I hadn't seen the bat-family in days. Well, to me it seemed like days. They didn't look any different. They didn't look like five years of their lives had passed. If I looked close enough I could make out worry lines and dents in each face. Each happy expression wore a mask of pain, a pain I couldn't help but feel I caused.

Tim was pale and thin, he looked at me with deep eyes that I hadn't seen him wear. Honestly, he seemed to be the only one at the faux "reunion" who wasn't wearing a smile. His face was somber and my mind flashed back to a different time. I remembered cradling his broken body in my arms as Jason watched from afar, unable to help as I thought I would lose another brother. It seemed the event had taken its toll on him, even though no one seemed to have noticed.

Jason expertly steered me around the manor, as if it had changed at all. He navigated me through the door, with a protective arm around my waist. It was strange for me, now that I had been awake for a few days. It was as if the world went through a skip and left me out of it.

"You should stay here." Bruce forced a smile and put a large hand on my shoulder. I hadn't managed to get back my lacking muscle tone, and standing beside hulking Bruce made me feel even more self-conscious about it. "I can have the best doctors looking after you."

"It's okay, I think Jason can look out for me." He cleared his throat and looked at his feet after a moment. Being raised by a detective, I could only assume that Damian had told him that Jason and I were a couple, if that was what we were. I highly doubt Jason would have known, he never had much contact with Bruce when I was upright in the first place.

"Master Dick. It is so good to see you again; I presume you are feeling better?" If anyone could alleviate the tension in the Wayne Manor it was Alfred. God Bless his soul.

"Much better." I wandered to him, leaving Bruce and Jason to stand awkwardly side by side. Alfred led me into the kitchen adjacent to the dining room. "What's for dinner?"

"Well, Master Wayne insisted that I am not to let you have anything to bland, assuming you have been eating that for far too long. So, I prepared a filet mignon." He said with no emotion. After years, I still couldn't tell if Batman had learned that trick from him or if he had learned it from the Batman.

"Fancy." I commented, watching him pull a hunk of meat from the refrigerator and tossed it on a wood cutting board next to me. "Can I ask you a question? Off the record?"

He turned his back to me and rummaged in the spice cabinet, pulling random rubs and seasonings out, not looking up.

"Of course." He set them down and then walked over to a different corner of the kitchen to grab a steak knife.

"How was Bruce? I mean, I can guess how he acted when I was gone. But this whole family looks different. Tim looks…darker." I wanted to ask about Jason, but I didn't think he'd have any knowledge of that. Jason was never one to come to any member of the family, especially for some kind of emotional trouble.

He sighed, weighing his words carefully.

"Master Wayne is Master Wayne, you must understand that by now." He went about slicing the meat into five equal pieces. "Master Timothy has had some difficulties, though I believe he will fare better now that you are here."

"Problems?" Jason came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist, a comforting gesture, I hated being the only one not knowing what was going on. Alfred looked up to Jason, a warning glance. Jason nodded and the Alfred looked back to me.

"Master Timothy was shot, several times by the Joker, only to live. He being alive right now is only a testament to his strength." He paused, lips stretched into a thin line on his tired face. "In many ways the act was like what happened to Miss Gordon. But then again, not. The Joker may have failed in killing you, but he attacked you in safe places, your homes. Master Timothy was alone, he was unarmed an unprotected. I'm afraid we may never know the extent of what physical and mental torture he put that boy through, before the Joker assumed he would be left for dead."

Jason tightened his grip on my waist and I shivered, not from the cold. It was an involuntary shiver, coursing through my nerves. It tore from the very feeling of disgust and hatred that I harbored for the Joker. He killed my brother and tortured another, for what? It was all too much.

"You should talk to him." Alfred looked back down to the steak, tossing random spices on the raw hunks. Suddenly, I wasn't in any mood to eat, especially some bloody piece of meat. "He spoke of you."

"What did you do while I was gone?" I looked back up to Jason. His eyes wandered off, back into that dark place.

"I visited you every day in the beginning." He began. "I came here, attempting to mend my relationship with this family."

Alfred nodded absentmindedly, tossing the spices into the cabinet and reading the label on another.

"I not hated, I guess. But I'm not exactly royalty." He paused. "They only trust me because they saw that I really cared about you."

"Has there been any trouble from the Joker?" I looked back to him and his eyebrows knitted together.

"No, he was in Arkham for breaking into Wayne Manor and shooting a man. He had some crazy raving about Bruce Wayne being Batman." He smiled a bitter smile.

"Wow. He actually told people?" I tilted my head to the side and walked with him to the dining room away from the smells in the kitchen.

"Not many, and no one believed him anyway. Bruce upped the parties and social events for a few months after while having me parade around as Batman in public." He chuckled. "I wanted to help out after all of the pain."

"Well that must have been fun." I ignored the words left unspoken. He thought he caused all of it. But that was debate for a different time. "Where was Tim during all this?"

His gaze clouded. "He wasn't around much in the first few months, mentally anyway. He was ghostly pale, really quiet. I always saw him when I came back to the Batcave from my runs. Bruce would be out, being social, God knows it killed him. But yea, I'd come drive into the cave and he'd be sitting in the cave, not moving. He wouldn't say anything or even acknowledge my presence. It's like he was stuck in that room with the Joker reliving whatever he did to him."

"What do you think happened?" I asked as he led me back to the table.

"I don't know. But it's bad enough. I was never like that when Joker took his swings at me." He pulled out a chair for me and I promptly sat down, head of the table. "Whatever he did to that kid, it wrecked him, and he was tougher than me. It must have been brutal."

I nodded as he sat down to my right. Damian sauntered in, looking like the demonic teenager I always knew he'd turn out to be. He was stoic now, like his father. The only emotion I saw was when I had woken up at his side.

Bruce walked in fast, taking the seat across from me, attempting to smile as he did so. He failed miserably, one of these days he would forget how to do it altogether.

Tim walked in, glancing my way before sitting to my left, eyes down. I could see it all now, how broken he was. I needed to talk to him, I needed to help him. His eyes darted around the table again as Alfred walked in with the plates. My gaze stay fixed on him as I watched him fiddle with his fingers under the table.

He looked up, directly at me. I had never seen blue eyes so cold before. They were icy, fearful. He made no move to hide it from me, the Joker had broken his soul.

Author's Note

Special thanks to danvseveryone for helping me out with this chapter and tying Tim into it. Please review! Thank you!