"That's usually where I sit-"
Damian stares blankly at Tim.
"Or not," Tim says as he moves to sit on the other end of the couch that was situated in the middle of the Wayne Manor's library. He then pulls out the book that he had tucked underneath his arm. He flips through his book until he reaches his desired page. His reading leaves behind a quiet that Damian finds himself appreciating.
Think.
Think.
That is what he had come here to do.
He goes over everything he knows over and over. No ultimate conclusion comes from his thoughts nor does he determine what he's going to do about the oncoming trials. He feels empty. Unwhole.
Damian glances down on the floor and notices his missing shadow.
What was he supposed to do now?
He's not who he thought he was.
Damian Al Ghul.
It's strange how wrong it's starting to sound in his head.
"There you are."
Jason's voice interrupts Tim's reading time and Damian's brooding.
"No," Tim says.
"I didn't even say anything!" Jason complains.
"You were going to ask for something," Tim says as he casually flips a page.
"Um. Yeah. Aren't you the expert in transfiguration here?"
"That I am," Tim answers.
"Met Stephenie the other day. Said she's running out of blood."
"And so she sent you," Tim sighs.
"I live to serve," Jason bows in a dramatic manner. He then looks at Damian and glances back at Tim. Tim shrugs and turns back to his reading as if he had never been searched out for in the first place.
"What's up with the brat?" Jason asks. "Why's he sulking?"
"I don't know. Must have something to do with our guest."
"Guest?" Jason questions.
"Cheshire," Tim replies.
"Ah. That chick."
"Cass, Grayson, and Bruce are all talking to her. Don't know what it's about."
"And they didn't invite you? Aren't you our resident wizard?"
"You already know the answer to that question," Tim states. He turns another page. Damian wonders how he can read and converse at the same time.
"Can't you spy on their conversation or something along those lines?"
"I am not all-powerful," Tim says with a roll of his eyes. "My magic knowledge is limited which is why I've been trying to study until you came in."
"Lame."
Tim shuts his book and turns around sharply.
"Don't you have better things to do? I get that Stephenie needs blood. There's no point in you lingering."
Jason puts on his best puppy face, "What? Do I need a reason to spend time with my brothers?"
"You've got to have some ulterior motive for this."
"Fine," Jason relents, "I'll just go where my company will be appreciated. "
"And that is?"
"The kitchen."
"Jason," Tim says with a hint of warning in his voice, " you know you can't eat anything. It'll sit in your stomach and rot for days."
"Pfft," Jason scoffs, "I'm going there because Alfred is in there. He likes me."
"No one said they disliked you."
Damian tires of the two brothers arguing back and forth. He moves to stand up and decides to go elsewhere. He had wanted a place to think in quiet. This environment was the opposite of what he wanted.
"Something wrong?" Tim asks him.
Damian grunts. "Noisy."
Tim hums in thought. "Give this place a chance? It'll quiet down soon enough. I could use a companion."
Damian turns to look at Tim's face.
Genuine concern.
Tim didn't even know him.
Damian finds an invisible force driving him back to the couch where he sits in the spot he had been sitting just a minute before. He doesn't even really think about how Jason plops himself between the two of them with a newfound determination to stay rather than to go to the kitchen.
Tim pops his book back open.
Jason leans his head back and closes his eyes. Meditating.
Damian stares at the wall.
They all sit in comfortable silence.