Bruce lost all sense of time.
Night and day blended together, going by unnoticed in his constant search for answers.
Sleep became an abstract idea; Bruce couldn't even close his eyes without imagining what could be happening to his little girl.
This drove him to tap every source, interrogate every possible culprit, with the determination of a pit bull.
He would not rest until Dezzie was home, safe and sound.
The screech of metal against metal shocked Dezzie out of her exhausted doze, hissing as the sudden tensing of her muscles caused the burns along her arms to flare up.
Blinking the pained tears away, she scanned the empty little room she had been thrown in after the last failed attempt.
They wanted her to let something out, but Dezzie didn't know what it was.
Were they coming back to try again?
Frightened by the idea, Dezzie forced herself to sit up, arms trembling with agony and exertion.
There was no way to tell how long she had been alone; they could be back at any moment.
It was a struggle to get on her feet, but Dezzie did, mind racing.
She had to get away.
She had to get outside and find Bruce.
Stumbling towards the door, Dezzie tested the knob, feeling it twist easily in her grip.
Confused, she pushed the door open, finding that a good portion of the outer wall and door had been gouged out.
The door swung open on weak hinges, and she became fully aware of the fight raging on the other side.
Flames scorched the air in vivid arcs, rocks jutted out of the floorboards like angry spikes, and water lashed out in sharp tendrils, all aimed for the same man.
Blue eyes widened at the sight of her father figure, Batarang in hand and evading danger.
They were trying to hurt her daddy.
Something built up inside of Dezzie at the thought, pressing against her temples like a migraine.
They were trying to hurt her daddy.
The world fell away to the roar of a sudden squall.