Yes, I am alive. I am SO sorry for the wait, shit's been crazy. I know none of you care for my boring excuses so here you go! Enjoy!

Tim

"Dick calm down, I'm literally outside of the hospital right now. What's wrong?" Tim asks between yawns, dragging a heavy hand through his damp unkempt hair.

"Kori called me right before she left. She sounded really upset, apparently Jason had some sort of psychotic break and had to be restrained. The doctors tried to talk to her about his treatment plan but she doesn't understand human medicine and freaked out on them so you'll have to sign off on his transfer and his treatment changes when you get there." Dick's voice comes tight and weighty with anxiety through the phone. A chill races up Tim's spine and the heavy feeling that had settled on his shoulders seems to triple in weight.

"Ok." He replies tightly. "I'll update you later." Tim cuts the call before Dick can respond and before he does something stupid and have a panic attack. He takes a few minutes to breathe through the fluttering in his chest, placing a hand over his heart in some numb attempt to slow it's beating manually. He tries to distract himself, turning his focus to a particularly hefty squirrel who is having a hard time scaling the nearby tree. Although he watches on with focused intent, Tim's brain has no interest in changing the subject. Time slips by for a while and it takes until Tim had to sit down from dizziness to realize he's been hyperventilating. He sinks into the bench he's occupying and thinks back to the few times he's been with Jason when he's had a panic attack and what he would do to calm himself down. An ocean appears in his head and he begins to breathe with the waves, his thumb touching to each of his fingers one after the other until the tingling in his extremities diminishes and he feels grounded enough to stand and walk into the hospital.

He's met outside of Jason's room by a particularly exhausted looking woman, Jason's general surgeon Dr. Messic and his neurosurgeon Dr. Graham. Dr. Messic greats Tim with a soft smile and gestures for him to sit in a nearby chair as they take seats across from him. The entire situation screams danger but he does as he's told, sinking stiffly into the hard plastic.

"Tim this is Dr. Young, one of our top psychologists. Dr. Young, this is Todd's brother Tim." Dr. Graham begins. Tim flashes a nervous smile and Dr. Young greats it kindly.

"Tim, we'd like to discuss your brother's treatment plan with you. Since you're eightteen and, according to the will your grandfather brought in, your brothers power of attorney, it's imperative that you know what is going to happen." Dr. Young says gently. She's a stern looking woman, one you can tell has seen a lot in her line of work and Tim wants to give her the respect and attention she is due but he can't seem to wrap his head around one part of what she just said. One, Jason has a will? Since when? And two, he picked Tim of all people to be his decision maker? He blinks foggily at her for a moment before Dr. Messic reaches out and pats his hand softly. Tim laughs quietly to himself and pinches the bridge of his nose sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a little out of it. Please continue."

"We understand that this can be very overwhelming for you. If you need to take some time-" Dr. Young begins. Tim stops her with a wave of his hand.

"I'm fine. Really." He insists, doing his best to also convince himself.

Dr. Young nods and looks to her left for Dr. Graham to continue.

"As you know Tim, your brother's brain injuries are of the most concern here. He was originally scheduled to be moved into a regular patient room today, but because of his incident yesterday not only did he rip his abdominal stitches but the swelling in his brain his back. If it gets any worse I will have to go back in and relieve the pressure by taking more of his skull to allow his brain to swell." Dr. Graham finds Tim's tired eyes and waits for him to nod in understanding before sitting back and letting Dr. Young say her piece.

"Tim, we'll need Jason to be cleared by a member of our psych team here before he can be released. Obviously he is far from a physical recovery at this point anyway, but it is important that you are aware of the amount of work that will need to be done to get him ready to leave on a mental level. His episode a few hours ago was not uncommon for people with his amount of trauma but if you are willing, I have a few questions about his past that could give us a better idea of what we're dealing with."

"Of course. I'll answer whatever questions you have the best I can. Anything to help." Tim responds eagerly. He moves to stand when Dr. Messic stops him gently.

"Just one more thing." She begins. "Your brother keeps refusing medication. Do you know why that is?"

"His mom, we're adopted brothers, his birth mom was an addict. He's just scared of being like her." Tim answers. The three across from him nod sympathetically, and Dr. Messic makes a note in her chart.

Dr. Messic and Dr. Graham stand to leave, taking their piercing sympathy with them. Tim does his best to shake the feeling of their eyes from his skin but the sensation clings to him like morning dew. The air continues to increase in weight and he takes a moment to reset his shoulders before diving into Dr. Young's questions. The questions drag on for nearly an hour and range from everything to how their relationship is, to Jason's past with mental instability. Which in all honesty Tim had no idea how to answer. Eventually the nice woman smiles and disappears into the long and winding hallways, leaving Tim under the cold yellow of a hospital light bulb, still trying to regain his composure.

Slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal, Tim heaves himself out of the stiff plastic chair and begins the weighty walk to Jason's door. Once outside something stops him, it pushes on the top of his shoulders and forces itself down his spine, compressing each vertebrae as it goes. Settling in his feet, Tim feels it's impossible to move at all. The fact he's standing seems like a miracle. It has been so long since he's felt exhaustion like this. One of a mind poisoned body.

Through the wire-hashed glass by his head Tim hears a small sound, not a word exactly or a cry, just a simple exhalation of pent up something. A defeat maybe? Could a defeat really be so soft? But that isn't a question that Tim has an answer to.

He doesn't remember walking in, turning the knob, stepping inside, taking a seat in the chair by Jason's head. He doesn't remember taking out his phone, calling Dick and talking for twenty minutes. Suddenly he was just here, his laptop screen staring him down from his lap and his hands tangled in his hair hard enough to burn his scalp.

News footage of the shooting plays in a loop before him, the pistol sounds again and again and again. Tim makes no move to silence it.

"It was a blank." Comes a soft voice.

"What?" Tim straightens suddenly, nearly knocking his laptop to the ground. He discards it on the windowsill and staggers to his feet. He approaches Jason more harshly than he had planned, tripping over his own feet and nearly falling into the bed rail. Jason takes no notice, a dull gaze trapped in the ceiling tiles. Tim studies the man before him for a moment and swallows his fluttering breaths.

"What did you say Jason?" He asks again, quieter this time.

Jason sighs heavily. "It was a blank Tim. The only thing that went into his eye was his monocle." He pulls his gaze to settle on Tim's confused face and stare blankly at it. Inside Tim's head he feels like a computer that's just been shut down. He can't quite seem to process anything. How did he not catch that? How did Bruce not catch that? And why didn't Jason tell him when the beating started? Tim goes slack jawed has he tries to put the pieces together. His eyebrows furrow and he finds himself simply blinking into space.

Jason watches on, not entirely unfamiliar with this version of Tim. He grows board after several minutes and switches on the tv with a remote attached to his hospital bed. Tim eventually steps back and sinks slowly into his chair He gathers his computer onto his lap and replays the clip again. He almost laughs. He'd been so laser focused on the entry and the trajectory of the "bullet" that he hadn't even noticed the most obvious part. The exit wound. A GSW from that close would've blown the back of Cobblepot's skull off. How could all of the members in his detective family failed to notice the most blatantly obvious part?

Shame and embarrassment floods through his hands and burns his cheeks. He's a damned idiot, and he hates himself for it.

He lets himself wallow for longer than usual when Jason's sudden request for jello snaps him back into reality. Tim stands and retrieves a cup of lime jello from a bedside table, he opens it and holds it out to Jason distractedly who stares him down from bed.

"Tim. Hello?" Jason croaks from bed and Tim finally returns to his senses. He looks down with an apology already falling from his lips. Jason glances down at his swaddled arms and back to Tim in annoyance.

"Oh! Oh, right, sorry." Tim slips a spoon out of it's plastic bag and pulls a chair close enough so he can sit.

"Why'd you do it?" He asks as he slips a wobbly spoonful of jello into Jason's mouth. Jason chews thoughtfully for a few moments before answering.

"It was a part of a big master plan to overtake the iceberg lounge and get in control of the weapon and gun trade at the casino."

Tim nods slowly, offering another spoonful. "Why didn't you tell any of us?"

"Well you were off at college or whatever, and I had this whole big plan. Then everything kinda… took a turn for the worse and- well you know the rest. It doesn't matter now." Jason takes another bite of jello and Tim offers an absentminded "Yeah."

They're quiet until the jello runs out then Steph calls and Tim puts it on speaker so she can talk to Jason.

"Hey buddy, heard you had a little meltdown. You good?" Steph starts. Tim's about to barate her when Duke jumps in and does it for him. A sharp "What the fuck Steph!?" is heard from the other end of the line and Tim watches Jason almost laugh.

Tim sits back as they talk, or as Steph monologues. They don't talk about anything of importance, like Jason's condition, Bruce, or what's going on in Gotham. They actually spend an absorbent time talking about how easy it is to steal from certain stores. Tim wouldn't know, but it's apparently something Jason and Steph have bonded over. They talk for about forty-five minutes, when Steph and Duke - who have been apparently sitting on a roof- see someone getting mugged and have to go.

Tim reaches forward to grab his phone off of Jason's chest when he notices something. Jason, who has been acting fairly "normal" to say the least despite his recent episode and massive concussion, has seemed to disappear from his body entirely. Tim positions his face in front of him and stares into his vacant eyes.

"Jason? Are you in there buddy?" Tim climbs onto the side of the bed and places a hand on Jason's face. Jason's slack expression doesn't change and Tim can't help think how long he's been like this and why he hadn't noticed. "Jason? C'mon buddy, do something. Let me know you're okay." Tim pleads softly, gently patting the side of Jason's face. He continues to stare, jaw slack, eyes hollow. Tim is about get up to call a nurse when his face comes alive very suddenly.

"Woah, okay. Are you alright?" Tim asks pulling his hand away quickly and tucking it close to his chest. Jason shakes his head slightly and squints at Tim's face then lower slightly. Tim accounts the

"Did I scare you?" Jason asks softly. Tim's head tilts slightly in puzzlement, then follows his gaze to the hand Tim has tucked to his chest. He releases it quickly and flushes red. Jason furrows his brow lightly and finds Tim's face again.

"No. No, you didn't scare me. Just… startled me is all." Tim provides, quickly plastering a smile on his reddened cheeks and moving to slide off the bed. Jason makes no move to stop him and watches on with a hazy guilt in his bloodshot gaze. Tim curls back into his provided hospital chair and buries his face in his laptop until the heat in his cheeks diminishes. After a few minutes the tension bleeds away and the two sit in comfortable silence. A silence that doesn't last long.

"I'm sorry." Jason says almost too quiet to hear.

"It's okay Jason you didn't scare me. Promise." Tim responds shortly.

"About everything. About all of it. I'm sorry." Jason continues.

Tim goes icy cold in his chair. "Jason we've talked about this. You weren't right in your head it's not your fault."

"Doesn't mean I'm not sorry Tim." Jason replies, considerably harsher this time. Tim almost jolts from the sudden tone shift but when he looks up to face the man, he's looking solemnly down at his hands.

"Jason-" He starts, raising slowly from his seat.

"Just stop." Jason says with a heavy sigh. "Just stop. Can't you just accept my apology so I can-"

"So you can what Jason? I'm not going to accept it because that wasn't you. Okay? Just drop it." Tim interjects, pacing a hole in the floor.

"Tim-" Jason tries again.

"No! Stop okay? Stop acting like this is it! I'm going to be the one to give you the closure you need to give up! I won't. I won't do that." Tim throws his hands down onto the rail at the end of the bed and hangs his head for a moment. Jason plops his head back on his pillow and balls his hands into fists as much as he can.

"I don't want to be here anymore, Tim." Jason whispers to the ceiling.

"We could move you to a nicer-" Tim starts

"Tim." he says shortly. They meet eyes and finally a small understanding passes between them.

"No. No Jason." Tim waves his hands in some vain attempt to stop Jason's words.

"Tim, please I need you to listen to me." Jason tries again. Tim just shakes his head and tries to fight the fire that's beginning to leak from his eyes.

"Tim, please!" Jason begs.

"Why me? Why do you need my approval to leave? Why- Why am I suddenly responsible for what happens to you?! Because I can't do that- I won't do that."

"Because you're the only one who listens!" Jason shouts.

"Well I'm sorry but I can't listen now." Tim says sharply, turning to pack his things.

"Your the only one who doesn't think you have to fix me!" Jason yells desperately. He winces at the sound and Tim drops his backpack and move to his side.

"Just stop, okay? Get some sleep and we can talk when you're better okay?" Tim says in that squeaky voice he gets when he's trying not to cry.

"You see me as a real person. Dick has never listened. He and Bruce and the girls always know best. I'm just a child to them Tim, someone who couldn't possibly know anything." Jason says distractedly, eyes gone hazy with pain and exhaustion. Those eyes find Tim's face and hold fast. "I've lived through enough to earn the right to know when I've had enough."

Tears have started openly flowing down Tim's cheeks. The grief has left Jason's face and only a sollum pleading remains.

"I'm so sorry I put this on you little brother." Jason says weakly, grasping on to Tim's hand. "But please don't make me stay. Please Tim. Don't make me stay. Please."

Not knowing what else to do, Tim climbs up next to him and holds on as tightly as he dares. The two of them stay that way, wrapped in a messy embrace, Tim whispering soft assurances through his now hiccuping sobs and Jason slurring out quiet but truthful apologies. Tim stays long after Jason has relented to sleep, still squeaking out small choked words of forgiveness into the now silent air.

Eventually, Tim peels himself away and, still trembling, makes his way to the sink to wash his face. Staring at himself in the mirror, all he can do is ask all the questions he doesn't have answers to. Rage overtakes grief after a while and all he wants to do is punch or kick or smash something. Or scream, scream away every bad thing that's ever happened. But he can't. So Tim sinks to the floor with all of those things still swimming around inside him. And there, on the hospital floor, Tim Drake truly falls apart.

I hope you guys liked it! Things just keep getting darker and darker and I honestly have no idea how to stop it. I re-wrote the ending to this chapter six times! Anyway, I just stared a new semester at college so hopefully I get in a good groove and the next chapter will be easier to write! No matter how long it takes I WILL NOT FORGET ABOUT THIS FIC! I promise! It haunts my dreams every night, so don't worry! Also, happy 2020!

Until next time,

MS