Savior | T. Drake ✔

[23]

Damian was pacing back and forth in the corridor and hadn't even slept a wink the entire night. Every now and then he would stand by the glass door that separated him and Tim, looking inside to make sure that he was still alive. Every now and then, he would check that the line was still moving on his heart rate monitor.

Even though he hadn't been allowed to go inside when Tim was in a critical condition, he spent the entire night right outside the door, present and alert, forcing the doctors to keep him informed about his health each time they stepped out through that door.

After his surgery, Tim had been comparatively better but with the heavy dosage of anesthesia, he was still in a deep sleep. By that morning, the doctors had allowed him and Richard to go in his room and stay close to him. So pushing the glass door a little, he stepped inside.

Damian had just returned from the cafeteria and was holding a cup of coffee which he placed carefully at the table close to Tim's bed. "I brought you some coffee, Drake," he mumbled, "now wake up, you asshole, or else the coffee will get cold."

But even though the words were what Damian was expected to say to Tim, his voice wasn't the same anymore. Instead of the harsh tone Tim was accustomed to hearing from her, Dami was at the moment speaking in low hushed tones as if not wanting to disturb him but also wanting to talk to him.

Even though he never showed it, deep inside he cared deeply for Tim. They were brothers after all, though not by blood but still true Waynes at heart.

Tim's heart rate was normal as he could see displayed clearly on the monitor and if not for the bandages and wires that were connected to him, one would assume that he was comfortably asleep.

"Look, this is why you shouldn't go sleep deprived for so long," he resumed even though he knew no one was listening to him but deep down he wished that somehow Tim could hear him at that moment, "because when you do fall asleep, you look absolutely ridiculous. Such a shame."

The coffee had gone cold by then but Damian made no attempt to remove the cup somehow hoping that the scent would revive him.

"And here I thought you could smell coffee from miles away. You really have lost your touch, Drake, if you can't sense that a coffee cup is placed right beside you."

With each word, his voice was becoming heavier with frustration. He wanted him to wake up so that he could tell him how much he hated him for making him go through all those stupid emotions that he chose not to feel. He wanted him to wake up so that he could tell him how stupid he had been and inform him that he had once again proven that he was the dumbest brother despite being known as the genius of their family.

But more so, he wanted him to wake up so that he could see those blue eyes again and finally be assured that Tim was going to be alright.

"I paid for this shit. Now wake up or else I will pour it down your throat myself."

Damian pushed his hands through his hair, keeping them back as he looked at Tim, tongue clicking in impatience. He wasn't used to seeing Tim like that and the sight was slowly driving him off the edge.

"You know what, Drake, just fucking quit this act," he hissed, keeping his voice down because he didn't want to alert anyone, "I know very well that you can hear me and you're just pretending to be asleep. Oh yes, I know you very well unfortunately. And you're having a good laugh right now, aren't you, seeing me like this? You fucking douchebag..."

He was standing by the bed as his fist clenched and unclenched every now and then, eyes fluctuating from Tim's sleeping figure to the heart rate monitor.

"What the fuck are you waiting for? Just wake up already! I've had enough..."

There was no change in the line that zigzagged on the screen as Damian glanced at it again, hoping for any sign that could indicate a positive change in Tim.