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The room was thick with the stench of iron. Blood seeped into the hotel's crisp sheets, staining the blank canvas crimson.
Pru was still gasping for breath, her struggling lungs the only sound he could hear beyond the ringing in his own ears.
He knew they would never make it. The nearest hospital was hours away, and this wasn't something he could treat himself.
Tim didn't know what to do.
After all the compromises he had made. All the sacrifice. All the pain. After enduring the disbelief of his friends and family. After feeling like he had lost himself—this was how it ended: bleeding out in a hotel room thousands of miles from home.
Tim choked out a small sob at the unfairness of it all, his stomach still radiating pain.
I wish Bruce were here.
It was almost funny, wasn't it? That's what it all boiled down to. Tim missed Bruce, and Bruce wasn't here. He missed him so badly that he'd gone out and gotten himself killed trying to bring him back.
Was it worth it? came the ghost of his brother's voice.
Tim didn't know.
Would it be worth it if he wasn't there to see it?
It had to be.
He refused to die for nothing. He just had to make sure he gave someone the evidence before it was too late.
-
It took longer than it should have. The world kept shifting, fading in and out of focus, but somehow Tim managed to reach the burner phone in his utility belt, his body screaming in protest at the movement. With shaking fingers, he tapped at the blood-smeared screen and dialed a familiar number. It took two attempts before the call finally began to ring.
"Hello?" the man on the other end answered.
Tim did his best to keep his voice steady. "Dick?"
"Tim? Is that you?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, thank God! Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just wanted to call."
Tim muted the phone as he fought back the sob clawing its way up his throat.
"Where are you? I haven't heard from you in weeks!"
Tim drew the deepest breath he could manage before unmuting himself.
"Look, can we just... what are you doing?"
Dick caught on faster than Tim expected. He could practically hear the effort it took for him to swallow every question. "Right. Okay. Um... I just finished dinner, and I was about to gear up for patrol."
Tim closed his eyes, focusing on his brother's voice.
"What'd you have?"
"Crab-stuffed mushrooms," Dick answered, his clipped tone betraying his anxiety. "What about y—"
"Any sides?"
There was a brief hesitation.
"Tim, I really just need to know if—"
"I can go." His voice sounded small, even to himself.
"No! Please, I just..." Dick's shaky breath felt like a knife through the phone's speaker.
Tim was doing this wrong. He'd done everything else wrong, and now he was ruining this too.
The room fell silent, and he refused to think about how even Pru had stopped making noise. Don't turn around.
"Could we just talk for a second?" He hated how desperate the words sounded.
Turning away, he buried his face in the pillow. Please don't leave me alone. He couldn't say. I don't want to die alone.
All he could feel was the stiffening body beside him and the slow failure of his own. Every breath came harder than the last, blood pooling on his tongue.
He knew he should tell Dick about the evidence he'd found on Bruce and hang up.
He just... He wasn't ready yet.
"Okay, kid. Okay." Dick's voice trembled. "I don't... um... what do you want me to... I just..." The words tumbled out faster as his breathing grew ragged. "Tim, please tell me you're okay. I can't—I can't do this again. Tim, please, where are you? Maybe someone's nearby. I can—"
Dick was crying now.
Tim shoved his face deeper into the pillow, biting into the fabric to muffle his own sobs.
"Tim! Tim, sweetheart, please tell me what's going on!"
Sweetheart.
That was Bruce's word.
The last fragile piece of Tim unraveled.
"It's not fair." The words came out broken and warbled.
"What's not fair, Tim? What's happening? Maybe—"
"There's a—" His voice caught as he struggled for air. His vision narrowed into a tunnel.
He had to get this out. "Iraq... one-two-eight-seven-three." He coughed violently, blood filling his mouth. "You have to... the drive... it's all on the drive... can you..." He gasped for another breath. "One-two-eight-seven-three."
"TIM! DON'T YOU DARE DO THIS TO ME! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO—oh God!" Tim heard Dick retching on the other end of the line.
"'M sorry." The words were barely more than breath. He only hoped Dick heard them. "Love you."
"TIM, PLEASE! I CAN'T DO THIS! PLEASE DON'T GO! I CA—"
Tim tried to hold on to his brother's voice, but his hearing was fading. He tried to say something else, but the words didn't come.
Wasn't there something more he was meant to—
Something he was supposed to—
Too late.
The world faded.