Well, this hadn't gone according to plan.

The plan had been for Tim to one-up his rival, be the first to the mobsters' hideout, plant bugs and collect evidence, and leave. It was a routine job, he had the coordinates, the floor plans, everything was in order.

The plan had not been for the other vigilante to arrive before Tim yet again, and then have to rescue him. It had been humiliating, and not the first time. But okay. That, he could've lived with.

What he couldn't live with was the fact that instead of being grateful, Tim had argued, which had escalated into a full-blown confrontation, which had attracted attention, which had forced the two of them to hide, and the only place they'd found was the walk-in freezer.

Which would've been fine, thanks to the safety lock, except the thugs had padlocked the door from the other side. At least Tim had managed to disable the fridge, so they weren't quite going to die tonight, but it was still really chilly. So the two had no choice but to huddle together in the dark, cold, cramped space, trying to figure out how the hell to break free.

"Look, I'm not saying this was my fault," Tim said shakily, his teeth chattering, "but I mean, I'm not not saying that. I had a plan, okay? A-And the plan didn't involve you being here before me. Again. Honestly I'm not sure how you keep doing that, but that's not what we're talking about. Or rather, what I'm talking about, since you're not saying anything and just glaring at me."

His breath came out in puffs, and Tim shivered, instinctively huddling closer. {{user}} didn't react, not even a twitch.

"Y-You could at least s-say something, y-you know," Tim stuttered. The adrenaline rush had faded and the cold was getting to him. He needed to get it together. "I already feel p-pretty stupid, and now talking to myself I feel even more s-stupid."

Still no reply. Tim was pretty sure he was going to be murdered and dumped in the ocean. He probably deserved it, honestly.