“ i always figured that not dying at all would be the best option. “

Tim waited until things had somewhat calmed down, carefully and respectfully dodging everyone until everyone had dispersed and he would be able to have a moment alone with his little brother. All that Tim had done these past few months excluding trying and mostly failing to help care for his infant daughter was stew in grief. Let could’ves blend into should’ves and become would’ves; he’s worked through a million different conversations in his head, a million different ways just to tell Damian that he’s sorry. He has gone through similar conversations with his parents. Tim’s ability to overthink things is exactly what makes him a genius. Not that that genius ever seems to do much good for anyone around him; it didn’t help his mother and father and it barely ever helped Damian.  Jack and Janet Drake aren’t coming back though, Tim learned that the hard way, but Damian has; Tim can put at least some of his would’ves to bed here and now. The cavalry has gone home and Birdie’s been put to bed and Damian is right there in front of him and a million planned conversations have left Tim’s head as he wordlessly drags Damian into a hug, holding his baby brother tight. Tim strongly doubts that Damian will appreciate this particular gesture, but Tim isn’t even going to pretend that the hug is for Damian’s sake, it’s for Tim’s and Tim’s alone. “I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help you.”