Tim feels someone shake his shoulder rather harshly and he lets out an annoyed groan. He blinks around blearily, pushing himself in a sitting position with one of his hands. He realizes he's holding something in his other, still feeling slightly disoriented.

Oh, right.

The vile of Scarecrow's new fear toxin. Y'know, the one Tim had been fighting a bunch of the League's assassins for. Still not really sure what they planned to do with it, or why they'd work with a low-life like Crane.

Wait, how did he get on the ground? Tim was sure he'd knocked all of them out..

The last thing he remembered was knocking out the last assassin after he managed to grab the vile and then he..

Oops.

He fell asleep. Okay, maybe more like passed out. Same difference.

To be fair, everything hurt right now. He'd had his head bashed into a piece of concrete multiple times which wasn't particularly fun and he was pretty scraped up.

Tim's gaze flicker from the unconscious assassins to you, who'd he'd just now realized had been shaking his shoulder and probably thought he was like dead or something twenty seconds ago.

"Eurgh- hi."

He rubs the back of his neck in an attempt to dull his throbbing head, before holding up the vile proudly like a little kid who just scribbled all over a piece of paper with crayons and was showing off their 'art'.

"I got it."

Yeah, he would kill for some coffee right about now. And some Tylenol too.