sure.

[It's not particularly easy. He's smaller than Chris by this point, and he feels shitty having to do this because he knows Chris hates it. But it's necessary, so he sighs and boosts Chris up into the chair, letting him do as much of the work as possible.]