FAULT LINES ━━ titans [REWRITING]

FIVE.

He was met by a fist, which hit his back with force and slammed his flying body down onto the cold ground. The two heroes felt their gazes rise back to one another and the caped crusader's lips parted, words practically about to tumble from them; but Abigail didn't give him the chance, casually stepping over the unconscious felon, back towards Hank and Dawn.

TENSION HAD FILLED THE WALK BACK TO THE APARTMENT. Abigail found herself walking alongside Hank, the two of them quietly sparring back and forth with words as Dawn and Dick trailed behind them, consumed in thoughts. Hank tripping up the pavement whilst trying to counter a response from Abigail had gained a few laughs, though. And teases. Dawn continued in silence, her lips sealed until they had stopped at the door and Hank was fumbling with the keys and then you weren't kidding when you said you'd changed.

Even Hank stiffened beside her. Abigail hesitated, the same way Hank's key did over the lock, as they waited with short breath for Dick's response. It never came, but Dawn wasn't one to quit so easily.

"I've never seen you like that before." the white haired woman's words were conflicted, her feelings of distress and unease and fear in a melting pot.

He never was like that. The words hung unsaid on Abigail's lips, leaving a sour taste on her tongue. She'd seen the darkness inside of Dick Grayson. And it was dark. But it wasn't this. This was isolation, this was loneliness, this was what happened when he pushed them away. But it wasn't him. No. She wouldn't accept that. Hank opened the door and she drifted in, her eyes searching the room for blue hair skin, for Rachel. She frowned.

Abigail slipped off her leather jacket, dropping the black coat on the back of the sofa as she peered into the spare room, half expecting to see the girl with the tv on or a pair of earphones in. Gone. She stopped herself from panicking. How the fuck do you lose the antichrist?

"Rachel?"

Dick's voice called out her inner thoughts. Abigail's eyes followed him as he paced the apartment, watching as the lines of his frown etched deeper into his face. She caught herself staring. The former gymnast pressed his lips together, before he whispered a curse under his breath and darted out of the room, towards the stairs leading to the roof.

Abigail exchanged a brief glance with Hank and Dawn before following after him. The higher she climbed, the colder it got, the night's breeze drifting in, soaking her in ice. She stepped out into darkness, fitting in like a puzzle piece, her eyes still accustomed to the lack of light. She spotted Rachel in moments, by Dawn's dove cage. Dick shouted back down at the couple that they'd found her, Abby brushed past him to approach Rachel.

She placed a whisper of a touch on her shoulder. The blue haired girl flinched. Fear. But for who? Rachel turned to face her, and one look was all Abby needed to know this girl was hurting.

"You okay, kid?" Abigail asked softly. A leaf on an autumnal breeze. She already knew the answer. No.

But instead of answering, Rachel held out a crumbled package, messy scrawl on the front of it. Dick's handwriting. Oh god. Abigail knew what it was going to say as soon as she saw the thick bulk of cash outlined against the envelope. He wouldn't. She was almost too afraid to look, to feel the last thread fall into place on what he had become. She took the letter out.

Her hand smoothed the creased page, fingers barely touching the writing he'd left. You're better than this, Grayson. Her eyes flashed, conflict appearing, too many thoughts and feelings for Rachel to register all of them. But she tried, she placed her hand on Abigail's, both comfort and curiosity. Familiarity, that's all Rachel felt. A bone aching, soul crushing wave of hurt. This wasn't the first time Abigail Lance had seen Dick Grayson leave.