[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 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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You know who his friends are, I mean - you were pretending to be his buddy for a while.
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[He rubs at that fading scar for a moment, before glancing up to scowl at Nygma.] I'm not Robin anymore. Stop using that.
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Tim. What's wrong with Tim? But not [and he's pointing a finger for emphasis] Timbo.
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