CAFFEINE

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— I'll put him to bed before I go... — Alfred insisted.

— Do you not trust me anymore? — Tim smiled at the butler, finishing drying the last dish used for dinner. — I think he is lying, Alfred, but I am willing to join that game too.

— If everything was as simple as a lie... — The eldest looked at Damian, who was sleeping at the table — ... It is not easy to take care of him all the time, especially when he starts with the questions.

— I already know the rules: nothing to talk about fighting crime, do not leave him alone for a long time, do not make him nervous... — the boy lifted his shoulders — He will be asleep and I will be on the computer, what could happen wrong?

Pennyworth sighed, raised his eyebrows and put his hands together. He was ready to start the long list of small actions that were suddenly catastrophic when Damian was involved - especially now, afraid of everything. Tim interrupted him before he even started:

— And you need to rest a little, Alfred... — He was worried.

— ... Let me know if anything happens... — finally, the butler surrendered — The medicine schedule is written on the boxes, just one pill. If he shows any kind of reaction...

— Alfred, I know how to take care of gremlins — Drake interrupted him again. He picked up his brother, or rather, he practically threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes — Let's be fine!

— ... I have my doubts — the butler murmured, watching them leave the kitchen.

Tim took his brother to the bedroom - he thought it was an exaggeration to put him in a new room -, threw him on the bed and thought he had done a great job - under normal circumstances, he would have left Damian sleeping in the kitchen instead of risking waking him up and being bitten, or worse. Now, he could dedicate himself to the study of simulations, which he wanted to do all day instead of sleeping.

Timmy's new night routine consisted of analyzing the results of each of the simulations, interpolating the values and trying to find the exact point at which the divergent lines start to behave strangely and reach each other. That unusual manifestation made no sense, unless something reflected them in another direction, an event in a single point that radiated through them all and...

— Mr. Pennyeorth!? — Damian called outside, in the corridor.

— ... Damian!? — the boy got up at the same time — You should be sleeping — he said when he was already opening the door.

— I woke up and there was no one with me...

— Because it is already late and Alfred is resting.

— ... And my father?

— He left with Selina. Dick had a date too and Jason went to work things out... — The boy answered even the questions that would still be asked — It's just you and me, gremlin.

— Hun... — He looked down, shy — And... Can I stay with you?

— For...?

— Just to not be alone?

— Why?

— Why don't I like to be alone?

— Wrong answer, gremlin. You don't want to be alone... — Tim walked back to bed — You can stay, but you can't touch anything — he warned, taking the laptop and starting to analyze the results again.

Damian entered the room, but stood leaning against the door. He looked at everything a little curious, mainly because the "nerdy brother" was sloppy, mainly with his own clothes: they had several bundles and plays, as well as books and magazines.

— Are you going to stand there? — The eldest smiled and indicated the edge of the bed with his eyes.

The boy was going to answer something, but changed his mind and looked at the floor. He observed the path he needed to follow until he reached the bed, full of obstacles and with nowhere to lean. He took a deep breath, armed himself with courage and tried to walk - even though he still wore the splint on his leg.

Timothy watched the little brother take the first steps alone, fumbling on the third and going straight to the ground. He, unlike the others, did not run to see how the little one was... he let Damian get up with his own hands, decide which way he would try to go and do it all over again. Alone. Independent as it has always been.

From the door to the bed, there were only ten steps, and in that small path, Damian fell four times, which gives an average of a fall for every two and a half steps, that is... pathetic. That was how the older brother judged the child lying on the ground, huddled, who gave up getting up when he was already beside the goal.

— Dami, is everything okay? — he asked when he was close to his brother, taking out a piece of paper or bran that stuck in him — Just get up and take another step...

— Kay... — the little one whispered, leaning on his hands again. He tried, but he had no breath, he did not have the strength to rise from the ground; the leg was hurting. — ... I can't... — said almost without a voice, shrinking again — Sorry…

— It's not your fault, you're just too weak — Tim comforted him, helping to get up — Did you get hurt? You fell flat on your third try...

— I'm fine — He smiled, really trying to look good, but his eyes were full of tears - tears that were not noticed by his brother.

After that, Timothy went back to his work routine: he analyzed the results, interpolated, analyzed again... Damian, he was just lying next to his brother staring at the ceiling in silence, he didn't want to disturb. So they stayed for over an hour, until the eldest finally said something:

— I'm going to get coffee... — he warned, already getting up from the bed.

— Take me with you! — Damian begged, sitting at almost the same time — I-I don't like being alone, please...!

— Ok, ok... — Tim sighed — Er... You're without sleep, right?

— ... Yes — Damian looked down — Sorry?

— Okay, gremlin, I'm also sleepless — Smiled — Do you want to stay in the kitchen for a while? Eat something?

— Not hungry... — He lifted his shoulders, but right after that he looked at his brother with green eyes shining for a simple request: — Can I keep drawing?

— Yes... — Tim went to him, helping him to get up — But only until I finished my coffee...

And so the two relocated at the kitchen table: Timothy continued to analyze his numbers on the notebook and Damian drew some of the objects he had close by. They maintained absolute silence, since they did not want to disturb each other, and remained so until the eldest made a random comment:

— I need more coffee... — he said quietly, looking at the big mug that was now empty.

— ... Do you want me to do it? I saw Mr. Pennyworth doing it several times — the youngest got up carefully, leaning on the table. He wanted to be helpful.

Tim pondered his suspicions that it was all a setup. He wondered if he could really trust that proposal and if a mug of coffee might have some hidden second intention - like an exchange of favors. In the end, he just gave a fake smile and agreed:

— Just don't try too hard.

He entered that same game as Damian: the game of make-believe. As good as the little actor was, so many falls were overkill. He wanted to know how far that little joke would go, how long that fragile appearance could be maintained...

While watching the gremlin prepare the coffee, waiting for any slip-up to be able to have some "hard evidence" against all that staging, Drake continued working on the results of the simulations. He was able to do both at the same time and very well, but it was enough for his cell phone to ring to reduce his concentration to just the short conversation:

— B? Need help? I can go to... — The voice that previously had concern and anxiety, became more indifferent: — ... ah. He's fine, everything is fine. Yes... No, he was too tired to stay... — The boy sighed — I already said that the gremlin is fine... Absolute, B. Even... — And hung up.

— Was it my father? — Damian asked while placing the mug next to his brother — ... Did he ask about me?

— Yes.

— He... — The little one paused while he adjusted himself in the chair again — ... Didn't he want to talk to me?

— I said you were already asleep.

— ... Yeah, it's too late... — Damian hid his face behind the sketchbook, drawing again — Thanks, Tim.

The older murmured something low enough that he would not be understood. He brought the mug closer to his mouth, with the coffee still smoking, and tasted it.

It was great.

There is not much secret in preparing coffee in capsules, but I expected Damian to do something wrong on purpose, which he did not do, however.

The two returned to the same silence as before: Tim was too busy with his analysis and Damian was drawing. They stayed that way for a long time, until the coffee in the mug ran out again and forced Tim to mumble his wails with himself:

— Great, no coffee and now you still decide to lock... — I was angry, trying to press some keystrokes to solve the problem, but nothing that really worked.

— I make more! — Damian said excited to help his brother once again.

— Ok, ok ... Do what you want, just be quiet, gremlin — Tim murmured, surly. He wasn't doing it badly, he was just nervous and at least trying to save the work he had done that morning.

— I'm sorry — The little one whispered and took his brother's mug carefully, afraid to disturb him and make him even more irritated.

Like a bad joke from the universe, Timmy's cell phone started to ring. He didn't want to talk to anyone, but he thought that Jason's insistence on being served could be important:

— What happened, Jay? — he asked trying to control his irritation, but all it took was a few words from the other boy to make him even more angry — I don't care if you're coming or not, I didn't need to warn you! You never call to say something like that, what happened to you!? ...What!? Of course, he's fine, I can't believe he just called for that! — Drake squeezed his temple, trying to control himself again.

— Is it Jason? — Damian asked quietly, hoping he could talk to his older brother.

— Be quiet — Tim replied to the little one, turning his attention only to the phone — No, I didn't speak to you! ... I don't know if you've noticed, but he's not a baby! ... No, Jason, I'm not treating him badly! I know how to take care of the liar perfectly well!

— ... Liar? — The little one asked almost without a voice, with teary eyes.

Timothy didn't even look at him, he continued arguing with Jason on the phone while trying to get the notebook to work again. The boy could not believe that, after so many hours interpolating values - it was almost five in the morning - he would lose progress so easily...

— Ah, Jason...! Of course you believe him, he has become your protégé! — Sighed — It's great that you're coming, I have more to do than babysit! — Turn off.

That argument could have ended in such a different way if young Drake's bad mood had not participated... Jason just wanted to know about the little brother, the helpless and innocent little brother. It was even an offense how easy that gremlin managed to deceive everyone, in Tim's view.

The boy rested his forehead on the edge of the table and covered his head with his arms, trying to think of what he could do now besides waiting. He would wait until the computer returned to answer, he would wait for Jason to arrive to continue that discussion, he would wait for Damian to finish making the coffee to send him to his room - soon Bruce would arrive and it would be bad for the child in the house to still be asleep...

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NOTE

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In an article published on December 10, 2018, on the website Tua Saúde; Angela Lana explained that research has shown hyperactivation of brain areas related to stress and anxiety, less emotional control, in people deprived of sleep. In other words, "that person will be more unstable, exploding at any moment", according to Lorenzi's translation.

Do you know anyone who's been sleeping a little, besides Bruce?

Yeah, Timothy, you're not doing this badly… it's just stupid. What did it cost you to go to bed after dinner, instead of doing complicated math?

Note to note: Timmy's room appears messy in some frames, I think he lets the mess build up when he's working on something important.