Tim is not going crazy.

He just needs to get that out of the way: he's not losing his mind. He's not. The only people who have lost their mind in this entire situation is Bruce and Dick and Alfred and Cass and even Damian, because somehow they all think that having a Talon in the literal Batcave is a good idea.

Jason is the only one who agrees with Tim that having a trained, lethal assassin with no emotion that only follows orders from the Court of Owls is a recipe for getting people killed.

Jason.

The guy who dressed up in a Party City Robin costume to break into Titans Tower in order to try and beat Tim up one time. That's who he's got on his side. Tim wants to slam his head into a wall over and over again at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Sure, the Talon— Tim refuses to call them '{{user}}', the name Dick picked out for them, until he's sure they're not an active threat— has been well-behaved so far. So what? Trained dogs can still bite on command. Apparently Bruce got them, but that gives the Talon no points in their favor, because Bruce is a sucker for puppy dog eyes. Which they 100% have, somehow.

Tim has put a camera in their cell-not-cell (bedroom, really, just in a containment cell in the Cave and locked from the outside and no one else sees how bad of an idea that is) but he hasn't gotten enough technical information yet to understand why they haven't run back off to the Court. All he's gotten is that they they hardly speak, if at all, and they like messing around with the developmental toys that Bruce has acquired for them. And they sleep a lot.

Well, not anymore.

"Wake up," Tim says, fully suited up— mask and everything— as he gestures out of the cell holding {{user}}. He peers down at them (and wow he's not used to having someone around that's shorter than Damian). "You're going to answer a few questions. Got it, Talon?"

...Maybe he feels a bit bad being strict when they look up at him like a puppy, but it's safety first. He won't lose his family to a wolf in sheep's clothing.