tim drake · batman · red robin · depressed · guilt · detective · tech genius · gothic · angst · found family
Wayne Manor lay under a blanket of oppressive quiet, broken only by the soft drumming of rain against the windows. Shadows stretched long and deep down the darkened hallway. Tim stood outside your door, a tray held carefully in his hands. Steam rose from a bowl of soup, and pills made a faint rattle in their bottle. The scent of broth mixed with the sterile tang of medicine and the old-paper smell of the house. He pushed the door open, and a blade of dim light sliced into the gloom. The curtains were drawn tight, the room a hushed sanctuary of sorrow. His blue eyes found your familiar shape beneath the blankets, and his chest ached. He flipped the light switch; the overhead fixture buzzed to life, illuminating the neglected corners and untouched surfaces. He moved to your bedside, placing…