I have to ring the bell.
No, I can't.
I'm not him. I'm not him. I am NOT him. Tim Drake laid in his room, covered in blood, glass shards in his entire body. A huge piece of glass in his back.
Earlier that day, Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth left him at the house alone so they could help Lucius Fox choose a prom dress for his daughter. Tim had to study for finals, and he had his tuxedo, so he stayed home.
At six PM, he stopped studying to go eat. He turned to meet face-to-face with Bane. Everything was a real blur. Tim remembered getting slammed backwards into his computer then through through his glass balcony doors. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fight the strong man back. What was I thinking... Batman can't even take him on. How could I have been so stupid? Now he laid back in a large arm chair, bleeding everywhere. A bell was in his hand. Alfred and Bruce were home with Barbara and Dick, but they were leaving him to "Study". If I ring this bell, someone will come. Someone that can help me. Alfred or someone else... I can't talk... He destroyed my voice box, Tim thought painfully. Oh, God, why didn't I go? Why did I protect Bruce so? Why didn't I tell Bane where he was? Oh god, it hurts so bad... It was true. Bane was thrashing him for information on where Bruce was. Bane was obviously in a hurry. When Bane finally realized it was too late and ran off. Tim managed to crawl up into the chair where he now was.
Tim's bloody eyes searched the room, looking at all the objects that laid strewn. Broken pictures, torn clothes, shattered mirrors and trashed furniture. Even the bed was a mess. The phone that was torn apart, laid on the floor, covered in Tim's blood from where he tried to grab it. Bane had pulled him off the ground and torn the phone apart.
Tim was a mess. His pants were torn up and his tank top was laying in front of him on the floor in strands. It had been white, but now it was only a deep, dark red. His face was smeared in blood and his black hair was matted down to his head. All over he was streaked with blood-made hand prints that were left by Bane when he grabbed Tim to beat him more.
Tim paused, not breathing because of the coming thought. Who am I? Why am I here? The thought filled his head and scared him. He straightened slightly. Who's mad idea was it to place me here? To place them here? To have such suffering plague people... People who act so strong on the outside, but... Are frightened little children on the inside?
Who AM I? Red tears came down Tim's face. If I don't ring that bell, I'll die. And if I die, I'll never make it to Prom. Then again...
It's not like anyone would miss me. He heard Dick run past, laughing, followed by the firing of a paint ball gun.
"GAH! Babs!"
"I may be wheel chair bound but I'm heavily armed and HIGHLY DISGRUNTLED!!!" she screamed, laughing.
Their movements faded.
Tim tried to smile at the fact that the two were actually getting along, but it hurt him to even do that. If I ring this bell, someone will come. But not just anyone... Family. Someone that is my family will come. One of them. Oh, God, please... Help me make this decision!
Who am I?! I NEED TO KNOW! He cried red even harder now, breathing heavily. Memories that he always held dear replayed in his mind, then were lost forever within seconds. He began to feel the effects of the loss of blood. Dizziness, nausea, blurred vision... His heart racing to find more. I'm not him. But I'm not Tim Drake. So... Who am I? God, PLEASE God, I need to know... Just then, a bat flew in and landed on the high curtain bar. Seconds later a robin flew in, around Tim once, then out again, followed by the bat. This didn't phase Tim as strange at all. All he could do was nod, despite the pain. That's who I am... Thank... you... Tim raised his hand that held the bell painfully and shook it twice, just as he lost all thought and reason and everything went blank.
The bell hit the ground hard as Alfred opened the door. Alfred gasped and ran for help. That is who I am. Thank you. I can't be lost. Not now.
Tim's eyes fluttered open and he looked around, feeling three IVs in his right arm and two in his left. He had an oxygen mask on his face. No one was around the dark hospital room. No one at all. And yet, he still felt there was someone watching him. He tried to sit up, but a force in the darkness forced him down and it grazed his eyes gently to shut them. In seconds, the medicines won over the battle of him staying awake.
After a few minutes, there was a slight movement in the shadows. Three pairs of white eyes slid through the window in, one by one. The black force from before was actually a figure with no eyes. The figure walked over and kissed Tim on the forehead, then ran out the window to join the others who were ready to stand guard Tim all night.
One of the figures walked and stared in at the boy.
"Batman, you can't blame yourself," one said.
"When I adopted him, it was a silent vow that I would protect him as my own, Azrael. I failed."
Azrael sighed and shook his head.
"Fine, dude. I can't change your mind otherwise, obviously. So, any idea who did it?" he asked.
"No."
Azrael turned and walked away.
"Call me if something goes wrong. I definately want to be here," he said, jumping off.
Batman continued to stare through the window to the boy. He then turned and went towards the corner. Batgirl stopped him. He stared at her indefinate, masked face.
"I'm finding Bane," he replied to her. He went to dive off, but she grabbed him and shook her head. He gently removed her hand. "I have to. For him. For Tim. Stay here and protect him."
Batgirl stepped away sadly and watched him dive off and grapple away.
The Youngest Death