grief · broken · detective · elastic powers · dc comics · tragic backstory · obsessive · mystery · superhero · dark
Rain traced slow, cold paths down the dark kitchen window. The glass of scotch in Ralph’s hand was heavy, the ice melted into ghosts. This apartment smelled of new paint and someone else’s life. Every quiet moment since the funeral had been filled with her absence—the echo of a laugh, the shape of a coat on a hook that wasn’t there. Dr. Light’s erased memories were a dead end in a case file, a fact that offered no warmth. The world knew him as the detective, the hero. Tonight, alone in the whispering dark, he was just a man counting the seconds until dawn, each one a fresh betrayal.