AU. Major Character death.
The hospital room lay dark and still in the night except for the rhythmic beep, beep of the heart monitor. Visitors' hours were long past, yet a shadow cautiously detached itself from the corner of the room and materialized into a cloaked figure, his blue eyes bright underneath his hood. Slowly he approached the slender, dark-haired boy who lay on the hospital bed, unmoving and breathing shallowly, and gazed down at him with an unreadable expression. Then his face twisted slightly into what might have been a grin and he said,
"Good evening, Drake. May I sit here?"
He gestured to the bed before gingerly lowering himself onto it and brushing the other's hand with his own.
"Not that you can answer, of course, but…well, Grayson always said courtesy would be more beneficial to me than rudeness, and…attempting it seemed a worthy way to honor his memory."
He slowly shook his head.
"Of course, you very well might deny me, if you could. Then again, maybe right now you wouldn't turn me away; you never truly hated me, I see that now, not until it was simply a defense against my fierce hatred for you. Perhaps, in other circumstances, we might even have been friends. Other circumstances…"
Suddenly, the vigilante's face crumbled, and with a sob he slid off the bed to his knees, grabbing the sleeping boy's hand and burying his face in it.
"H…how did everything go…so wrong…s…so fast, Drake? A week ago I had a family! Now G…Grayson is dead…and…and Father…Todd, and Cain, and Brown…Drake, even Gordon is gone! And even you…you're not truly here either, are you?"
He quieted, though his breath continued to hitch as tears streamed down his cheeks to wet the unmoving hand he clasped so urgently. Slowly he lifted his head to stare at the slack, pale features.
"What are we going to do, Drake? What…what am I going to do? How can I go on alone? I can't! I can't do it! I need you!"
He bowed his head to the still figure.
"Please wake up, you must wake up, Drake, I need you. Tim. Brother. Why won't you wake up?!"
For the rest of the night the young vigilante remained at his unmoving brother's bed side. Finally, as the grey light of dawn slowly suffused the room, the sleeping boy's slack features stiffened, then his brow furrowed, then clear cerulean eyes slowly blinked open and gazed in confusion at the young vigilante who knelt beside him in silence, head bowed over the hand he still clasped in his own.
"D…Damian?" whispered Tim Drake.