Since it wasn't Tim's turn for patrol, he was alone at Wayne Manor, going through the case files Bruce had initially been working on. He looked up as he heard a tapping sound at the window. Rather surprised, he drew back the curtain to see Ren out there.

He shifted back the glass pane to let her in but soon as the window opened, instead of stepping inside, she fell into his arms. He would have collapsed on the floor as well with her on top had he not steadied himself on time.

Seeing her in such a state had shocked him a lot and he held her so that she wouldn't fall, placing his hands on her back. But when he pulled back his hand, it was covered in blood.

"Holy shit, Ren, you're bleeding!"

Her suit was tattered from the back and even though the leather still clung together, he knew it was ripped. She didn't reply so he made her sit down on his bed, wiping his hand off before filling a glass with water which he made her drink carefully.

"What happened to you?"

"I'm fine," her voice was low from the pain, "just... Let me stay for a while here."

"You're clearly not fine," he remarked, "and you need bandaging. Wait here, I'll bring my kit."

But before he could leave, she grasped his hand making him stop and turn around to face her, "it's nothing."

"If you don't get at least some tincturing done, it will hurt even worse."

"No," she replied firmly, "I didn't come here for first aid."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, "then why did you come here?"

"Because your place was closer than mine and I don't think I would have reached home like this."

"My point exactly."

"Tim, I just want to rest for a while. Then I'll leave for my own place. You can go back to whatever you were doing."

"Are you fucking crazy?" he retrieved his hand from hers and opened the cabinet where he kept his medical supplies, "I can't just leave you like this."

He placed the medical kit on the bed and opened it, taking out the cotton wipes.

"Tim, there's no need..."

But Tim placed a finger on her lips, silencing her, "my place, my rules."

Despite the pain a mischievous smile broke out on her features, and he immediately pulled back his finger, cheeks burning scarlet.

"You do know that I'll have to take apart the leather first before treating the wounds?" he asked as he climbed on the bed as well, sitting behind her so that he could treat the wounds.

"You'll find a zipper at the back," she remarked, "pull it down but be careful."

He did as he was told and cautiously pulled down the zipper, exposing her back that was riddled with sharp cuts that were still bleeding. "You really got into trouble tonight," he breathed in a low voice.

He was assessing that even though most of the cuts weren't deep, still a few would need stitches.

"I got into a fight with a gang that was led by a wolverine wannabe," she spoke.

"Wolverine?"

"He was huge with claws attached to his hands."

He realized that she was probably referring to Ubu, one of Deathstroke's men who was in charge of a gang at Gotham.

"And why exactly did you get into a fight with them?"

Since the cuts were too many and it could take a lot of time applying tincture one by one, he went to the cupboard looking for a towel.

"They were kidnapping people, smuggling them inside a truck."

"Oh. And the Bats weren't there?"

"They came of course, how else do you think I could make it out of there alive?"

He soaked the towel in the antiseptic, "then what happened?"

"Then I let the Bats do the fighting and freed the hostages instead. Hood helped. As far as I know, they're probably still busy with them while I had to make my escape."

Tim went back to his earlier position behind her, "now look, Ren, this is going to hurt. But it has to be done."

She knew already what was going to happen, "I took the cuts, I can handle the tincturing."

"Sure you can," but then he surprised her by giving her his arm, "but you can hold on in case it hurts a lot. Don't worry I can handle it too."

He knew that way it would lessen the pain if only she could hold on tightly to something else. And since he didn't have any cushion to offer her at that moment, he gave her his arm instead.

"Wait a bit," she removed her gloves because the fingertips of those were sharpened like claws and she didn't want to hurt Tim.

He noticed that her knuckles were badly bruised, reminding him of how he had once seen Irina Luthor's hands that had the same bruised knuckles.

"Shall I?"

She nodded, both hands gently gripping his arm, "if I squeeze too hard, you'll tell me to stop. Promise?"

"Promise."

Very gently he placed the towel on her back, spreading it so that it would cover her skin. Since it was soaked in antiseptic, it burned upon coming in contact with her seared skin. She winced in pain and her grip tightened on his arm.

Tim tried to be as gentle as he could while he cleansed the wounds, but he could do nothing about the burning caused due to the antiseptic. The white towel had started to turn red by then and she was clutching his arm tightly.

"Damn, I hate antiseptics," she hissed, "I hope that wolverine bitch burns in hell."

"It's almost done."

"Hey Tim, you sure your arm's working just fine?" she asked as her grip slackened, "I haven't broken any bones, have I?"

"Not at all," he replied and flexed his hand joints moving it about, "see, no damage caused."

"Thank goodness. For a second I thought I heard something snap," she remarked though he knew by her tone that she was not being serious.

He removed the towel, placing it on the floor as he focused on the stitching, "anyhow, two of these gashes are very deep so I'll have to stitch them up. Don't worry, I know how to do it."

"I had seriously not expected this," she remarked as the pain had begun to subside apart from the slight punctures of the needle that was working on her skin, stitching it up together. "Like come on, how can a person be good at everything? Now I really doubt whether you're an alien disguised as a human."

A smile flickered on his face, "that's not the case."

"Of course for how could an alien be so fucking cute," she mumbled but he heard her and the blush on his face darkened even more.

After the stitches were done, he wiped off the slight traces of blood before securing the wounds with bandages, cautiously pulling up the zipper on her suit.

"Thanks," she replied as a smile danced on her face, "I'll gladly repay the favor anytime you want."

He shook his head, "I haven't done you any favor."

"Then what is this if it's not a favor?"

"On my planet, we call it friendship," he replied teasingly.

Her smile turned into a laugh and for a second Tim found himself raveling in the pure sound of it.

"Why the fuck are you like this, Tim?"

"Like what?"

"Like so awful in humor that it's absolutely adorable."

His smile widened as he bent down to pick up the towel and closed his medical kit, "would you like some coffee?"

"No, I should be going back home now." He tried to protest against it but she kissed his cheek gently taking him by surprise, "thank you, Tim."

And before he could recover from the shock, she had shifted back the glass pane and jumped off using her grapple gun as usual.

Tim's fingers rose up to his cheek instinctively, still a little unsure of what had just happened. But then his eyes fell upon the towel in his hands, so he decided to clean up the mess in order to distract himself from her.

But he could still feel the light brush of her lips against his cheek and once again, his face burned scarlet. Even if he was unaware of who she really was, despite having a guess at Irina Luthor, still he was rather certain that the effect she had on him was almost magnetic.

***