The now Tim had to live in was measured in his thoughts as the time of Kon's death plus Bart's plus eternity minus his own future death. Thus the time Tim wanted to live in was in the negatives.
He did not feel much, except he did, deep down. Mostly Tim reacted to stimuli now. Investing in displays of emotion had become redundant, nobody was there anymore. To possibly make it better. It could, would never be better.
Bruce watched him, did not trust him, kept his eyes and scheming mind on him like Tim was in a row with Two-Face, Joker, Ivy and Luthor. Like he could be.
Like he could be better then them. Worse.
Dick thought that he would destroy the universe, or at least the world, but probably the universe! because of the empty soul he saw in Tim's eyes. Tim had heard him say it in jest, but Dick's audience had not laughed.
Bart's buzz-saw hiccuped laughter, Kon's low chuckles, booming belly-laughs. Tim felt sick, his throat worked to keep the bile and the memories down.
Batman's eyes were fixed on his face. Tim longed for negative time.
And them.