INSIGHTFUL ⇛ Tim Drake [ currently on hiatus ]

6.

(Short Chapter!)

"So you think he needs me for something?"

"Yes." Red Robin nods, keeping his position unemotional and stern.

"But why?" I sigh frustratedly. "There's nothing I can give him or do for him that would matter."

"Are you sure?" Red Robin looks to my wall. Then to my bed, study table, wardrobe and the half-opened drawers inside my closet. He's scanning the room, I know at least that. His stature remains stoic and serious, his black cowl giving his somewhat kind and helpful demeanor a touch of darkness and fear.

"Yes," I mutter. "I'm sure."

"We'll figure something out. Don't stress." He motions to my shaking hands. They're clenched over each other, my right hand gripping my left hand tightly. I nibble on my bottom lip, directing some effort towards my hands so that they can stop shaking.

"I just - I haven't done anything," I lazily fall back onto my bed, still sitting upright with my back towards him. Red Robin doesn't move, he just watches me as I do so. "He's a clown, right? Maybe this is all just one of his stupid jokes."

"Listen, Penelope. I'll sort this all out for you, I promise." Red Robin says. "Just hang tight and be patient."

"Fine," I mumble, bringing my arm over my face. I groan loudly into the fabric of my sleeves, the vibrations tickling the tan skin where my elbow folds inwards. Red Robin chuckles, which is weird. Sure he had made the same noise plenty of times before, but only now have I realized how out of character it seems. And the familiarity of the small laugh.

After about a minute, I remove my arm from my face. I turn to face Red Robin, my neck craning awkwardly. I open my mouth to speak but instead, I abruptly shut it.

He's not there.

I snicker, lazily pulling myself off of my bed. I yank the open my wardrobe, messily pulling out a pair of light jeans and a baggy t-shirt from one of the drawers inside. A small envelope slips out of one of the pockets in my jeans, landing face down onto my carpet.

I pay no heed to it. It's probably just a piece of rubbish that I had shoved into my pocket at some point. I quickly change out of my uniform and into the more comfortable clothes that I had pulled out.

My nose crinkles and I wince at a sudden gut wrenching stench that takes hold of the air in my bedroom. With my lip in between my teeth, my eyes quickly scan the room for a source. I glance over the cream colored envelope, a strong distasteful sensation flooding through my body like an overflown river. I stare at it for a while, my mind blanking out due to the horrid smell that fills my nose.

I step closer to it, bending down and picking up the forcefully shut envelope. The stench only gets stronger as I bring it closer to my eyesight. I almost gag as I rip open the seal, mildly surprised that it was unopened. The smell is almost unbearable now, causing my eyes to water and my bottom lip to involuntarily shake.

There's a folded piece of paper inside. My fingers delicately grip the edge, tugging it out in slow movements. The color of the paper is a rotten cream, the writing inside it a messy and putrid green. A small dead rose lies inside the crease of the folded paper, leaking out a sickly green liquid onto the unread message. The rose is also green, the thorns sharper than the tip of a scalpel.

My eyebrows furrow as I pull out the dead rose, my nose crinkling as I rush to throw it out of my window. I don't want it in here, I don't want it anywhere near me. I whimper as a thorn lodges itself into my palm, causing a thick, scarlet liquid to find its way out of my skin.

My heart rate noticeably increases and my palms begin to sweat. Why would anyone put that in a letter? Why would anyone give that to someone?

I place my fist over my nose and mouth in attempt to block out the smell coming from the liquid that stains the paper.  The writing is smudged, but it's still readable.

Why so  serious lately, my dear? Don't you just smile when you think of the games we played when we were together? I know I do! And my, do we miss having you around! Harley and I are just dying for you to come back!

Don't stress little girl. That batkid can't keep you away for long!

~ J

The envelope drops from my hand to the floor, a single playing card falling out in the process. A joker. I almost puke. And not only because of the smell but because of what I'd just read. Forget my pants, how the hell did the get the note into my house? And how did he know I'd pull out those exact pants?

My breathing becomes fast and my chest heaves painfully with every intake of air. What's going on? Why is he doing this?

My mind wanders to the only person whom I know can help. Red Robin had seemed to be just as curious and motivated to figure all of this out as I am.

I'll call him. Get him to come back here and hopefully have him explain what's happening. He's smart. And isn't he a detective or something like that? Most of the Bat-people are, so why wouldn't he be?

A frustrated yell leaves my lips, my throat aching as I do so. There's no damn way for me to actually contact him.

I throw the note onto my bed, picking up the card and harshly slamming it down as hard as I can beside it. The pale face of the grinning jester card stares at me tauntingly, pulling at my strings as if I were a puppet.

It's almost teasing me.