The manner in which he receives treatment concerns her almost as much the wound itself. It seems like he becomes more and more like Bruce every day. It isn't right that they endure pain as well as they do.
She pauses every so briefly at his last comment. "Any leads?"
He nods, impassive as he watches her expert stitching techniques.
"Scarecrow is the safe bet, and there is considerable circumstantial evidence to tie him to it as well. There is a complicating layer to it all though. I think we're seeing a power play between conflicting criminal enterprises."
Reaching into his belt, he retrieves a flash drive and places it on the exam table. "I've been meaning to get this to you. It's a chemical analysis of some of the variants I've found."
His stoic expression turns grim.
"It's designed with the developing neurochemistry of adolescents in mind. Dopamine receptors are targeted, but that's not all. The addictive mechanism does allot of damage. Most users will either end up dying if they keep taking it, but kicking the stuff will require pharmacological assistance in order to survive the withdrawal stage.
I hope it helps if you start seeing some of the addicts showing up at the clinic."
That's been his experience as well, except for the rare occasion where he got lucky.
"Spoiler and I found a high school student ODing on one of the early variants a few weeks ago. They were calling it 'Blur'. We managed to stabilize him long enough for the paramedics to get there. ."
He checks his gauntlet and the flip-out display it conceals, checking police-bands in the area while Leslie works.
"We ended up bringing in Superboy and traced the dealers to a semi-permanent twenty-something rave club called 'Full Tilt'.
We ended up running into Bane. It turns out he's after the dealers too. Seems he didn't like what was happening to the kids either."
Bane remained a source of consideration for Tim. The man wasn't one of the 'good-guys', but he had come down on their side on that issue. He also knew way to much about Tim and Bruce for Robin's comfort. Bane. Damn. Tim knew he wasn't done with that puzzle.
His uniform is already bloody. One more hand print is added to it as Leslie plants her palm on his opposite shoulder to halt any forward movement. He may want to talk to Bane but he's not going anywhere until she's done.
"He's not forcing me on anything," she reassure him, unconcerned. "Last time I checked, he was still sleeping off the aftereffects of the fear toxin."
Tim's expression goes through several modes: surprise, concern, alarm, consideration, back to concern and then back to the default 'brooding'.
"Bane's becoming an X factor. In theory he's working for the government, a disavowed branch of it, but he's got Federal backing somewhat." He grimaces. "He also knows or guesses way to much about Nightwing, Batman and I and who we are for my comfort. I know you'll help anyone who comes through your door and obeys the rules but...be careful with him."