Finally an update, and it's just a little one. It's taken me awhile to get back into the swing of things, but I got most of another chapter written too, I just have to refine some of the plot points. Here's a non plot moving chapter to set up some scenery.

...

Tim woke up in a soft bed to the touch of a warm tropical breeze. His hand rubbed the sleep from his face as he sat up and assessed his surroundings.

It took a moment for it to all sink in. He was in his recently assigned room at Slade's. He was wearing blue scrub pants. He had a thick bandage over his neck that extended past his left shoulder. The shoulder hurt when he moved his arm.

It comes back to him slowly. The Joker had put something in him, Slade had removed it. A cold chill runs through him that he quickly pushes aside. That part is done, move on, his mind tells him.

He eased himself out of the bed, only half his mind acknowledged that the windows were open, that it was night, and the lights were off. No matter, he did not need lights, he was a bat. He stops himself there, he was a bat. It is now a past tense statement. He allows himself a moment to reel while that sinks in.

A precursory search through the dresser turned up a clean white tee shirt, further fortified with that, he heads to the door. Hand on the knob, he listens before he turns it, only silence on the other side. The knob turns, unlocked, as promised.. Tim takes a deep breath and opens the door. One small step for Tim, One Giant step for Timkind. Stepping out into the hallway, Tim felt like he should be stopped, or reprimanded, but no admonishment came. The hallway was deserted, the lights off. He quickly orientated himself, going the way he remembered arriving. It wasn't a hard house to figure out, and he didn't even realize he was hungry until he found the kitchen. Neither was it a hard kitchen to figure out, a turkey sandwich was quickly procured. Sliced turkey breast wrapped whole in the fridge, the bread box was where it should be, there was even mayo in the door fridge, in a plain unlabeled jar. The bread, the turkey, heck, even the mayo gave the impression of being home baked, home cooked, and homemade.

Something, some element reminded him of home. Home. Two ideas crossed his mind at once, and he could never say what hit him first, this is my home now, or perhaps, it's just like Alfred's. The bread was nostalgic to say the least, soft and sliced thick.

The kitchen light flicks on while he eats. He flinches, expecting Slade, but it's not. It's the butler, Wintergreen. If Wintergreen was surprised to find him here, it never shows. Curious how much he reminds him of Alfred.

When he speaks the accent reminds him of Alfred, "I see you found your way around the kitchen"

Tim doesn't reply, he gives a small fake smile and a single jerk of his chin to indicate affirmative.

"Well I was going to offer to make you something, no point of that now" His body language was wrong. He was laid back and casual, his collar wasn't buttoned, he didn't even have his tie or jacket with him. The butler opened a cubboard and pulled out a bottle of brown liquor, whiskey if Tim wasn't mistaken. He poured it neat into a lowball glass. "Don't supposed you'd care for a tip of this?" He gestures to Tim with the glass, the brown liquor sloshing around. Tim didn't flinch, but he also didn't reply. "No? Just as well, not sure Slade would approve"

"You enjoying the island?" Tim doesn't even know how to reply to that, his experiences here have been largely unconscious. So he doesn't reply at all. The old man doesn't even seem to notice. "Can't say I mind it, does wonders for my old bones, we can't all be spry as him forever, can we?"

Spry as him forever? Tim's not even clear who Wintergreen is referencing.

"Is Slade here?" Tim asks

"Oh, he has a tongue then" The man was distancing himself from Alfred, miles by the moment. That's not a reply though, Tim wants to know.

"So he's here?"

"Not currently, left 6 or 7 hours ago"

"Oh" Where did he go, what is Tim supposed to do until he gets back? "What time is it?"

"Close to four A.M. I suppose. Fancy a walking tour of the island?"

"Now? Isn't it a bit late in the night for that?" Four A.M. Tim roughly estimates he's been out for close to 18 hours. What did Slade inject him with?

"Well we're both up, I'm not likely to sleep anytime soon, and neither are you if I were to guess. Now is as good a time as any" He's definitely much more... chipper, perhaps, or laid back, then Alfred ever was.

Tim considers the offer for just a moment. "I'll need to grab some shoes"

"Don't bother, you'll just get sand in them" Wintergreen says as he gestures towards the door.

They exit through a back door, not the grand manor entrance he remembered. A bright moon illuminates their walk "House was originally built as a vacation manor for some sheik or another, I'm sure you'll get to know the home itself soon enough, grounds could use a proper going after, but they'll have to do for now."

The green lawn he remembered arriving at the island is already yellowing. "Pool's there, it's clean for now, not sure how long I'm going to bother keeping it up though, don't even see why with all this ocean about." Tim can see the moon reflecting in the pools pale surface. Even in the dark he can see cracks running through the concrete that form it. First cracks in the facade of this whole manor.

"Another one inside of course, probably, bit wasteful but no one asked me. Tennis is next to, and I am pleased to announce that I have successfully removed most of the weeds, should you wish to challenge my tennis supremacy", Tim's eyes follow his finger. The tennis courts at Wayne manor were always inscrutable, but he can not recall ever using them, here he can see the fence encroached by the island brush. "Stable" Wintergreen's finger moves to point to a distant structure barely visible in the light. "Empty now though, shame, I'd fancy a bit of riding in the surf, but it's terribly impractical, being a secret and secluded island."

All the man man structures have been carefully cut out from the deep tropical brush that makes up the island flora. They are all built in a very English style that seems at odds with the wild around it.

"The whole island is probably about 20 acres. It's the largest out here, there's a few smaller ones within swimming distance, but most are scarcely bigger then a sandbar." Wintergreen is leading him down a sandy path towards the shore.

"We got a bit of a boat house there" Tim has to double his pace to keep up with Wintergreen's long strides. He sees barely more then a shed on the beach "Tides and beaches tend to be unpredictable, used to be on the water though I'm told. We redid the dock though" Tim sees the dock moored further out Barely more then a floating pallet. Did they land that far out when he arrived. They must have landed at low tide.

"that's about it for the man made structures, started a bit of garden on the west side, might get a few chickens if we hold out here, few miles from the grocer if you know what I mean"

"Slade cut a running trail runs up around the beach, crests the cliffs on the East side, bet you'll be getting to know that trail well enough while recuperating" Wintergreen doesn't really seem to be paying attention to Tim. Instead he sits down on the sandy beach and pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket. The lighter illuminates his face for a moment and then recedes to the dim glow of his cigarette. "Be glad to have you around, frankly,it was getting bit lonely waiting for the two of you to show up"

"how long had you been waiting here?" How long had Slade been planning for Tim? Were these plans laid when Tim was back in Spitzer? Was it before that at Shady Oaks? Or even the night Slade first found him at the Joker's. The Joker's. Tim forces himself to hold those words in his mind. Like running his tongue over a cut in his mouth to feel the pain. The Joker's.

The old man doesn't reply at first. Just smokes his cigarette. The tip glowing redder with every puff. Tim can see the smoke in the illuminating moonlight. "Long enough" he finally replies. "probably best if you don't ask me questions about Slade. At least for now"

Tim understands. In his mind though he puts it together. The old man hadn't been here long enough to acclimate to the new time zone, that's why they are both awake at four A.M. Long enough though to clear the tennis court and clean the pool. "Is there anyone else here besides us?" it seems like a valid question.

"Nope, just me, you, and army of mindless robots" The old man talks slowly as if he is choosing his words.

"Army?" Tim smiles at him, arching one eyebrow doubtfully.

Wintergreen makes a sound between a cough and a laugh"Graciously speaking, handful by a layman's terms"

"Am I permitted to know when to to expect Slade's return?" Tim asks cautiously. He understands the relationship here, he knows Wintergreen is not permitted to say too much.

"Slade always returns when he task is done" Wintergreen says without any enthusiasm and possibly a hint of irk.

Sensing a need to change the subject, Tim looks about at the grounds. "What's your next task for the grounds?" Tim asks mildly.

"I needed to water the kitchen gardens before sunrise. Maybe weed a bit before it got hot. Work on what we shall eventually call the chicken coops when there are chickens about"

"well then we should get to that before it gets hot, shouldn't we?"

The old man smiles as he squelches the cigarette in the sand and stashes it in his pocket.

Tim can just tell they are going to get along.