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To those that know him, have you seen or spoken to Alfred Pennyworth recently?

I have reason to believe he's missing. If anyone could get back to me with information in regards to him, I'd appreciate it.

I've been so tied up with work I haven't been able to check up on you. I've been worried, though.

Is everything all right on your end?

The rest of the day proceeding the tornado's destruction happens in a blur. It's a kaleidoscope of hours and places. The closet door opened, and they were pulled from underneath, and Rachel can't say with certainty what happens later. She knows Martha heals Robin, knows her friend looks over Rachel's scrapes and bruises, and sends them off. She knows she talked to Alfred, vaguely.

It's all vague.

She hasn't slept in over three days now, and the emotional and physical exhaustion takes a toll on her.

They haven't even stepped foot in the apartment when she's already slipping away. Her head doesn't even hit the pillow, whatever pillow she first finds, before she's sleeping. There are no dreams, good or bad. There's only heavy, uninterrupted sleep.

When she wakes up, it's night. Rachel rubs the sleep away from her eyes, standing from her spot at the couch. She's wearing one of Robin's shirts, and goes off in search for him. "Robin?"

How would you feel about a two-day trip to Washington?