TIME TO IMPLEMENT DR. WILSON'S NEW PLAN. OHBOYOHBOY. Enjoy this chapter, all! And thank you so much for all your support and comments!


"Who has been the quietest lately, Tim?" Tim sits, hands folded in his lap. He wishes Jason were here, but he is still upstairs, asleep. He swallows.

"Bart. Bart hasn't spoken much recently. I have still seen him, though," Tim doesn't know why he says this. Maybe to save his friend's life now where he couldn't before. Dr. Wilson nods and steeples his fingers, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Okay. We're going to do this with him. Alright?"

No, no, no, it's not alright, no.

"I guess." His voice cracks. This is a daunting task that he isn't sure he's ready for. He doesn't want to be ready for this.

"Pretend I'm not here and reach out for Bart."

Tim does as he's asked, panic rising with every breath.

"Hey Tim I didn't think you'd ever contact me directly."

Tim feels awful. "Hey, Bart. Are you... okay?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm okay. You don't look to good though, haven't looked quite the same since Arkham, though I guess I understand why." Tim shuts his eyes for a moment and sighs. He takes a deep breath, because Bart needs to know what he's doing. "I know, already, by the way."

Tim flinches.

"It's okay. I've been waiting." His words of slowed down and he has a sad smile on his face. "You need to get better, and not one of us is helping. I need to go. You know it, and I know it." Tim bites his lower lip and clenches his fists on his knees.

You don't have to go.

"Yes, Tim, I do." His friend shrugs. "Besides, me... freeing you... doesn't mean I'm gone. Whether or not I'm just your delirium, I'll always be sort of here, as long as you don't forget about me. Haven't you seen cheesy movies where stuff like this happens on a regular basis? Oh. Wait. No. I forget, you have lived under a rock for your whole life."

"What if I do forget?" Tim says quietly.

"You have an eidetic memory, don't even try to make the excuse that you might forget, fearless leader." Bart smiles. "And anyway... I'm already gone."

Bart disappears and Tim feels nothing. Where Bart was always sort of there there is nothing. He can only sense Conner and Stephanie. Kon's voice rings in his head.

He's going to kill us.

It may have been his own panic thinking, but Tim stands anyway, narrowly missing his root beer, balanced delicately on the arm of the sofa. "I can't do this," he says to himself. "I can't do this." He runs for the bathroom, and slams the door behind him, locking it and pressing his weight against the wood. He hears Dr. Wilson running up the stairs after him, Dick and Damian getting woken from their sleep. He does not hear Jason.

He had just killed Bart.

Tim looks at his hands, and sees spatterings of blood all over them. He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut and opens them. There are no bloodspots. But, to him, that doesn't mean he didn't kill Bart.

His eyes sting and his throat closes up. He rests his forehead against his knees, pulled up against his chest, and beings to cry. Silent sobs shake his shoulders. He cannot do this again. He can't do it to Stephanie and he most certainly cannot do it to Conner.

He's going to kill us.