nov. 21, 2014

it's close to midnight and isla is parked in a back alley, helmet resting against one thigh as she thumbs through her contacts to call elena. earlier that evening, her husband and a handful of friends mysteriously went missing. it hadn't been confirmed that they were in fact missing, or if the group of them had gotten together and gone on a bender, but that didn't stop isla from taking to the streets. even in the november chill, she found it quicker to take her bike, knowing it'd be eaiser for her to slip down allies and weave through cars if she had to. but, after what seemed like hours of combing boston for answers, isla continued coming up empty handed.

all she could do was go home and hope he'd be there. she wasn't surprised that he wasn't when she arrived, but at least if he came home, she'd be there waiting for him. the kids were awake and watching the news for anything suspicious when she finally fell onto the couch between them around four in the morning. putting her head between her hands, isla began to cry.

7:25am | jan. 20, 2016

arms stretched above her and toes pointed, dinah gave a large cat-like stretch and rolled over to curl into slade to steal his warmth. when she found the spot next to her empty, she frowned. she wasn't all that unfamiliar with him being up and out of bed before her, but on the occasion that he wasn't too restless to lay there, she enjoyed being able to wrap her arms around him. today wasn't one of those days and she sighed. closing her eyes, she let herself drift back to sleep, only gently interrupted by the older of his three cats jumping into bed with her.

9:53am

finally rising from her spot, she looks back at his empty spot and frowned. a small part of dinah had hoped he'd get back into bed, but she wasn't surprised to see that he hadn't. going about her usual morning routine, dinah grabbed his shirt from the floor and slid it on, accompanying a loose pair of pajama pants that were crumpled at her side of the bed. after washing her face, brushing her teeth, and pulling the tangled mess that was her bed head into a high messy bun, she finally made her way into the kitchen, half expected to be greeted with the warm smell of coffee and french toast.

when she arrived, neither of those things greeted her. just an empty, quiet kitchen. none of this struck her as particularly alarming. slade had a way of coming and going, and as far as she was concerned he could have been down the street buying cigarettes or picking up cream for coffee. unperturbed, dinah made herself a cup of coffee and went to sit on the couch with her lounging dog. the dog didn't seem at all phased by the lack of slade either, and nor did the three cats, two of which were bounding through the loft like jungle cats. she turned on the news and settled in until the dog woke up and decided she needed to go out.

11:17am

after no word from slade, she sent him a text:

Hey old man, just checking in to make sure you're still alive. Bring me something good.

dinah hit send, but inside she felt a pang of worry that she tried to ignore. she thought by now, he would have at least given her a clue as to where he was. then again, he was full of surprises this week. first disabling the cameras around wildecat, then ambushing her as she tirelessly trained awaiting his arrival. this could've easily been another one of his training exercises, she supposed.

12:00pm

dinah busied herself with cleaning up his loft. she still felt the guilt creep into her system whenever she was there, and used this as not only a coping mechanism for herself, but a bit of a peace pipe for him. even though things had been in a relatively calm spot for the two of them, she still looked around his loft and remembered the damage she caused back in november when she tore through here, possessed and blood thirsty. at times, especially when alone, the bad vibes radiating from the walls overwhelmed her.

1:10pm

there's a closet she's never seen before and dinah opens it to find racks of weapons and what appears to be security footage. it never occurred to her that he had the place rigged (and now she hoped she hadn't done anything embarrassing while left alone in his wake) so she sat down in hopes that the cameras would tell a different story.

1:45pm

tears were rolling down her hot, flushed cheeks and dinah didn't notice until the dog had come and nudged her with a whine. quickly, she wiped the tears away and took a shaky breath. what she had seen on the security footage wasn't what she was looking for, but instead something she was hoping she'd never have to relive again.

a disc labled '11.04.15' caught her attention, eyes narrowed as she took it into her hands. she knew what this was. that date was seered into her memory bank as a day she hoped she'd never have to relive again. but something inside of dinah compelled her to put the disc in the computer and she sat back and watched.

even now, two months later, she couldn't believe she had it in her to do such a hateful thing. she went as far as trying to corrupt one of her only friends and then begged him to put an end to her life when she couldn't get him to side with her. her hand rested on her throat where he held her against the wall that day, almost able to feel the tight grip, as if he were there with her. dinah frowned as she watched. she winced every time they hit one another, and gasped as she saw him take her down from a different angle. the bruises left that day reminded her of what transpired between the two allies for what seemed like months after that.

when it was over, she sat there, staring blankly at the screen, the dog now laying at her feet in attempt to comfort its owner. taking a deep breath, she finally took the disc out of the computer and put it back where it belonged in the case, but she was not leaving that there for him the relive. it was coming with her and dinah would find a way to destroy it.

2:00pm

there was a message from kate bishop about a mysterious amount of people who've vanished without a trace. dinah already forgot that she had gone to the security tapes for that reason, but it clicked when it was suspected that the gems were back in play. quickly, she ran to the bedroom to grab her clothes and stuff them in her bag, calling slade as she pulled a pair of jeans on as fast as she could.

Hey, it's me. I don't know where you are, but I'm really worried, okay? Just text me or something so I know you're still alive.

She paused and thought of how to end the voicemail.

I---just be careful, alright? If you need help, let me know.

When she hung up, Dinah sighed, more of a groan than anything and she turned towards the bed to grab the leather jacket that laid on top of her bag. From the corner of her eye, she saw the light of a phone screen next to his bed and sighed.

He was gone. He didn't have his phone. Slade Wilson was in trouble.