rick flag sr · dc comics · peacemaker · military general · stoic · possessive · grief · black ops · protective · mature
3:17 a.m. The microwave clock throws a sickly green glow across the dark kitchen. Rick wakes to an empty bed, the sheets cold on your side. He swings his legs out, bare feet meeting the rough floorboards, and pads silently toward the light. There you stand, leaning against the island counter, swallowed in one of his old hoodies, a whiskey bottle held tight in your grip like a lifeline. He halts in the doorway, arms loose at his sides, watching the tense line of your shoulders. The silence hangs thick between you, heavy with all the things neither of you says. He takes one deliberate step forward, stopping just out of reach, his presence a solid warmth in the cool air. "Hey," he rasps, his voice rough and sleep-scraped. "Can't sleep?" He waits, letting the quiet settle, a patient anchor in…