「⸝Blending worry⸝」

                                    

                                          
── ⟢・⸝⸝
"Hey..." Tim's voice was soft as he looked up at Fright sitting on the water tower. Fright turned her head slightly, the evening sun casting a warm glow around her silhouette. 
"Hey," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, a hint of surprise in her tone. 
"What are you doing up here?"
Tim took a few steps closer, the wooden planks creaking beneath his feet. 
"I wanted to see you. I thought maybe... you'd want some company." He glanced out at the horizon, where the sky was streaked with pink and orange. He climbed up to her and sat down next to her. Fright leaned her head on his shoulder. 
"I opened the U.S.B." He said. 
"That was quick," She said. 
"I had nothing on my plate," Fright lifted her head slightly, looking at him Tim noted how tired she looked. 
"And? What did you find?" Her voice was horse and he could see her eyes were slightly bloodshot like she had been crying. 
"I found your file," The two were silently looking at each other for a bit. Not saying a word. 
"I made sure no one else would see your face attached to it," 
"You did?" Tim nodded, his expression serious. 
"I didn't want anyone to know, especially after everything you've been through." Fright swallowed hard, a mix of relief and anxiety washing over her. 
"What... what did it say?"
"Everything they did to you," Her eyes searched his, a flicker of gratitude mixed with worry. 
"You didn't need to. What if you get in trouble,"
"I can handle it," he said, trying to reassure her. Fright sighed, leaning back against the wooden planks of the tower. 
"You're too good to me, ୭໒২७. I don't know how to repay you for this."
"Just be yourself," he replied softly. "That's all I need."
Silence settled around them again, the streets below them a hum. Fright glanced out at the fading light, her heart heavy but comforted by his presence. 
"So, what's next?" she asked, breaking the stillness.
"It's in the Justice League's hands now. They are not letting them get away with this one," 
The two fell into a comfortable silence. Tim decided not to ask her why her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying. He could see the faint traces of sorrow etched on her face, the way her lips pressed together just a bit too tightly, but he sensed that this was not the moment for probing questions. Instead, he let the stillness envelop them, hoping she would share when she was ready.
Outside, the world continued to bustle—a distant horn honked, and hum of traffic. He took a deep breath, grounding himself in the present. The air smelled faintly of rain, a reminder of the storm that had passed through earlier, leaving everything refreshed yet heavy.
He felt his hand being grabbed. He looked down and watched the way her fingers absently traced a circle on his palm. He wished he could understand what was going on inside her head, the thoughts swirling behind those weary eyes. But she was a mystery to him. 
An expulsion made the two sit up quickly, their silence abruptly interrupted by the loud bang that echoed through the wind. Tim's heart raced as he turned toward the source of the noise, the calm atmosphere suddenly charged with tension. He knew Gotham well enough to know that it was a bank in Damian's patrol area.