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"I can feel you staring."
Martie averts her eyes at the words, embarrassed. She turns her focus to the rag she's holding under the running tap, squeezing it a few times before she moves to turn the tap off. She watches the water slither down the drain as she gives the cloth a few shakes.
"Sorry," she murmurs shamefully, cheeks flushed under her makeup, "it's just. . ."
She doesn't bother finishing the sentence; she doesn't know how. What is she supposed to say to someone in this scenario? "I'm sorry your formerly dead pseudo-brother somehow came back to life and decided to beat the ever-loving shit out of you" sounds callous at best. "I feel guilty that I wasn't here to protect you" is just flat-out condescending. "I know how much siblings trying to kill you sucks" makes it seem like she's trying to make it about her. And telling him that he looks like shit is. . .it's not the right time for jokes.
"Just?" He prompts.
". . .I'm just worried. About you."
He snorts, prodding at some of the bandages. "Thanks, Martie, but I'm fine."
She shoots him a disbelieving look.
"What? I am! This is nothing compared to some of the other beatings I've taken."
"Gee, Tim," she said sarcastically as she made her way over to him, "that makes me feel so much better."
"Good," he responds, wincing when she pressed the damp cloth against the side of his face. "Glad I was able to make you feel better."
She can't stop the smile that spreads across her face. "You're such an asshole, you know that?"
He huffs out a laugh. "Y'know that they say about knowing one."
She laughs. It's not even that comical of a thing to comment yet she still laughs so hard that her ribs ache and her knees go weak. It feels easy, this banter; they haven't joked around like this since she can't even remember when. Gods, when was the last time the two of them had just talked to one another? Outside of the Tower, outside of the Titans, outside of missions — when had they last talked as Martie and Timster, instead of Memoria and Robin? When had things become so. . .so. . .tense between them? And why in fuck's name had she let them?
She knows why. She knows why and she curses herself for it. With everything that's happened, she hasn't been putting as much effort towards their friendship as she should have been. She knows that it isn't an excuse and that it's shitty of her — it shouldn't haven taken him being brutalised by the former Robin for her to get her head out of her ass — but it is what it is.
She knows that things are about to get so much more complicated, but once things are dealt with, she's determined to focus her energy to repairing their fracturing friendship. Before it's too late.