"Have you ever counted crows,

One for sorrow, two for joy, three for girls, four for boys, five for silver, six for gold,

seven for a secret never to be told."

Seven: For a Secret Never to be Told

Tim was locked away in his room again. It wasn't anything unusual except that today was Tuesday; his parents normally didn't do this till Thursday. The argument was always the same or really, his parents called him a failure and unfit to be seen in public and Tim merely listened quietly by the stairs, his backpack clutched loosely in hand. So now, here he sat on the ledge of the roof, the cold wind caressing his hair.

Tim was bored out of his mind. He'd finished his homework for tomorrow two hours ago and the work for next week an hour and thirty minutes ago. Plus he was starting to get hungry, but Tim doubted that his dad would remember to bring him dinner. And he resolutely pushed away the ache in his chest and the pain in his empty stomach because Tim knew he had it way better than most children in this city. That this was better, he'd be dead or sold into a ring within a week if he got put in the system. So Tim was used to this treatment, it no longer made him cry at night. He'd merely make sure that next week we would be perfect and not get a ninety-eight on his chem test.

Sighing Tim stood up on the ledge and went inside before the pattering rain had a chance to ruin the pristine white carpet. It was well into the night now and after going through the motions of getting ready for bed he looked almost reverently to the calendar next to his nightstand. One day circled in bright red ink, only three more days till Mr. Wayne threw his big party. And Tim had been invited, something his parents couldn't refuse. What they didn't know was that the reason Mr. Wayne was allowing a ten year old to an all adult party was because Dick had given Bruce his puppy dog eyes.

Tim shuddered, he'd been subjugated to those eyes on more than one occasion and they always led to mischief. But setting the eyes aside, Tim couldn't wait; because Dick had promised to introduce him to the newest member of their family, Jason Todd. Brushing aside raven locks of hair before settling on his pillow, Tim dutifully tried to ignore the bats flapping madly away in his stomach from excitement in remembering the four hour long phone call where all Dick did nothing but chatter on about Jason and how when Tim came up to manor they were going to play a game of two-on-one — more than likely in their nice suits— of basketball. Dick happily boasted that he'd win and Tim had scoffed but he felt himself smile and not even care that Dick was probably right.

"Just three more days." Then Mr. Wayne and Jason would return from Bosnia and Dick would be coming in from Blüdhaven, he could wait that long. With this Tim felt the tight knot in his chest loosen before he slipped off into sleep.

Darkness. That was the only thing Tim could register, he couldn't open his eyes because of the heaviness in one and the blood caking the other and oh, that hurt. He gasped and managed to see through the sheet of red to the blood smeared across the pavement. Oh, God, his chest felt like it was on fire. Trying to move Tim felt the sick grinding of his ribs collapsing on top of the precious organs they were designed to protect. He screamed, only his jaw was clamped shut. This wasn't right. He needed to…something wasn't real. But it was. Maniacal laughter filled the warehouse and Tim felt ice cold dread grip his heart while blood bubbled up, filling his mouth.

Tim knew whose laugh that belonged to, he'd heard it enough times on the TV to not know. And now it was coming in stereo. This couldn't be happening, Tim tried to move even when he heard siren call of death, it only made his heart thud harder and his limbs turn to iron on the bed beneath him.

"Tell the big main I said hello."

He was going to die, agony. Everything was agony. It made the expression 'white hot' seem trivial. How he managed to crawl towards the door was…unbearable. Everything felt to warm but his breaths came out as frigid puffs of white. And oh God, he was dying. He needed to get out of here, to wake up. The bed he was on trembled but Tim sensed the bomb before he heard it, and felt where the countdown was before he saw it.

Tim was going to die.

Acceptance. Then fear when the world suddenly turned to fire and as Tim woke up clawing for air and his entire body rebelling against him, Tim wondered why, in this moment, was he screaming for Bruce.

AN: Please Read, Enjoy & Review

Inspiration from the fanfic writer: fallen angel 559