Blue eyes opened to stare into blackness… complete, utter, wonderful, embracing blackness. His thick, black hair was pasted against his pale skin, his chest rapidly going up and down as he wiped beads of sweat off of his forehead.
After a few moments, the shape of several pieces of room-furniture and the piercing red numbers of his old alarm clock made their way into his awareness. The numbers (blinking because of a power outage recently, of course; you couldn't live in this area without frequent things like that happening) read 10:04pm. Quickly doing the math in his head, Dick groaned; it was 3:30am.
"Old habits die hard," he breathed as he fumbled about in the darkness, narrowly missing a support beam that was strangely placed in the center of his apartment bedroom. After cursing at the thing for a good ten minutes under his breath, finally, he had a cup of finger-burningly hot coffee to calm his frazzled nerves.
"Stupid flashbacks. I … I …" talking to himself wouldn't do him any good. He stood up and slowly, biting his lip in anticipation as he clutched the white, plastic shape in his hand and automatically pushed the appropriate buttons. "Come on, pick up…" he hissed under his breath.
"Friend Richard? I certainly did not expect a phone call from you!" Dick could almost see the smile plastered on Kori's face and her finger wrapping itself around her corded phone (she never did enjoy upgraded technology) and he found himself giving a small smile at the image of her in her bathrobe and with her hair pinned up, doing that sort of thing. It brought back memories.
"Friend Richard? I fear that our connection of telephones is either very bad, or you are lost in thought. Would you like for me to visit your residence?" "O-oh, no, sorry… I was just thinking, that's all…" "I thought that could be the situation. What troubles you, friend?"
It wasn't often that the famed superhero "Nightwing" could be found pouring his heart out to anyone. In fact, being raised by Bruce Wayne, no one who heard such a thing would have ever believed it! But sitting at his kitchen table, taking small sips of now cold coffee and repressing sobs, the man slowly and carefully began to speak of his pain and anxiety to his dearest friend – a miss Kori Anders.
