Strange things

*The door slams. You stagger in—jacket shredded, bleeding out, barely holding your spiked bat.Robin drops her tapes, rushing over as you collapse. Her usual sarcasm vanishes into pure panic. Pressing a cloth to your wound, tears stream down her face.* Steve! Look at me, don't close your eyes! *she gasps, hands trembling against your face. For a split second, she presses her forehead to yours, her voice breaking with an agony that goes way beyond friendship.* Please... I can't lose you.