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Fear-Based Responses

By Arlene

Tim:

Can't let go. Whatever I do, I can't let go.

I can't show him how much the stuff's affecting me. Okay, yeah, I took the antidote, but I know the toxin's not totally out of me yet. Crap. I'm still shaking. I try to hide my hands in the folds of my cape, hoping that he didn't catch that. Of course, him being who he is, I'm pretty sure he saw it.

I try to concentrate on other stuff to distract me. The hum of the Car. The slight whoosh of trees and rocks as we pass by. Think of anything but That.

They've gotta come up with a stronger anti-toxin 'cuz this just sucks.

I stare straight ahead. I can't close my eyes 'cuz I know what I'll see if I do. I sneak a peek at Batman, and he's clenching his jaws. Disapproval. I've gotta keep a tighter rein on my emotions.

For once, I'm grateful he's not talking to me. In the beginning, it used to unnerve me, the silence, but I figured out that it was just his way of processing. If I'd screwed up royally, he'd be biting my head off right now. So I guess I did okay? Or is he waiting 'til we get back so he can use visual aids to show me what I did wrong? And then rip me a new one afterwards, of course. I'm starting to wonder if paranoia is a side effect of the latest toxin.

We pull into the Cave, and Alfred's there, I'm out of the Car, and Alfred's arm is wrapped around me. And I let go now 'cuz I know I'm safe.

When we reach the medbay, I can hear Dick railing at Bruce. Dude's got some mouth on him. Probably all that time with Arsenal. Alfred takes a sample of blood to do a tox screen and shoos me off to take a shower.

I can still hear Dick talking when I get out, but I'm so dead on my feet that I'm not even paying attention anymore. If they wanna kill each other, 'scool with me. I'm goin' t'bed. Something warm and strong guides me to the elevator. Musta blacked out 'cuz next thing I know, I'm in bed. Wait. Need something.

"alfie, please, light…?"

Last thing I see is Alfred's smile in the soft glow of a lamp.