Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from DC Comics featured herein.

Random generators are good when you only have vague ideas and a whole load of writers block. And this story was begging to be written.

Warnings: major spoilers for recent events (like Flash #13 and recent Titans stories) general OYL spoilers, het, implied slash, heavy angst, swearing

Dwindling Inferno

Tim stared out the window of the Tower. There were no stars. The clouds were violet in the cold air. With the light out in the room, Tim could almost make out the horizon of choppy sea and heavy sky.

Unfortunately there was just enough light for him to glance to the side and see the reflection in the window of the figure in the tousled bed behind him.

Tim wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream and cry and rip his intestines out before freezing his own still-beating heart.

He didn't though.

Instead, he picked up his phone again and reassured himself that the phone call had happened: that he wasn't just hallucinating this nightmare, that Bart …

"Tim?"

He put his phone down again without a sound and turned slowly around, his cape barely moving about his shoulders.

Cassie sat up in his bed, not even bothering to pull the sheets up, and stared distastefully at his uniform — mask and all.

"So fucking typical of you."

Tim turned back to the window. "You've known me for how long now?"

"Hera, Tim, I thought …" She snorted. "You know what? You're right, it was stupid of me to think you would be a human being about this. How I could have even considered doing what we did … You need help, you know that?"

"That's hardly the first time it's been suggested."

He watched through the reflection as she got up and threw her discarded clothed back on. Her muttering was low, but the room was silent enough that he could hear her blistering commentary.

" … understand, what did you expect … Fucking Bat … stupid kiss, meaningless … knew he was never thinking of me. Hate him. Hate this."

Tim couldn't help commenting on the last part.

"Deal with it."

That was all it took for Cassie to finally lose her temper and smash the bedside table into kindling.

"Deal with it? You asshole. We've been friends for years, you'd think I'd deserve a little bit of respect and courtesy after …"

"Fucking me?"

Tim barely managed to dodge the heavy piece of wood thrown his way.

"Fuck you, Tim! I come to you wanting comfort seeing as you were the only one who could possibly understand completely and you have nothing but a cold shoulder for me. I've tried to help you too, but you just cut me out of your life. Now that I'm only just starting to move beyond losing him, maybe with your help, you go and pull this shit with mixed signals and desperation and pain and the slightest hint of comfort and I'm left reeling when you jump straight back to Robin the Emotionless Wonder as though it all meant nothing — like I meant nothing. Just how much do you hate me?"

She was almost crying by the end of her rant and Tim could still only stare through the glass as she finished getting dressed.

It wasn't about hate … definitely not about hate.

She didn't speak until she got the door. Dramatic as always.

"You think that I never knew, don't you? That I was completely oblivious. I knew. I wished I didn't sometimes, but whatever guilt I felt wasn't enough to stop me from grasping happiness with everything I had. Maybe you're bitter that you never got to have that happiness. Maybe that's why you haven't moved on yet. That's probably why you made a move on me, because of him, I was the last one he——"

"Don't try to psychoanalyse me and reassure yourself that you know anything about how I feel, especially about Kon."

They were both surprised when he spun around and shouted at her. It was the first real move he'd made towards opening up to her since they'd both gotten back on the team.

Cassie stepped forward to reach out to him. "Tim——"

"Don't." Tim drew back, closing the cape even further as he shrunk back into the shadows so that he was just a vague outline and white eyes.

"Don't what? Don't care?"

"No. Cassie, you probably do know me better than anyone else, so maybe that does give you some insight into me. But what I feel about Kon, about Bart, about you, about all my friends, my family, Batman, Nightwing, the past, the future the present … everything … some things you don't know and I won't tell you, some I can't, a lot can't even be told. You know me, but you don't know enough and you probably never will. Your presumption is only making things worse."

Cassie didn't reply. Her hand was still outstretched as though to touch him, but she had curled her fingers back as he spoke and now the arm dropped to her side and she refused to look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry for caring," she whispered and fled the room.

Tim moved over and closed the door, leaning his head back against it with a sigh.

It was getting harder and harder to keep doing that … to do anything, really. Sometimes he thought it would just be easier to end it all, let go and stop doing this to himself and everyone he cared about that was still around.

But, as always, something would catch in the corner of his eye and he'd be reminded of what he lived for, fought for, would sacrifice himself for.

Tim sat on his bed, pushing the rumpled coverlet away, and picked up the old photograph that was ever present.

They'd both be there now, stopping him from doing something stupid … or trying anyway. It was kinda nice, having that hope. Of course, it could also be his mental state deteriorating even further. He wasn't completely sure he remembered what hope was supposed to feel like. Happiness and love seemed like distant memories as well.

Maybe it was hope, or just his masochistic tendencies, but he wouldn't be giving up that day.

"I'm sorry for caring too."