Dick was staring blankly at Tim. "What did you say?"
Tim folded his arms in font of his chest. "You heard me. Next time you feel like butting in, jump off a building without a jump line! You'll do less damage."
Dick put his hands up defensively. "Hey, I was only trying to help."
Tim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and we saw where your help got me. Next time, just push me off the roof--it'll hurt less."
Dick's gaze fell to the floor. "It's not like I meant for everything to go so unbelievably wrong. It just happens sometimes. Besides it's not like you've never screwed up before."
Tim shook his head. "No, you're right about that, but I've never gotten you shot, either."
Dick threw his hands up in the air. "I said I was sorry. Leslie said you would heal just fine. Can't you just let it go?"
Tim glared at him. "Can't I just let it go? Wow, you really don't get it, do you?"
Dick heaved a large sigh, and then sat back in his chair. "Tim, look, I apologized. I'm staying with you for the next couple of weeks to help you out. There's nothing else I can do about it. What more do you want from me?"
Tim turned his head to the side, and stared out the window. "I don't want anything from you. In fact, I really would prefer if you weren't the one staying here with me for the duration of my stay in hell."
Dick got up, and placed a hand on Tim's shoulder. "Timmy, come on, don't be like that. You know it was an accident."
Tim turned to face him again. "Tell you what…go get shot in leg…better yet, let me shoot you in the leg and we'll call it even." Tim looked away again.
Dick's eyes grew wide. "What? I am not letting you shoot me in the leg. I told you it was an accident. Now let it go! It's not like I was the one holding the gun or anything."
Tim stared furiously at him. "So just because you weren't holding the gun, you're not responsible in anyway for what happened? Typical Grayson right there."
Dick sat down on the bed next to Tim. "That's not what I said, and you know it; and what do mean by 'typical Grayson right there'?"
Tim pushed himself back up onto the pillows. "I mean, you were there, you were involved, and, had you done what I told you to, I wouldn't have been shot in the leg and we wouldn't be having this conversation. Do you always just jump into things without thinking, or is that just when I'm around?"
Dick ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Timmy, shut up. The bullet didn't shatter bone or anything. In a couple weeks you'll be fine. Now drop it!"
"Fine, but I still blame you." Tim pointed to the door, and Dick walked out without another word.