Tim curls both his hands around his cup drinking, stalling, and shrinks in on himself a little. "There was an army of military drones set to take out potential terrorist targets in Gotham." He lets that sink in a second. Potential. Not proven. "There was going to be a high civilian casualty rate. We stopped the first army of drones, but there was a second one." He debates how detailed and honest to be about this. "I was in bad shape, and then I wasn't there. I was in a prison cell outside of our dimension. Not here, somewhere else."

He makes a face. "I'm not a billionaire here." Not yet anyway, give him time. "But I'll save up for emergencies. Just try to keep things to the actual sparring facilities for a while until I do." It's not like he'd never broken Jason out of prison before.