Tim slid the pick in and to fish out the bullet and was very careful while doing so. He had gentle hands when it came to these kinds of things. “There we go.” He placed it on the table, then began to clean and disinfect the wound. “This will sting a bit.” Spraying it, it started to —

“Lets get it out.” Tim rolled over the cold steel operating table. “I’m no Alfred but I promise, I can stitch pretty okay.” He reached over to the rack and grabbed a few things. Thread, needle, spray. “Ready?”

“I still call for him sometimes, too.” Tim placed his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Lets get you fixed up, Bruce. What was it this time?”

"Look up. It's- 𝙎𝙐𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙉!"

Do you know how little that narrows it down?

“Even with that fall?” He huffed. “What brings you to Gotham?”

Trips. “Kon!” He stood up and dusted himself off. “Dude, I didn’t even know you were there. What the Hell?”

What app?

Hopping across rooftops.

ㅤㅤ

You frighten me sometimes.

Kon.

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ --- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Signal, Duke Thomas

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