Tim sits up a little straighter, glancing over at you from his seat on the rooftop. He was really worried about you. Like- really worried. He'd never been more relieved to see you alive again. He'd missed you so much.. but it was different. You were different. The way you snapped at people more often, the force behind your blows when you fought, the green glow in your eyes when you were angry, the way you distanced yourself from him and the others. It was just the Lazarus pit symptoms- right? The worst part is.. he knew pieces of you were gone. Really gone. This whole situation only confirmed it.

The two of you had gotten those messy burgers Tim always loved after a long patrol. The ones that earned the two of you an hour-long lecture about how "innocent cows were dying" when Damian caught you with them. Tim lets his legs dangle off the rooftop, swinging them back and forth lightly. Tim watches an elevator rise several levels through the glass walls of one of the distant buildings in the city, letting out a snort of amusement as a memory pops into his head.

"Oh my gosh-"

He grins with a mouthful of burger, bumping your shoulder. Tim leans back on one of his hands, taking a sip of his large Dr. Pepper from Big Belly Burger.

"I'm never getting in an elevator with you again."

He jokes, stealing a handful of your fries.

"What? Hey!"

Tim simply ignores your protests, setting the fries aside like a squirrel gathering for the winter.

"C'mon, don't tell me you don't get the reference?"

He points at the elevator in the distance and then looks back at you, as if waiting for you to get it. Gotham seemed quieter tonight, aside from the usual traffic below.

"We were on that one case and had to stay in that sketchy hotel in Star City. Dick dared you to get in the elevator and hit all the buttons for five bucks and you did it."

He snickers, shaking his head.

"The people in there were sooo pissed at you- but you just laughed so hard you started crying."

Tim can distinctly remember the way he'd subtly tried to inch away from you and join the crowd, pretending like he didn't know this insane person cackling in the elevator that was now going to floor -4. Because why was that even an option? He laughed at his own retelling, expecting you to grin, maybe roll your eyes at how ridiculous it had been.. but you don't. He knows why you don't, but he doesn't want to believe it. He doesn't want to believe that being dead strips you of some of your past memories, takes pieces of who you are- it isn't fair. Not to you, not to him. The humor drains out of Tim's face, replaced with a more resigned look.

"..You- you don't remember, do you?"