[ He gently claps her shoulder, as if the gesture will suffice to alleviate the mood-- to calm all the tension brought about by Tim's close brush with death. The reality of his profession, with all of its potential consequences, is something he confronts every day. In that way, the prospect of injury and death gets kind of trivial. But looking at the way Ann regards him with such worry, such concern, makes him realize the stakes are just as real to her. And no amount of brushing this off can change that. ]
Figured I could rely on you, which is why I'm-- augh!
[ Yeah, he seizes up once there's pressure on the wound. The subsequent pain, a throbbing sting, compels him to pull back right when Ann does. ]
...Why I'm here.
[ Ann's expression, the way she pleads for him to just stop. No amount of theatrics can conceal him from the sobering reality of her words. He can't, like Bruce, just brush off someone he cares about and pursue the mission at his expense and others'. That level of dedication, of obsession, just isn't who Tim is anymore. He remembers that dark place, that sunken state that Ann herself lifted him out of. To find himself here, insisting on his investigation when doing so might only lead to his undoing... makes him shake his head.
In disapproval of himself. In rejection of the way he really thought this night was going to play out. Clearing his palace brought him clarity, but old habits die hard. ]
Ann.
You're right.
[ His posture slackens, in both surrender and relief. Relief brought on by the recognition of truth. ]
Last thing I want to be is the kind of person who shoulders everything alone. That's why I have friends.
I guess I still insist on flying solo sometimes because losing the people I care about still strings, more than any physical wound.
To the point I'd sooner lose myself.
[ Now, and perhaps forever more, he's gonna have a hard time forgetting Ann's expression. The desperation in her eyes, the care she expresses for his life. Fear for how far he's willing to go, how low he's willing to plummet short of dying-- all while risking death anyway. ]
I'll get others on the case. Brief them on all the details.
And I promise that's the last thing I'll do.
[ The whole time, he keeps a hand on his stomach to apply pressure to the wound. Despite the temporary setback from Ann pushing against it, the bleeding does eventually stop. When that happens, Tim replaces the bloodied gauze with a fresh one, planting it on the same spot. ]
Got the bandages? Just need to wrap up my stomach, then I should probably lie down. I kinda ache everywhere.
no subject
Right here.
[ He gently claps her shoulder, as if the gesture will suffice to alleviate the mood-- to calm all the tension brought about by Tim's close brush with death. The reality of his profession, with all of its potential consequences, is something he confronts every day. In that way, the prospect of injury and death gets kind of trivial. But looking at the way Ann regards him with such worry, such concern, makes him realize the stakes are just as real to her. And no amount of brushing this off can change that. ]
Figured I could rely on you, which is why I'm-- augh!
[ Yeah, he seizes up once there's pressure on the wound. The subsequent pain, a throbbing sting, compels him to pull back right when Ann does. ]
...Why I'm here.
[ Ann's expression, the way she pleads for him to just stop. No amount of theatrics can conceal him from the sobering reality of her words. He can't, like Bruce, just brush off someone he cares about and pursue the mission at his expense and others'. That level of dedication, of obsession, just isn't who Tim is anymore. He remembers that dark place, that sunken state that Ann herself lifted him out of. To find himself here, insisting on his investigation when doing so might only lead to his undoing... makes him shake his head.
In disapproval of himself. In rejection of the way he really thought this night was going to play out. Clearing his palace brought him clarity, but old habits die hard. ]
Ann.
You're right.
[ His posture slackens, in both surrender and relief. Relief brought on by the recognition of truth. ]
Last thing I want to be is the kind of person who shoulders everything alone. That's why I have friends.
I guess I still insist on flying solo sometimes because losing the people I care about still strings, more than any physical wound.
To the point I'd sooner lose myself.
[ Now, and perhaps forever more, he's gonna have a hard time forgetting Ann's expression. The desperation in her eyes, the care she expresses for his life. Fear for how far he's willing to go, how low he's willing to plummet short of dying-- all while risking death anyway. ]
I'll get others on the case. Brief them on all the details.
And I promise that's the last thing I'll do.
[ The whole time, he keeps a hand on his stomach to apply pressure to the wound. Despite the temporary setback from Ann pushing against it, the bleeding does eventually stop. When that happens, Tim replaces the bloodied gauze with a fresh one, planting it on the same spot. ]
Got the bandages? Just need to wrap up my stomach, then I should probably lie down. I kinda ache everywhere.