FAULT LINES ━━ titans [REWRITING]

FOURTEEN.

HOMEMADE DYNAMITE !
❝ BITTERSWEET. ❞

INTRODUCING:

arthur king/merlyn.
KIT HARINGTON.
DARK ARCHER III.

IT HAPPENED SO FAST.

Abigail Lance barely had time to register the trajectory of the arrow before two hands wrapped tightly around her arms. Their grip pulled her towards them, twisting her around and out of the crosshairs. Too late, she realised what was happening, and a strangled no! escaped her parted lips.

The arrow lodged itself into the upper right of Dick Grayson's chest — right where her heart had been seconds ago— and his hold on her slackened. His knees buckled. His body became heavy in her arms. (It seems only in Star City vigilantes are able to take an arrow to the body and stay standing, she wasn't surprised).

Abby's arms wound around him, reaching under his shoulders as she tried to slow his fall, her knees hitting the ground harshly as she caught him. His landing was much softer and the brunette found her brain descending into chaos as she tried to figure out what the fuck to do.

Already, he looked weak. Sickly. Eyes like glass, like a doll, fading too fast into lifelessness. Not again.

"Dick?" Abby's voice trembled, holding him up as best she could. Falling to the ground would only worsen his wound. "Dick, keep your fucking eyes open."

Her gaze fell to the arrow, and she saw an oozing purple liquid lacing his wound. Poison. Brown eyes rocketed back to his face, watching his skin already begin to pale and his eyelids droop. This couldn't be happening again. No, no, no. She gripped him tighter. He had to fight. He had to.

She glanced up to see Arthur still approaching and instinctively she raised her hand — she could still protect, even if her powers weren't the most reliable. Then a pair of purple boots and a fur coat filled her sight, blocking the pair from harm.