Throughout his life, Victor couldn't really remember many instances of being afraid. Thrilled, sure, he was actively looking for that. But this was different. His heart was racing and it was harder to breathe than it should be. He had people all over the city looking for escapees in Arkham uniforms. He knew that Roman didn't work well with people, so if that was the intention of whoever broke them out? Unlikely to end well.
When he finally got a tip, it made it sound dire. Of course he hurried and by the time he got to the place, Roman had lost consciousness.
He carried him to the car and Roman did open his eyes then, smiled a dopey smile and passed back out.
Hours later, Victor sat next to him in his bed, holding Roman's hand, not caring how sentimental that was. The doctor who'd stitched him up had given a good prognosis, so he shouldn't feel this tense any more, but here he was still, staring at him watchfully, as if he could keep him from being shot retroactively.
no subject
When he finally got a tip, it made it sound dire. Of course he hurried and by the time he got to the place, Roman had lost consciousness.
He carried him to the car and Roman did open his eyes then, smiled a dopey smile and passed back out.
Hours later, Victor sat next to him in his bed, holding Roman's hand, not caring how sentimental that was. The doctor who'd stitched him up had given a good prognosis, so he shouldn't feel this tense any more, but here he was still, staring at him watchfully, as if he could keep him from being shot retroactively.