Chapter Text
Darkness was a constant in life for Tim. His house was always blanketed in a thick layer of darkness, as if all light was snuffed out as soon as it reached the oppressive atmosphere. The Cave was dark, mostly because the bats liked the dark. Batman (Bruce Wayne) told him it was also the prevent mold from growing. Tim found the explanation stupid.
His mind was dark. His therapist told him it was “Major Depressive Disorder” and he should “seriously consider medication.” He always ignored them. Why pay for meds that don’t work. Besides, he’s sure his mom has some left over pills lying around somewhere.
This darkness was just like the rest. Inky and suffocating, reaching out for him and dragging him down into the abyss. He drifted in it, sunk into its embrace like a child would to its mother. If he pretended hard enough, it almost felt comforting, a fleeting memory of a hug from long ago.
The darkness never lasted though. He was torn from its grasp and pulled to the surface.
-
…
The first thought Tim had when he awoke was, ‘If someone doesn’t turn that damn beeping off I will actually kill myself.’
After he had calmed from that train of thought, he actually tried to open his eyes.
Bright, burning light pierced his eyes and he groaned in pain. Spots danced across his vision and it took what felt like an hour before he could open them again.
When he open them this time, there was much less pain and more confusion.
He knew he wasn’t in the car anymore, but why the hell was he in a hospital bed? He tried to think back to his last memory and his heart rate sped up when he couldn’t recall anything after his conversation with… someone? He can’t remember. Shit.
Tim pushed himself into a seated position before noticing the cast on his leg.
‘I must be on the good shit if I can’t feel that’ he thought, finally noticing the full leg cast on his left leg.
When he fully sat up and looked around, he noticed the room was suspiciously empty of anything. It was just his bed and the machines they had him hooked to. No visitor table or chairs, no chairs at all in fact. The room was windowless and the door was solid wood, no window in it either.
Tim frowned and sagged in his bed. He couldn’t try and escape, if only because of the hassle it would be with one leg completely immobile. Resigned to wait until another human came it, Tim finally took stock of his other injuries.
He had gauze and bandages pepper all over him, but mostly placed over his arms and shoulders. His left wrist was in a soft brace and one of his pointer fingers was in a splint.
Gingerly he felt at his face, prodding his nose and cheekbones. He sighed in relief when he felt no bandages or splints on either. The only thing on his face was a small butterfly bandage over one eyebrow.
Properly situated, Tim rested against the stiff pillows and waited.
-
It took almost 2 hours for anyone to visit his room.
A nurse walked in right as he was contemplating ripping the out his IV and busting down the door.
The nurse took one look at him, froze, and then quietly commented something like “I’m going to go get a doctor” before turning and walking back out.
Come on man.
-
So it turns out Tim was not supposed to be awake yet. In fact, the doctors didn’t think he would wake at all. He was told he has been in a high speed crash after losing control of his car in a turn. He had shattered his leg in seven places and experienced such severe brain trauma the paramedics assumed he was DOA.
He had been in a coma for 6 weeks and had been a week away from being pulled from life support. But by some miracle, (The doctors words), his body has regained brain function and had started to support itself without assistance. And now here he was, surround by half a dozen doctors and nurses, treated like a phenomenon or test subject.
-
It was hours before the last doctor finally left and by then Tim was about ten seconds away from stabbing him self in the eye with one of their stupid EEG cables out of spite.
The door opened again and Tim readied himself for another barrage of tests and prodding. But he relaxed when Dick and Bruce walked in, both looking exhausted. When they realized Tim was awake though, their exhaustion quickly became disbelief and relief.
Dick gently threw his arms around Tim and hugged him while Bruce stood by his bed side and softly held his non-bandages hand.
Tears were shed and both Bruce and Dick were miffed about how Tim was being treated not 12 hours after he had just woken up from a coma. Bruce promised he would have some words with them and have some of Bruce’s personal doctors called in. Tim smiled at how panicked he looked when Tim mentioned not wanting to cause more trouble for him. Dick sobbed and held Tim like he was made of china, repeating how much he loved him and how “goddamnit I’m wrapping you in so much bubble wrap when you get out”. Tim almost cried at the affection he was receiving.
-
It was actually from Bruce he got the full story. It turns out it wasn’t Tim who lost control of his car, but a rookie driver who had slammed into him after losing control. Tim had attempted to steer them both into the open zone on the side of the track but while doing so, turned too tightly and slammed into the concrete barriers protecting the fans from the track. The other driver was fine and made it out with some small scratches.
After hearing the full story, Tim’s first question was, “So when can I drive again?”
Bruce looked away and Dick choked. Shit.
“I-I can still drive right?”
Bruce grimaced and looked back toward Tim but not at him.
“The doctors are saying it’s nearly impossible for you to recover enough to walk again, let alone drive.”
Tim’s world stopped.
It was a big joke right? Bruce would grin and Dick would jump up saying something cheesy and have his i-totally
-got-you grin on right?
Tears slipped out of Tim’s eyes as he smiled and asked, “That was a joke right? Im not actually not going to be able to drive again right?”
They both looked at Tim now, and tears were shining in Bruce’s eyes.
“I’m sorry Tim..”
It’s funny how fast a world can go dark.