Tim sat at Batman's super-computer, wearing one of his brother's ratty old shirts and a pair of Captain America boxers, doing a hacking exercise. His eyes drooped as he watched the lines fly across the large screen. As silent as an owl, his eldest brother, Richard, walked behind him, smiling at the sight of his little sibling using his keyboard as a pillow.
The young man crept up to the chair, crouched down to eye level with Tim and whispered a quiet, gentle 'Hello'. Tim glanced in his general direction, eyes glazed over with sleep.
"Timmy..If you're so tired, go to bed.." Dick put a hand on his shoulder.
"Nhh…need..to finish coding…" Tim sat up to resume his work.
"Alright, if you can multiply eight times eight, you can keep coding." The elder turned the chair to face him, crouching in front of it once again.
"S…Sixty-three…?" Tim leaned heavily on the arm of his chair.
"Sixty-four. Nice try slugger. Shut 'er down and hit the sack." Dick ruffled his brother's hair before pressing his mask on.
"Be back later, gotta meet Moon outside Arkham. Rumor has it Poison Ivy's on the loose." Nightwing's motorbike roared to life, then sped out the cave entrance.
Tim sneezed at the sudden dust cloud, and finished performing the shutdown sequence. He unplugged his personal keyboard and folded it shut. Just as he made it half way across the threshold of the cave floor, he heard a squealinging noise and stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened as the Batmobile came flying through the waterfall entrance, stomach lurching in fear at where he was standing.
Running completely on adrenaline, Tim leapt out of the way just as the car came to a screeching halt exactly where he had been no more than a second earlier. He glanced down at his legs to see blood dripping from a scrape over his left knee. 'That's gonna hurt in a minute.'
The top to the vehicle opened with a very angry, now maskless Bruce jumping out from the driver's seat. The man didn't even acknowledge Tim's existence as he stomped furiously towards the passenger side.
Suddenly, he hauled Damian out of his seat by the hood of his cape. The 12-year-old struggled to keep his knees from buckling once he was roughly forced to his feet. It was like every move hurt.
Tim army crawled towards the two, despite his injury, to get a better look at his youngest sibling. As his vision adjusted, what he saw confirmed his fears. Damian was covered in road rash. Blood ran down the tattered remains of his costume, rocks and bits of glass dug into his skin, and tears streaked down his face.
"That was reckless Damian!" Anger flowed off Bruce in waves.
"But…BUT I STOPPED HIM! You wouldn't have caught him if I didn't try it!" Damian wailed.
"Jumping out of the Batmobile was stupid and dangerous. You could have gotten yourself killed, and then where would we be?" Bruce stripped off his gloves and threw them at the computer chair.
Tim backed into a darker corner of the cavern, hissing in pain at the sudden burning sensation when he bent his left leg. 'Guess the adrenaline wore off.' He swore under his breath, desperately wishing for a cold compress and a wet towel.
Suddenly, he was face to..shoe with a pair of dark, Kevlar woven boots. He craned his neck to find Bruce kneeling down to his level.
For the first time, the boy was terrified of his father. He curled in on himself, wincing once more as the ache in his knee grew stronger. Bruce squinted at the teen's bloody leg before standing up and turning around to face Damian, who almost immediately started crying the second his father looked at him.
"Go undress and hit the shower. NOW!" Damian squealed and ran towards the locker room as fast as he could.
Bruce approached Tim once more, this time hooking an arm under his son's own, helping him to his feet.
"Come on Tim, let's fix your knee up." And with that, the Dark Knight led him away.
Soon a bandage covered the wound and Tim found himself standing alone at his locker, looking for a CD to break the unsettling silence, wearing nothing but his brother's too-big, flower-printed swim trunks.
After a moment of careful selection, he settled on a mix album he'd made. 'Greenday, Incubus, All-American Rejects, Daughtry, 3 Doors Down..Why did I ever put this in the back of my case?' Tim zipped the case closed and shoved it in the bottom of his cubbyhole. He placed the disk in his cd player and pressed the play button. Soon, the intro to '21 Guns' began playing.
A quiet whimper of pain brought him back to reality. He tread deeper in to the locker room to find his youngest brother lying in the tub, picking bits of glass out of his hand. The boy squeaked in pain each time a fragment came loose. The floor was littered with several pieces of bloody glass.
"Hey kiddo." Tim gave a shy smile.
Damian looked up at his brother, gaze stopping on Tim's knee. It was wrapped and stained red.
He hiccupped and started sniffling once more, tears threatening to escape his glossed-over blue eyes. Tim immediately recognized the source of his distress and knelt down to his level, brushing the glass aside with his foot.
"Hey, hey..Dami, Damian…It's okay, I'm fine.." Tim soothed, wrapping his arms around his sibling.
"Di-Did- Bruce do th-that t-to you!? I-I'm s-sorry!" Damian wailed between gasps.
"No…No…I fell and scraped my knee…Bruce helped me fix it. And now I'm gonna help fix you..okay?"