Tim Drake
08 April 2009 @ 03:01 am
[Tim's sitting on his bed, a few feet away from his desk and computer. One leg's hanging off the bed, the other bent and propping up a text book in his lap. He's wearing a pair of checked black and green flannel pants, shirtless. A bandage runs across his chest and over one shoulder; the light is dim, but a scattering of scars may be visible on his chest. There's music playing in the background, quietly. After moment, Tim starts mumbling along with the song.]

I reached the wrong ends by the wrong means
It puts the wrong plan
In the wrong hands
With the wrong theory for the wrong man
The wrong lies, on the wrong vibes
The wrong questions with the wrong replies...

[He trails off, setting aside the book to wander to his window, standing next to his bedside table. There he picks up a picture frame, holding it in both hands and staring before looking out the window again.]

Made the wrong move, every wrong night
With the wrong tune played till it sounded right...
Current Music: Wrong - Depeche Mode
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