| [Jan. 30th, 2010|10:00 pm] |
Tim took a deep breath and decided he allowed himself enough time to think about the past. He had work to do. He came down the fire escape, quiet from his training, and heard knocking as he came inside. He slowed his steps, pressing his back toward the wall, then allowed peeked around the corner.
If his jaw could hit the floor, the sound would be audible.
Dick was here? If that was the case, Bruce couldn't be far behind.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have know they'd be here that fast. They probably had me pegged at Heathrow.
He could wait until Dick left and pretend he wasn't there. He could let Dick walk away and then go on as if nothing had happened. As it happened, he stepped around the corner and exposed himself, his hands staying in his pockets.
"Hey, Dick." Tim said. Dick would notice that Tim's voice was somewhat deeper now, and his posture signaled that he was relaxed, but ready for action at any moment. But the biggest change Dick would see were Tim's eyes; once upon a time, Tim Drake was a kid who smiled easily at danger, no matter which Freak was standing across from them. Tim wasn't the showman that Nightwing was, but he never lost the sense of joy or carefree attitude that came with being the Boy Wonder.
The man across from Dick Grayson resembled that boy in facial features only, and that resemblance was fading fast. Tim's eyes held what most people called 'the Thousand-Yard Stare', the look of a man who wears every horror he's seen on his soul and aged ten years for all of them.
"Why did you come here? How far behind you is Bruce?" Tim asked, not moving from his spot. |
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