[Tim has had quite a few painkillers. Later, he'll miss having his injuries treated in a cave, where he can't make a stoned fool of himself. He's still in the infirmary, so spam is totally a possibility here.] God, my cheek is killing me. [Probably because you keep touching it, Tim. He's gingerly rubbing that fractured cheekbone.]So those, uh.
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You've never been to the jungle have you?
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No. Yes. ...Maybe.
Why? [SQUINTING AT YOU SLADE. Suspicion, it's so very present.]
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Also, Slade thinks this is hilarious.]
Yes or no, kid.
If you can remember that much.
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You didn't say why.
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[And he's going to prod his cheek again.] Yep. Ow. I feel mostly great.
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Is there anything I can do for you, Tim? Anything ya need?
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No. Yes. Can I do push ups, or will you yell at me?
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Hi. Everything's back to normal, yeah. You seem like you're feeling better.
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Morphine's great. I think it's morphine.
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You didn't tell anyone else?
Adventure. Yep. Biiiiig adventure. Europe was overrated, though. Gotham's better. Madrid has nothing on Gotham.
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It's not him. He wouldn't do that. I think it-- [He really wants to get this off his chest to someone who isn't Nygma. Crap.]
Madrid's like Spain's Gotham. Avoid the Manos del Fuego guy.
[And he's rubbing his jaw again, silently pondering. Not that his ponderings are linear at the moment.]
Ra's doesn't like people messing with his friends.
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Does he look different to you?
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What was Gotham like when you came?
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