Prepare for a slightly sedative-woozy Tim and some angstyfied fluff. I hope you like this chapter! :D
Jason slides his shirt over his head, tightens the drawstring on his sweat pants, and rubs his hair dry with a towel (not all at the same time). He turns off the light to the bathroom, contemplating the dark, empty hallway before him. He's sure Alfred's around here somewhere.
He keeps the towel around his neck as he enters Tim's room. A desk is still there from when he actually lived here. The syringe with the second dose of sedative sits upon it. Jason takes the chair and rolls it over to Tim's bedside.
Tim's blinking slowly, as if he's just woken up. "Jason?" He's voice is a little slow, as if his tongue is heavy. Jason blames the sedative.
"Right here, baby bird."
"Where'd you go?" His voice is definitely drowsy.
"Just out. You okay?"
Tim completely ignores the question. "Did I make you mad?"
Tim rolls over onto his side so he's looking at Jason, and his eye are a tad unfocused. Jason swallows, fighting the urge to fidget with the hem of his T-shirt (because Jason Todd does not fidget).
"No. 'Course not."
"'M sorry," Tim says, hiding a yawn. "I didn't mean to make you whatever you were. Mad. Or sad. 'S just because this 's my fault." Jason hears the light running together of words and wonders how badly the sedatives at Arkham worked if this is how he is by one of the Bat's formulas.
"This isn't your fault, you know. It's... I don't know who's fucking fault it is," Tim smiles, and it looks a little goofy, but Jason smiles a little too, "but it's not yours."
The smile disappears and Tim rolls once again onto his back. "It is. I let myself get all... squished by things n'so, s'my fault."
Jason runs a hand through his hair and shuts his eyes for a second.
"...didn't mean to make you sad again. 'M good at that though. Depressin' people."
Jason feels all of him sort of melt a little. He reaches his hand out and only when he feels Tim take it does he open his eyes. Jason has things to say, a lot of things, things that would complicate what they sort of have (or what could all be in his head).
So, all Jason does say is, "Baby B, you make me one of the happiest people on earth."
Tim looks at him, the fog sort of lifting out of his eyes. "I make you happy?" Then, he looks like he's listening to something else. He frowns, winces, and his mouth twitches. "Sedative," he murmurs. "Jason?"
Jason wants to say no.
"Please," but then Tim says that. Neither Jason, nor Tim, let go as Jason reaches for the syringe. He holds the tip of the needle against the arm that's attached to the hand he's holding. He slips the needle under Tim's skin and pushes the plunger.
He watches Tim's eyes go foggy again and they make eye contact.
"Yeah, Tim," Jason says, "you make me inexplicably happy."
Tim doesn't smile and Jason isn't one-hundred percent sure he'll remember that, because Tim's eyes are now closed and his breathing has evened off.
"Love you, baby B."
Jason falls asleep in that chair holding Tim's slackened hand.