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"How unfortunate."
He turns expecting to see someone, anyone. There is a cold surrounding the room that he shouldn’t notice and still-
“Hope you weren’t thinking that you would win after sabotaging everything. That’s not how it works.“
He turns again, thinking that he sees glimpses of something. “Where are you?” He hisses annoyed.
He is alone, he knows this. He sent everyone away because he needs to plan (he needs to mourn).
“Why would you want to know?” He knows that voice. How can he forget about that annoying voice-?
“To get rid of you once and for all-“ he growls, expecting to smell him near, to hear his heartbeat to make it stop, pierce his heart the same way he did to B-
“You don’t get it, do you?“ He just hears the whisper because his hearing is better now. “You would never get rid of me now.“ The voice is right next to him, he can feel the breathing hit his neck, feel the cold cover his back. He turns, slashing whoever is behind him, but there is nothing, and still, his hands are covered in blood. “Surprising what killed your family do to your image.“
He hears a giggle, an annoying and childish giggle that he hasn’t heard in a while.
“Tim-“
He looks around like he would see the corpse of his brother him standing right there, like someone without a head could wake up.
“That’s not nice,“ this time he turns where the voice echos and he sees it.
There is someone dressed as a Robin, it’s not his uniform, or Damian’s. It’s Tim’s. There is a 12-year-old Tim Drake, with his face covered in blood, blood that is dripping from his head where he-
The kid giggles again to his face before glitching out, as an old tv would do, before appearing right in front of him. He doesn’t flinch, why he would flinch if all that is just a hallucination.
He feels thin arms wrap around his middle, making it burn with coldness, making him hiss. The giggle continues and the you would never get rid of me echos around the place, making him cover his head with his hands, having a begging at the tip of his tongue.
“-chard! Richard!” He opens his eyes, looking up and noticing Diana looking at him kind of confused.
“Diana-“
“What’s wrong-?”
“Nothing. I got lost in my thoughts,“ because neither of them sleeps, dream (or have nightmares).
“Right. We are ready to go.”
“Yeah, alright. Going.” Diana nods before walking away.
He holds his breath for some seconds -not that he needs to do that anymore- to compose himself and follow her. If he hears little steps behind him, and a little giggle he would ignore it. He needs to ignore it.
He can’t feel guilty now, even if that guilt would follow him around like a ghostly presence.