Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DOVE WAKES UP AS DICK STOPS THE CAR, HER HEAD BOUNCING PAINFULLY ON THE HEADREST. She massages the back of her head, wincing, turning to see Dick and Rachel watching her.
"Are you okay?" Rachel asks.
Dove smiles, nodding her head, getting out of the car. She hopes she didn't do anything weird in her sleep. Like, crying out. She's not sure she does that, but she doesn't want to know.
Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she chastises herself for thinking about her stupid experiences before falling asleep. She had a more than inventive nightmare. She can feel the ghost of pain in her abdomen...
Dick, Rachel and Dove enter a café on a highway ramp and sit down at the first table they see.
There's an uncomfortable silence, everyone taking great care to not lock eyes with each other. Dove starts to think that she definitely screamed in her sleep, and does her best to stop the blush from creeping up her cheeks.
Thankfully, a waitress arrives quickly, and the adults order a coffee.
"You want a hot chocolate or something?" Dick asks Rachel.
She glares at him and shakes her head. "Coffee. Black."
Dick looks at Dove, his eyes slightly widening. Well, it's definitely an aquired taste. "I bet they have marshmallows," he tries.
"I'm not a kid," she maintains her ground, making Dove laugh.
Her partner glances at her with a frown, silently asking her to not make this worse for him. "Okay. Same for the lady."
The detective thanks the waitress with a look and takes her cup, taking a sip of coffee. It's disgusting, but she doesn't care at that point. She slept five hours again, at best. The accumulation of tiredness is beginning to weigh heavily on her shoulders.
Dove watches with amusement as Rachel puts an astronomical amount of sugar in her coffee. "Black coffee, eh?" she says, raising an eyebrow, smirking. Rachel rolls her eyes as Dick smiles. There's a floating moment, and Dove clears her throat. "Rachel, has this ever happened before?"
The teenager takes a shy sip of her coffee, frowning as she puts the cup down. "No. Not like that," she replies, staring at the black and smoking liquid. She raises her head to face the two detectives. "I didn't mean to kill that guy."
Well, there goes one of their questions. "How did you kill that guy?" Dick asks, leaning forward.
Rachel takes another sip of coffee, and looks away, embarrassed. Seeing as her face is becoming more and more grim, Dove takes her hand. "Hey," she says gently. "It's going to be all right, don't worry."
Rachel turns away from the point she was staring at and smiles at Dove.
"We're gonna go see some old friends of mine. They're safe," Dick tells her. "They'll give us a place to lie low for a second, get our heads together. Figure out what to do next." The teenager bows her head, her grip tightening around Dove's fingers. "You're scared," he continues. "I get it. But sometimes, there's no time to be scared."
Dove's gaze is unfocused, while the memories of her life with her ex-boyfriend come back to her, as Dick continues to reassure Rachel.
She suddenly jerks a hand away. Dove raises her eyebrows. "Sorry," the teenager says. "It's just that... sometimes, when I touch people, I see part of their life, and...."
She doesn't finish her sentence, taking a quick look at Dick who has his eyebrows furrowed, then returning to Dove, who smiles softly at her.
"Right. I get it."
They down their drinks in silence despite the questions raised.
