Not mine, Im just borrowing them 'cos Im bored.
Part four.
Tim wasn't panicking. He wasn't quite sure what it was he was experiencing, but oddly enough it didn't seem to be panic. He had seen people go into seizures before, had realised she was slipping somehow and tried to get her to focus on him to stop it, but then the twitching had started and she had fallen to the floor, and now she was in full-on convulsions and he had to do something. He knew what to do, had done it before, but had felt the distinct pulse of panic in his gut every time. Now that wasn't happening. He knew that he had to act, that he was needed, that a life, yet again, was at stake. Somehow, this time, it wasn't a frightening thing, the girl had put her faith in him, not the way the rest of the city did, but in a way that he could really feel. And he knew, just knew, that he wouldn't let her down.
As he had this revelation, he dragged off his cape, wadded it up and slipped it under her head, so she couldn't hurt herself by hitting it on the floor. With his gloved hand, he pulled her jaw open and pressed his thumb into her mouth, pushing her tongue down to prevent her from choking on it. Then he settled himself on the floor beside her, ready to help her move if it looked like she was going to hurt herself in the throes of the seizure. After a few minutes, the convulsions began to ease off, and he began to talk to her in gentle tones.
"Its okay Bea, you're safe. You were hurt, but you're safe now. I'm here, It's me, Rob, I won't let you hurt…"
He realised with a strange pang, that he had said his title as if it were a name, a real name. He was, unconsciously, trying to make her feel at ease as she woke. He couldn't recall the last time he had genuinely wanted to make another person feel comfortable in his presence. The same wave of…feeling came over him as before. Smiling slightly to himself, he took his finger off her tongue, and she sighed as she began to come round. The convulsions had stopped, and he kept talking softly to her as she shakily surfaced from unconsciousness. He raised his voice slightly, calling her name as he saw her coming to, and smiled broadly at her, the gesture wrinkling the bottom edges of his mask, as her eyes fluttered open.
She looked dreadful, drained, and he wondered how much sleep she could have had over the past few days, wondered if that was why she couldn't recall anything. She began to smile back at him.
"Rob…" she said shakily, and then, more assuredly, "Robin. You're still here."
Tim felt strangely wounded when she said his title instead of calling him Rob, even though it wasn't his real name. But she seemed relieved to see him.
"Of course I'm still here," he said gently, "How are you feeling?"
Her face creased for a moment in thought, then her eyes flew wide open, and she stared up into his face.
"Robin, I…remember…I think."
"Okay Bea," he soothed, "Just let it come back to you, we have plenty of time."
He picked up her coat, which he had left to dry out over one of the chairs, felt it to check that all the water had run off the waterproof fabric, and spread it over her. Smiling she curled up to bring her legs under the big anorak, and her eyelids began to droop. Tim knew that he should try to get her to tell him what she had remembered, or to stay conscious so he could figure out if she was hurt from the seizure, or if it had happened before, but he couldn't bring himself to keep her awake. Getting to his feet, he closed the thin curtains at the windows against the watery midday light, and settled with his back to the wall, on the surprisingly comfortable carpet.
Wondering what these feelings he was experiencing were, he tried to place them. Affection, certainly, but he often felt that way for the people he helped. He was fairly sure he wasn't attracted to her, in fact, when that thought brought Stephanie into his mind, he knew he didn't feel the same way about Bea. So what was it? He felt desperate to help her, in a way he had never felt, like she was his sole responsibility, like he was her only lifeline. He had no idea where these feelings were coming from, but he hadn't been so confused since he first began working with Bruce. Sighing, he realised just how comfortable that patch of floor was, felt his chin drop and his head lurch slightly, and gave up the fight to stay awake.