... He went to reboot the Barge. We didn't know he was doing it for sure until he said he was moving forward with it over the network. He thought it would break down the auto defenses in place, it's been...
[Dick heaves what's probably the world's most relieved sigh and tries to pull it together. His voice is still a little choked.] ... No, not yet, kiddo. We're working on it, I promise. Are you okay?
Dick put away his comm again, kneading his forehead before slowly peeling off the mask, wincing slightly as it tugged at his skin. He stowed back in his right gauntlet before rubbing his hands over his eyes, blinking heavily and glancing back over at his companions.
They were all pretty beat to hell, and he was pretty sure Capa had a concussion. Considering it was looking like they'd still be stuck here for at least a few more hours - or something, however time passed here - and it looked like they were safe for the moment, they should probably try to patch themselves up as best as possible until they could get actual medical attention.
"Hey, Capa, let me take a look at that bump on your head."
"Wait," he said softly, waving him away as he fiddled with a control panel. When would he ever get the chance to do this again?! He wasn't going to worry about a bump on the head when there was science to be done! He stared at a screen and then paused as suddenly..he had four hands instead of two. It passed quickly, but it wasn't the first time it had happened.
Maybe it was a good idea.
He tried to memorize where he was in his work and walked over to Dick, brushing his hands on his already bloody shirt. He had been pretty beat up. Bruises and cuts were everywhere on his body, including a very nasty one on his arm that he had already wrapped up after ripping a sleeve off his shirt. But he'd survive, though that didn't seem to be the main concern at the moment.
"Probably," he said, mouth quirking in a small, tired smile for a moment, already thinking he should probably try patching up some of his other injuries. And John's too. He was pretty sure he was alright for now, especially since doing anything for his scrapes and bruises would mean taking off most of the uniform, and that would just be weird.
He gently put a gloved hand on Capa's shoulder, starting to guide him over to one of the walls. "Come on, sit down against the wall. How's your vision?"
Capa leaned against the wall and then finally sat down, his eyes closing somewhat. "I can see double sometimes. I don't suppose that's a new superpower." It was his very, very lame attempt at a joke and he only smirked slightly as he looked up to Dick.
"If it is, there's really nothing you can do about it. I think the bleeding stopped a while ago." He reached up, wincing as he ran his fingers through his long hair, stained with blood, to reveal a gash that was no longer bleeding but was a likely cause of the concussion.
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Congratulations.
...O'Brien's not with you, is he?
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[Awkward pause.] ... He didn't tell you what he was planning, did he.
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Una, I'm sorry.
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They were all pretty beat to hell, and he was pretty sure Capa had a concussion. Considering it was looking like they'd still be stuck here for at least a few more hours - or something, however time passed here - and it looked like they were safe for the moment, they should probably try to patch themselves up as best as possible until they could get actual medical attention.
"Hey, Capa, let me take a look at that bump on your head."
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Maybe it was a good idea.
He tried to memorize where he was in his work and walked over to Dick, brushing his hands on his already bloody shirt. He had been pretty beat up. Bruises and cuts were everywhere on his body, including a very nasty one on his arm that he had already wrapped up after ripping a sleeve off his shirt. But he'd survive, though that didn't seem to be the main concern at the moment.
"It's a concussion, I think," he confessed.
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He gently put a gloved hand on Capa's shoulder, starting to guide him over to one of the walls. "Come on, sit down against the wall. How's your vision?"
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"If it is, there's really nothing you can do about it. I think the bleeding stopped a while ago." He reached up, wincing as he ran his fingers through his long hair, stained with blood, to reveal a gash that was no longer bleeding but was a likely cause of the concussion.
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It's easier said than done, though.
You doing okay?
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Some people are heading up to the deck. I hear the greenhouses are basically intact.
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