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Damian Wayne sits atop a building, watching the city bustle below him. Headlights from cars shine through the fog that settled once the rain finally stopped after three consecutive days of it falling in sheets. It has been four years since Richard Grayson had died, and Timothy Jackson Drake disappeared into thin air. It was a lead on Tim that they were checking out. Dick was still struggling to get used to being Batman, but working with him as Robin felt natural for Damian. Then all of the sudden, they were pinned down by Joker’s men. They had new guns, and Dick got hit before Damian could do anything. He managed to take them down, but by then it was too late.
Dick died before they ever reached the hospital, and they didn’t find Tim either. The lead fizzled out into nothing. Barbara left town first, unable to handle being around without Dick. Jason went next, his pit episodes becoming too much due to everything going on, he went to stay with Roy in Star. Damian didn’t blame either of them, not at this point. Alfred took off for Europe again, Damian’s not even sure where exactly he went. Cass has been working anywhere but Gotham, and Stephanie never stopped looking for Tim. It’s not as though they’re never around, it’s more like he’s alone at least ninety-five percent of the time.
He coordinates with Gordon, handles all crime and breakouts alone, and struggles to hold the weight of the entire city on his back. He hasn’t spoken to Jon in months, despite the latter attempting to call for a couple months before deciding to give Damian space. He looks down, his eyes unfocusing from how far he’s straining his eyes. The only thing keeping him from letting his weight pull him right off the roof into ongoing traffic is knowing that the city would be vulnerable if he did. He’s all that’s left, and if he gave up now, well… there would be no Gotham for his siblings to come back to. And he knows there has to be somewhere for them to come back to, because if there isn’t, they’d never come back. Even though some part of him knows they’re not going to either way.
Tim is gone, that much he knows. Jason is sick, and won’t want to risk it again. He’s probably happier with Roy anyway. Damian gets pictures of him with Lian and Roy sometimes, not that he bothers to respond. That might make him an asshole, but he can’t seem to bring his shaking hands to actually type anything. He stares at the picture like the secrets will be unfolded for him, but nothing happens. Eventually he puts it all away, and goes back to his day to day life. He hired someone to clean the manor, but eventually canceled the service.
He let most of the manor get into disarray, only cleaning the living room, kitchen, office, and his sibling’s rooms. He keeps a tiny corner of the library clean and usable, it used to be his sanctuary. Now he doesn’t have time to use it, but he keeps cleaning it. After sitting there for much longer than he should, wasting time he doesn’t have, he finally stands. The wind blows, ruffling Damian’s hair. He feels it, letting himself enjoy feeling like he’s freefalling for just a second before stepping back from the edge. Then he’s swinging towards the GCPD, almost an hour late for his meeting with Gordon.
“I was starting to wonder if you were going to come,” Gordon says, his arms folded. “I’ve had the stupid thing lit for an hour and a half.”
Damian glances at the Batsignal, a hum rumbling out of his chest. It’s deeper than his voice, something he’s sure he subconsciously started doing after Dick died.
“I was held up.”
“What if it had been something important? This has been happening more and more. I know this is hard, but we have to protect this city.”
We?
“I know, I was stopping crimes downtown,” Damian lies, trying anything to get Gordon to stop talking.
“I guess that’s fine, but pick up the pace next time. An hour and a half is insane. You gotta take this seriously. Your old man could do it alone when he first started.”
Damian can feel his breath hitch in his chest.
He didn’t have so much to deal with. There were no depressed siblings, there were half as many rogues, and he wasn’t taking care of a whole company and house by himself.
None of those words come out of his mouth, instead he just says, “Hm. What did you need?”
“That serial killer you’ve been chasing, he struck again. We found a new victim earlier this afternoon.”
“Where’s the scene?”
Gordon offers him the address. “I’ve kept the crime scene team from tampering with anything, but they’re on standby for when you give them the go ahead.”
Damian nods, and jumps off of the roof without waiting to see if Gordon has anything else to say. He waits until the last second to fire his grappling hook, reveling in the rush of wind and blood pumping through his veins with renewed vigor. The scene is just as gory as every other one he’s been to, blood covering the whole floor. An eyeball sits in the corner, and the man is pinned to the wall with nails. His jaw hangs, dislocated, and pulled down almost to his chest. It’s barely hanging on by stretched skin. All of his fingernails are gone, chunks of hair missing from his head too. Damian looks the whole scene over, trying to find any evidence that will lead him to the killer.
Though some part of him knows that if he’d been trying harder, he would have found them already. That coupled with Gordon’s words bouncing around his head. He feels sick knowing that if he was giving his all to this city like Bruce did, these people would be alive.
You’re not trying hard enough. You’re not trying hard enough. You have to do more.
Finally, he takes pictures of the scene, and signals the forensics team. Then he heads back to the Batcave, dropping into the squeaky chair in front of the computer. He twists, making it squeak louder. Tim said that he would fix it when he got home the night that he disappeared, and Damian has refused to fix it.
“Either he’ll come home and fix it, or I’ll finally kill myself when it breaks” is what he said to himself after having to leave Dick’s funeral early to stop Two Face.
It’s been years and that chair had stubbornly held up. Though Damian somewhat knew that would happen, Tim had gotten the sturdiest chair he could find since he was notorious for claiming he was going to fix something, then putting it off for at least two months. Ringing pulls him from his mind, and he immediately begins cursing himself.
Here you are drifting off into your own fucked up thoughts when people are out there dying. You’re so useless.
He picks it up, glancing at the caller ID as he punches his code into the computer. Jason’s name is in bold letters across his screen. Damian pauses, but ends up answering right before it goes to voicemail.
“Todd.”
“Hey, little D.” Jason sounds tense, tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping, and knowing him, probably not eating properly either.
Not that Damian is going to be the one to scold him since he doesn’t even remember the last time he ate. That revelation causes a twinge in his stomach, making him remember the times that he would tell his siblings that they were likely going to die from passing out in the field due to low blood sugar. He said it to all of them at least fourteen times.
“It’s been a while. I know you’ve been busy, but you could have called if you couldn’t visit.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll keep up better from here on out,” Damian replies stiffly.
“No, Damian, that’s not what I meant. I’m worried about you. I know you’re not ignoring me. That means you’re not doing too great, or you’re overworking. Neither one of those is good. You should come see me. I don’t want to come back, but I will if I have to. I need to see you, make sure you’re ok. You know I’m here for you, right?”
You’re not here. You probably won’t ever be here again. You can’t even fix yourself, you certainly can’t fix me.
“Yes, I’m aware. If it means you won’t push yourself, I’ll come to Star. What are you thinking?”
“Come have dinner with me and Roy. We have family dinners every Friday. Just come to the next one.”
“I’ll be there… how are you doing? You sound tired?”
“Yeah, I’ve been up late trying to figure out what I was going to say. I’m worried about you, but I’m doing well. Much better now. Got a job, and I feel like I’m finally moving on.”
He sounds nervous. Maybe he thinks I’m going to be angry. I’m not. I’m happy that he’s ok, that he didn’t leave for nothing. I would never have asked him to sacrifice his mental health for me. I’m not worth that. This whole city isn’t worth that. I’m not even worth worrying about now. He should just move on, I’m a lost cause anyway.
“That’s good. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Damian. Look, how-”
“I’m sorry, Todd. I really am, but I have things I was working on. I’ll see you on Friday, but before that, I have to find this serial killer.”
It’s quiet for just long enough that Damian wonders if the call disconnected. Then Jason says, “Yeah, no worries. I forgot how hectic it gets there. I mean, it’s not like this place is the Emerald City or anything, but I guess it hasn’t been my problem in a long time. Sorry for blabbering like that. I’ll see you on Friday, Dames.”
“See you then.”
Damian hangs up, tossing his phone onto the desktop in front of him. He spends the night taking a fine tooth comb to all of his evidence and pictures of the scenes, seven victims in total. It’s brutal with his already limited sleep, but he manages to find a lead at one a.m., and arrests the guy at four. Finally, after all the paperwork is done, and he’s gotten a shower, he crawls into bed at six. Sleep comes easily, though it’s plagued by the sight of Dick’s dead eyes, and Tim’s smiling face when he said he would be back in two hours. His alarm goes off at seven-thirty on the dot. Damian flicks his hand out, turning it off. His eyes burn, and his muscles feel like they’re on fire, but he pushes himself out of bed anyway.
There’s too much to do at the company now that Lucius Fox is getting older. He’s been doing half days for a couple of months now, and Damian has yet to find a suitable replacement. However, it’s not more paperwork, or a memo for another meeting that greets him when he gets into the office. It’s Stephanie, dressed in an oversized purple sweater and black jeans with holes in the knees. Her hair is short, much shorter than he’s ever seen her wear it before, and her eyes look sad when they lock onto his. She pushes off of where she was leaning against his desk.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Nothing. I’m surprised you’re back so soon. You left what, two weeks ago with that new lead?” Damian replies, crossing his arms loosely at his chest.
“It turned into nothing. I heard you caught that serial killer you told me about when we called last week.”
Damian frowns. He doesn’t remember calling her last week, much less telling her about his current case. “Yes, it didn’t end up being as hard as I thought it would be. How long are you going to be in town?”
“I don’t know. Not too long though. I think I might have another lead already. I figured I could take over here for a couple days, give you a chance to catch your breath. Then I could take a day off, head back out after that.”
“Can you stay till Friday? You can take your day off whenever before then, but Todd asked me to come over to his place for dinner that night.”
“Of course, whatever you need.”
“And I don’t need a break, I need someone to help me put the extra work in, and get through my backlog of cases, and paperwork. I’ve been making sure the cases haven’t gotten too backed up, so the files are a mess, and the computer doesn’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”
“Of course. I can start with whatever you need me to. Equal partnership for a few days sounds great. We can take turns filing and writing up reports from notes while the other patrols. Then whoever is filing can be on comms too. Just in case.”
“That’s fine.”
“Anyway, I brought you breakfast. Figured I’d come check in before I crashed. Jet lag’s a bitch. I’ll see you tonight.”
Damian nods, and walks to his desk. There’s a chocolate strawberry muffin on his desk, one of his favorites.
When was the last time I had one of these?
He eats it slowly, and while it doesn’t change anything, his stomach does feel more full when he’s done. It’s small, and some would say insignificant, but Damian feels something good for the first time in months. Maybe it was the coffee and breakfast after a long night, or maybe it was someone caring enough to not only pick something up for him, but remembering what he likes. The rest of the day feels easier, and he realizes when he’s packing up to go home that he’s not dreading patrol tonight. He can send Stephanie out, and she can deal with Gordon, and he can file all night without having to talk to anyone but her. And she’s stayed blessingly the same over the years. She jokes, and stays hopeful and persistent. Damian can still hear the love in her voice when she speaks to him.
It’s like talking to a long lost friend, and not someone they fell out of caring about years ago, but hang on to out of obligation like everyone else. And she doesn’t wait on Damian. It’s not his responsibility for them to have a relationship. It’s both of them, and more often than him, it’s her coming to see him, getting him things, showing she cares. It’s almost as though she sees why he hasn’t been doing that with anyone, why he hasn’t forced relationships like he used to. Stephanie’s luggage is in the living room when he arrives home, meaning she’s in her room. Damian had remodeled one of the guests rooms, telling her that she should stay with him when she’s in town rather than pay a fortune for a hotel. Well, a fortune for someone without a steady job, and she’s not in town enough to warrant an apartment.
Damian ignores her bags, knowing she’ll come get them when she wakes up, heading straight to the kitchen to make something for dinner for the two of them. It’s something he hasn’t done in weeks, not since she was last here. Dinner seemed oddly unnecessary when he’s alone and working. However, Stephanie doesn’t come down until eight-thirty. She’s yawning, rubbing her eyes as she walks. Damian glances up from where he’s seated on the couch.
“I made dinner. It’s in there. Feel free to help yourself. I have to get ready for patrol.”
There goes my plans. I have to be out there in half an hour or Gordon’s head is going to explode.
“It doesn’t look like you ate any of this, did you?”
“I did,” Damian calls back.
He didn’t, but Stephanie seems to take it at face value. Damian gets dressed, his eyes going to Bruce’s Batman suit in the corner. Damian had tried to keep everything as close as possible when he made his own, but he’s built just like his mother. All lean muscle and soft features. He’s thin and agile no matter how much he works out. So eventually he ended up taking all of the effects off of the suit once people realized it was a different person anyway. Batman had never been quite that unhinged, even when Jason had died, and Damian had been pretending for too long. Chasing the ghost of someone who’s been gone for years, a legacy that he’s never been worthy of.
His boots clang on the floor as he makes his way out of the cave. Gordon isn’t on the rooftop when he reaches it, even though he’s only two minutes early. He ends up waiting fifteen minutes before Gordon appears. Stephanie’s voice crackles to life in his ear right before the door swings open.
“Alright, I’m here. Checking out these files. Wow, you’ve been busy. Are the cops doing anything?”
Damian doesn’t answer, watching Gordon approach him.
“I’m surprised to see you already here.”
Damian’s jaw tightens, his chest compressing.
“I was caught up in a meeting. I’m sure you understand. I have a new case for you.”
Damian nods, still unable to unlock his jaw even to speak.
“I’m sure you want to get going, so I’ll just give you the file.” Gordon holds a thin manila folder out, and Damian takes it without a word.
He goes a few rooftops away to read it, refusing to look at Gordon any longer than he has to.
“Did he really just talk to you like that?” Stephanie asks with disgust in her voice.
He sighs, closing his eyes. “Yes, he has a lot going on, and I’m not doing my job very well. I’ve been late every day this week.”
“But you’ve been doing all of this. I’d think that’s a good reason to have him wait since all he’s doing is sitting on his ass and talking to a camera a few times anyway.”
“I don’t know, Spoiler. He’s stressed, and what he says doesn’t matter to me anyway.”
I already know I’m not good enough, I don’t need him to tell me.
“You need to value yourself, Dami.”
“Code names.”
Stephanie sighs. “You’re right, Batman. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to put any more pressure on you. I’m only saying… he shouldn’t be speaking to you like that. It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re trying. Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?”
“If you do that, Red will never come back. I don’t need your help, I need you to find and save him.”
A small whine comes through the comm, then Stephanie takes a deep breath. “I understand your thought process. I don’t want to give up on him either, but maybe this wouldn’t be giving up. This could be a break.”
“Your break could lead to us being too late,” Damian says as though they’re not already too late.
It doesn’t matter where he is, they’re too late. He refuses to acknowledge that. If Stephanie stays, that means the last person has given up on Damian’s older brother, and he refuses to let that happen. He doesn’t even believe that Tim is alive, but he still can’t stand the thought of giving up. The rest of the night is quiet with Damian working the newest case, and Stephanie working on filing all of Damian’s past cases. Damian finds his eyes getting heavy as his normal patrol time comes to an end. Normally he wouldn’t be quite so tired, but his muscles hurt and his eyes sting. Everything hurts, and his stomach clenches.
“Jeez, it’s so late,” Stephanie says, her voice rough from not speaking for hours. “Shouldn’t you be getting back here?”
“Yes, I should. You can finish that whenever. I’m going radio silent, but I’ll be back soon.”
“Ok, be safe.”
Damian flips his comm off. The quiet of the night is broken only by the cars nearby. He begins his walk home, not grappling or running. He ends up being stopped by at least three crimes he stumbles into, but he finally gets back to the cave two hours after he took his comm out. Stephanie is sitting at the computer wearing jeans, a tank top, and a knitted crop top. She looks cozy with her coffee, leaning against the desk.
“Hey, you should get some rest,” Stephanie says, thankfully not commenting on his late entrance.
Damian nods. “I’m going to get some rest. I know you just slept, but do not stay up all night.”
“I won’t, love you, buddy.”
Damian’s heart clenches, and his face burns. He doesn’t respond, racing to get out of his suit and put all of his gear and materials away. It isn’t until he’s locked in his room that the numbness begins to creep back.
She doesn’t love you. She just says that because Timothy loved you. She wants to do something for him by putting up with his stupid, useless little brother.
Damian shakes his head.
It really doesn’t matter either way. She cares about Timothy, and she’s going to keep looking for him even if it kills her. I should have told her to stop, to move on. To go somewhere else, and get away from everything: this hellhole, the memories, and everything she lost. Just like Jason did. I shouldn’t doom her to continue this life by feeding our shared delusion of Timothy being alive.
Damian sighs, dropping into bed. His room feels empty, drafty from the uninsulated window. It got leaky during the last major storm, but Damian has yet to fix it. None of his weapon collections, or art supplies litter the room. There are no more animals running around, jumping on him. It’s empty, and… quiet. This house didn’t used to be quiet. Even if his animals weren’t there, he could always hear someone.
Damian closes his eyes. Sleep comes quickly due to his exhaustion, but the nightmares still haunt him. It’s five-thirty when he walks down the stairs, a mere three and a half hours after he crashed into bed. He has early morning meetings today, and he has to be presentable. Stephanie is cooking in the kitchen, pancakes on the griddle, coffee in the coffee pot. It smells amazing.
“Hey, I’m surprised you’re up so early.”
“I have meetings. You didn’t have to make breakfast. Did you even sleep at all?”
“Yeah, I did. Not much though, cause of my earlier nap. I’m going to get my schedule back on track today. I wanted to make sure you had something since I know breakfast is the easiest to skip, but it’s important after a long night. I cut up some fruit, and the finished pancakes are over there,” she says, pointing at a plate.
Damian eats quickly, then heads to work. The next few days pass in a blur, working at WE, working with Stephanie, sleep, nightmares, more food than he’s eaten in months. Then the day he’s been dreading, Friday. Work is brutal as usual, but Stephanie is waiting when he gets home.
“Brown, I wasn’t expecting you here this early.”
“Yeah, I thought I would help you get ready. It’s probably been a long day, and you finally get to see Jason again. I’m happy for you, but we don’t want you any more stressed than you already are. So I got your bag packed, and put a few outfits on your bed. If you want to pick something else, I will not be offended. I’m only trying to make this easier for you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the gesture. I will go put on one of the outfits you picked out for me. Then I’ll head out.”
He ends up putting on a pair of jeans, a light green button up shirt that he tucks in, and boots. He styles his hair, puts a belt on, and walks back down the stairs. Stephanie holds out his bag, and he grabs it with a nod.
“Be safe.”
Damian hums, heading down to the cave. Star is exactly as he remembers it, and he gets looks from everyone he sees on the thirty minute walk to Roy’s house from the Zeta. Lian is the one to open the door, her hair tied back with tiny braids. She smiles, and Damian is struck by how old she is now. She was nine when Dick went missing, and after some quick mental math, Damian realizes she’s thirteen now. The same age he was when it all happened. It feels like an eternity ago, but seeing her reinforces that idea in his head.
“Uncle Damian. It’s been forever. Please come in, Dad and Papa are finishing up dinner, but I already have the table set.”
Damian nods. “It’s good to see you. I brought you something.”
Her eyes light up.
“Come on, you can have it when your parents meet us at the dinner table.”
She grabs his hand, holding it as they walk to the table. Damian can hear Jason and Roy in the kitchen, arguing about seasoning. It feels achingly familiar. Jason sounds better, not so tired, and happier even though he sounds agitated. He sounds more alive, something Damian has heard less and less in his own voice over the years. Sometimes it’s like listening to a computer talk when he speaks, but he does try to sound as lively as possible. They sit down at the table, Lian taking the seat next to Damian. Roy comes in first, bringing in rice and beans.
“Damian, I’m glad you could come. What do you want to drink?”
“Water will be fine, thank you.”
He nods, and disappears back into the kitchen. Damian can hear him and Jason whispering for a minute before they come out together. Jason sets down the pot of meat he has, then pats Damian’s head.
“Hey, Dames.”
“Hello, Todd.”
“Papa, Uncle Damian said he got something for me.”
Jason smiles. “Of course he did. He’s like that. Always thinking of everyone, so thoughtful, my little brother.”
Damian rolls his eyes.
“I know, I remember.”
Damian reaches into his bag, shuffling around the front pocket. “I know you like dance, and you’ve been doing classes for a couple of years now. So I got the three of you this,” he says, handing her three tickets to see a ballet show in a nicer town an hour or so away.
It’s a pretty famous show, Giselle, and the actors are good in this troop, he made sure before buying the tickets. Lian’s eyes light up, and she jumps up to show Jason and Roy. Jason smiles softly at her while Roy tells her that’s great.
“Thank you, Uncle Damian… I can I ask him now?” she asks, turning to Roy.
Roy nods, leaning back in his chair. Damian turns back to Lian.
“I have a recital in a month, and I got a solo. I was wondering if you could come.”
Damian pauses, unsure of what to say. “Of course I’ll come,” he says after a moment.
His heart hurts watching Jason with another family. He feels somewhat abandoned, but there’s also no way he can say no right now. None of that is Lian’s fault, and he refuses to make it hers.
Also, Jason did nothing wrong, he’s protecting his own peace. You’re not worth anything, and you cannot make him feel bad for leaving. You’re dealing with Gotham, you’re fine. You don’t need him, and that’s why he left. He knew you would be fine.
Lian throws her arms around Damian’s neck, hugging him tightly.
“Thank you! I’m so glad you said yes. Dad tells me how busy you are, and I can’t imagine running a company. Thank you so much for taking time.”
Damian runs his hand up and down her back comfortingly instead of his normal stiff hug. “Of course. Nothing can make me too busy for this.”
Jason smiles, sitting down on Damian’s other side. “So, what have you been up to?” He asks, beginning to serve everyone food.
“Nothing much, mostly WE work. Different people are phasing out, and I’m having a hard time replacing them, so I’ve been picking up a lot of slack. How about you? You said you got a job?”
“Yeah, I’ve been in therapy. That’s going well, and I think I’ve finally got the psychosis episodes under control. That allowed me to get a job. I’m working construction since I need to start physical work again, or I’m going to go crazy. The gym is not cutting it. And I met someone. I don’t know if it’ll go anywhere, but it’s fun right now.”
“That’s… nice. I’m glad you’re doing well. Roy, Lian, how are you two?”
“I’m doing good. Keeping up with my jobs, it’s a lot sometimes, but necessary,” Roy replies. “And I have this wonderful angel to come home to every night. So I can’t complain,” he says, ruffling Lian’s hair.
Lian finishes chewing before saying, “Dance has been amazing. I got a new group a few months ago, and they’re not mean. The last ones were pretty bad. I don’t know if you remember me telling you about that.”
Damian hums, taking a small bite of his food.
“But these new guys are great. And I’ve been maintaining A’s and B’s, so that’s good. Katie is doing a semester abroad this summer, so I’ll have to figure out what I’m going to do.”
Damian, remembering that Katie is her best friend, says, “Wow, that’s good for her. What’s she studying and where?”
“She’s studying films in India.”
“That’s awesome.”
Lian nods. “I’m very proud of her.”
Dinner continues like this, though Damian begins contributing to the conversation less and less. Finally it’s over, and Damian stands to leave. Normally he would offer to wash the dishes, but he can’t imagine doing that with how much he hurts. He’s not even sure why, but his mind is swirling and he feels like he’s going to throw up.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. It was wonderful to see all of you.”
“Ok, bye, Uncle Damian.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Jason says, running a hand through his hair.
Damian turns, and begins walking away. Jason follows him, stopping as soon as he’s closed the door behind him.
“Thank you for coming. I know I haven’t been helpful to you, or even present, but I do care about you. I won’t go back, but I still want you to know that you’re welcome to come over here whenever.”
Damian nods. “Yes, it’s fine. I didn’t need anything from you, so you are… fine.”
Jason nods, casting his eyes down. Damian feels like he said something wrong, but he’s not sure what it was, so he decides to go home.
“I’ll see you around,” he says, stepping off the porch.
He barely makes it ten minutes before he’s throwing up in an alleyway. His chest hurts, and his head throbs.
He doesn’t care. He won’t put you first ever. You’re welcome, because he pities you. He feels bad that he left you in hell alone while running off to make a new family. Leaving the old one behind, because you’re the only one left. There wasn’t a family worth staying for. None of it matters, and you’re a tool again. You’re a tool he’s using to make himself feel better by inviting you over. By acting like he did everything he could… no, this isn’t his fault. You never deserved a family. You were lucky to have one for as long as you did.
He doesn’t end up going home, spending the night in the worst motel he can find. Some part of him hopes that someone breaks in and kills him. It’d be easier than going home in the morning, lying to Stephanie about where he was, then watching her leave again. Despite the many times he told not to give up on Tim, he was really telling her to give up on himself. And while she never did, she always came back, that only makes him a burden on her. She’s trying to take care of him, but he’s a lost cause. He can’t understand why she does this knowing how broken he is. So, he collapses on the bed, hoping he dies so he can free Stephanie and Jason from that last bit of responsibility over him.