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New Gotham, Robinson Park - Friday evening
After a Thanksgiving spent with her entire family-- none of whom had gone missing yet-- Dinah had needed time to process the disappearances, trying to separate out the feelings, trying to remember what happened. She finally had to give up on 'investigative' mode and just sit and think, on top of the Gotham Metropolitan Museum of Art. Mourn a little. Try to believe this was real.

Jak. Who'd been her first real boyfriend. First lover. Sugar-buzz buddy and video-game pal and racer and fellow adrenaline addict... He'd disappeared for a week, and come back so different, and it had been so hard to work their way back to being friends without pushing too much. She'd just had to hang on, and let him have his space, and they'd done it, they had. They were never as close as they'd been two years ago, but they'd stayed in touch. Even with the grimness, sometimes she'd still see the guy who loved racing, was still Daxter's best friend, still fought for his friends and people. She'd kept hoping he'd finish his guerrilla war, find a way to get some part of Sandover back, be happy with someone (as long as it wasn't that Keira girl)....

Just gone. She'd been half-expecting it for a while now. But it hurt just as much as the first time. And she'd never expected it like this, with no one outside of Fandom remembering him. He deserved better than that, damnit.

And Priestly. God. She'd never been out of touch with him for longer than a week in the last three years, and he knew everything about her, he was her best friend and she'd already had this nightmare, thanks. Funny and rebellious and caring and determined and... He was going to be a famous chef! Or not. He was seeing the world! He was going to ask Tish out! She'd been counting on seeing him at New Year's. For a lot of reasons. He'd never wanted her to save him, but it always felt like he was hers to save. And she hadn't.

Not yet, anyway. Maybe. Please. Maybe there was a way. Somehow. Time hadn't run out yet.

Dinah shook her head, putting aside grief, and wiped tears off her face for the third time that day. She wasn't done missing them. But if she didn't want to miss them forever, she couldn't drown in it. Other people had it worse. Other people were grieving too.

Back to work. Back to patrol. Back to changing what she could, swinging from the top of the Wayne Tower down to the City Plaza building. Do what you can. Until it's time to face the real enemy.

[establishy, but open for phone calls/texts.]