I hope everyone is surviving through this awful time and will never forget all those lives lost and sacrificed on 9/11. Stay strong and always love each other!

Tim could barely hear the noise around him as he felt strong arms lift him from the ground and hear yelling in the distance before feeling like he was traveling really fast. When coming to a stop, cracking his eyes open, he glanced over to see a large man in a dark costume.

"It's going to be okay Tim." The man said in a deep voice as he carried Tim over to a table were Tim's blurry vision saw an older male waiting.

Why was he saying the Tim would be alright? Was he hurt? Oh yeah, he was stabbed. He was probably going to die. But for some reason Tim was not as upset as he should be. It actually felt right, like it was the only thing that could take away his never ending stress and exhaustion. It would probably make Jason and Damien very happy, along with being one less person Bruce, Dick, and Alfred had to look after. Though he was going to miss the few friends he had, especially Steph. Knowing her she will find a way to bring him back just to kill him herself.

As the pair rushed around hooking machines up to Tim and stripping the costume off, Tim slowly let the darkness consume him again.

As Alfred and Bruce were preparing for surgery, since Leslie was out of the country, three more bikes halted to a stop in the cave and Nightwing ran over to Tim as he lay bleeding to death; there was so much blood, probably from an artery.

"How is he?!" Dick ran right over to his side, the distress clear on his face and in his voice, and held an unconscious Tim's hand. Jason and Damian for once keeping their comments to themselves. But standing oddly close to the table were their brother lay.

Before anyone could respond the heart monitor began to slow down enough until it flat lined and the only sound in the cave was the machines. But of course being bat's that lasted about 2 seconds before Bruce took action.

Grabbing the heart jumpers he began to restart Tim's heart as the others watched Tim's chest raise with every charge. Luckily in the last and final attempt his heart gave the tiny beats that showed signs of life. A breath of relief and gratitude washed over the group; even Jason and Damian were glad their brother survived. Even though they threaten bodily harm to him, neither wanted to have to bury a family member.

Dick on the other hand could not hold back all the emotion that flowed through him, as tears slowly fell from his eyes, since he watched Tim fall to his knees. He will never forget that look of watching the light slowly fade from his little brothers eyes. Even when Jason at died he was not actually witness to it and Dick was so glad for that because it was something no one should watch.

Now with Tim having been moved upstairs to his room, the rest of the family gathered in one of the family rooms. Everyone sat in silence, trying to recover from the near tragedy they almost faced.

"What happened tonight?" Bruce said in a voice that meant they should explain right now. He might not be the most present father around but he always keeps tabs on his children, what cases they are working, and what is happening in their lives.

"I honestly don't know Bruce. One minute we were taking down gang members and the next someone fired a gun and Tim is on the ground." Dick had yet to recover from the ordeal he experienced and it was clear in his deflated voice. Next to him Damian sat with his arms crossed and a neutral look.

"Maybe if Drake trained more he would not be taken down by some petty criminal."

"Don't act like you've never made a mistake or been hurt, brat!" Not that Jason would ever admit to defending Tim.

"Both of you stop." Bruce growled

"I just don't understand why Tim had such a hard time tonight, usually he could have handled the whole gang." Dick questioned.

"Tt it was probably from the injury to his ribs."

"You knew he was injured and didn't say anything you little shit!"

"Of course I didn't know, but only someone as incompetent as you Todd would not notice that Drake slowed his movements when he turned his abdomen." Even though Damien chose to ignore Tim most of the time, he was very attentive.

"Damien, when did you notice?" Bruce asked, disappointed in himself for not noticed such a small detail.

"About a week ago, father."

"Why did the Replacement not say anything?"

"Tim is always been one to prefer taking care of himself. He probably didn't want to feel like a burden." Bruce answered.

"True but now that you mention it Tim does seem more distant than usual. When I talked to him in the cave a few nights ago he was almost flinched away in fear, like I was going to hurt him. I also noticed that some other wounds on him and a bandage covering something up." Even noticing this, Dick was much too concerned with his brother surviving to worry about some bruise or a cracked rib.

It was with that statement that the realization of how Tim was really feeling and how bad the situation really was set in. It was no mystery as to why Tim reacted that way, and not that they would point fingers at each other but it did explain why Tim had been taking more solo missions, staying out longer, and not to mention that he of course looked like he lost weight from avoiding family meals. You would think that a group of detectives would notice such a thing sooner.

" We will have to wait until he wakes up to try and figure this out." Bruce stated before leaving the room with a frustrated scowl, with Jason a Damian following shortly after.

Dick continued wonder what was happening to his smartest brother and the possibility that things were much worse than what they seemed. Maybe it was not the best idea to have all of his brother's under one roof? Maybe he shouldn't have asked Tim to be so flexible and understanding?How could he not noticed before? What kind of older brother was he to not see a problem that was right in front of his face? Not that Tim would ever say no to a favor asked of him by Bruce or Dick. But that was one of the issues, Tim was never one to complain or whine.

Rubbing his face with his hands, Dick signed and stood to leave the room.