Agatha Prenderghast (
ghost_holder) wrote2014-03-30 03:38 pm
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Barbara's been tired lately, behaving oddly. She hasn't been any less kind to Aggie, but she can still perceive it, the way exhaustion's been clinging to her. It's what has her sitting in Barbara's apartment now, her hands folded around a mug of hot chocolate as she waits. Barbara went out tonight and Aggie had known, instinctively, that this was different from the other times that Barbara went out. She'd had a look on her face like something was haunting her and Aggie would've had to have been covering her ears and eyes not to hear the news about the serial killer going around.
So she waits. Barbara never promises she'll come home safe. She always promises she'll try because it's more honest. And tonight, Aggie waits. There's a mug of hot water in the microwave and tea bags on the table when Barbara comes.
So she waits. Barbara never promises she'll come home safe. She always promises she'll try because it's more honest. And tonight, Aggie waits. There's a mug of hot water in the microwave and tea bags on the table when Barbara comes.
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I've been less that circumspect with Aggie when it comes to being Batgirl, she knows what I do although we never talk about it and tonight I'm just too worn out to change before I creep through my bedroom window. I probably should have, because as soon as I'm in the light of my apartment, I can see the blood on my hands, feel the bruises I know I'll have under my gloves.
Too late now, she's probably heard me. "Aggie, I'm home." I don't even have to guess that she's here. I know she is. Bless her, she cares about me. Hell if I know why.
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