I was rereading things and noticed that I mentioned Bane's sedative a couple times and remembered that there was somewhere I wanted to go with that and then I remembered that I wanted to do this chapter with that because Victoria Vale needed to be in here more than once because she's a bitch. And, besides, angsty Tim is love. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :D
Tim wakes up with a crushing headache in the morning. It's not as debilitating as Arkham sedative-headaches, but it makes him want to stay in bed. But his hands are itching. They haven't been washed in hours. Tim slips his hand out of Jason's (as he is still asleep) and quietly opens the bedroom door to head to the bathroom down the hall (at the time, Tim hadn't wanted a room with an attached bathroom). Conner's gone from loudly furious to broodingly silent. Tim still sees him out of the corner of his eye.
Damian is sitting against the wall, just out of sight of the living room and foyer below. He motions for silence and pats the place next to him. The closer he gets to Damian, the louder the voices below get.
And one of them is the voice of Victoria Vale.
Tim sits down and scratches at his hands.
"Grayson agreed to have a meeting with her this morning," Damian says, "because she was going on write an article based purely on speculation, as many imbeciles with the press do."
Tim nods, listens.
"I went to Arkham yesterday evening," Vicki is saying. "One of the staff tells me that not too much before Mr. Drake's... withdrawal from the asylum, he had a major mental break for a couple days. Just after his incident with the Joker."
Tim touches his temples. His headache is getting worse.
"That's unfortunate that he told you that. We, his family, remain uninformed."
"Jason Todd is dead."
Damian glances at Tim, then continues to stare in front of him at the carpet. "What does she mean, Drake?"
"Jason Todd is dead."
Tim is rather tired of Victoria Vale causing him to slide backwards. He wants to get better. He wants to be fine and happy and Tim again. Damian glances at him again.
"The sedative they had me on," Tim says quietly, "it gave me a headache, afterwards, made me irritable. Sick." Tim looks at the ceiling, scratching off more peeling skin. "And one of the staff members told me Jason was dead." Tim's mouth twists. He stops talking. He doesn't want to talk anymore.
"Jason Todd is dead, Mr. Drake-Wayne. It appears he was killed in the aftermath of Batman's disappearance. After his escape."
Damian looks at him, an odd look on his face. "...Drake?"
Tim purses his lips. His headache is now close to mind-numbing. Vicki needs to leave so he can get some medicine. And so he can wash his hands.
He wipes his arm under his nose (it itches) and it comes away wet and warm.
He looks down, wondering if he has a cold. He sees blood, slowly drying on his thumb and wrist.
"Drake?" Damian says again. Tim leans back against the wall and shuts his eyes. His head hurts. "Drake, look at me!" He hears Damian stand up. "Grayson! Todd!"
He also hears Conner. "Tim, man? Are you okay? I'm sorry, for being such an ass, but open your eyes okay? We need to get some tissues for that nosebleed. Tim?"
Tim sighs.
"Jason Todd is dead."
"No, he isn't."