I walked into the chilly night, scowling that I stormed out without grabbing my jacket first. Stomping into the alleyway, then climbing up the fire escape, I muttered curses to the night. My tiny apartment was on the floor above the bar, but due to the little bird in the bar, I preferred to climb through the window of my living room/kitchen. Wincing as I yanked the glass up and tumbling onto the beat up couch underneath it. A.M., my tabby grey cat, mewled, following behind me as I slumped off to the cramped bathroom. He jumped up to the countertop that encircled the dingy sink as I rummaged for bandages below.
What was his problem, anyway? My frown deepened as I recalled Robin's face: a vile mixture of anger, surprise, fear, and sadness. It wasn't like I was hiding them... (Yeah, sure you weren't.) And if it upset him so much then he should have minded his own business. Hissing as the hydrogen peroxide splashed onto the cuts, I wiped off the crimson mess before it could drip to the floor. "Stupid boy." I muttered, unsure if I was talking about Robin or myself.
I stared at the bundle of gauze my arm had become. The burning pain from the antiseptic was fading away, unclouding my brain and clearing the path for a train of thought. (Unfortunately.) My hand reflexively reached into my pocket, drawing out the shining switchblade before I had even thought about it, the razor sharp blade drawn. "Rote Rabe" read the calligraphic inscription on one side of the polished silver handle. Turning it over, I gazed at the detailed engraved image of a raven, a chip of ruby in place of an eye. I spun it effortlessly between my fingers, a trick I had mastered with a friend a long time ago.
"Where are you, Rav?" I got no answer from the empty room. A dull ache in my chest formed as I thought of my best friend, partner, and accomplice. I have my suspicions of who she's with; I hear things. And I'm certain of the prominent danger she's put herself in, but removing myself from the field of action put me out of contact with her. Making my pleas to her for peace and good useless. My ignorance and lack of known information boiled beneath my skin.
(There's always a way of finding her.)... There are places in this city, not particularly nice places, where one could find connections to lesser known information, the dirt on the recent happenings in Gotham, namely, police activity, the Batman, and his mile long list of enemies. I know there's a part of me that enjoys that setting... maybe too much, making me fit in with that part of town, that crowd, more than I'd like to admit. (Heh heh heh...)
I sighed and pocketed the knife; my arm was cut up plenty at the moment. "I suppose I should blow off some steam." I mused, tilting my head toward A.M. Tomorrow night I will hunt down some well deserved information.
And with that, I slept for once. My nightmares silent with the flicker of devious hope.