break - Frill - Red Robin (Comics) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1 Chapter Text

Timothy Jackson Drake was the Personal Assistant to Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises.

Yeah, that was something Tim never wanted to become. As a child, he detested the idea of working in a business setting. His parents made him hate people like them who left the work to lesser-paid employees while they reaped the rewards. At least with Bruce Wayne, Tim knew that he helped out in other ways. Jack and Janet Drake did not, unless one counted the shady business deals they’d make in other countries.

See, it all began when Tim graduated high school. It had been a hectic senior year. After both of his biological parents died, his step-mother died as well. He became emancipated in order to make the board of directors happy.

Drake Industries, funding one of his parent’s last digs while they were alive, discovered something that glowed green. Tim knew what it was, a few select scientists knew, and somehow, so did Lex Luthor. Ever since, Tim had been battling the board, Lex, and his own age while he tried to keep the Kryptonite away from any villainous hands.

The board of directors declared that Tim could only take his place as head of the company if he chose one of three options: Obtain a Business Management Bachelor’s Degree, be welcomed to the CEO position once he turned 25 years of age, or work in the business world at a respectable company for 2 years.

Tim obviously chose the latter. He was 18-years-old but he couldn’t last 4 years or more against Lex’s resources without giving away that something was incredibly wrong with him. Tim even tried going to college — it’s where he rekindled his feelings with Bernard again — but it became obvious that Tim couldn’t make it through.

After Tim graduated high school and a failed college attempt, he made a choice.

Wayne Enterprises was the best company around, especially for Gotham. Their health benefits, retirement program, and perks to the job made it a wanted position. WE was also on the list of companies that Drake Industries would approve for his fulfilled time of working in the business field.

Tim did what he needed to do. He called Bruce, one of the only people he could trust with his life.

Bruce’s voice almost seemed shaky that day as he answered, “Hey, Tim. Are you doing okay? I saw the news about your father. I tried to find you but your apartment was empty.”

Tim dismissed the sentiment and empathy in Bruce’s tone. If Batman wanted to find him, Tim would have been found. Plus, they ran into one another often. Oddly enough, the heir to Drake Industries was a high target for ransom demands.

“I need a job,” he ended up replying.

“I saw it on the news. Have you decided where you’re going? Or if you’re handing your company over instead?”

Tim had to force his eyes to not spill tears. He reminded himself that he was just a placeholder. He was a fake. He wasn’t ever going to be Bruce’s son. And that was okay. He knew that when he started it.

“I was wondering if there was an open position at WE. Something I can do for 2 years and then move on.”

Bruce was silent for a few moments on the line. He eventually said, “Yeah. Anything for you, Tim. We’re always searching for new blood that’s ready to enter the field.” After a moment he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to go to college?”

Tim had to grit his teeth. “I barely got through high school.” That was a whole other story. It was an entirely different conversation that Tim didn’t want to discuss.

“I… I know. I’m sorry you had to do that, Tim.”

“It’s whatever.”

Bruce didn’t talk. Tim forced himself to breathe. He hated this. These emotions that appeared out of nowhere each time he talked with the Wayne. Tim wanted to end the phone call yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed Bruce. Needed his help in order to get a job. In order to make his parents proud.

“You’ve never wanted to go into business,” he eventually murmured. Tim hated that Bruce knew that about him. Bruce then offered, “Drake Industries is always trying to merge with my company. If we merge, I’m sure that you won’t have to get a job. You could take your inheritance money or trust fund or whatever and live your life. Have that childhood you were never allowed.”

It was tempting. The idea of not having to deal with politics and people like Lex Luthor. Yet, Tim already made up his mind. He was going to at least try. And, a small part of him didn't want Bruce to have the Kryptonite either. What would he do with such a thing?

“I want to move ahead with a secure job. I could technically ask Lex Luthor if he wants me. Metropolis isn’t very far away. I don’t want to move to Central or Star City, but if it meant fulfilling the requirements—”

“I get it,” interrupted Bruce. “You’ll have to adjust your public profile but…”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of being an airhead. I was always pretty polite in the public, so feigning to not understand everything shouldn’t be too hard. I thought about being a doomsday prepper or something similar. ‘Batman can’t save us all’ and the like. It could be fun.”

Tim could hear Bruce’s smile as he said, “It could be.”

Tim hated that he liked this. The bonding. The idea of seeing Bruce in-person every once in a while. Ever since he came back from being lost in time, they hadn’t been close. They weren’t very close before that either, though.

Bruce said, “I’ll ask Lucius if there’s any good positions open. He’ll email you—”

“Thanks,” was all he said. Tim hung up the phone and tossed it onto the table under his hand.

He couldn’t do this. It was a horrible idea. Bruce would know. Bruce is a great detective. He would be able to spot Tim’s troubles miles away. Now Tim just set himself up to see Bruce in-person if he gets a job at WE. Bruce would figure it out. He would know about—

Tim forced himself to breathe.

That was how he ended up in his current predicament.

Tim was getting used to Wayne Enterprises — the civilian heroes in disguise, the villain attacks, the insurance that he had to keep using because stampedes of frightened employees were never good, and the overtime schedule — but he had never been forced to deal with the Wayne Family as a whole.

Bruce was the first to saunter in. He had his whole Brucie Wayne facade on, his steps carefully placed to be dramatic and showy. He swayed through the office like the charming playboy he pretended to be. Other employees on the floor were wide-eyed from their cubicles. Tim understood that sentiment. Bruce never came in person.

Tim knew the only reason why Bruce came in was because Lucius chewed him out. Mysteriously, there was a, uhm, paragliding incident 2 weeks ago that left him bedridden. Therefore, he couldn’t sign the needed papers and approve anything. Lucius was very upset.

Tim was slowly transferring all documents to be signed online. The board of directors fought him for it. Said paper trails were better. Honestly, Tim believed that the board was able to control Wayne Enterprises better when Bruce was forced to sign hundreds of documents all at once. The board was filled with incompetent assholes that didn’t particularly care if Bruce showed up or not. Tim wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

Bruce greeted him, “Hiya, Timmy, what’s on the agenda today?” His tone was playful but his eyes analyzed Tim up and down.

“There’s no meetings, Mr. Wayne,” he replied back stoically. His eyes briefly glanced over the vigilante. He wouldn’t leave. Tim asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”

Bruce’s face faltered for a single millisecond. “Nah, I’m all… good.” He walked into his office with less sauntering and more gloom.

Tim knew he was a bit mean. He knew it was rude to be that way when Bruce saved him. Saved him from falling into a pit of despair. But Tim couldn’t look at Bruce without frustration bubbling up in his throat. How could Bruce say he loved him like his own children, trusted him, and saw him as an equal when he let so many things happen to Tim?

Tim tried to put up with Bruce, though, even if the man wasn’t a good father figure to him. Tim brushed that thought away. He had parents. He had 3 great parents. Sure, only Dana seemed to like him for simply being alive, but he still loved Jack and Janet. Tim didn’t need an adult. He was his own person. He didn’t need to rely on others.

But something was new. Something was off. Tim should have known the day was cursed from the beginning. Within a minute, the rest of the extended Wayne family had shown up.

Damian, the youngest, was in the front. Dick, the oldest, was behind him as if showing off the newest puppy. Jason — returned from the dead only a few months ago legally — and Cassandra, who were the deadliest of them all, walked behind them a little slower. Duke and Stephanie were also there, but they seemed to have made a quick snack run, for their arms were filled with junk food.

Tim felt dread in his stomach. This did not bode well. sh*t. He should have quit WE when he could. He should have moved cities. Anything to get away from the vigilantes. Damnit, part of the reason he quit being a vigilante just so he could stop interacting with these people— with the reminders of his pain.

Dick chirped at him, “What’s up? Sorry. Uhm, how do you do? That doesn’t sound right either. So, look, we wanted some family time, but B decided that he needed to check in for work. I’m sure you’ve heard the news and all, being his, uh, secretary—”

“Personal Assistant,” corrected Tim, voice calm and quiet compared to Dick’s.

“Uh, yes. Anyway, I’m sure it won’t take long. We decided to just follow him around to make sure everything’s in check.”

“It’ll be a while.”

Damian spoke, then, “Father said it wouldn’t. Are you calling him a liar, you bastard!?”

Ah. Tim did not miss Damian’s air of arrogance and ego. Though the kid was getting better at it. Tim had seen him recently. He was becoming more of a kid instead of a weapon. Tim made eye contact with Dick. The older one seemed to be apologizing with his eyes. Tim held in a sigh.

He glanced back at Damian. “Mr. Wayne hasn’t been in the office for 3 weeks, almost 4. As CEO, he must approve most decisions. The estimated time for him to finish his paperwork is approximately 3 and a half hours.”

Dick chuckled awkwardly as Damian sized him up. Dick looked awkward as he said, “Thanks… for that. Erm, but that should be it, right? After that, he’s good to come home?”

Tim clicked his mouse. He opened up Bruce’s calendar on his screen. “Mr. Wayne does not have any meetings scheduled for the day.”

“Cool. So. Uh. Yeah. Thanks for that.”

“No problem, Mr. Wayne. Is there anything else I could assist you with?”

Dick immediately blushed. Tim could hear Jason’s laughter and Stephanie crinkling the bags of food in her arms from holding in a chuckle. It was good payback for Dick ignoring all of the times Damian poisoned his food. Maybe Damian didn’t know he was allergic to kiwis, but the rest of the times were definitely not accidents.

“Mr. Wayne,” echoed Jason, his face lit up in excitement. “Did you hear that, Dickie-bird?”

“I heard it,” muttered Dick.

Cassandra suddenly appeared in front of his desk, even closer than where Dick and Damian were standing. She eyed Tim particularly, assessing him in some strange way that made his skin crawl. She eventually said, “Reschedule.”

Tim felt the need to be dramatic. He was barely able to hold it down. He responded carefully, “I do not choose when he comes in. He could leave at any time.”

She frowned in confusion. “You do not schedule events?”

Tim shook his head. “I’m sort of just, like, a figure he doesn’t listen to. I tell him to go to a conference in Metropolis, and instead he goes to Kansas so he can visit a friend. I tell him Lucius is angered that he had to fill in for him at said conference, so Mr. Wayne just throws money at us both. I ask Mr. Wayne to please, just once, not go on a crazy vacation so he can attend a board meeting, but instead he gets injured while fighting off a pelican from eating his youngest son. Do you get it, now?”

The group seemed at a loss for words.

Damian broke it by saying, “Father lied. I was not the one attacked. It was Stephanie who needed backup.”

“Hey!” squawked the blonde. “I was holding my own just fine, thank you.”

Tim tried not to laugh. None of them knew he knew who they were. None of them knew he was Red Robin. None of them knew he had checked the mission reports with Alfred last Sunday and helped him clean the Batcave. None of them knew he used to be just like them. None of them knew he quit because he was weak and could still hear laughter—

Well, maybe Cassandra was figuring it out. She was almost the most observant out of everyone, even Batman. Tim was sure if they spent any more time together, she would figure it out. The only question was if she would tell her siblings.

Tim asked, “Would you like to stay in a conference room, or would you prefer one of the company drivers to drive you around?”

“A conference room would be fine,” said Dick. He was gaining back his charm. Being at WE must have dialed it down. Shock, maybe. Hating business etiquette? Probable.

Jason gave a hoot. “Nah. I'd rather hear about B. What other stories did he tell you? Did he spread the news about each one?”

Tim spared a glance to look at the man who almost killed him. If they looked closer, they would see the faint scar across his neck. It was the only visible scar Tim had. The rest of his body was covered. His neck, face, and hands were the only parts that his clothing and accessories didn’t cover-up.

Tim said, fake chipper, “He happily informed us of the birthday bash last month.”

“Which one?” whispered Dick.

Tim blinked. He attempted to appear to be thinking. “You know, I don’t think Mr. Wayne ever told us which of you ate the entire cake in one sitting, therefore being sick the next two days. It’s probably for the best. He made it clear it was an embarrassing moment. Hopefully, whoever it was doesn’t do it again.”

“He said one of us got sick from eating a whole cake?” stuttered out Duke. “What? Why would he say that?”

Tim attempted to look confused, and it was successful. “Oh, maybe he did it himself and was too embarrassed to say. You know what, that’s probably it. He missed a meeting with Mr. Luthor, after all. The man had scheduled it two months in advance. I bet Mr. Wayne felt he let the man down.”

“Lex Luthor? B was meeting up with Lex?” asked Stephanie. Her voice was full of confusion and surprise.

“Well, Mr. Luthor is attempting to buy out WE. He believes it would be a beneficial agreement, but Mr. Wayne always turns him down. I suppose it’s a good thing. I turned him down too, so it must just be the weird feeling a person gets when shaking Mr. Luthor’s hand.”

“You turned him down too? Did he offer you a job?” asked Dick.

Tim frowned. It seemed the Wayne’s were incredibly bored. Cassandra, at some point, had disappeared and returned with a stack of chairs. She entered his office again and laid them out. The Wayne’s were gathered around his desk full of curiosity. He supposed the conference room would no longer be needed.

“He tried to buy my company.”

There was a pause. Tim made eye-contact with Stephanie. She mouthed, “Sorry.” Tim just smiled at her. She was a good person. He didn’t deserve for her to still see him as a friend.

Duke asked hesitantly, “As in, you own a company or something?”

“Drake Industries.”

“Oh! You’re Timothy Drake, our neighbor,” exclaimed Dick. His bounciness had officially returned. “You have longer hair now. And you’re, like, way older than the last time we met.”

“We have a neighbor?” Damian asked quietly.

Stephanie laughed into her hand. “Dickie, you didn’t recognize your own neighbor? You are slipping, man.”

Tim smiled at her. “I understand. It’s not like I was exactly remarkable.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t forget about you, unlike someone over here.” She elbowed Dick in the side. Her snacks were planted by her feet. “I could never forget you, Tim!”

He simply kept up his smile, but it began to feel more genuine. Stephanie was a good friend. She made middle school and part of high school bearable. Made him not hate the world and his parents and everything else in the rotten city. They attempted to date, but Tim felt guilty about her not knowing he was a vigilante while he worked with Spoiler every night knowing who she was.

“You two know one another?” asked Duke.

Stephanie seemed to be opening her mouth to answer, but Jason cut them off with, “I don’t recognize you, and you’re way too proper to be from around here.”

Tim snorted. The group looked at him questionably. “Really?” asked Tim. “Cause, well, we went to school together, Mr. Wayne. If only for a short while.”

That time, Dick laughed. “See! I’m not the only one who’s apparently forgetful. Ha. I’m still awesome.”

Cassandra smiled to herself. “It seems not everyone has a good memory. Happy to meet you, Tim.” She looked all-knowing, probably thinking about knowing he was a past vigilante.

Tim prepared to break her walls. “Miss. Wayne,” he said, looking at Cass, “you attended the same school as Miss. Brown as well.”

That seemed to shock the Wayne's.

“No way!” shouted Duke. “Cass even forgot he existed. Dude, did we meet and I don’t remember either?”

Tim let himself chuckle lightly. “You are, in fact, the only person I haven’t met before, Mr. Thomas.” Duke grinned. “I stopped attending galas about a year ago.”

Damian let out a noise. “Tt. As expected of insignificant elites.”

Dick leaned down to whisper something— likely about how Tim’s parents were all dead by the time he stopped attending galas. Damian looked away, guilt hidden in his eyes. Tim was fine with that. Tim knew Damian wouldn’t apologize, but his bar for the brat wasn’t exactly set high.

Dick coughed. “Sorry about him. He doesn’t read the news.”

Tim brushed it off, hoping for the awkwardness to disappear. “It’s fine. Kids his age should be sheltered from some of the crudeness in this world.” He almost smirked. Damian hated being called a kid.

“I am not a child—”

“He’s very sorry,” Dick reassured. Tim held up a smile. It was cracking but still there. Damian bit his tongue while Tim tried to not feel like a maniac. Being a ‘civilian’ had its perks.

Jason then asked, “You had to attend those boring galas. Were you secretly happy when more villains started to pop up and they got canceled early when the gala got robbed?”

Tim replied, “Sadly, most of the galas I attended went smoothly. Although, one time Batman just, like, appeared. It was weird. I think he stole something from the technology room — I had seen him enter the room at least — but Mr. Luthor never reported a theft.”

“Batman, huh. Such an asshole.”

Tim hummed. “I prefer Black Bat, but we can all have our opinions.” He peered up from his monitor screen to see them all grinning at Cassandra. She, herself, had a small smile plastered on her face. “Who do you normally cheer for in fights?”

“Batman,” answered Damian, quick and swift like the sword he gutted Tim with once.

“Nightwing, duh,” said Dick.

Stephanie answered, “Oracle. Or, uhm, sh*t, I meant to say Huntress. Yeah. Huntress.” Tim pretended to not hear the slip-up.

All Jason said was, “Red. Hood.”

Duke just shrugged while Cassandra said, “The third Robin was my favorite partner.”

The room stiffened at that. Dick coughed. Stephanie gave into her urges and opened a bag of chips. Duke chugged down an energy drink. Damian glared at the Harley Quinn bobblehead on Tim’s desk. Jason’s eyes were closed shut.

Tim replied, voice almost hazy, “Yeah, I haven’t heard any news about him in a while. Did he change names?”

Tim was honestly interested in what they thought. How did Bruce explain his absence? Did Bruce mention anything about the time Tim took up the title Red Robin to save him after Darkseid? Did any of them know that Ra’s al Ghul regularly sent him gifts?

Cassandra shrugged, a dismissal. She asked instead, “Do you have good benefits?”

Tim paused. As in, like, his old vigilante days or his job? “The health insurance is great. I broke my arm 4 months ago when Two-Face set the building on fire. I didn’t have a bill for it.”

“Stampede?” asked Stephanie, voice blunt.

“Yeah. Turns out even the stairs are dangerous in those kinds of events. At least we weren’t frozen inside like last month. It was terrible. Everyone had already worked all of the overtime pay WE allows a person to work, so I had to manually extend the hours for every employee. It got me behind on work for a week.”

“...Why does it seem that you get attacked a lot?”

Tim stared at her unthinkably. It seemed pretty obvious. “It’s WE. Mr. Wayne publicly donates millions of dollars in hopes of stopping villains and criminals. The building even goes on lockdown when there’s a threat because of it.”

“It gets attacked that much?” asked Duke. “Wow. Good to know I’m doing well in life if I’m not under lockdown all of the time.”

“I wonder if we could somehow set off an alarm,” wondered Stephanie. Her eyes looked to the ceiling, to the doors, and in the corners.

“That could make B come home earlier,” added Dick.

“Does this mean I can burn this place to the ground? If so, I’m in,” stated Jason, already eyeing what to burn first. Literal stars were in his eyes. Tim resisted to shiver.

He held a hand out. “Please don’t,” begged Tim.

Cassandra gave him a pitying smile. Cass looked over to her siblings, then suggested, “Air vents?” Gee, she wasn’t happy with him disappearing out of the blue.

“Ooo, yeah, we could stink bomb the place,” said Stephanie, clinging onto Cass’s arm excitedly.

“I propose we kidnap father,” spoke Damian. They all turned to him. He held his chin up. “It is the fastest way to make him relax with us at the Manor.”

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

Tim knew they were joking. They were bored to death. They were used to fighting crime or training 24/7. Tim understood that. Adjusting to being a civilian took a lot of time. Then, Bruce got lost in the timestream and Tim found himself on a grand adventure trying to prove that Bruce was alive. That was his last and only mission as Red Robin.

As the Wayne’s continued to come up with plans to get Bruce out of his office, Tim texted the man himself. Within seconds, there was noise from Bruce’s office. The roll of a chair, the sound of metal clanging against one another, and finally footsteps.

Bruce flung open his door. It was only a few feet away behind and to the left of Tim, so he had the right to jump at the noise. Bruce stared at the situation. His children were interrogating and leading-on someone they thought was a civilian. Tim saw their evil little smirks. They were not planning to do any of those things, but messing with civilians was how they bonded.

Bruce stood behind Tim’s desk, and calmly said, “Kids, if you’d like, I can bring my papers home and sign them there.”

Everyone groaned. “B, that defeats the purpose of relaxing.”

“Then please don’t cause any trouble. I need to make this building last for at least another month. Please. We put so much work into the lockdown mechanisms.”

“I find them creepy,” chirped Tim.

Bruce laid his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “It’s for safety. All will be fine. Another hour or so, and we can go home. Why don’t you all pick out what movies you want to watch, and which board games you want to play?”

“Jenga!” shouted Stephanie.

“Go fish,” suggested Duke.

Jason declared seriously, “I want to finally beat your ass at Monopoly.”

Bruce gave a light-hearted smile. “I’m sure we can do all of that and more. Just, in the meantime, stop distracting Timothy from work."

Tim muttered sarcastically, "You're so kind, sir." Cassandra smiled wide at him, as if catching the joke.

Bruce patted his shoulder up and down. "Timothy, why don't you show my children the lounge. Steph and Duke may be supplied, but others aren't."

Tim eyed the room. The Wayne's were communicating without him. Or, attempted to. Bruce was obviously making it clear that he wanted Tim-the-civilian out of the room. Tim wondered what Bruce knew that he didn’t. An attack, maybe?

Jason stood up first. He grinned. "I, for one, am trying to get away from family drama. Timbers, I would love some coffee. Where do I get it?"

Tim replied, "I can show you." He stood up and walked to his office door. Jason lagged behind him.

Then Bruce said, "You know what, Tim, I think we have a pet adoption center going on two floors down. Would you mind taking Damian with you? He's been hoping for a dog, but only cats seem to love him."

Tim blanked. It didn't make sense. Bruce was practically forcing his youngest son to leave the room. Why would Bruce do that? Is there something going on that could be a danger? Why would Bruce push both Jason and Damian to get out a single civilian?

"Father," said Damian, voice aghast at the idea of being told to leave the room, "I can check it another day."

"You'll have fun," promised the said father.

That was how Tim ended up leading Jason and Damian to the staff lounge. The elevator ride was made in silence. They stepped off the ride while Tim ignored his instincts to run away. He felt like a gazelle being chased by a lion.

Jason said, "I heard that you get abducted a lot." Damian scrunched his nose at the idea.

"Yeah, well, being the Drake heir as well as working so closely with Mr. Wayne puts a target on my back. Usually, nothing goes too wrong. I've only been interrogated a few times. Mostly they just hope to get money," said Tim.

Jason whistled as they entered the lounge. It was lavish compared to Tim's office. Sofas lined the walls, there was a complete line of coffee machines, and a small cooking area next to a large fridge. It was nice, especially compared to Drake Industries.

Jason started on his coffee as Tim led Damian to a seating area. There was a single table with chairs in the corner. Jason joined them at the table after starting up a pot of coffee. He seemed slightly lost to the fact as to what Bruce was thinking, but was taking it in stride. Damian wasn't coping well. He seemed to stare at the table in contemplation of angering his father. Tim wondered what Bruce was thinking, making him take his traumatic experiences to the lounge.

Damian eventually said, "I suggest we take our losses and leave the scum here while we go back to father."

Tim pretended not to hear him. He took out his phone and scrolled through his messages. Bruce, the bastard, sent him a smiley face as of 10 seconds ago. He held in a groan. Even if he was Batman, Tim was about to lose it.

Jason sat with his elbow on the table and his hand holding his head up. He said to Damian, "That seems rude, just saying."

"Father clearly thinks of Drake as an imbecile. I need to return to his side. You may babysit if you want, but I have better things to do."

"Hey, hey, hey. B told us to chill out, so chill. My coffee’s almost done anyway.” He looked at the pot slowly getting filled with dark liquid. “We’ll go visit puppies and sh*t in a minute.”

“Tt. I may love animals, but father needs us. He must have been compromised, to send me out.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “I think he knows what he’s doing.”

Tim added, “Mr. Wayne is very wise, though I can understand that being grounded is embarrassing.” Both Damian and Jason’s eyes clicked onto his form immediately. Tim pretended to be at a loss. “That is why you were sent out, correct?” He was looking at Damian.

Damian sputtered, “Of course not—”

“Dude, Timbo, you are so right. He is grounded. He keeps sneaking animals into the manor. B let it go at first, but then there were suddenly two dozen animals loose on the grounds, and that isn’t manageable the way the house is set up. Not enough litter boxes,” said Jason.

Tim nodded his head. “Yeah. That can get hard. My mom was allergic to most animal hair, so I could never get a pet. My dad got me a snake, but when he saw it eat a mouse he returned it.”

“I saw one of those radioactive boas released last year eat, like, 5 rats down in the sewers.”

Tim hummed. “Yeah. Gotham is weird, isn’t it?”

That’s when it all went to sh*t. A loud, blaring alarm filled their ears. The door shut abruptly before the clicks of the locks resonated in the room. Tim looked to the window that was previously showing the busy streets, but now the window had turned dark and a metal cover was placed in front of it.

Damian demanded, “What is this?”

Jason slicked up from his seat. He got out a mug to pour coffee in. “Isn’t it obvious? Lockdown mode. A villain or criminal is either in the building, or attempting to get into the building.”

Damian groaned. “Drake, how do we get out of our prison?”

Tim shrugged. He was the civilian in this situation, after all. He figured the current-vigilantes could come up with a plan. He watched as Damian rolled his eyes and strutted over to the door. He banged on it multiple times. There was no effect.

Jason sat back down with his coffee. Tim gave him a nod of greetings. Jason bounced up his eyebrows in response.

Damian stomped to the table, eyes angered. He glared at Tim. “Can you override the lockdown? This must be why father sent us out alone. We are to take care of the threat.”

Tim looked down to his phone. Bruce sent him a message asking him to make sure Damian and Jason stay put in the lounge with him. Oh, Tim was having none of that. He didn’t even have information on what caused the lockdown. Tim walked over to the door, searched for the keypad, finding it popped out after 3 knocks in the bottom left corner, and entered his personal all-access code.

Damian seethed. “Why didn’t you do it sooner?” He didn’t look that menacing, but he sure was pissed off.

Jason grinned, refilling his mug with coffee before walking behind Tim. He said, “I am just loving the new look. Bruce designed it, yeah?”

Tim replied, “He asked for a security company to design it. He figured if he knew all safety protocols, then others would too.”

“Again, why not open the door when it first went under lockdown?” demanded Damian.

Tim pressed the button for the elevator. It spat out a keypad. Tim put in his access code. The elevator opened. They all stepped inside.

Tim explained, “He told me not to let you all out of the room.”

The elevator doors closed. Jason whistled as the digital numbers went down, down, down. Damian made an odd noise. Tim tried not to think about it.

“B must think we’re troublemakers,” joked Jason.

The elevator came to a calm stop.

Tim’s brow furrowed. Jason and Damian went on alert. Tim pressed the buttons. They lit up, but the elevator wouldn’t move. He pressed the emergency button, to find no response. Instead, his phone pinged. Tim took it out to see a frowny face from Bruce.

Jason peeked over Tim’s shoulder. “Wow, B’s petty, isn’t he? He must be mad that we didn’t stay in the lounge.”

Damain let out a snarl. “Is father serious!? We could be helping him. I do not deserve to be benched.”

Tim suggested, “We could try the elevator shaft. It should close under lockdown protocols, but—”

Damian was already crawling onto Jason’s shoulders. The eldest of the trio flashed Tim a grateful grin as Damian pounded onto the non-opening latch. It wasn’t budging. Tim turned to the doors. He tried to pry them open but knew it was futile. Bruce was getting serious about WE lockdown. People kept quitting because of the trauma they had to deal with after working in the building.

Jason gave the doors a try. Then Damian tried. No one could get them open. Plus, there was no telling if they could be in between floors or at one.

That was how Tim ended up trapped with two of the people he feared the most. Ra’s was at the top, maybe, but Tim still had flashes to the moments of his almost deaths. When they were just sitting down, he didn’t feel the nausea he felt now. He felt safe when there were numbers, too.

But now he was locked in with both of his attempted murderers, and they had both almost succeeded. Criminals and villains on patrol were different. These were people he thought he could trust, but instead they almost murdered him.

Jason was more easy-going now, but Damian clearly showed disdain for civilian-Tim. Jason sat down, clearly okay with not fighting someone, but was also messing with his fingers. Tim noticed he was counting to something. That’s when it hit him— Jason was going through a breathing exercise. He was afraid of having a panic attack.

Damian, though, decided the opposing side of the elevator was his to take. He looked grumpy, but he was still so young. Yeah, he was 14 or something, it made Tim feel bad for hating a kid. Damian didn’t know better. He was reprimanded but never enough. He still thought like his grandfather at times.

Tim stood against the doors. Maybe they would pop open soon and he would fall out. Maybe. Honestly, Tim was freaking out. He decided not to bring that fact up. Jason had calmed down, but still kept going through the motions of keeping a level head. That was at least slightly comforting. With Damian not moving, it made Tim’s scars itch.

Tim took out his phone to send a sad face to Bruce. He didn’t get a reply, but it said it was sent as well as seen. Tim cursed the man. He messaged Alfred next. He asked the kind butler to not make any of Bruce’s favorites for a week. Alfred inquired what for. Tim replied that he was trapped in an elevator with Damian and Jason. Alfred didn’t reply for a while. Tim was slightly worried, but then Alfred sent a thumbs up.

Tim put his phone away in his pocket. He searched for places where a keypad could possibly be. He wasn’t even sure if a keypad was in the elevator, but he might as well try. He felt and knocked on the walls, finding nothing.

Eventually Jason growled out, “f*cking stop, will you? It’s annoying.”

Tim, feeling like a moose when an orca swam nearby, quickly dropped into himself. He stood against the walls and kept quiet. Jason looked down, looking a tad guilty, but other than that all was the same.

Damian sighed loudly. “I wish I was trapped in the adoption center. The company would be better.”

Jason held in a groan. “Little dude, please stop trying to be rude. B will let us go later. I’m sure he’s handling things just fine without us.”

“That isn’t the point, Todd. Father put us on babysitting duty. If Drake wasn’t here, we could be with him instead of the fool.”

Tim wanted the walls to absorb him. At least then he wouldn’t have to pretend that his feelings weren’t getting hurt every time Damian spoke. Tim was never good at ignoring things people said. He could still hear Jason calling him pretender.

The elevator moved. Tim jumped back from the doors, just in case they really did pop open and make him tumble out. They reached the first floor. The doors opened.

Tim stepped aside for Damian and Jason. Though Jason was attempting to keep cool, Tim noticed he was just as antsy as Damian about being put on the back burner.

In front of them, Bruce and the rest of his children were already there. Tim blatantly pretended not to see Duke’s red cheeks or Stephanie’s bruised arm. No, he could not acknowledge it. A civilian wouldn’t notice such things. The bruise was barely forming, still so, so faint. Meanwhile, Duke was probably only red-faced because he still felt happy as a vigilante. Hadn’t hit the bottom yet. He still gave it his all.

Tim sometimes wished he was still a vigilante. At the same time, he knew that making the deal with Bruce that his identity be kept secret from the team, was the best deal he ever made. Now Tim had the chance at being nothing but himself. It still felt weird, but he was sure he’d get used to it again soon.

Bruce greeted them, “Welcome out. You missed all of those vigilantes saving the building from Poison Ivy. She wanted to make the building her living space, but she’s already on her way back to Arkham.”

Jason gave a thumbs-up. Damian gave a tight nod. Tim, however, frowned.

Tim asked, “Isn’t the Joker still in there?”

“Uh…” Bruce looked around to see if his children understood where Tim was going with that fact. “Yes. He’s in Arkham. Most villains are.”

Tim raised a brow. “You put her in the same vicinity as the Joker? Why?”

That time Jason turned around to face Tim. “Is there a problem?” Though Jason was able to be locked in a box for an hour with Tim, it was only now that his eyes began to glow green at the boy.

“Well, yeah,” continued Tim, attempting to be oblivious to Jason's temperamental status. “He’s abusive. He already killed Harley’s pets when she broke it off with him, what do you think he’ll do to her new girlfriend?”

Jason’s eyes dulled down, and instead his face was contorted with confusion. “Ivy and Quinn are dating?”

Tim looked at the Wayne's like they were bat-sh*t crazy. They were so damn clueless. How did they not know?

“Why else do you think the Joker and Ivy have been starting wars every time they’re both out of Arkham? He didn’t create an acid that destroys all organic matter just for sh*ts and giggles. It’s one of the most brutal things he can do to her plants.”

“The villains are killing innocent civilians in a war over Harley Quinn?”

Tim couldn’t help but stare at them like they were crazy. He subtly pinched his arm to make sure he was awake. He gave one last awkward wave to Bruce before turning to the exit.

Bruce called for him a few moments later with an outstretched hand, “Tim, there’s still 3 hours of work left!”

Tim turned around, walking backward. “Mr. Wayne, I worked too many hours this week. You’ve been paying me overtime all day. I’m going home and pretending that you’ll make your next board meeting no matter what. It’s tomorrow, by the way. Please don’t miss it. You must go, even if Batman hits you with his car again.”

Tim finished running out of the building while he could. He just had to slip past while they were all in shock.

He did manage to hear Stephanie say, “How many times has Batman hit you with his car, B? Should we file a lawsuit?”

Tim hoped he wouldn’t see so many of the Wayne's all at once. A 3-day weekend sounded nice. He boarded the bus, unlocked his bike from his normal pole, and bicycled home. He entered Drake Manor with a sigh. He was tired. He was finally feeling the adrenaline leave him. He needed to just rest.

---

— — —

---

When he was younger, he remembered watching the news reports of Batman. Of how violent he had become after Robin died. No one outright said the words, “Robin died from being a vigilante.” That was too sacred. It was only written on odd posts that never got attention. It wasn’t a secret per say, but it wasn’t a known fact either. It was just there.

Tim used to look at the photos he took — used to laugh and nostalgically write notes about the nights or what he remembered from the situation — before filing them away in a box. They were to never be seen. He felt guilty just for taking them. Some of the moments were intimate. They were family after all. Hugs and sobs and laughs and pranks. Tim filmed it all.

Tim also remembered begging Dick to come back. Tim had written letters, carefully trying to make his handwriting different so Dick could never figure out who it was. There was no response. Tim then sent texts to Dick’s phone directly. A nice girl at the library taught him how to hack. With nothing working, Tim left a note on Dick’s table in Bludhaven. Tim stayed until he heard Dick sigh while he read it.

Dick never went back to Gotham. Bruce was on his own, therefore Batman was going to kill someone.

So Tim did the only thing he could think of. He planned. He researched. He did all the things he was supposed to. Then, he walked up to Wayne Manor. It was daylight but Bruce was in a meeting in Metropolis because of Wayne Enterprises.

Tim carefully knocked on the door, his baggy gray sweatshirt feeling suddenly way too hot. He almost bolted. The butler had a good response time. Alfred opened the door. The old man gave a narrowed look to Tim, but didn’t seem angry.

“Young man,” greeted the butler, “what are you here for?”

“I know,” was all Tim said. When Alfred gave him a blank look, Tim repeated, “I know.” He was instantly pulled into the manor.

From there, Tim spilled his guts. He told Alfred that he knew Bruce was Batman, that Dick used to be Robin but graduated to Nightwing, and that Jason was Robin before he was killed. Alfred didn’t question Tim about the how, he just simply prepared tea and let Tim talk.

At the end, Alfred inquired why Tim came to the manor instead of releasing the news.

“I could never do that.”

Alfred accepted it promptly. They spent the day talking about the vigilantes. Alfred ushered Tim out before Bruce came home. He promised to take care of Bruce, but Tim couldn’t do it. He waited, he watched. Batman was still just as violent, if even more so after Tim visited Alfred.

Tim began to stalk Bruce through the city. He was always there for when Batman went too far. He had multiple burner phones in his backpack for every time something went wrong.

Then, a few weeks into being some sort of 911-operator of sorts, Batman cornered him in an alley. Batman demanded to know why a child was following him.

“Gotham needs a Batman. Batman needs a Robin.”

It shook and shattered Batman. The tough but heart-wrenching exterior cracked. Batman hugged Tim as tears poured down his cheeks. Tim didn’t care about being lifted up off of the ground. It felt oddly warm and comforting to be hugged and almost cherished.

However, it ended. Batman coughed, his hard exterior returning. He ordered Tim to stop before he disappeared into the night. Tim obviously didn’t stop.

A week later, Tim was targeted again. This time it was Bruce. He picked Tim up from school. Tim felt his chest suddenly turn hollow. Bruce smiled patiently. “Heya, Tim.” It was as if they were friends, or more like that the Drakes and the Wayne’s were friends. “Let’s do milkshakes.”

The drive was short and quiet. They piled out and into a diner that only had one person working. Incredibly odd. When the worker seemingly left after giving them milkshakes, Tim knew it was a set-up.

“You shouldn’t be out at night, Timothy. Leave the crime-fighting to me.”

“I can’t. You won’t survive it.”

Tim officially became Robin 4 days later when Batman and Nightwing were being held by Two-Face. Alfred gave him the idea and Tim ran with it. Tim donned a suit that wasn’t random clothing from his closet but instead a material that’d actually protect him.

The pact that Tim made came soon after. He told Bruce that his identity wouldn’t be known. Not to Dick, not to the Justice League, and not to any future vigilantes.

Tim announced confidently, “I’m a placeholder. I’m temporary until the next Robin comes.”

Bruce agreed easily.

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

Tim awoke to the sounds of birds. That didn’t seem right. There weren’t many birds left in Gotham. The whole aura of how f*cked up the city was tended to draw away wildlife, unless they were f*cked up as well. He turned his head, still drooling onto his pillow, to see a cage. It was a birdcage, thankfully.

Sadly, though, inside were two parakeets. They looked vibrant and kind, but Tim just knew there had to be some other motive. Plus, how did someone put a birdcage in his room without him knowing? It wasn’t there when he went to bed, so they had to do it when he was sleeping.

Tim willed himself out of his bed. He slipped over to the cage, inspecting it closely. He found the doors were locked and they had already been fed for the morning. There was still some seed at the bottom of the cage that the birds hadn’t eaten yet, as well. Tim briefly wondered if the two birds only made chirps or they could mimic human words too.

Tim received his answer when the yellow and green parakeet blurted, “Detective, such a delight.”

Tim felt shivers. He hadn’t been called such a thing for a while. Letters, of course, called him Timothy. He observed the room quickly, as if Ra’s al Ghul would tumble out of his closet.

The white and blue parakeet said, “I ask for your services in finding a threat.”

“It knows all things. It brings death upon your family.”

Tim couldn’t help but say, “Uh-huh. Sure.”

The green parakeet responded, “Dear Timothy, you may have quit but you are still needed.”

The blue one said, “It will be your fault if it is not stopped.”

“Expect a visit soon.”

Tim stared as the birds teetered amongst themselves after delivering the message. He wondered why Ra’s wouldn’t just leave a note, but knew that the immortal man was a dramatic son of a bitch.

Tim opened the cage, finding that they didn’t immediately want to fly out. Instead, they allowed Tim to check on their perch. The cage was large, but Tim wasn’t sure if they could truly spread out their wings while inside. Against his instincts, he left the cage open and walked away.

As he heard the birds fly around in his room, he simply hoped he wouldn’t come back to find his room trashed and pooped on. Tim decided to ignore the sound of crashes, and instead focused on what Ra’s was trying to tell him. It wouldn’t be the Council of Spiders because Tim had dealt with them already, so it must either be a new player or someone incredibly old that Ra’s has learned not to interact with.

It was not good news no matter which way Tim wished for. It didn’t bode well for any living being on Earth if Ra’s was reaching out for help. It was either super serious, or Ra’s was intentionally trying to unsettle Tim. The ex-vigilante sat down at his dining table and ate breakfast before going to war.

For backup, he went to Alfred first. Alfred knew that Tim used to be, plus he was possibly the best person in the world. He took his coffee to-go as he biked over to Wayne Manor. He arrived at the gates, only half-surprised when the gate opened automatically for him. He continued to pedal until he was by the front door.

Tim knocked on the door, coffee in hand. Alfred opened it a moment later with a pleased look.

“Timothy, what is it you need? Tea? Snacks? I will assist even if someone attacked you—”

“Alfie,” interrupted Tim, feeling like a sinner, “I was contacted by, uhm, I need your opinion.”

With one swift move, Alfred shut the door. He led Tim to the far reaches of the manor. They ended up in a small room with a set table, a sofa, and a fireplace with bookshelves lining the walls. It was where Tim would go to finish up his research in peace while the other vigilantes went to bed.

Alfred, once they were seated, inquired, “What would that man contact you for? He is aware you have retired from any sort of work that relates to what he does.”

Of course, Alfred knew that it was Ra’s al Ghul. Tim didn’t get unnerved on things aside from Ra’s. Alfred was the one who set him up with an appointment to make sure his splenectomy was truly okay. Tim had to take his antibiotics daily. It was a pain, but at least it was routine. He needed something to stabilize himself.

“I don’t have the full details. Parakeets appeared in my room to deliver the message. I think I’m naming them Seer and Prophet. Anyway, it gave hints about an enemy; a threat so great that Ra’s needs my help to get rid of them.”

“I do not like that you’re considering helping that man,” started Alfred, voice hard, “but I understand that you will protect anyone you can. My skills are at your disposal, Timothy. How may I assist?”

“I’m not sure yet. This just happened.” Tim took a sip from his coffee anxiously. “I should hear from him again soon, but that could be weeks. He’s immortal. His time frames are completely different from everyone else.” He bit his lip, looking down. “I just wanted to inform you. I trust you, Alfie.”

The butler smiled at the boy. “I’ll keep an eye out on their patrols to assure their safety. I would also like to add that Master Bruce hasn’t noticed that I won’t cook his favorite meals yet, but give it a day or two more. He’ll understand that what he did was wrong.”

Tim's voice shook as he looked up to Alfred. “I thought I was getting past it. They haven’t attempted to kill me for years now, and I still can’t help but quiver in their presence.”

“I’ll make sure Bruce never does such a thing again, Timothy.”

“Thanks, Alfie. I’m overdramatic about it, but thanks.”

“You aren’t—” Alfred looked down. “We can talk, Timothy. Quinzel and Isley broke out of Arkham on the downlow, so they’re occupied.”

Tim gave the rundown of what was going on in his life. The tiny cucumber sandwiches were his favorite thing ever. Not because of their taste, but because they were so cute. The taste was amazing, of course, because Alfred made them. The whole thing about Ra’s had Tim’s stomach churning, but he elected to ignore it.

Tim was going to have a peaceful 3-day weekend no matter what. Ra’s be damned.

He didn’t even make it to lunch.

He was meeting up with Bernard at some cafe that supposedly released a set of quiches that would even melt a villain’s heart. Bernard sent him a spew of texts about it followed by a whole bunch of emojis. Then, the meeting was set up. That was a week ago when Tim didn’t feel like the world was going to kill him. Well, he was being dramatic about it. Surely, it was only Gotham that had it out for Tim. The world was too busy for petty things, after all.

Tim waited outside the shop. He saw the blond head waving at him, but it was also followed by a hammer. Tim sucked in a breath. Bernard began to run when he heard the screams. Tim pulled his friend into the shop once he was close enough.

Harley seemed more focused on tearing up the street than going after civilians in coffee shops. However, she did pause for a moment when she saw him. Tim stayed still, trying to convey the right emotion. A moment passed before Harley continued to cause chaos.

Bernard whispered to him obliviously, “I am so sorry. I thought it would be okay to go out.”

Tim replied back, “It’s been a week. A lot has happened since then. You’re not psychic. It’s fine.”

Bernard gave a small smile. Then he turned to the rest of the civilians in the shop. Everyone was still hovering under tables, but were all looking hopeful. Once the loud noise of Harley destroying the street had mostly depleted, the cashier popped up and served up an order. A line began to form again, so Bernard and Tim hopped in it.

Less than 15 minutes later, they were sitting on a bench eating the egg souffles like they were God’s gift from above. And they were, that is. They were incredible. Tim could understand why the Riddler willingly went into custody after he managed to barter for some in a hostage situation 2 weeks ago. Tim could completely understand it.

Bernard then said, “Do you have somewhere to go today? Like, are you working? Do you need to get back to WE?” Tim shook his head. Bernard grinned. “Great. I bought that new game you mentioned last time — Red Fire something — so I thought we could try it out.”

For the next 2 hours, Tim and Bernard were planning a hostile takeover in the game. Tim spilled his drink on three separate occasions while Bernard managed to only tip the popcorn bowl over once. Tim was a little jealous. Here he was, a retired vigilante, and a civilian was less clumsy than him.

Eventually, a bird flew into the room. Bernard had a look of shock on his face. Tim couldn’t help but look away from Prophet and laugh at the blond. That made Bernard embarrassed, apparently, because he picked up a throw pillow and tossed it at Tim. Tim dodged easily, but that didn’t stop him from throwing one at Bernard.

At the end, Tim was waving Bernard bye as Prophet and Seer fluttered behind him happily. Tim closed the door to Drake Manor, then looked at the horror of it all. It was such a mess. He made himself not go upstairs until he finished picking up the ground floor. He could just tell that upstairs was going to be a headache to look at. Not to mention his bedroom would be a mess.

When he finally made it to his room after cleaning the rest of the place, Tim was greeted with a horrifying sight. There was no bird food left. Prophet and Seer would starve just because he was a lousy caretaker. Tim called for a cab immediately. This was the first time he had ever had a pet in his care for longer than 3 hours. He was going to succeed at it.

Maybe that was a mistake. Seeing as when he got into the cab, the driver shut the window to the front seats, then pushed a button. The next thing Tim knew, little nozzles in the back seat were releasing gas, and he was out like a light before he could knock out the glass.

When he awoke, it was to him being hauled into a building.

Well, he assumed it was a building. His vision was incredibly blurry. He felt firm hands carrying him up the way and eventually leaned his weight against the wall as they opened the door. He staggered in slowly. Another mistake.

He was shoved against the air conditioning unit as if those things hadn't fallen out of windows before. He’s more surprised that the bulk of metal wasn't toppling over as opposed to the woman standing in front of him. He slinked against the wall in order to sit down, already wondering if he could push the unit out in order to escape before his heroes arrived.

Sadly, Hays wasn’t playing around. For once, she looked like she might actually do her job all the way through. It reminded him of how she was the first time he was abducted and she was told to hold him in a separate place from the meet-up site. Apparently, she’d changed since last Thursday when she was playing cards with him as they waited for her boss to be arrested.

Hays looked different too. She looked stressed, her eyes constantly sparking around the room when they’re not busy checking her watch. She seemed off. Tim, well, he didn’t want to pretend he was all-knowing like an ominous presence that stalks their victims 24/7, but Hays had been his friend for the past few months, so he knew when something was obviously wrong.

He tried to be a good abductee. He put the metal cuffs around his hands carefully after plucking them from off the ground. He even started to make a gag out of his pant leg. He was sad to see it go. It was one of his new pairs, and, well, they were lasting for once. He had them for a month without any rips. That was a record. But, well, maybe the scene needed to look good.

Hays was the first to speak. She was older by over a decade, so it was her cue to pick up. She was the authoritative figure; the one with all of the power. Her gun was still positioned in her hand, held like a lifeline. She pointed it downwards at all times, but it would shake every time she checked her watch.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said abruptly. Her voice was soft, almost endearing at the fact that Tim was willing to do so much for her job. “I’m just… I’m okay, but tired. Sorry for freaking you out.”

Tim laid the makeshift gag on his thigh. He didn’t want to lay it on the floor just in case he needed to pick it up again and shove it in his mouth. He raised an eyebrow at her. She guiltily sat down beside him on the floor. She landed with a plop. Then, in one motion, she pulled out a lollipop and offered it to him. It was a dark purple color in the shape of a bat.

“Thanks,” he spoke as he gently took it from her hand. Tim popped it into his mouth after taking the wrapper off in a quick pull movement. He savored the sugary taste, then asked, “What’s your problem?”

“My kid wants to move in with his dad.”

“Yikes,” was all Tim replied. What else could he say? He was the one always trying to get away from his guardian, he was never the one trying to make the child stay. “Is your dirtbag of a husband still selling meth?”

“He took a quick class at some warehouse in Crime Alley. He makes it now. Better money. He bought some posh-ass mini-mansion a couple of towns over. Has a pool and sh*t.”

“My house has a pool. They’re overrated.”

Hays let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know that. Ever since Kroc attempted to pollute all pools to infect the rich, we know not to use it without that one pricey insurance that gives out medicine to revert back to human form, but Charlie is too young. He’s only ever known Batman and his weird gang of vigilantes saving people. He roots for the criminals sometimes, though.”

“Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy broke out of Arkham. Wouldn’t he know about that?”

She shrugged a what-can-you-do. “He likes them. Says they’re the best villains out there. I’ll take it, honestly. They’re better role models than the Joker and Two-Face.”

“Harley is incredibly smart, and Ivy truly does want to save the climate,” supposed Tim. He took a deep breath. “I can try to slander your husband, if you want.”

“Nah. I’m thinking of moving back in with him. Maybe give it one more shot before actually aiming for a divorce. I’m just sad I won’t see you anymore. There’s lots of other wealthy people to kidnap for money over there.”

“Change can be good.”

Hays gave a grin, finally seeming happy. “I’ll give it a little time. The more prominent reason I’m worried is that the goon that hired me texted. Said that Batman was onto us earlier than he wanted.”

“Did you get a good chunk of change for this?” asked Tim. He picked a bobby pin out of her hair and started to mess with the handcuffs.

“Good enough that if something goes wrong, like Billy starting to get a temper, I can run with Charlie for a few weeks without worry.”

“He’s such an asshole.”

“But now he can cook meth, so…”

Tim smiled at her obvious tone. “You’re a sucker for chemists, huh.”

Hays chuckled, then took out a lollipop in the shape of an ‘R.’ She bit down on it after a few seconds, then continued to chomp. Tim supposed she was still stressed from her family situation. He quickly undid his handcuff then finished off his own sugar glob.

“I can abduct an assistant at the town I’m moving to so you can get a job there instead,” she offered.

“I’m good where I am. Dick is set to take it over in a year or so. I just have to stick it out with Bruce Wayne a little longer.”

“I thought the little one — Damian? — was supposed to take over.”

“Dick decided that he wants to at least try to run it for a while. Bruce will still be there to help, but not be acting CEO.”

“Will you still be Bruce’s assistant, or will you shift over to Dick? Cause, you know, Bruce is an odd one, but Dick seems really eccentric.” Her voice almost sounded worried. Concerned, even.

“I might quit by then, who knows? It’s up in the air.”

“I heard Luthor pays well, and he’s only attacked by Superman. WE is attacked by multiple villains and criminals monthly.”

“Luthor mentioned the benefits were better at the last gala I attended, but Bruce lied and said that I had a contract with him, so Luthor promptly ended the conversation. Though the man did offer to take DI off my hands.”

Hays ruffled out another lollipop. “Why is it that we’re surrounded by asshole men?” The sugar didn’t stand a chance. 5 crunches and it was gone.

It seemed to be good timing. Batman kicked down the door. Hays quickly jumped up and fell back against the air conditioning unit, then landed on that instead of the ground, ran off to safety, and was never seen again.

Batman stared at Tim with dark eyes. He dismissed Tim’s kidnapper and instead focused on the abductee.

“Timothy, the board would like to discuss plans for a new—”

“Did you seriously only rescue me that quickly because you want me to stand in your place at the board meeting?” interrupted Tim.

Bruce’s silence made it painfully obvious that Tim was correct.

Tim felt fury rise in him. He spat out, “Sorry. It’s, like, 6 P.M. and I’m off for the day, in case you didn’t notice, and therefore will not be attending the 7 P.M. board meeting that I scheduled around your last meet-up with the Justice League. I am off of work— out of the office. Do your own f*cking job for once.”

Batman shifted, reaching a hand out just in time to stop Tim from following Hays and disappearing out of the window. “Wait, Tim, I need you.”

Tim was frozen in place.

If he was 12-years-old — still enamored with Batman and full of teen adolescence that made him want to do some real good in the world — then he would have fallen for it. He would have picked up the pieces that Jason left behind in his not-so-dead death and tried with all of his might to do anything Bruce asked. But even 12-year-old Tim knew not to fall for everything. He knew that being a vigilante wouldn’t last long.

“My bed is calling for me. Ever since the incident last week, I’ve been at work for over 16 hours a day to finish your paperwork because Batman was injured. You are fully healthy now. I know that your children are fine. If the world was in danger, then I would still be talking to my abductor as you saved it. Now, I will be checking in with Gordon before setting my sights on a relaxing weekend, so please, do not stop me by pretending I’m needed.”

Bruce removed his hand from Tim’s arm immediately. Tim cradled it for a moment, then stepped beside the man in order to go out through the broken door.

Then Bruce said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

That stung. Tim had only ever heard the billionaire say such a thing when he was pretending to be drunk when he was by the press in his bachelor phase when he was just starting out as Batman. Now, the man said it when he didn't want to attend a meeting at his own company.

Wow. How far would he go?

Tim continued making his way across the room, but he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He trailed his eyes to see Bruce’s gloved right hand.

“Remove it,” he gritted out.

Bruce didn’t budge. “Tim, I’m sorry.” When there was no response, he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t think about how locking you up with Damian and Jason would affect you. I just wanted you all to get along and—”

“Let go of me.” Tim jerked away as soon as Bruce removed his hand. He shuffled away quickly, leaving behind a lost-looking Batman.

Tim exited the partially destroyed office building. Ivy's vines were shriveled up in the cracks of the foundation. Tim didn’t know that she had done damage to other buildings, not just WE. He stepped over the dead plants, carefully nudging one of the flowers out of his way so he could exit the building.

The bus ride to the station seemed all too familiar. The driver didn't blink an eye at him but did say he didn't need to pay. Tim was a tiny bit thankful for that. His wallet was missing. Maybe Hays snatched it when he wasn't paying attention. He didn't have too much in there, but freezing all of his cards was going to be a pain.

He sat in the front and tried to pretend that the passengers around him weren't staring. His face was so common. Headline after headline about Timothy Drake, Abductee Once Again.

What was sad was the fact that part of the time Bruce or the other bats around were too busy with other missions, and instead Alfred would be told to pay the ransom or Tim would have to escape on his own without drawing too much suspicion to himself. Alfred was at least nice. He would drive Tim back home and make an array of tiny sandwiches while they listened to the news updating the world on how the Justice League banded together.

The bus driver wished Tim well as he loaded off and to the police station. Tim thanked her quietly before watching the bus drive off to its real stop. Then he turned around to his destination. The station wasn’t nearly as daunting as it used to be. It was normal to see it nowadays.

Tim entered and was immediately dragged to Jim Gordon’s office.

The Commissioner looked at Tim glumly. He pulled out a small stack of papers from his desk, then said, “What did the person look like?”

“File 3,” replied Tim.

“Ah.” Jim plucked out a different stack, and returned the older one to the drawer. “You call her Hays, I believe. Any new information you can supply for me to add?”

“She’s moving.”

He detailed nothing else. Tim was a good person to keep secrets. He still hadn’t told anyone that he basically raised himself. He even read a few of those parenting books when he was 9. He was an awesome parent, by the way.

Jim seemed to write that down. “At least she’s not our problem anymore. That must be nice. Maybe you won’t be kidnapped so often.”

“One can hope,” he replied, voice hesitant.

Jim looked up, his pen ticking in his hand. “You okay, kid? I assume that there wasn’t any sort of harm done to you, right? Do I need to get an officer to drop you off at the hospital?”

“I’m uninjured. Just a, uh, it’s a little personal. It’s not related to my abduction.”

“If you say so.”

Tim looked up to the clock. He abruptly said, “I’ll be going now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Although, I am missing my wallet. Can you add that to the report?”

“Of course, kid.” Jim gave a little sigh as Tim walked out from the station.

Tim went to the bank. From his account, he drew out a couple hundred dollars in somewhat small bills, then left. He took a bus to a pet store, bought bird seed and a few little toys that caught his eye, then left for home.

He took a cab, and thankfully made it home safely.

When he entered, however, Ra’s was standing by the dining table. The table was set for a dinner with them as the only apparent guests. Tim threw some bird food on the ground, unsurprised when Prophet and Seer heard the noise and immediately swooped down from their hiding spots. They ate while Tim sat down.

He should have expected this. Ra’s and his gifts had been upped the past few weeks, and Tim felt an odd presence following him for the last couple of days. He was dumb to think that Ra’s would stay away.

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

Ra’s finished pouring himself wine. There were two bottles on the table. One, Ra’s was drinking from, and the other was simply sparkling cider. Tim was still underage to drink. At least Ra’s understood that. It’s the small things, ya know? Tim picked up his glass in order to take a small sip. He set it down just in time for Ra’s to sit.

In his gloating pleasure, Ra’s said, “Timothy, I am happy to hear you are safe. I knew you were regularly held, but I didn’t expect it to happen just before I started dinner. I suppose you’re alright, seeing as you aren’t seeking medical attention.”

His eyes inspected Tim from over the steaming hot dish in the middle of the table.

“What do you want?” drawled Tim.

Ra’s simply served up their plates. He set them down with soft clangs, then he began to speak. “The birds delivered the message earlier in the day. Have you looked into it?” He frowned, already knowing the answer. “You were awfully busy mingling all day. Do you, perhaps, know how incredibly stupid it was for you not to look into what I said?”

Tim stabbed his fork into the dish, not quite taking a bite yet. He gritted out, “I am retired, Ra’s. I think the whole community knows that by now. I don’t do vigilante work anymore. I am trying to get my life together. I have a company to run—”

“We both know you could continue to be a vigilante if you desired. Something as pesky as a day job wouldn’t stop you. No, I think there’s something else. Is it perhaps because your friends died? Ah, Wondergirl, Impulse, and Superboy. How are they? Last I heard, you dismantled the team. I quite liked Young Justice, you know. The core group.”

“We moved on. End of story.”

Ra’s grinned. It was not his normal grin. This one was dark and knowing. Tim tried to not look fearful, but knew that his chest was pumping too fast for Ra’s to not notice.

“I wondered how you could quit. After everything you’ve done for the heroes around you, surely they would have talked you out of quitting. That’s when it hit me. Around the time you quit, the Joker broke out of Arkham.”

Tim felt every muscle in his body pulse in fear. His right eye twitched, the searing pain of memories he tried to forget riding up into his skull. He dropped his fork. It hit the glass plate loudly, leaving the two in silence.

Ra’s continued, “It was also around then when Harley Quinn broke up with the man, is it not? What did he do that caused her to end things? As soon as I looked into your school attendance, then compared it with purchases and social activity, it was obvious.”

“Shut up,” he said, voice quiet enough not to hear from 3 feet away.

“He had you for what? 5 days at least. If he was smart, he would have planned it at the times Scarecrow, Penguin, and Riddler all occupied the Bats. With that taken into consideration, it would be around 8 or 9 days. You were, after all, cutting in and out from your comms. Does the tech analyst — Gordon, I believe? — know that she missed your pleas for help as the Joker started the torture?”

“Shut up.”

“I told myself, Timothy is smart and cunning, he wouldn't let a low-level thug break him. But he did, didn’t he?” His smile turned pitying. “See, Timothy, the threat I spoke of isn’t something on the outside. It isn’t a new villain on the rise. It’s you.”

“Ra’s, I am not going to get the Wayne’s killed. You’re being dramatic.” Tim sat up straight. “Why?”

The assassin gave a cold glare. “I am not dramatic.”

“That’s a lie.”

Ra’s twirled his fork around. “I merely would like to say that without you, the Wayne’s will fail. Gotham will fall into ruin.”

“They’re stronger than that,” drawled Tim.

“Perhaps. Either way, Timothy, you were never meant to be a civilian. You’re not honed for it. You were made to fight against what you perceive is wrong. Not doing so will wear you down.” Ra’s took a sip of his wine. “I assume you need a little nudge in order to come back to where you belong.”

Tim picked his fork up, twirling the dish around the metal. “I am going to lead a normal life, Ra’s. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me be. I have better things to do.”

“Like what? Play a video game?”

The blue-eyed boy picked up his glass. “If you must know, I am having me-time. That means no one is allowed into the manor. That includes you, just in case you couldn’t tell.”

Ra’s tutted. “You’re no fun when you’re stressed. I suppose I could get out of your hair soon.”

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

The news was already relaying the report with vigor. “Drake Heir and Wayne Assistant was abducted while on a lunch break. The only photograph of the assailant was caught by a phone—” the footage played while the man spoke, “—of a passerby. The image is incredibly blurry, but there could still be recognition. Drake hadn’t been abducted for 2 weeks. It was a record, however that has now ended. Back to you Jill—”

Jason stared at the television at the bar. Everyone was staring at it. He saw the bartender pick up a piece of chalk and draw a line on the board. It was practically filled. Jason wondered if each tick was an abduction count.

The asshole next to him commented, “Maybe the kid will be killed off this time.”

Another one argued, “Batman will save him. Or the other capes. They’re always saving his scrawny ass. Wayne supports them, you know.”

“Batman won’t always have time to show up.”

Jason repeated the lines in his head. The dude was right. Bruce was in a conference in Vancouver, Washington. The rest of the vigilantes were either in school or patrol. Jason walked out of the bar, already calling up Stephanie and Cassandra. They were patrolling, so they’d be ready to go kick some butts.

The comm picked up. Jason was thankful. He didn’t want to be the main reason why his father’s Personal Assistant died while he was out of town. Plus Tim seemed pretty normal and kind, if a bit strange. Jason learned the hard way that rich people were strange, though.

Jason asked, “Hey, did you hear about that kid—”

“We’re tracking him right now. So far, it’s leading your way,” replied Stephanie. She seemed to be out of breath.

That meant they were going to Crime Alley. Jason put on his helmet and revved his motorcycle. He had just pulled out of the lot.

“I don’t have eyes on Drake. Do you two have eyes?”

Jason paused as he stopped in the middle of the street. The Batmobile was being driven by Steaphanie but some figure was running into the street—

Tim Drake was hit by the car, went flying through the air, and landed onto Jason’s still form.

Jason tumbled down from the weight of it. He could hear the shouts, mostly from Steph but a few from Cass. Jason stood up, a bit shaken but uninjured. He felt Cassandra’s hand around his shoulder while he looked down to Stephanie checking Tim’s vitals. The blond had dragged Tim’s unconscious form off of Jason.

“He’s alive,” uttered Steph, “but he’s out of it.”

She was panicking. Cass thankfully started to guide her on what to do. Stephanie started to drag him to the Batmobile with Cassandra’s help.

Jason looked around to find that no one was looking at them. No one had seen the vigilantes run over a civilian. That was good. Bruce could never learn of this.

Jason parked his motorcycle in the alley. It was a known Red Hood vehicle, so no one should touch it. He hopped in the back of the Batmobile while Cass took the keys and Steph looked horrified at running over her ex.

Cass drove slowly at first then she asked, “Hospital?”

“No!” both Stephanie and Jason shouted.

Cass stopped the car impatiently. It squeaked from the suddenness. “Then where?”

“I know a place a block down. Might make us pay a little, but it’s worth it,” said Jason.

That was how they ended up at a black market hospital. Well, black market clinic, based on size. They wouldn’t go to Dr. Leslie Thompson’s because she would tell Bruce immediately. She didn’t mess with life. Plus she put up with no sh*t.

Steph whispered, “Is this safe?”

“Do you want to explain to B why you ran over your ex?”

“Hey!” She crossed her arms. “I didn’t do it out of hate. He came out of nowhere.”

“He’s a civilian that Bruce likes, Steph. He’s going to assume you hate him, or you hate Drake. Once he does his detective-y thing, he’ll discover you two dated. He’ll automatically think it ended badly and you got revenge.”

“He knows Tim and I dated! One of our dates was to a gala he hosted, Jason.”

Jason shrugged. The waiting room in the hospital consisted of a bench and two metal chairs. He was on the bench while Cass and Steph took up residence on the chairs. He attempted to not be nervous, but he was horrible at faking that sh*t without a helmet on his face.

“Tim was very close to Bruce before?” asked Cass.

Stephanie confirmed, “Definitely. Bruce has those orphan tendencies, you know. He must’ve noticed that Tim’s parents weren’t the best and tried to parent him.”

“It didn’t go well,” muttered Jason.

“Whaddya mean?”

Jason raised a brow. “The dude was just saying to me the other day that he wanted to not be involved with B anymore.”

“Oh. I guess B can be a little demanding and controlling. I thrive with the attention, but Tim wasn’t the biggest fan, I guess.”

Cass then asked, “Why is Tim working as a personal assistant?”

“He has to work for 2 years in a business position, and yes, being an assistant counts. Especially because it’s Bruce Wayne. Or he had to get a degree in business. He could get a degree, I suppose, but I don’t think he wanted to. He never wanted to inherit DI.”

“So why is he?” asked Jason.

“I… I don’t know. I’ll ask him when I’m not dressed up in purple.”

“Ask him out on a date,” prodded Cass.

Steph blushed. She waved her hands in the air. “No. I heard Bernard was making moves, so I have to let it fizzle out before I swoop in. Or maybe I’m over it? I dunno. He was sweet. But so is Bernard. He and Tim together were adorable.”

“Bernard?”

“Okay, so, Tim dated me first, alright. We were friends since, like, forever and eventually I just asked him out during one of our study sessions. He was helping me with my grades, you know, because trying to take down my dad took a lot of my free time. He accepted, but seemed really hesitant about it. A month later, we ended things because it seemed really awkward and Tim always apologized for everything. We decided to stay friends.”

Jason groaned. “Boring. I was hoping for some dramatics, some hostage situations, some truth serum—”

Stephanie cut Jason off. “Dude, that is literally our daily lives. Dating Tim was a normal thing. It was not something eccentric.”

“Whateves.”

“Well, anyways, he started to date Bernard later in the year. They were offendingly sweet, but things were too hectic in Tim’s life, so he broke it off softly.”

“Hectic?”

“I don’t know. I was a bit… back then it was a little blurry. B had, you know, died, and I didn’t really care about much else.”

“Yeah. I get it,” muttered Jason.

Silence reigned until a doctor appeared inside the small tent.

The doctor explained, “The patient will be fine. He’s stable. Knock to the head and all that means he’ll need to be cautious. We packed him some pills. His left tibia was just a fracture. It’s set and in a brace. His bruises will look bad but they’re not serious.”

The doctor pulled out a bag with prescription bottles in it that definitely weren’t legal.

They continued, “The papers say it, but one pill every 6 hours no matter what for at least 2 weeks. After, a little less frequent. His concussion will need to be looked after. There’s a list of questions to ask him every 4 hours for at least 5 days.”

“A concussion, bruising, and a broken tibia is the list of injuries, then,” concluded Jason.

The doctor gave a stout nod as Jason took the bag. “We haven’t seen the boy in here for a few months. I was worried he died in some filthy alley.”

“W–what?” Stephanie looked alert. “You’ve seen him before?”

“Well, yes. He was a frequent flier when he was younger. Would lie, you see, about his injuries. I knew, of course, what it was from. Abuse isn’t hard to notice when you’re a frequent patient.” The doctor hummed. “Make sure he has someone to look after him.” They filtered away as if there wasn’t huge information dropped.

Cass narrowed her eyes, her expression serious. She said promptly, “We must take him home.”

“His house is empty, Cass, I don’t want to just drop him—”

“Home.”

“Oh, you mean our home.” Stephanie nodded. She stood up with impatience and nervousness. “Yeah. Good idea.” To herself, she murmured, “Okay. We got this.”

Tim was rolled out on a wonky wheelchair. Jason tried not to cringe while Steph maneuvered him into the Batmobile. Tim was clearly high and suffering from his concussion, so he didn’t seem to mind, but Jason did. Once Steph and Tim were set in the backseat, Cass took the wheel and Jason got into the passenger’s seat.

They arrived at the manor. They tried to be sneaky as they carried a mumbling Tim to a guest bedroom. Jason was mostly thankful that Bruce hadn’t called them yet and that Tim was too out of it to notice that they weren't in a garage but the Batcave.

They got Tim propped up in a room when Alfred stood at the door. The trio eeped while Tim fiddled with his hands.

Alfred asked, clearly concerned, “What happened to Timothy?”

“Oh, well, you know,” prattled Stephanie. Her eyes and stance were guilty.

“It wasn’t me!” announced Jason. He was not going to take the fall for this.

Cassandra answered bluntly, “Steph hit Tim with the Batmobile when we were trying to find his abductee.”

Alfred’s silence was terrifying. His mouth was agape. He looked horrified. Jason was never going to live this down and Stephanie would never forget the look on Alfred’s face. Alfred coughed as Tim drooled on his pillow.

“What are the injuries?” he asked.

“Concussion, contusions, fractured tibia,” answered Jason. He was quite proud about knowing that. He was great at this.

“Alright.” Alfred gave a nod. “I’ll watch over him. You all should continue on with your days.”

They followed his orders and disappeared. No one argued with Alfred unless they were dumb.

Jason halted at the sound of his cell phone. Steph and Cass looked at him with curious eyes. Cass diverted her attention back to the road as she drove to Crime Alley so that Jason could get his motorcycle. Steph, however, watched as Jason pulled up his phone to see it was Bruce calling.

“Oh sh*t,” she whispered.

Jason nervously picked up the phone. “Hey, B. How’s, uhm, Washington? Rainy? Beautiful?”

Bruce waited for a moment, then inquired, “Why did O send me security camera footage of Tim getting run over?”

Jason gulped, turned the phone on speaker, and passed it to Stephanie.

The blonde squeaked, but ended up answering, “Okay, so, it looks bad, I know. I was there, after all—”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Stephanie blew a raspberry. “A little hit won’t end him. Agent A’s watching over him now. Only one broken bone, you know. It’s not that bad.”

“...”

“Okay, so, it’s a little bad. He’s fine. A concussion, some bruising, and a broken tibia won’t stop him from working. When you get back, it’ll be like nothing happened.”

Cass parked the car since they arrived in the alley where Jason stashed his motorcycle.

Bruce said, “I already have a flight in an hour. Signal and Robin are due for patrol, so cancel it. Everyone goes to the Manor, is that clear? We are a normal family. We will eat dinner together, then some of us will patrol tonight. We’ll return at a safe hour and continue our days as civilians, kapeesh?”

“We gotta act normal around civilian-Tim, then,” sighed Jason.

“Yes.”

Stephanie said, “Just so you know, I was really weird when Tim and I were together. He’s a bit of an oblivious fella. If he’s high on pain meds, I don’t think he’ll notice anything wrong.”

“Be normal,” was Bruce’s clip response before he hung up.

Stephanie handed Jason his phone back. He swiped it away with a, “Thanks for making him mad.”

“He’s not mad. Concerned, is all,” said Cass.

Jason shuffled out of the Batmobile. He pointed as he said, “Just so you know, this was your fault. I’m not taking the blame for this.” They drove off without a word. Jason reigned in a sigh as he revved his motorcycle.

He was just down the block when he heard a strange noise. He slowed down to see if someone needed help, but instead was attacked. He fought against the being that was punching him left and right, hitting all the spots that would be sore for days.

Eventually, the attacker demanded, “What did you do with Tim?”

Jason tried to sound gruff, as he was Red Hood at the moment, “Who’s that?” It didn’t work.

“Timothy f*cking Drake. Where did you take him?”

“Don’t think I know who—”

“I saw that blondie hit him with the car. Where the bloody hell is he?”

Jason blinked. “Prove you don’t mean him harm.”

The attacker backed off. She pulled out her phone, scrolled a bit, then turned the screen to him. On the screen was the attacker and Tim smiling while they ate snow cones.

“Here. We’re friends. I surprised him, but people took it the wrong way. He was walking out to stop anyone from trying to rescue him from my clutches, but instead the blonde didn’t stop the car.”

Jason was not going to let Steph hear the end of this. “You took Tim, why?”

“I was in town. I haven’t seen him for a few months. We were going to hang out, but he said WE was keeping him busy until tonight. I wanted to hang out in the present, not later.”

“So you abducted him in hopes of hanging out peacefully.”

Jason would never admit it, but he understood the sentiment. He was impatient too. Plus people like Tim gave off the serious vibe. He would likely not play hooky. Therefore, he needed friends that would push him in the right direction.

“I didn’t realize it was a big deal to prank a friend. Is Gotham okay? Like, is anyone that lives here sane?”

“No,” he answered shortly. Jason eyed the unknown woman for a moment longer. Then he said, “Tim’s at Wayne Manor. Alfred’s looking after him.”

“Good. See ya, Todd.”

“You mean ‘Hood’ right?”

“Did I?” she asked before disappearing.

Jason tried not to falter as he rode around Crime Alley. All he could mutter was, “Well, sh*t.” He changed his course back to the manor.

He arrived just in time to see the woman looking completely different. She had changed out of her body armor. She was now in a blouse, dress pants, and sandals. She waved at Jason as if it was normal, then knocked on the door. Jason didn’t even care as he slid off his helmet and stood next to her as they waited for someone to answer the door.

It was Damian. He eyed them with stress in his shoulders. “Yes?”

“Hey, brat, it’s family dinner time soon,” said Jason. Damian sighed as he moved to the side. Jason walked straight past while Damian paused when he saw the unknown woman.

The woman said, “I’m here for Tim.” Damian didn’t care. He shut the door after they were inside. She looked around at the large place. “Not bad.”

Jason was shocked that she didn’t sound sarcastic about it. She almost sounded like she couldn’t care less that she was in a billionaire's household. She simply peeked around and waited.

Damian said, “Drake is currently asleep. Alfred instructed to not wake him for another hour.”

“I’d like to sit with him,” said the woman. Damian led her away. They were little weirdos, almost robotic.

Jason set down his helmet. He went to get a snack, but heard a shrill yell. He turned to see Duke holding his helmet. “Dude, B said to be civil. You can’t lay it around.”

“Fine.” Jason took the helmet, placing it against his side and elbow. Duke waved at him as he left. Jason went to the cave. There, he found Cass and Steph washing the Batmobile. He commented, “Any blood?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” snapped Stephanie. The sponge in her hand squished loudly.

Cass answered, “Just a little. No dents, though.”

“I don’t think Superman could destroy that thing,” he said casually as he plopped down his helmet. “What’s for dinner?”

“Dunno. Maybe pasta?”

“I’m craving BLTs,” said Steph.

They made their way to the dining table. Dinner wouldn’t be for a few more hours, but it was one of the spaces that hosted enough seats that they didn’t need to worry about room. Plus, the table was easier to replace than the furniture in the other rooms.

Dick was building a house out of dominos. Jason didn’t question it. He sat down and started to build his own tower. Cassandra and Stephanie followed suit. Duke walked in. He did as they did. Damian faltered for a moment, but joined in as well. Alfred didn’t even flinch at the loud noise when the fight to demolish each other’s domino houses began.

—

Prudence Woods was not a very caring or loving person. She was loyal and a bit of a bastard, yes, but she did not do well with showing affection. Tim understood that about her. They were able to work around each other’s weird habits and figure out a solid foundation for friendship.

Seeing Tim resting peacefully was concerning. Pru was used to seeing him stressed out, even if it was about something mundane. It reminded her of Tim on the surgery table before Ra’s placed him next to the Lazarus Pit. She bit down her bile.

Tim and Pru lived in their own little world. It was quiet and tranquil. Those moments were rare. Mostly because they were freaks of nature. They didn’t like not being able to have something to focus on.

The peacefulness ended when Pru whispered, “Lex Luthor bought Drake Industries.”

Tim awoke with a gasp. His eyes were panicked until he landed his gaze on the person next to him.

“Never do that again. I have recurring night terrors of Luthor taking over DI. He won’t stop emailing, texting, and calling me, Pru. I’m seriously about to threaten him with bodily harm if he doesn’t stop.”

Prudence frowned. She didn’t realize it had gotten that bad. She would probably check with some contacts to see what the buzz was about. She reached out her hand, only for it to be swatted away from a disgruntled Timmy.

She greeted simply, “Hey, snots.” Tim brushed his face with his sleeve with a frown. Drool and snot were wiped away. “Do they know yet?”

“No.”

“Kay. Just making sure. What’s our cover story?”

Tim narrowed his eyes slightly. “You can do it on your own. I can’t think straight.”

“Oh, honey, you’re never straight.” Pru grinned when Tim snorted. “Okay, okay. I think I can handle it. If they figure out who I am, I was instructed to kill you because of your closeness with Wayne, but we ended up becoming friends instead.”

“Kay.”

“You’re so weird.” Pru crossed her arms. “I wore a blouse to look dainty, but I think Todd already saw through my disguise. He knows.”

Tim combed his hair with his fingers. “He’s really keen.” He gave Prudence a look up and down. “You look nice, but you can borrow some of my clothes if you want. I’m sure you’re uncomfortable. In the closet—” He cut himself off, upon realizing he wasn’t in his room. “Is this—”

“Wayne Manor? Yes. Wayne is already halfway home, so prepare yourself. It seems you’re going to be taken care of by the Wayne's.”

“I can— I can take care of myself.”

“I asked the doctor about your condition. You’re not to be trusted alone. I could take care of you, but I don’t think they’ll trust me. After a few days I can take the reins. Until then, keep it together. You have a lot of secrets, Tim, and you’ve worked hard for them to not get out.”

“I know.” He smiled up at her. Pru hated it. How dare this man trust her. “With you there, I’ll be fine. You always have my back.”

Pru, not used to emotions, replied, “Get some rest.” He closed his eyes and she waited.

Prudence made her first official appearance as she helped Tim get to his seat. Bruce cringed badly enough that everyone could tell except for Tim, who didn’t seem to understand what was happening. Pru huffed as Tim finally sat down correctly. She followed suit, forcing herself to not grab the nearest weapon and bash a skull in.

Alfred presented a glorious dinner. They served up their plates without any words. Pru hated the thick tension in the air, but it was nothing compared to working in the cradle.

Alfred commented, “It is lovely to meet you, my dear.”

Prudence gave a picture-perfect smile. “I’ve heard so much about you, sir. It’s truly an honor.”

Pru liked Alfred. Tim always said that the old man was a person she would want to get along with. He would tell stories as they sat around a fire about how nice Alfred was. Even when others abandoned him, Alfred would sit down with him just to talk.

Bruce interrupted, “I haven’t heard much about you. What is your name?”

Ugh. Pru wasn’t being paid enough for this. Tim’s friendship may not be worth this much trouble.

“Ah. I’m Prudence Wood, Mr. Wayne. Lovely to meet the large Wayne family.”

Bruce asked nicely, politely, “How did you and Tim meet?”

“Ah, you know, that story is so hectic and long—”

“She tried to kill me,” hummed Tim. He didn’t seem to be thinking straight at all.

The table froze. Pru raised her brow at Tim as she remembered how many weapons she had hidden on her person. Tim didn’t notice, too drugged and injured to care.

“I’m sorry, I thought he said…” Duke stopped himself when the woman turned to him.

“Those days are behind me,” she assured.

Damian, who had been scrutinizing her ever since she sat down, whispered, “You’re a part of the League.” Everyone heard it and knew what it meant.

Pru rolled her eyes as she stabbed a fork into the plate. “I deflected two years or so ago. I threaten people now, instead of killing them. It’s boring, but Tim says he’ll only be my friend if I try not to kill anyone.”

Tim, hearing his name, looked up from his plate and asked, “Did you only maim Fred and Andy?” Prudence didn’t answer him. He whined, “Pru.”

“They deserved it. They hired me to make you paranoid and leave WE. Obviously, they’re dicks.” She decided to lie. It was better for everyone to think that people wanted Tim-the-Personal-Assistant dead, rather than Tim-the-potential-League-of-Assassins-heir dead.

“You can’t kill anyone you don’t like.”

“Watch me,” she uttered. At that moment, Jason felt so understood. “Also, Damian, Talia says hello. She’s currently on the outs with Ra’s right now. He’s being an asshole, per usual, so she’s stirring sh*t up. They still haven’t recovered from that one summer, so she’s bound to accidentally dethrone Ra’s if he isn’t careful.”

“My mother is… friends with you,” stated Damian in disbelief.

“Beggars can’t be choosers. She knows I’m friends with Tim, so by extension, I would eventually be in the vicinity of her son. Also, she said I should ask Batman permission before entering Gotham, but f*ck that. I deflected a forever ago.”

Bruce blinked as his children seemed scared that Pru would attack them all. He diplomatically announced, “I’m sure there’ll be no problems. A friend of Tim’s is a friend of mine.”

She smiled sweetly. In truth, Prudence was trying to not grit her teeth. “Isn’t that nice?”

“Oh, sh*t,” whispered Dick.

“What is happening?” asked Stephanie.

Alfred cut through the tense air with a butter knife. “Timothy, how are you feeling?”

All eyes went to Tim, who was slowly looking up from his plate to his spoon, then to his hand and arm. Tim’s eyes eventually landed on Alfred. He gave a lopsided grin, then said, “The food is good.”

“Ah. Thank you. How are you, though?”

Tim blinked at Alfred for a few moments. Everyone waited with bated breath. “I’m fine… Are you okay?”

“I’m dandy.”

Pru snorted. Tim slowly turned to her. She simply shook her head and kept eating. The dinner continued with awkwardness, but everyone was on their best behavior. It ended and Pru helped Tim get back to bed. When night fell, she pretended to not care that they were all turning in early and disappearing.

She woke Tim up at 2:30 A.M. and asked him the series of questions provided by the doctor. Concussions were something she normally brushed off, but she wasn’t going to let something happen to Tim on her watch.

She was surprised when Alfred entered. He sat on the other side of Tim’s bed as he started to doze off again. Prudence didn’t want to seem like she cared about people. She thought about leaving. About pretending that she didn’t have a single bone in her body that felt emotion.

Alfred said with such a genuine voice, “Thank you for protecting him, Prudence.”

Just like that, she couldn’t leave. She couldn’t pretend to hate them. She wasn’t a fan of Batman, but she liked at least one Gotham vigilante. Her relationship with Tim was give and take. Yet, they stopped counting who had how many favors they had on the other months ago. That relationship became real.

Pru looked down to Tim, his eyes shut and body limp. He was peaceful. Yet, she had to remind herself that he wasn’t dead. He was just sleeping. He wasn’t Z or Owens or having surgery performed on him. He was alive and he had survived a lot worse injuries than the ones he currently had.

Chapter 6 Chapter Text

Bruce was great at knowing what his children needed. He knew how to provide food, clothing, a place to stay, and so much more.

However, Bruce had his downfalls. Bruce failed at communicating. It was something that was acknowledged in the walls of Wayne Manor. Jason was the one who brought it up first, then Stephanie and Dick agreed, causing even Damian to announce that his father did have trouble with certain aspects of life.

Bruce couldn’t argue against his children. If all of them could point out that communication was a thing he was horrible at, then it must be true. After all, his children rarely agreed on such matters.

Now, Bruce couldn’t do much with this new knowledge. He didn’t know what he could do with it. He was still himself, therefore even when he tried to show his love for his children, they freaked out.

Bruce once said that he loved them at the dinner table. Not a moment later, Jason had a knife to Bruce’s throat and demanded to know how a clone or shapeshifter or something managed to replace his father. Once everyone had calmed, Bruce knew that he couldn’t be very vocal about his feelings.

Bruce decided to show his love for his children by leaving them gifts in their rooms. It seemed like a good plan at the time, but even Alfred wasn’t amused by the time all of the children (teens and adults) were done fighting over who had the best thing. Bruce watched from the stairs above while Cass flung over a table to defend herself from an onslaught of Nerf gun bullets that Damian was operating while Jason and Stephanie brawled on the floor, biting at one another when their fists and kicks didn’t do enough.

When Duke came into the household, Bruce knew that he could test out how to be a good father with him. The boy didn’t know what to expect from him, therefore Bruce could tell him his emotions. It was a mistake.

It made Duke ask his new siblings how to make Bruce feel better. Bruce was forcibly benched until Alfred determined that he had no fever or illness. Apparently, when Bruce tried to tell Duke that he would always be there, it made Duke freak out because he was warned by everyone that Bruce was not very clear with his love and affection, meaning that if Bruce was saying sentimental things, then Bruce must have been sicker than a dog.

Bruce gave up on trying to communicate with his children with words, gifts, and everything else. His children knew that he loved them. They were very clear about that. When he tried to change, they were freaked out. They were too used to him being himself. Trying to change how he reacted made them nervous.

It made Bruce wonder if perhaps not everyone knew that he loved them. His mind wandered to a certain child. Timothy Drake was someone that pulled Bruce from a dark space, who lectured Bruce on safety, and made life worth living. Tim also quit being a vigilante because of unknown reasons.

Did Tim know that Bruce loved him?

Bruce wasn’t sure. He didn’t talk much those few years that Tim was in his care. Not even Stephanie was present for most of it. Dick came back monthly during that time as well, but he was still grieving Jason while taking care of his own territory. They got along well enough, and Dick taught Tim many things, but were they close? Alfred was nice to Tim, Bruce knew. Did Tim know how much Bruce adored him like a son?

Bruce wasn’t good about respecting boundaries. That was something that all of his children agreed on vehemently. So, when he did a deep dive into Timothy Drake’s civilian life, he found out a lot about the boy.

Tim attempted to go to college but dropped out in the first week. He recently started to reconnect with an old friend, Bernard Dowd. Tim was abducted monthly, if not weekly. Bruce already knew that, but seeing the statistics was a bit terrifying. Tim frequently texted with a “Prudence Woods.” Tim became friends with Tam Fox, who worked at WE. Bruce felt a little bad about that one. He knew that Tam was transferring to a different city within a week or so.

All in all, though, it appeared that Tim had a normal life. Aside from his stint as Red Robin, Tim had adjusted to civilian life. It was no small feat. Transferring to being a civilian took a lot of work. Putting on a cape took a lot of courage. Placing the cape down took a lot of effort, maybe even more so than putting it on.

Bruce decided that Tim must be happy. He even worked at WE. They didn’t see each other often. Every time Bruce tried to pry into Tim’s personal life, Tim appeared to be confused and even defensive. Bruce was trying to be better, so he let Tim keep his privacy. Well, not anymore, but before he did.

Bruce was pleased. Tim deserved a nice life.

Over the following months, Bruce discovered something bizarre. Even though Tim gave up the cape, it appeared not everyone let him live normally. Mainly, Ra’s al Ghul didn’t want to see him go.

Bruce contacted Talia. They regularly spoke about Damian, so getting a hold of her wasn’t hard. The talk was going nicely when he asked what her father’s interest in Timothy Drake was. She instantly instructed him to not mess with any of it, then hung up the phone. It was peculiar. It was strange. It was dangerous. Ra’s al Ghul didn’t contact people for no reason.

Bruce started to keep more tabs on Tim after that. He showed up to work more, talked about his new assistant at home, and watched as Stephanie smiled a little at his story of Tim beating up a vending machine. Sometimes, Bruce forgot that they attempted to date. Oh, well.

Bruce decided that enough progress had been made by then. It was time to start the reintroductions. Bruce didn’t want to say that he had a plan, but he did. He would make his children adopt Tim into their pack, and then Tim would reveal that he was the third Robin. It would be glorious. All of his children would be under the same roof.

Admittedly, locking Tim inside a room and an elevator with Jason and Damian wasn’t his best plan. In Bruce’s defense, he knew that those relationships needed the most work. Mainly, Tim had almost died by both of their hands. Bruce assumed that talking to one another would work things out.

It did not work at all.

It made Tim hate him more. It even made Jason and Damian ask why they were sidelined. Bruce couldn’t give a good enough excuse, not without outing Tim. He went home, only to be lectured by Alfred about what was healthy and what wasn’t. It took him nearly a week to realize that Alfred was also purposely making the dishes that Bruce disliked but his children loved.

The next plan fell into his lap.

Tim had been abducted, which meant that Bruce could save the day. He was in the building when he heard a woman say, “Why is it that we’re surrounded by asshole men?” Bruce ran and kicked down the door. He let the woman escape while he tried to tell Tim how much he was loved and needed.

It backfired. Bruce was beginning to suspect that he wasn’t great at making plans. At least, not ones where he had to lay down his emotions.

Then it was as if he was given a new change. Bruce didn’t even have to rearrange anything. It was the perfect opportunity. Tim was injured, he had no one to watch over him, and he was already in Wayne Manor. The entire flight over to Gotham felt like it took eternity, but Bruce was able to fill his mind with plans.

Dinner was a surprising event. For one, Bruce finally met Prudence Woods in person, only for her to be outed as a member of the League of Assassins. An ex-member, a deflect, but still. She had murdered people. Perhaps that’s what made Bruce pause. His son, Tim, befriended an assassin who tried to kill him. Surely that spoke for how much Tim yearned for companionship.

Bruce really screwed up, didn’t he?

Then he realized that the friendship was true. Prudence wasn’t just there because Tim had no one else to turn to. He was loved by Pru. Bruce wondered what they had gone through. It wasn’t hard to connect the pieces. Pru and Tim met while he was lost in the timestream.

It made sense why Ra’s al Ghul was invested in Tim, then. The never-dying bastard must have helped Tim somehow find Bruce. His breathing sped up as he walked through the manor. Bruce didn’t want Tim to sacrifice his life for him. Now Ra’s wanted more of Tim’s skill set while Tim wanted to be normal.

Bruce sat down in his office. He wasn’t prepared for this. His plan consisted of playing games and laughing with all of his children while Tim was recovering from his injuries. He was not mentally prepared to learn that the League of Assassins was where Tim had turned to.

Tim didn’t end up staying at Wayne Manor very long. A week. Bruce had one week to show that he loved his estranged son. He could do it. Tim was still fairly loopy because of his medication, but he was growing used to it. Everything would be fine.

On the second night that Tim stayed in the manor, Bruce decided to host a game night.

His excuse to his children was that family game nights were normal, so in front of Tim the civilian, they needed to appear normal. Steph was still adamant that they could do weird sh*t and Tim wouldn’t mind. Bruce knew that Tim wouldn’t mind either, but the whole point of the game night was for bonding.

It ended up being quite fun. Tim sat sandwiched between Prudence and Stephanie. Bruce was pleased with himself. The entire family had sat down, including Alfred. In order for them all to play, Bruce decided that they would play Zilch. It was a dice game that relied on chance, numbers, and knowing when to stop rolling on your turn.

Bruce kept score as everyone rolled the dice on their turn. It took a long time for all of them to even get on the board. Jason chucked the dice when it had been nearly an hour and he still wasn’t able to roll normally. Cass, meanwhile, was at 5,350 points, ahead of the pack by quite a bit.

Bruce wanted to keep going until someone reached 10,000 points but he settled for 8,000 when Duke made it to 1,300 points and declared himself the winner because most others were stuck at 650 points, which was the minimum one needed to have in one turn to get on the board.

The third day Tim was at the manor, Bruce decided that a family craft event was perfect. Damian, Duke, and Stephanie were tired from patrol the night before. So was Bruce, but this would be worth it. Alfred took out the craft bins and arranged them across the dining table.

Bruce glued fuzzy pom poms to a piece of craft paper as he watched Prudence take out the iron to melt her and Tim’s plastic beads together. Damian drew Alfred the cat while Jason and Stephanie colored with markers on a shared coloring sheet. Duke cut out pieces of paper and glued it to a paper lunch bag to make a puppet. Dick painted a wooden birdhouse, though he seemed to think it was going horribly. Cass made friendship bracelets, passing one to Tim and one to Steph. Bruce wondered if Cass knew about Tim’s past identity.

The fourth night, Bruce hosted karaoke.

He saw Duke and Stephanie take out their phones and film it, but it was fine. Bruce knew that the PR department would love it. They even mentioned a few weeks ago that Brucie Wayne needed to show that he was a family man.

So, when he stepped up to the stage and did his rendition of Piano Man he made sure to smile for the cameras as off-screen his children sang along. They were all terribly off-key but he saw Tim smiling as even Pru hummed to the song.

The fifth day consisted of Tim trying to escape the manor.

Bruce knew that he was supposed to respect boundaries, but surely this was a bit much. He walked in on Tim attempting to jump out of the window while he was injured. When Bruce peeked below the sill, he saw Prudence looking up with a co*cky smile saying, “I’ll catch you, Red!” Bruce snapped the window closed.

“Tim,” he said.

Tim mimicked, “Bruce.”

Bruce breathed in quickly. “You are injured,” he exhaled.

“I’ve had worse.”

“If you wanted to leave, you could have gone out the door.”

Tim raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “You had Alfred lock all of the doors. He said he’ll give me the keys if I wanted, but by unlocking it the alarms will blare. That means, you would know when I left and attempt to stop me.”

Bruce paused. That sounded correct. Did Tim see Wayne Manor as an escape room puzzle?

“Well, I apologize for that,” Bruce told his son. “I wanted you to feel safe. No assassins can enter the manor—”

“Who said anything about assassins?” scathed Tim, the defensive liar he was.

Bruce folded his arms while Tim looked away. This was not going as planned. Not one bit.

“The League wants you, and I’ve recently discovered that Lex Luthor is trying to take over your company as well.”

“Luthor is a bitch baby that wants Kryptonite that my parents discovered. He doesn't actually want Drake Industries,” argued Tim.

Bruce tilted his head in thought. “That’s why you’re not willing to merge with Wayne Enterprises. You don’t want anyone to have Kryptonite.”

Tim looked small as he sat on the bed. He still had noticeable bruises and his brace made him look frail. His eyes longed at the window, likely wanting comfort from Pru. Bruce felt horrible. He was making Tim talk about his feelings. Bruce hated when he was forced to confront his own emotions. Tim was probably the same way.

“I won’t let anyone have it.” Tim was making a promise. “Luthor is at the top of the list. You, because of your paranoia, are also on the list. I’m afraid that you’ll use the Kryptonite to keep Kryptonians in line if they ever do something you don’t like.”

Bruce stilled. “Do you think that I would hang something over Clark’s head? He’s my best friend, Tim. I would never do something like that. I simply have precautions in place in the event that he is mind controlled.”

Tim fumbled with his sleeve guiltily. “I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone intentionally, B. Not the people you care about. But… but I can’t allow anyone to have the Kryptonite. I’ve already lost my friends. If I help kill him, I won’t know what to do.”

“You won’t recover,” murmured Bruce.

Young Justice was a strange group of heroes but they did good. It started with Tim, Kon, and Bart. It grew to include Cassie, then a whole other slew of teenagers that needed a place to be friends while fighting against what they perceived as wrong doers. Tim left the group the same time he quit being Robin. Kon and Bart died not long after, though they also returned.

That night, while the rest of the manor was on patrol, Bruce allowed Tim into the cave. Alfred kept Prudence busy. Bruce knew that Tim trusted her, but Bruce did not want any assassins in his cave. At least not until he had their trust.

Tim read the mission reports that his friends were in. Bruce offered commentary every now and then. By the time an hour passed, Tim looked better. Bruce was quite happy about it. He guided Tim back upstairs, though Tim wanted more time. However, Tim was still suffering from a concussion, so screen time had to be limited.

The sixth day of having Tim at the manor was very normal. Jason and Dick left on a mission, Bruce attended Zoom meetings for WE, and the rest of his children did whatever they wanted. Bruce walked in on Tim playing Crib with Stephanie and Cass while trying to teach Pru the game.

On the seventh day, Tim left for Drake Manor. Alfred dropped Pru and Tim off before coming back. Bruce was saddened to see him go. Luckily, he had great resources. He had set up cameras in the backyard a few days previous just to keep tabs on the house.

However, Barbara must have noticed because they went offline with a frowny face sent to his phone. She was quite protective of Tim. They never told her who the third Robin was, but she was smart and great at figuring things out when she wanted. Brue was also fairly certain that Barbara helped cover up Tim’s tracks whenever Jason tried to figure out his identity when he first arrived in Gotham.

Bruce tried to not look depressed as he wallowed in his office. He prepared to investigate how Lex was going to ruin Tim’s life as a way to pass the time. Then Cass strolled in. She sat right next to him, clicked off his computer, and made him face her.

“You tried,” was all she said.

Bruce nodded to himself. He did try. He tried to show Tim he loved him, tried to show him that they could be a family, tried to make it clear that no one would try to kill him.

“To us,” Cass spoke gently, confidently, “you are a great father. You took us in and showed us how to be better. You took us from where we were, gave us a chance, encouraged us, and taught us.”

“But?” he asked.

“Tim found you. He told you how to get better, told you to be better, encouraged you to not kill or cause harm. Went to the end of the world to save you from being dead.”

Bruce breathed unsteadily. He realized, “The roles were reversed.”

“Yes,” confirmed Cass. She held onto Bruce’s hands strongly. “Little brother is unused to you being his father. You were a mentor, never family. You didn’t want a child when he came into your life. Grief is… is strange. Tim saw that you needed help. He became what you needed. Once he was not needed…”

“He drifted.”

Cass bit her lip with uncertainty. “Tim is hurt. He won’t say from what but it is more than our family. He needs help to come to terms with… things.”

Bruce thought back to the League of Assassins. Thought back to Tim’s tired face as he gave up being Robin. Thought of Tim desperately trying to be perfect.

“Thank you, Cass.”

Cass hummed as she stood up. “Little brother will come home. With time. He must… he must decide to come to you, not the other way around.”

She left the office with silent steps.

Bruce wondered if the time had come to let go. He clicked on his computer as he mulled over Cassandra’s words. Tim hadn’t come to terms with his traumas, therefore Bruce trying to force familial bonding would not work.

That made… sense, he supposed. He needed to be patient.

Bruce was not very good at being patient. Over the next couple of weeks, he formed a plan. Lex Luthor was still sending spies to Drake Manor. Bruce hacked into Tim’s online history to see “anonymous” emails being sent to Tim nearly every day. Lex wanted Drake Industries and he was willing to threaten a 19-year-old over it again and again.

Bruce was getting frustrated with Lex. So, he called a man who knew him best.

“Whoa, Bruce, you haven’t called me in a while,” said Clark. “Is everything okay? Did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Not right now, though it has been a while. Not since the last Justice League mission,” replied Bruce. He felt bad. He had been too wrapped up in figuring out his family problems that he forgot about his friends. “I, uh, well to be honest Clark, I need your opinion.”

“My opinion?”

“You have good family bonds.”

Clark seemed hesitant as he replied, “Bruce, Kon-El doesn’t speak to me. Ma and Pa won’t invite me over for supper because we don’t communicate.”

“But Jon and Lois,” intervened Bruce, “are very loved.”

Clark hummed noncommittally.

Bruce continued, “I have some problems with your local supervillain. My, uh, personal assistant owns Drake Industries. Luthor wants to buy it so much so that he’s threatening him and the people he’s closest to.”

“Timothy Drake?” confirmed Clark. “He seems like a good kid. He gets abducted way too much. You would think that he would have left Gotham by now.”

Bruce grunted.

Clark said, “Do you know why Luthor wants Drake Industries so much? I can investigate for you—”

“I know why.”

“... Alright. Then what do you want my opinion on?”

Bruce pursed his lips. This was tricky. “I don’t want to invade Tim’s privacy more than I already have. And he— he needs someone to watch over him. Luthor’s already sent some operatives to hurt him but they haven’t been successful.”

“So…?”

Bruce sighed. “You’re really going to make me use my words, aren’t you?”

Clark laughed over the line.

“Fine.” Bruce rubbed at his temple. “I need someone outside of Gotham to protect Tim. Any vigilante here will be turned away. I can’t tell you why, but it’s justified.”

“Okay. I can watch over him for a few days. Get Luthor to back off. He’ll focus on me instead of Tim.”

“Actually, I was wondering how you felt about the idea of Kon coming to Gotham.”

Clark was silent for a few moments. “Why Kon specifically?”

Bruce couldn’t tell Clark that Tim and Kon were best friends. That would reveal Tim’s identity.

Bruce explained, “Kon looks his age. He would blend in better.”

“You know that I can pick up lies.”

Bruce frowned. “Yes, I know.”

Clark sighed, almost amused, over the phone. “Alright. I can reach out to Kon for you. I can’t promise that he’ll accept.”

“Thanks, Clark.”

Bruce went to bed. Alfred practically forced him down with his stern eyebrows. He didn’t go on patrol, though his children happily reported back that morning that there was nothing much aside from weird League assassins and the odd hitman or two that were horrible at hiding amidst the civilian population.

Kon showed up in civies. He looked nervous as he was guided to a place to sit down.

Bruce said, “I need help protecting a civilian. He doesn’t trust vigilantes, so I would like you to follow him. Lex Luthor’s been sending people after him.”

“Luthor? Heck yeah I’ll help.” Kon grinned. “I love to ruin that man’s day.”

Bruce had chosen the best Young Justice team member. He patted himself on the back.

“Timothy Drake is my personal assistant. I cannot get close enough to protect him as Bruce Wayne, and all others are busy on cases and they aren’t good at hiding their identities when they’re forced to guard people from afar.”

Kon nodded.

Bruce continued, “You will not tell Tim that I asked you to watch over him, if you are caught. He must not know that we know one another. He will get… he will ask that you leave if he learns of you helping him on my orders.”

Kon shrugged. “I can protect him from afar, no problem.”

Bruce knew that was a lie. Once Kon figured out who Tim was, they would talk. They would catch up. Tim would smile at seeing a friend again. Bruce smiled as Kon left Wayne Manor.

Everything would turn out fine. It had to. Bruce couldn’t keep watching on while Ra’s messed with his son. He would have to take drastic measures if Tim didn’t realize he needed help. Mainly, he’d have to storm the Cradle and force Ra’s to stop stalking his son one way or another.

Chapter 7 Chapter Text

Timothy Drake was going to die and it was all his fault.

Kon started off his day fairly normal. He did his chores around the farm, ate breakfast with Ma and Pa, then set out in his room. He was texting Bart when his phone rang. He frowned at the screen in displeasure. Clark rarely called him. It must be a mission.

“Kon-El?” asked Clark as soon as he picked up the line. “I need a favor.”

Kon was hesitant about favors. With his friends, he’d do it without prompting. Clark always wanted something, though. Either he wanted Kon to leave for a few days so he could talk to Ma and Pa alone, or he wanted Kon to get checked over by a doctor, or willingly let them take his DNA for obscure projects.

“What’s the favor?” he asked.

“I’ve been looking into Lex Luthor recently.”

Kon scoffed. “When aren’t you looking into Lex?”

Clark huffed over the phone. “He’s shown some interest in Drake Industries, particularly something they have in their vault. Luthor’s been trying to get a meeting with DI’s heir, Timothy Drake. I guess the kid finally caved in. He’s going to be meeting with Luthor tomorrow morning.”

“And this matters to me because…?”

“Because,” hissed Clark, “Batman, his civilian persona, has interacted with the Drake heir. He says that the kid won’t cough up the company.”

"So the Drake heir is possibly going to get killed by Lex.”

“Yes.” Clark was silent for a moment. “Look, Batman requested you specifically. This could be a chance for metas to be more welcome in Gotham.”

“So I have to protect some rich boy who Batman likes.”

“... Yes.”

Kon hung up.

He hated this. Hated when he was ordered around like some sort of machine. He texted Bart, saying that he wouldn’t be able to go hang out today because of a mission. He got dressed in civilian clothing, seeing as Gotham wouldn’t take kindly to heroes parading around. Then, Kon packed a bag. He’d be out for at least today and tomorrow.

After he said goodbye to Ma and Pa, he shot up into the air. The flight was a nice way to clear his head.

Kon landed near the marina. He walked up the port as if nothing was wrong. He took out his phone and searched: Timothy Drake Kon stopped in the middle of the street. He knew that face. Maybe one of the Bats had hung out with him before? Or maybe he was always in those celebrity magazines.

Kon remembered once he saw one of the headlines. Timothy Drake was the kid that was always getting abducted. People had placed bets once when he was going to end up killed one day, or bets on when the abductions would stop. One time, Cissie mentioned it and Batman walked by with a furious aura.

Kon shook his head, instead looking up Drake Industries. It appeared to be a very well-known company. Kon didn’t know how a 19-year-old could be operating such a thing, then he saw the articles. Tim had some requirements. Apparently, he was about 9 months away from inheriting his parents company officially. And, the civilian worked under Bruce motherf*cking Wayne.

Wow. Kon supposed he should have expected that. Clark didn’t call in favors much. However, if Bruce knew the kid personally, he would likely ask someone he trusted to protect them. Kon tried to not feel like the world was on his shoulders. He couldn’t get Tim killed by accident if Batman liked the kid.

Kon went to Wayne Manor, was told what to do, and prepared to be bored for the next few days.

He hovered around the streets as he went to Drake Industries. He was constantly looking down at his phone. Gotham’s city plan was horrid. How did anyone find their way around town?

Kon was turning around a corner when he heard it. Kon paused mid-step. He listened for it again. Could it be? Kon followed the noise. Surely this was a hoax. Maybe even a test set-up by Clark himself.

But then Kon saw it.

His Robin was walking along the street with his back to him. He was slow and his gait appeared to be slightly injured. Kon saw no braces or casts, so it was likely that Robin was recovering from an injury. But why? Robin had quit being a hero, even before Kon died. It didn’t make any sense. Robin sent letters and texted, but he hadn’t mentioned getting injured.

Kon jogged up, the sound of Robin’s heartbeat drumming in his ears. His hand was on the other’s shoulder.

“Robin?” he asked gently.

Robin turned around. His eyes were wide and blue. Kon didn’t know he had blue eyes. Then, Kon noticed something else. Not the surprise on Robin’s face, but who it belonged to.

“Timothy Drake,” he heard himself murmur. Kon backed away, just a step. His supposed best friend was meeting with Lex Luthor. This couldn’t be happening.

But then Tim — Robin? — did something unexpected. He practically leaped onto Kon, wrapping him into a hug. Kon, obviously, reciprocated. He could feel Tim’s muscles relax in his grip, feel Tim’s breath on his skin. It was too surreal.

“You found me,” said Tim, voice happy once they parted. He looked up to Kon with dazzling eyes. “I was wondering when you’d get tired of only talking through a screen.”

Kon blanked for a few moments. “Are you serious? You always expected to meet again? You’re an asshole. Why didn’t you just visit the farm or the Tower?”

Tim sported that mischievous smirk of his. “I knew that eventually you’d get bored. I was hoping it wouldn’t be in the middle of the street, but this is nice too.”

Kon glanced up. Right. Gotham was weird. Plus Tim was a bit of a celebrity. He ignored the cameras going off and the bizarre looks they got.

Tim said, “I have so much to tell you.” He started to walk down the sidewalk. It was a slower pace than normal. Kon didn’t mind it. “For one, I’m still not a vigilante.”

Kon raised a brow. “Then why are you injured?”

“Car accident.” Tim answered it as if it wasn’t a big deal, so Kon hoped that it wasn’t. “I’m all good, really. I don’t even have any bruises left. And my fracture doesn’t need a brace anymore.”

“Well excuse me for not believing you.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “For another, I’ve been making it through this civilian thing pretty well. I have only had one mission since I quit a few years ago.”

Kon sobered up. He didn’t realize they’d be talking about it so bluntly. “You never gave a reason for quitting.”

Kon remembered the day clearly. Tim didn’t even show up to the tower. He sent out an email to each of the Young Justice members saying that he was retiring to be a civilian. Kon wanted to fly to him that instant, but Cassie managed to talk him down. It was odd. Tim had admitted that he was only 15-years-old. Most people didn’t give up so soon into their career.

Tim brushed over it. “Well, it’s been years since then. I’ve maintained a fairly easy life.”

Kon called him out on his bullsh*t. He saw the articles. “Your parents died, you became emancipated, and now you’re working at Wayne Enterprises in order to inherit Drake Industries in less than a year.”

Tim scratched at his wrist. Kon wondered if it was normal now, for him to show his nervous ticks. As Robin, he was always very careful with what he did and didn’t do. Perhaps being a civilian was a good idea. Tim could feel free to be normal, to express himself in all ways.

Kon added, “I don’t hate you, Rob. Timothy…?”

Tim smiled up at him. Good one, Kon. His hands extended in the air, like he was gripping onto something imaginary. “Tim is fine.”

“Okay. So. Are you going to let Cassie and Bart see you? Are you going to come to the Tower for movie nights?”

Tim shook his head as he ducked under the opening to a building. “I’m not a vigilante, Kon. I don’t think they’d just let me walk in and use the premises.”

“That’s a load of crap and you know it. Tell me what’s really going on.”

Tim caged up. He walked into the building quickly, forcing Kon to sprint to do the same. Tim glanced at him with a certain something in his eyes. Kon officially became concerned. Tim didn’t act this way unless there was a hidden thing under the surface.

Kon expected Tim to use the elevator since he was recovering from an injury, but Tim went up the stairs. Kon followed behind him a few steps. Tim didn’t glance back once. Kon was getting frustrated. Tim only pulled stunts like this if it was something bad. It only happened when he was worried that they would end up in the crossfire.

Kon checked the area. No one else was in the stairwell.

Kon demanded, “Who has you so freaked out?”

Tim stuttered in his steps, almost tripping. Kon stepped forward and offered his shoulder for Tim to stabilize on. Tim wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Kon knew he was getting closer to the truth.

“Are they threatening us, Tim? Are they coming after you? Tell me. We can work out a solution.”

Tim tugged away. His eyes were panicked, darting around for an escape route. Kon stepped back. He didn’t want to upset Tim. He wasn’t planning for a confrontation today.

Tim calmed down once he had space. Kon was thankful for that. He expected Tim to run away.

“Right now, it’s Luthor,” whispered Tim.

Kon supposed that made sense because of what Bruce said, though he noted Tim’s words. Right now. That meant there was other sh*t going on but the priority was Lex Luthor. Kon could work with that. He was good at pissing off his biological parents/genetic donors.

Tim explained, “He’s been keeping tabs on me for weeks. Recently, I saw one of his operatives at Bernard’s house. I just needed some help keeping up appearances. I asked a friend to watch over Bernard—”

“Bernard?”

Tim froze completely. He went rigid, his heart racing like something had gone horribly wrong. He looked like he was caught off-guard. After a few moments, he admitted, “My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend.” Kon licked his lips. He didn’t realize that Tim liked more than just girls. Cassie was out, talking about how much she wanted to kiss this girl but didn’t want to mess it up. Even Bart had mentioned some bizarre flings in his past. Kon wasn’t sure how he felt, but either way he was happy for Tim. “Is he good?”

Tim’s worried expression broke out into a smile. Kon cheered himself on internally. He said the right thing. Good. He wasn’t great at things like this. Great.

“Yeah,” whispered Tim, his eyes clear. “It’s nice.”

“Alright.” Kon patted Tim on the back. It was slightly awkward, but it didn’t feel horrible. They began to walk up the stairs again. “What does Luthor want?”

“The past few weeks have been recon. He’s been gathering intel; close up and personal. Earlier this week, I got a letter in the mail from him. It was threatening. Said I needed to either sell my company to him, or merge them together. It’s dumb either way, because I can't do a thing for almost a year.”

“Luthor wouldn’t be threatening you unless he knew there was another option,” argued Kon.

Tim eyed him carefully. “You’re getting better at detective work,” he offered with the hint of a grin. Kon felt himself preen. He always liked compliments like that. Tim continued, “I could technically ask the board to vote. If they decide that merging or selling the company is the best option, then they can do so.”

“What would you need to do in order to make the board vote?”

Tim said after a beat, “I’d have no rights after the vote. Once they make a decision, it’s final. As of now, I still have some control over DI. They can’t sell it or merge it without my approval since I’m the heir. However, if I ask them to vote on what the best option is, I give them the right to go with their decision. Therefore, if they choose to sell the company, I can’t step in and disapprove of it.”

“Luthor knows this. He wants you to give up your right. He might have people on the board that will vote in his favor.”

Tim hummed in agreement. “It’s the likeliest scenario. I could technically bribe them back, but I wouldn't want any of them after that. I need a board that I can trust.”

They reached the top door in the stairwell. Kon stood there awkwardly while Tim looked out the window pane of the door.

“Have you already decided what you’re going to do?”

Tim glanced up. Kon had to take a breath. He looked chaotic. It meant great things were to come because Tim had a plan. Tim opened up the door, causing Kon to follow.

As soon as Tim entered, they were flanked with business professionals. They talked to Tim in hushed whispers. Kon followed dutifully. He was thankful he wore his nice coat that day. He wasn't sure how they’d react if he showed up in a Wonder Girl sweatshirt. Then, Kon noticed that Tim was in a suit. A nice one at that.

Huh. That’s peculiar.

Tim waved off the rest of the group when he reached a door. Kon noticed that it appeared to be a conference room. Kon gulped as he peered through the glass. Everyone in there was at least 3 times their age. Tim took a breath. He looked confident but Kon could hear his racing heartbeat.

Then, he heard Tim say under his breath, “Go along with what I say.” Kon kept his face stoney. He wouldn’t screw this up. Tim opened the door. The conference room, which was once full of chatter, went silent. Kon wanted to flinch from all of the disgruntled stares they received.

Tim went to the end of the table. Kon stood behind him just a foot or two off on his right. Tim sucked in a silent breath. Kon prepared to grab Tim and fly out if needed.

“Who’s the meathead?” questioned one of the people.

“Bodyguard,” Tim answered instantly, not batting an eye. He gave Kon a small smile before turning to the front. Kon forced himself to remain calm. This was a bizarre situation but he’d be fine.

“It’s wonderful to see you all,” greeted Tim, his voice extra loud and posh-sounding. “I haven't been in a board meeting since I was a kid. My father would stand here for a few minutes before sitting down. These meetings would last for hours. I’d have to wait outside, bored to death as to why he would bring me along. I didn’t realize for quite a few years that he was teaching me to pay attention.”

One of the older men down the line said, “Mr. Drake, we didn’t gather here for you to reminisce about when your parents were alive.”

Kon felt the breath leave his lungs. These people really didn’t realize what they were met with today. Anyway, who brought up a person’s dead parents? Kon still didn’t like talking about his own death. There’s no way that these types of conversations were normal.

Tim must have grinned with too much teeth, as Kon watched everyone straighten up in their seats.

Tim spoke, “I really wanted to hold off on this part, Mr. Maloni. See, I know my father and mother weren’t the best at business matters. My mother loved exploring more than anything, though she was great at blackmail. My father, on the other hand, was horrible at everything except for sucking up to people. Together, they were able to keep this board aligned with their wants and ideas.”

He straightened himself out. Tim was about to make a move, Kon knew.

“It has become apparent to me that some of you have been bribed by Lex Luthor. He’s been threatening the people I’m close to, as well as my own life. I would normally not care about it. Luthor is weak when it comes to killing. He’d rather extort and blackmail people. Killing and cleaning up bodies takes more effort and time, you see.”

Kon heard 4 out of the 20 heartbeats in the room pick up. He would bet that those people were the ones being bribed.

“I know that some of you were easily paid off, while others were threatened.” Tim waved his arm slightly. “I don’t care about any of that, to be honest. I already knew that some of you were dirty while others of you had too many misdeeds in your past.”

Kon heard more heartbeats stutter. Jeez, how many people did Lex threaten?

“I’m here to offer a compromise,” he announced, clear as day. “I will sign off on a merger of the company, but it won’t be with LexCorp. This is the only offer I will give you all. If you don’t like this offer, then you’ll wait for another 9 months for me to take over as CEO. I’ll pick you off, one by one, until I have a board of people that I can trust.”

Faintly with hesitance, a woman asked, “What company would you be willing to merge with?”

Tim’s stance faltered. “Wayne Enterprises has been trying to get me to merge with them for the past year or so. If Drake Industries merges, they promise to keep all jobs and even expand positions and raises once things become official.”

Kon wondered if that was what Tim wanted. He didn’t like DI, but it was also the only thing he had left of his family. Kon wondered if Tim was hoping that they’d hold off for another 9 months. He wondered if Tim would be happier as a vigilante, or if liked being a civilian.

“Your offer is… generous,” another person on the board said. “However, some of us are happy with DI as it is.”

Tim quickly replied, “You are one of the only people in this room that have not been threatened or bribed because you openly dislike the Justice League. Luthor expects you to vote in his favor without any outside influence.”

The man’s eyes widened. “I don’t have any idea what you’re insinuating—”

Tim waved him off, dismissing him ruthlessly. The man shushed instantly.

Tim stated, “My offer will close tonight. Until we meet later at 5 P.M., you may think about what I’ve said.” He stepped away, so Kon followed.

On their way down, Tim stepped into the elevator. Kon noticed that his steps were getting worse. He likely overworked himself. Injuries were hard to recover from, at least, that’s what most people said.

“You good?” he whispered.

Tim gave a strained smile. “I’m okay.”

They stepped off the elevator. Kon wondered how he missed it the first time. They were at Drake Industries. He would have known what to expect if he paid better attention. He started to walk alongside Tim, only to receive a grateful smile.

“Thanks, clone boy,” he whispered.

Kon couldn’t help but smile widely. It had been a long time since he heard that nickname aloud. Kon had to resist from capturing Tim in a hug. This was an awesome day. He hadn’t seen Robin happy in so long. Even when Kon came back to life, Tim only stayed around for a few hours in a full-body disguise before texts were all that he knew.

Tim guided him into a restaurant. Tim talked to the host for less than 30 seconds before they were being led to what appeared to be a VIP section. Instantly, they were sat down at a large but private table for two. Kon wondered if this was normal for Tim. He watched as Tim ordered for them both, sending the waiter away with a thank you.

Kon managed to ask, “What are we doing here?”

Tim looked up from his iced lemon-water glass. After he took a sip, he said, “Paparazzi will see this. Meaning, Luthor will see this. Once Luthor sees this, he’ll realize that I’m not going to stand down. You’re my friend, Kon. I’m not letting him get it.”

Kon felt his heart go pitter-patter anxiously. “You have it, then.” Tim gave a simple nod as he set down his glass. “And Luthor knows you have it. He won’t let you go that easily, Tim. He’s a ruthless man. He purposely gets kidnapped by his own creations to make Superman rescue him.”

“He can’t hurt me, Kon. If I die, then Luthor gets nothing. It’s a clause in the Will my parents left and the contract with DI. If I die before I can inherit Drake Industries or approve in selling or merging it, then everything goes to certain charities.”

“So that’s why he’s been threatening you,” concluded Kon.

Tim gave a slight tilt to his chin in confirmation. “It’s fine, though. I have Pru watching over Bernard. She’s tough enough to get through this with no problems. Luthor can’t send anyone big without it raising alarms, so she'll be all good.”

“Do you trust this Pru that much?”

Tim paused, his lips in a thin line. “She helped me on that mission I mentioned earlier.” The last mission Tim went on. One that Kon had no idea happened until an hour ago. “Pru’s good. She saved me. I trust her just as much as I trust you.”

Kon buried that jealousy inside of him. He hated that he had no idea who this woman was. Who this person that Tim trusted with his life. He pushed through it. Tim wasn’t being rude. He was simply stating a fact so that Kon felt at ease.

“Did you tell Batman about your situation?” Or did Bruce figure it out on his own? Kon had no idea which was better. Tim was a private person. He didn’t like to rely on adults.

Tim’s nose scrunched up at the thought. “I tried to hide it from him, but he must have seen some of the tails on me. I’m betting that you didn’t just happen to want to visit Gotham out of the blue?” Kon stayed quiet. “Yeah. He must have figured out that Luthor was getting more dramatic with his threats.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt because you’re trying to protect me,” said Kon. He tried to keep the desperation in his voice subtle, but Tim’s eyes looked slightly glossy, so Kon knew he failed. “That’s why you’re fighting so much, right? You hated the idea of following in your parent’s footsteps. Everyone knew it. You didn’t want to be Batman and you also didn’t want to be a 9-to-5 worker either.”

Tim forcefully calmed down. Kon pretended that he didn’t see Tim pinch his underarm. Tim’s breathing slowed, as did his heartbeat. Kon hated that Tim trained his body to do stuff like that.

“I’m not going to let something like Lex Luthor grab a hold of Kryptonite. He would do horrible things with it. You’re not dying on me again, Kon. I won’t allow it.”

Kon wondered if this is what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a stubborn relationship. He needed to apologize to Ma and Pa. He reached out across the table. Tim took his arms and hands out, placing them under the table where they’d be out of Kon’s reach.

Kon opened his mouth to ask Tim to talk to him, but then he heard a faint click-clank. Kon looked out of the window to see the smallest reflection of a sparkle on a far away building. Then, he heard the squeeze of a trigger. Kon bolted across the table, slamming it down as the gunshot went off at least 350 yards away.

Kon heard the bullet hit the table. It actually went through the table and hit the floor. Thankfully, it stopped there. Kon checked over Tim, who was laid against the floor with an increased heartbeat and a smirk. Kon heard the click-clank again, so he dragged Tim away as fast as he could.

Kon managed to get around the hallway, off of the VIP area. He glanced up to the slow-going restaurant to see that everyone else had fallen under the tables while some were on the phone talking to a 911-operator. Tim slowly started to stand up, now that they weren’t near a window. Kon huffed at the action. Gothamites, he cursed.

Kon whispered to Tim, “Luthor isn’t messing around. He’ll get his hands on it no matter how much you fight against him.”

Kon looked down to Tim’s pained expression. He definitely pushed himself too hard today. Kon wasn’t worth this. Kryptonite would always be out there. Tim didn’t need to protect him with all of his might. Yet, Kon knew that Tim would never stop. Because of that, Tim would run himself ragged.

“Well,” chuckled Tim, his breath slowly returning to normal, “I guess I should hire you as a permanent bodyguard for now, huh?”

Kon felt the sigh pour out of him in relief. He didn't want to leave Tim alone. Lex was dangerous if he thought a person was simply a disposable civilian.

“I’m expensive,” he teased.

- - -
— — —
- - -

Tim looked down to his Harley Quinn bobblehead on his desk. He was still adjusting to being the Personal Assistant to Bruce Wayne. He was getting great at how the calendar operated. He was also trying to make friends.

Tam came out of nowhere. Lucius hired her for Tim; a person around his age that worked in the same building. They quickly became friends, though it seemed to only happen while at WE. Tim was fine with that. He didn’t expect to make friends while he finished his schedule for inheriting Drake Industries.

The relationship slowly morphed into a real friendship over the coming weeks and months. It truly began when they were stuck inside WE because of a villain attack. The power was out and the stairway had been blocked with chains. Tam and Tim were on the same floor, therefore they were stuck together.

They kept meeting up after that. Tam was somewhat blunt and she took things with a grain of salt. She almost reminded him of Steph, but different in the way that Tam was fine being a civilian. Stephanie would never make it as someone normal. It was a nice, comforting presence.

When Tam transferred to the New York base of Wayne Enterprises about half a year after meeting, they met up for lunch. They cooked shrimp scampi together, laughing as they watched the shrimp curl and the pasta go limp in the water.

After drinking too much white wine, they ended up on the floor of the kitchen. They were past the giggling and hysterics. They had turned serious. It was Tam’s last weekend in Gotham and she prepared to go out with a bang.

She admitted, low and soft, “I think you’re the saddest person I’ve ever met, Tim.”

Tim didn’t understand. He had friends, a job, and healthy hobbies. He didn’t fight in a suit or worry about death every day.

Tam continued, “You try really hard to be happy, don’t get me wrong, but you’re not. You hate working. At least, you hate working at Wayne Enterprises. And every time you have to interact with Mr. Wayne’s guests, you look like you’re about to implode with feelings. It can’t be healthy, Tim.”

“But I’m normal,” he said, voice full of confusion.

Tam argued, “You aren’t, in my opinion. You don’t really have faith in anything. And you… you scare me sometimes. You attacked Killer Croc when he got into WE a few weeks ago. All of us thought you were going to die. But instead you smiled as you kicked Croc until he went down so that we could all escape from the building.”

“Happenstance.”

Tam gazed wistfully at him. “You’re different, Tim. There’s no point in hiding it. You’re good at planning things, at defending people. So I think that you… you should think about what you want from life. I don’t think an office job or anything in the business world will make you happy.”

Tim couldn’t form words. Any rebuttal he had would be a lie.

Chapter 8 Chapter Text

To Bruce Wayne: Just a heads up. I hired Kon as my bodyguard. I’m going to say that you suggested him if anyone asks. Have a good day. You have a meeting at 7 P.M. that Mr. Fox wants you to attend.

From Bruce Wayne: Thank you for the heads up, Tim. Please know that I am investigating the shooting incident that happened at noon. If Luthor strikes again, I will place you into protective custody.

To Bruce Wayne: I’m in Kansas right now, so I don’t think you need to worry about me. I’ll only be returning to Gotham around 5 P.M. to talk to the board of DI.

From Bruce Wayne: I will worry about you anyways. Have a good visit. Clark has told me before that Ma makes cobbler on Thursday’s. I hope you rest well.

To Bruce Wayne: photo of a piece of peach cobbler on a plate

To Bruce Wayne: It’s very good. We may need to invest in it.

From Bruce Wayne: Martha doesn’t share family recipes unless you’re family. I created an alias where I was her long-lost brother, but she still didn’t give me any of the family secrets.

To Bruce Wayne: Maybe you lost your charm. She’s writing down the instructions for me right now.

From Bruce Wayne: :(

Kon leaned over Tim’s shoulder. Tim clicked off his phone, setting it face down on the table. Kon rolled his eyes as he leaned back into his own chair. Tim smiled slightly before glancing around the room. Pa was dutifully doing a crossword notebook one page at a time while Ma was writing down the recipe for peach cobbler.

Tim asked, “Is it true that you never gave Bruce any recipes?”

Ma looked up, a small smirk on her face. “That boy tried to watch me make it so he didn’t have to ask about it. So, I told him to marry into the family if he wanted to have the recipes. It was said in jest, but then he came forward with papers about being my brother.” She shook her head. “Ever since, I promised myself to not give him the recipe unless he asked for it.”

Tim found that humorous. Bruce would rather sneakily learn the recipe than to just ask for it. Ma was a daunting figure of kindness, but surely Bruce knew better. Ma took no sh*t from anyone, not even her own son.

“You didn’t give Batman your recipe?” questioned Kon.

Ma shrugged, her writing not halting for a single moment. “He doesn’t frighten or intimidate me, boys. He’s just a kid with deep pockets and limitless gadgets.”

Tim felt warmth in his chest at the words. Ma loved Bruce, but she saw through his exterior. In the end, Bruce was good at personas and training people, but he had horrible interpersonal skills. Or maybe he was just bad with Tim. The rest of the vigilantes seemed happy with their relationship with Bruce.

Pa mentioned, “Are you going to invite Cassie and Bart over? The whole team should be here.”

Tim glanced at Kon. He was willing to follow his lead. Tim decided to answer, “We’ll only be here for another hour or so. Then we’re retiring to Gotham for the night.”

“Oh, are we?” asked Kon.

Tim explained, “My meeting is at 6 A.M. tomorrow. I’m not going to get ready here, only for my suit and hair to get ruined from the wind.” He picked up his fork. “Plus, I have to keep up appearances. Luthor wants me scared. By hiring a bodyguard, it’s obvious that I’m afraid. Or he knows it’s you, so he’ll think the Justice League is protecting me. Either way, win-win.”

Kon gave a noncommittal hum. “Fine.”

Tim consoled, “You don’t have to follow me everywhere after the next couple of days. Luthor should calm down and I’ll be okay during the night.”

Tim decided to not mention the fact that assassins were following him around, occasionally stepping in when Tim was in public and couldn’t fight against Luthor’s people himself.

When they returned to Gotham, Tim put out the birdfeed for Seer and Prophet. As the birds swooped in, Kon gave him a strange look.

“Since when do you own birds?”

Tim shrugged. “I’ve been trying to find them a home but they keep getting returned after a day or so. I think they’re attached to me or something.” Kon trailed after him as they went upstairs.

And Tim did try. He had multiple eager, willing people take care of the birds for 32 hours max before they begged for Tim to take them back. Tim believed that the birds were instructed to annoy everyone that wasn’t him. Ra’s was an evil toddler in that way.

Tim got dressed for the meeting. He needed to change completely. His suit got slightly beat up after the attempted long-distance shot. He was about to go in front of the board of directors again. He hated having to be like his mother. She was good about controlling people. She hated to do it, but Jack didn’t have the guts for it.

Half an hour later, Tim was back in Drake Industries. Kon was just behind his right shoulder. He elected to take the elevator. He hated these tight spaces, but he overworked his leg today. He couldn’t get a set-back again. He needed to put on a brave face in front of the board tonight, and in front of Luthor tomorrow.

Tim found that the conference room was different this time. They seemed to respect him unlike this morning. He almost wondered if this was how Lex felt. The power he had over people was astronomical. Did villains like that power? Or was Tim just quirky that way?

Tim asked promptly as he stood at the end of the table, “Have you considered my offer?”

The group looked askance, none of them willing to speak. Eventually, Catherine Hail said, “An attempt on your life was made previously today. Are you sure that you want to be here, Mr. Drake?”

“I will not let Lex Luthor push me around.” Tim paused to watch their reactions. Most of them didn’t like the situation. He announced, “I see that my offer is not what you want. I shall come back here in 9 months. I hope none of you have accidents until then.”

Tim turned to leave. He felt Kon just behind him. This was good, he reminded himself. This is what he wanted, he told himself. He didn’t want to give up Drake Industries. He wanted to cherish it. It was all he had left of his parent’s legacy. If he didn’t have DI, then he was truly alone.

Then, the dominant voice of Frank Malori spoke, “You can’t leave us to Luthor. He’s an insane man, Mr. Drake. He doesn’t care what he has to do in order to get his way. You’ll be signing many of our death certificates if you step out of that door.”

Tim co*cked his head towards the table of concerned parties. “What would you have me do, then? I’m not going to sell my company, I am not willing to merge with anyone but Wayne Enterprises, and I will not allow any ridiculous attacks on my life stop me from doing what I want.”

It was silent in the room for a long while. Tim stayed still. He knew that he should have left, but seeing so many worried people caused him to think. He wouldn’t be able to sleep if he let these people die, even if he wasn’t the direct perpetrator. He already blew up so many of the League of Assassins bases. He didn't even know how many people he had killed. But right now? He could count the people in this room as victims if they died mysteriously over the next year.

One of the board members eventually hedged, “What if we change the inheritance process? The one that we created after your parents left you Drake Industries.”

Hail argued, “We created that because we can’t trust a child with our livelihood.”

“We’re trusting Mr. Drake with our lives, Catherine,” they snipped back.

Maloni eventually said, “What would we change it to? We put those rules in place for a reason. How many are we willing to bend?”

Quinn Yerns said, “I can create a draft of the new contract within an hour once I have the parameters.” She looked Tim in the eyes. “Will you be willing to look it over once we have completed it?”

Tim felt the gazes of the board on him. After a long pause, he announced, “None of you may leave Drake Industries until the meeting with Luthor has passed tomorrow. The guards will keep you safe. I will return once I am called. If the contract is something agreeable, I may sign it.”

He turned away. Tim felt Kon’s pace behind him.

He whispered, “I have no idea what happened, but this is good, right?”

Once they entered the elevator, Tim answered, “This could be very good.” He smiled toward Kon, who mirrored it back. This could be the chance to win it all. As long as Luthor didn’t kill him within the next few hours, that is.

Drake Manor was quiet.

Tim noticed that Kon was quiet too. He sat on the couch with a melancholy expression. Tim pulled his damp hair into a messy bun before he slinked down next to him. Kon tilted his head at Tim. Tim raised a brow at Kon.

“What’s up with you?” asked Tim.

Kon thinned his lips. “I just… you’re different from what I imagined. You’re really good at this whole business-thing, you live in a huge house, and you don’t seem to care about your injuries even as a civilian.”

Tim showed a lop-sided smile. “I don’t like being good at the business side of things, you know. I never wanted to inherit DI. I expected my parents to be the heads of it for a long time. This was never part of the plan. And… yeah, the manor is big, but that also means I can have a lot of people over. For movie nights, maybe, without B’s approval.”

Kon started to grin. “Yeah?”

Tim hugged one of his knees close to his chest. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “It could be fun going behind his back, too.” Tim could just imagine the crazy nights that could happen with everyone over.

“It sounds fun,” admitted Kon, “but why not come to the Tower? It’s easier for you to just hop on over than for all of us to come here.”

Tim tried to not think about any bad memories. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe. Eventually, he said, “I have an entire closet full of movie theater junk. Boxes upon boxes of candy and popcorn and everything else.”

Kon showed a small, reserved smile. “Okay, Rob, I can try to convince our friends to sneak into Gotham.”

Tim turned on the television. It was set at the white noise function. “I have more of these around the house if you want to get some sleep tonight.”

Kon shrugged it off. “I’ll hear better without them.” Tim clicked the television off. “Go ahead and get some rest. I’m the bodyguard in this situation, remember? And, if I need backup, I have Bart on speed dial.”

“Batman lives next door,” added Tim. He felt himself grinning.

Kon shooed him upstairs. “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and sleep. We’re leaving here at 5:30 A.M. God, why is Luthor such an asshole? That’s so early, man.”

Tim woke up from a call at 11 P.M. He answered it, then immediately started to get dressed. He picked out a suit that could have different shirts underneath. One blue and one lilac just to piss Lex off. He hated how uncomfortable it felt. It was too new, too unused, too hard of a fabric.

Kon was slightly dozing off in one of the guest bedrooms, but he woke up at the sound of the call. Tim pulled out some of Jack’s old clothes to put on him. Kon hated it, TIm could tell, but he needed to look presentable to a bunch of old elites.

The drive was quick. Or maybe Tim was just anxious. They entered the building quickly, Kon keeping Tim with him the whole time. The elevator felt like it took forever, though Tim knew it was simply his nerves.

He walked into the conference room. Many of the board looked tired and exhausted. Some even shed their top layers because they were too stuffy. Tim held his shoulders high while Kon was a constant presence at his side.

Tim didn’t feel sympathy for them. They were the ones that took the bribes or had the things in their past that Lex used against them. TIm knew most of it too. Affairs, illegitimate children, prostitutes, ties to criminal organizations. It’s all too easy to make people bow to your will.

Tim sat down for the first time in that conference room. Yerns presented the new document. Tim read it slowly and carefully. He mentally marked what would need to be fixed. Mostly, it was a few simple grammar errors that Luthor would tear apart and create a loophole in.

After an hour of fixing the document and creating something agreeable, Tim had to pause. This was happening. He was going to inherit Drake Industries today. He could leave Wayne Enterprises and reside over DI. it’s what he had been working towards for over a year. And yet—

Tim signed the contract.

The room breathed out in relief. Timothy Jackson Drake was the official CEO of Drake Industries.

Tim felt his breath hitch. He did it. He lived long enough to inherit DI. Would his parents be proud? He hoped so. Jack and Janet loved this company. It gave them access to funds that allowed them to travel all around the world.

Tim stood up promptly. He announced, “There are cots in some of the lounges if any of you wish to rest tonight. I will inform you all once I have met with Luthor. Know that if any of this gets out within the next few hours, I will use all of my power to destroy you.”

Tim left the conference room once again.

When they were in the elevator, Kon asked quietly, “Is this what you want?”

Tim didn’t know. He didn’t think this far ahead. He was too worried about Lex getting the Kryptonite. He didn’t think about what his next plans were. He clenched his jaw in an attempt to ground himself. Tim should have thought this through more. He wasn’t prepared to run something like DI.

Tim walked out of the building automatically. As he stood on the street, he felt the cool breeze hit his face. He didn’t know how to feel. He almost felt hollow. Was that normal? He had everything he wanted. This was his entire goal. Now that he had it, it was as if nothing mattered.

Tim looked over to Kon, whose expression was tight. Tim screwed up. He never wanted this responsibility. All he wanted was to be free of a legacy he never agreed to. Kon knew him too well. He already knew that Tim didn’t want this. He even tried to hint at it, yet Tim didn’t allow himself to wallow about it.

Tim hailed a taxi. He felt Kon step closer to him. The taxi pulled up and allowed them inside.

To Prudence: How are you holding up? Do you need reinforcements?

From Prudence: If you send in backup I’m going to leave Gotham. I hate this city. How can you stand to be here?

To Prudence: How’s Bernard? No trouble?

From Prudence: Obviously there’s tails but I’ve been keeping them at bay. I haven’t heard anything about new assassins coming into town either.

From Prudence: You better not die when you meet up with Lex Luthor. I can’t stand that bastard but I try to not kill people with his status without getting paid. If he kills you, I’ll have to kill him for friendship reasons.

To Prudence: Please don’t kill anyone unless necessary. I will text you once the meeting is over. Don’t overreact. Keep Bernard safe for me.

From Prudence: You might want to set up a date. I think he’s pining a little too hard. It’s been a week since you’ve met up in-person. He’s getting desperate.

To Prudence: I’m thinking of introducing him to Kon.

From Prudence: The clone boy / tube baby hero? That could be fun. Can I watch and eat popcorn?

To Prudence: I’ll keep you updated. Stay safe.

From Prudence: Yeah. Don’t die either you f*cker.

To Prudence: You say the nicest things.

Tim didn’t bother going back to sleep once they reached Drake Manor. He watched from his seat as Kon dozed off in the recliner next to him. Tim shifted on the couch. He changed into lounge clothes momentarily, but had his purple-accented set of clothes already preplanned.

The clock ticked on the wall. Tim wondered if he could shut his eyes and doze off. He felt tired, yet he didn’t want to sleep. They’d leave the manor in just 2 hours. He could be doing research or a different productive activity with his time. But he couldn’t force himself to stand up either.

The meeting didn’t occur at an office. Tim arrived at the coffee house with Kon beside him at 5:45 A.M> They had paid for the meeting room. Tim would bet that Lex had the room bugged already. Or at least one camera was in there, waiting for Tim to reveal a secret. As if Lex would figure him out when heroes couldn’t.

Lex Luthor was already there, eating one of the signature sandwiches and drinking some sort of coffee. Tim ordered himself an italian soda and a bagel while he let Kon pick whatever he wanted. Tim allowed himself a smile as Kon politely asked for 2 sandwiches and a latte. Tim had Kon sit beside him even though Lex glowered.

Tim knew that it wasn’t normal. “Bodyguards” weren’t supposed to just sit down next to their “clients.” Tim knew that showing Lex that he was comfortable with Kon could make Lex think of him as weak, but Tim didn’t care. He wasn’t about to eat in front of his best friend without letting him eat too. Plus, Kon was doing a lot for him. Tim didn’t deserve it. Not after he abandoned the group.

Lex set down his sandwich. Tim wondered when his order would be brought in. Hopefully they could clear things up before then. Tim decided to ignore the looks Lex and Kon were exchanging. They knew one another fairly well. Lex would have to think twice about killing off a random CEO if the Justice League was watching over them.

“Mr. Drake,” greeted Lex, “I was delighted to see that you accepted my meeting request. I have been trying to set this meeting for months, after all.” His eyes seemed to know all, but Tim knew that they didn’t. “I heard about the attempt on your life yesterday. I find it very brave that you continued to work.”

Tim replied, “I was glad to accept this meeting, Mr. Luthor. I have some wonderful news to tell you. I have thought about your offer quite a bit. As has my board of directors.”

“Oh?” Lex appeared innocent. Tim knew better. Lex knew that Tim knew better.

“Yes, well, we discussed some things. I believe that you’ve been preparing this for some time, as well.”

“Yes, ah, business deals are very important to me,” stated Lex.

His eyes lifted up just as Tim heard the click of a door. A worker brought in the food and drinks. Tim thanked her quietly. He took a sip from his italian soda and gave a nod to Kon, who happily ate breakfast. Tim didn’t bother opening his bagel. It wouldn’t turn soggy for a while.

Tim said, “It’s wonderful to see that you’re still in the game, given your age.” Tim noted that Kon almost choked on his bite. Good. Lex definitely heard the insult too. “I am pleased to announce that the board has decided—”

“I am happy to take Drake Industries off of your hands,” interrupted Lex. He had on his smarmy businessman face.

Tim blinked, wide-eyed. “Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Luthor. I didn’t realize you— I came here to announce that I am officially the CEO.”

Lex paused for just a moment. His face twitched in surprise. “Excuse me?”

Tim explained, “I guess the attempt on my life combined with the board receiving threats made them realize that I needed to speed up the process. My inheritance contract was rewritten. You, Mr. Luthor, are speaking to Drake Industries’ Chief Executive Officer.”

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say, Mr. Drake. You’ve stunned with good news, I suppose.”

Tim picked up his drink. He looked down to his watch as he stood up. “Shucks, Mr. Luthor, I have an appointment across town. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave. It was great seeing you, though. You should come to my next event.”

Kon followed his lead, picking up his own unopened sandwich and latte. They walked out of the meeting room and walked along the dark sidewalks. Tim needed to cool down after that. He glanced at Kon, who was slurping on his coffee with considering eyes.

“Spill it. Do you think it was a bad move to antagonize Luthor?”

Kon set his coffee cup lower. He sighed out, “Tim, I know you well enough to know that you thought your plan through—”

“I didn’t,” he blurted. Kon’s surprised eyes fell on him. “I didn’t think at all, Kon. I was too wrapped up in the moment. I was hyper focused on inheriting Drake Industries that I never thought about what I would do with it. I antagonized Luthor because it was the only way for him to stand down, but what will happen a year from now? 5 years from now? He wants the Kryptonite. He won’t simply give up.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Kon, “but now you’ve got time to figure out a plan. How about this: now that you’re CEO, what can Luthor do to get the Kryptonite?”

“He can’t kill me unless he hires a stand-in to then give him the company. Part of my contract as CEO makes it so that all of DI’s resources go to charity once stock is reciprocated.”

“Okay… What else?”

“He could buy parts of the company. Now that I’ve inherited it, people are allowed to sell or buy major stock. If Lex obtains 51% or more of the company, he could fight me for ownership.” Tim immediately took out his phone. “So I need to buy 20% more of the stock so that can’t happen.”

Kon murmured, “Are there any other ways he could obtain DI?”

“Obviously, he can steal it. He'll have to figure out where it is first, though.”

“I think you have this figured out, Tim.”

Tim felt relief fill his body. “Yeah,” he muttered hesitantly, “I think I might.” He looked up at the street sign they were at. He asked, “Hey Kon, want to meet Bernard?”

“Like, your boyfriend?”

“Mm-hmm.”

They were at his doorstep a few minutes later. Tim saw Prudence get up from her hiding spot and wave. Tim waved back before asking Kon to lift them up to a window. Kon did so with an amused look. Tim tapped on the window until Bernard opened it up.

As Kon stepped inside, Bernard said, “What the f*ck, Tim?” It wasn’t said with anger or sadness or hatred. No, it was said with excitement.

Tim grinned back at the blond. “Bernard, meet Conner. Conner, meet Bernard.” He watched as they just stared at one another, clearly wondering what was going on. “Conner’s a great climber. Oddly strong but completely normal.”

Bernard sighed out. “Tim, I saw the news. I know he’s your bodyguard because Lex Luthor is trying to kill you.” He quickly kissed Tim’s temple as he checked over him for bruises. Then, the blond turned towards Kon.

Kon flashed a peace sign. “Sup.”

“Great,” said Tim, thoroughly pleased that two of his favorite people in the world had met. “I was wondering if you two would like to come to my house and watch movies all day.”

“It depends on the movies,” said Bernard, even though he was already putting on a jacket.

Tim smiled as he saw Kon point two fingers at Bernard and say, “Ditto. What movies, Tim? I ain’t watching Star Wars again, no matter how much you beg.”

Then, from the window, Pru appeared. She offered up as if nothing was wrong, “I’ll only join if it’s a really bad action movie. Something with lots of fake blood and weird torture methods.”

Tim grinned. This was going to be a great day. A relaxing day. A few hours to unwind and pretend that Lex wasn’t a pain in his ass, that Bruce wasn't trying to mend bridges one text at a time, and that he didn’t feel the need to jump across buildings in order to clear his head.

Lex Luthor threw a tantrum. Within hours of becoming the CEO of Drake Industries, Tim watched as every headline was about him. CEO Timothy Drake: Timeline or Timmy Drake Stays Ahead. Tim was already tired of it.

Thankfully, he had Kon, Prudence, and Bernard to keep him company. It was freaky to see Pru and Bernard hit it off while Kon was freaked out by their bonding. Bernard would mention one of his conspiracies while Pru would mention something real about his conspiracy.

Tim loved every minute of chaotic peace he got. He pretended that Bruce wasn’t messaging him, that Luthor wasn’t throwing a tantrum over Kryptonite, and that there wasn’t a card on his bed that he noticed when he changed into loungewear.

Chapter 9 Chapter Text

Tim was fine. There were assassins constantly watching him on the Demon Head’s orders. There was never a time when he believed the Joker and Harley Quinn to be his parents. He owned a company that he didn’t want. Tim was fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I am f i n e. It’s his new mantra.

Tim was not fine. At least, that’s what Pru said. She stayed by his side, determined to make Ra’s get off his back now that Lex was behind them. She mentioned clueing in the Bats, but Tim shot her down. He still couldn’t be around Damian and Jason and Stephanie and Dick and Cass or Bruce or Duke or Barbara or Alfred without breaking down again.

He was fine. No matter what Pru believed, Tim was fine.

Yet he wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t.

People who were fine didn’t have members of the League of Assassins following his every move, didn’t have panic attacks when he woke up believing that Ra’s had finally come for him, didn’t think that his throat was restricted. Fine people didn’t hear laughter in their ears each time they saw someone with green hair or red lips or sickly pale skin.

Tim quit being Robin because of the Joker, partially. He mainly quit because he couldn’t work in the field anymore. Every noise made him itch. Every time he heard the sound of a buzz, he reacted violently. Every time someone landed a hand on him, he could smell the Joker’s breath as he laughed in his ear and promised more cruel things to come.

Prudence promised to stay with him until he was safe. Tim wasn’t sure if she meant physically or mentally. He felt bad about it because she would end up staying in Gotham indefinitely if she thought he could get over his past traumas. Pru didn’t deserve for him to be useless.

Pru said she didn't mind. She hadn’t gone on a vacation in a while. In fact, she said that Gotham kept her plenty busy. Tim knew she was lying. She didn’t leave Drake Manor unless it was to watch Bernard when there was suspicious activity. There was no way that she didn’t feel like a ticking time bomb.

Tim would never be able to make this up to her.

Kon arrived an hour later with a to-go container of breakfast hash. Tim had managed to take a shower and pull himself together by then. Kon clearly knew something was off, but he was a nice enough friend to not comment on it. Instead, they turned on the television and binged Swamp People over and over. Anything was better than the news.

Tim knew that he would have to face Bruce eventually. He hadn’t shown up to work for a week, hadn’t even gone out in public either. Kon called him a hermit and threatened to call over Cassie and Bart so Tim would get out of his rut.

Bernard and Pru were apparently having fun, though. Prudence sent him a photograph of them searching the tunnels under Gotham together. Bernard was super excited about it too, claiming, Tim, you should help us figure out why Gotham’s so weird! They came back 5 hours later covered in sewer and cave filth but grinning.

Now, he was chilling with Pru on the couch.

“You’re thinking too hard, Red,” she murmured to him.

Tim looked up. He was practically on top of Pru. She didn’t mind. Her fingers massaged his head. He was sure that she didn't realize how nice and affectionate she was being. Or, she did know and him mentioning it would cause her to stop.

“Do you think that if I go on a date with Ra’s, that he’ll leave me alone? I could do what Robert Pattinson did or something; complain about everything so that my stalker goes away.”

“I think Ra’s would see you agreeing to a date as permission to continue lusting after you,” she replied bluntly. “He’s weird that way. You shouldn’t lead him on. Make it more clear that you don’t like him.”

“What else do I have to do in order to make it more clear, Pru? He said that I wouldn’t have to be a willing participant in the relationship.”

Prudence’s hand stopped. Strangely serious, she asked, “He said that?” Tim hummed. “sh*t. He’s actually going to come for you one day. Do you have an escape plan? You’ve gotta think, Tim. Ra’s isn’t someone you should mess with. If you get Talia on your side, she might help with distracting him, but she won’t do much more.”

“I can’t prepare for being captured by Ra’s.” Tim looked at his fingernails. They were uneven because of how anxious he had been the last few weeks, no, years of his life. “He’s got too many resources, even with all of the damage I did when I was 17.”

“We could hunt him down, if you want. Make an elite team of hitmen, spies, and assassins that want Ra’s al Ghul dead.”

“Nah. If I made something like that, Deathstroke would get involved.”

Pru questioned, “What’s so bad about that guy? He has some morals, doesn’t he? I don’t think he hurts little kids. At least, not for money. Teenagers, I’m pretty sure, are fair game. But babies? Toddlers? No way. Most killers don’t hurt kiddies.”

“Slade has a grudge against Dick, I think. I would rather not cause a stir in the hero community because I decided to take down an immortal-like being just because he makes me anxious.”

“You’ve got a right to be anxious.” Prudence sounded confident, like her words were the law. “Don’t let anyone tell you that your feelings aren’t valid. Ra’s is a full-time creep. His bizarre obsession with you isn’t normal. Not to mention his letters.”

Tim groaned. He whined, “Why are you mentioning the letters? You can’t just casually mention them. I tell myself that they’re not real. Stop making them real, Pru.” He sighed, twiddling with his fingers. “It’s so badly written.”

“That’s what you have a problem with, really?”

“It’s so bad,” he repeated. “So, so bad. I don’t think he’s ever read a romance novel in his life.”

Prudence snorted. “He probably doesn’t know how to get a public library card or use a smartphone.”

“I bet he thinks that wifi isn’t that important. He could totally survive without electronics, ya know?”

“Doesn’t even know about hot tubs or jacuzzis. He prefers to take his dips in the Pit instead.”

“Or, I challenge you this; he installed a jacuzzi into one of the Pits and hasn’t told anyone.”

“You know,” Pru said, “I could get down with that. I bet it would feel really nice.”

“Other than the being dead part?”

“Yeah, other than that.”

It took an entire week to make Prudence leave.

She wasn’t happy about it at all but Tim knew that she needed to move on. He reached out to a couple of his contacts who needed some backup. Something for a thrill that Pru would adore. Within hours, she had been discussing which options would be the best for her. When she left, Tim felt something in him break.

Tim was happy for her. Truly. Pru didn’t do well. She had already stuck around for a lot longer than she should have. Gotham wasn’t something that she loved. So, when she boarded onto the plane with a gruff smile, Tim made sure to look okay. She left him with an arsenal in one of his guest bedrooms. He wasn’t going to be mad about it.

Tim made it home, his heart hammering in his chest wildly.

He barely thought about it as he took out a bottle of wine from 1867 that his parents never opened, always saving it for a big day.

Everyone was cleared out and reality set in. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this. He didn’t want to be normal. A civilian. He thought he did. Thought that it would make everything else less real. But. But now it’s too f*cking real and Tim hated everything.

He was almost at the end of the bottle as he flopped down onto the couch, his back on the cushions and feet at the end. He wiggled his toes and laughed. Toes looked so goddamn weird. He didn’t understand why toes looked like how they did. And hands. Hands were weird too. In fact, Tim didn’t understand the human body.

Tim took another glug from the glass — he hated the odd taste and the rough edge — before he took out his phone. His hair pooled around his head, itching his cheeks. That didn't matter, though. Nothing did.

When he heard Bruce pick up, he whispered, “I hate this.”

Bruce’s tone wasn’t gruff or sad or mad or anything that Tim expected. He simply responded, “What’s troubling you, Tim?”

Tim curled around the phone, wondering if he needed to put it on speaker. Instead, he said, “B, I f*cked up so bad. I messed everything up. I’m horrible at this. I’m just. I just suck.”

“Where are you?”

“Home,” he answered in a whine. “Don’t worry, B. I made sure everyone else was gone. Even Kon. He argued with me about it, but I told him that I wanted him to help out on missions. I told him I’d be extra careful while he was off-world.”

“You don’t sound like you’ve been careful, Tim.”

“I don’t feel like being careful. I should’ve known that it’d end like this. That I’d feel like this. I didn’t want this, Bruce. I didn’t want it at all. I just wanted— I just wanted my parents back. I wanted to see my mom do her nails before she offered to do mine. I wanted my dad to show me how to hang up my coats so they don’t fold weirdly. I wanted Dana to talk me through how to turn on the gas to the grill. I just… I just wanted them. I never wanted to be CEO.”

“I know, Tim,” he responded gently.

Tim hated it. How come Bruce got to be the emotionally mature one in this conversation? How come Tim felt like he was the one running behind? Like he was the one that didn’t realize his fate until it was too late.

“Bruce,” Tim whispered in the phone, “I miss them. I miss them so much. I didn’t realize how f*cked in the head I was. I had goals, y’know. It helped me focus on everything but my parents. I needed to find you, and then I needed to become CEO. I never thought about what I’d do after those goals were done.”

“You’re in limbo,” offered Bruce.

“Yeah,” he hummed. “Limbo. I don’t have any goals anymore. I have nothing to focus on so now I’m grieving. It’s sh*t, by the way. I understand why you put on the furry suit now. All I can think about is that if I was detaining criminals, then at least I wouldn’t be sitting at home. I wouldn’t be able to think.”

Tim frowned when there was no reply. He dropped his phone to the ground, not caring that it made a crunching sound. He curled around one of the couch pillows, forcing himself to not cry. He never wanted this. None of it.

And then a shadow hid the light from Tim’s eyes. He looked up to see a familiar daunting figure. Tim unclenched from around the pillow.

“Bruce?”

Bruce pulled up an ottoman, sitting on it right in front of Tim’s cushion. He said gently, “You’re okay, Tim. You’re okay.” His hand bent, brushing Tim’s hair out of his face. “Have you eaten anything today?”

Tim ate that morning, but it was nearly 8 P.M. now. There were no worries about vomiting. “I ate breakfast,” he admitted. His hands searched for the wine bottle, only for him to spot it on the table. Bruce had moved it.

“Okay.” Bruce continued to run his fingers through Tim’s hair. Tim found it strangely peaceful. “Want to tell me why you feel like drinking?”

“I’m a mess,” he admitted, not able to pretend otherwise.

Bruce moved his hand to hold Tim’s. “You’re not a mess, Tim. You’ve gone through a lot lately. It’s okay to not have complete control over how you feel.”

“It’s not okay,” argued Tim. He looked up from the pillow his head rested on. “I always plan things ahead, B. It’s what made me great at figuring things out. At fighting against opponents that wouldn’t flinch if they killed me. At escaping rooms when no one would answer the comms.”

Bruce’s hand stuttered. Tim wondered if he was figuring it out. If he was learning just how useless Tim was. Then, Bruce handed him a bottle of water. He ushered it to Tim’s lips. Tim only took a few sips to please the stubborn man.

Tim looked up at Bruce. For some reason, he didn't seem to hate Tim. Didn’t appear to be judging him either. He just sat there, comforting Tim while he had a breakdown. This was Tim’s one chance, he knew. He wouldn’t allow himself to get tipsy or drunk again out of embarrassment.

“I’m going to tell you some secrets that sober me would never admit to,” he announced, trying his best to not slur the words.

Bruce dutifully nodded and squeezed his hand. “I’m listening.”

He exhaled, “I quit being Robin because I couldn’t get the sound of his laughter out of my head.”

Bruce’s squeeze tightened, never letting it dull down.

“Ra’s al Ghul won’t stop sending me cards about how much he wants me carnally.”

Bruce’s squeeze faltered for just a moment before he tightened his grip. Tim squeezed back.

He wanted to pretend that the Demon Head wasn’t stalking him. Wanted to pretend that he didn’t know who Ra’s al Ghul even was. That the immortal man didn’t have his spleen. That Tim didn’t kill a countless number of people when he blew up his bases around the world.

“And I… I never wanted to be temporary. I didn’t want to just be a placeholder. I wanted to be your son but I knew that I’d just be another disappointment so I never tried to push the line. I was happy when I was Robin, but I could only dream that I’d be happier as your kid.”

Bruce’s strong voice stated, “Oh, Tim, you were never temporary in my life. I wanted you to be my son too. I didn’t wish to make you uncomfortable because you still had parents. I would have adopted you, even if you were 17.”

Tim felt the tears escape his eyes. Just a little. He rubbed at them. It didn’t make them go away. Instead, his eyes felt like they were on fire instead.

“Do you mean that? Like, really mean that?”

Tim didn’t remember much from that night. In fact, all he remembered from that day was eating breakfast, feeding Seer and Prophet, arguing with Kon, and grabbing a bottle of wine.

When Tim woke up, he was in his bed.

He didn’t recall what had happened, but the scent of Bruce’s cologne lingered in the air. Tim held back tears. He just knew he humiliated himself. Bruce was never supposed to see him like this.

Tim took a shower, he ate breakfast, and did morning yoga. He texted with Cassie and Bart, inviting them over for a movie night over the weekend. Kon texted him right after, a blaze of happy emojis. Tim then texted Bernard, hoping that he’d like to come too. It was nearing lunch by the time he was done surfing the web, so he went into the kitchen.

That’s when Bruce swept in. Tim wasn’t sure how long he had been in his house.

Tim was mixing together a vinaigrette when he looked up to see Bruce standing in the middle of the room. It was a bizarre sight. Bruce was just Bruce. He wasn’t Brucie Wayne or Batman. He even held a small lunch basket that Tim knew Alfred packed.

Tim finished up mixing together his salad before he sat down at the dining table. Bruce sat across from him. He opened the basket to reveal small quiche, packed yogurt parfaits, two sealed glasses of Alfred’s hand-squeezed lemonade, and tiny cucumber sandwiches that Tim could never turn down.

Tim was half-way through his plate of salad when Bruce said, “You told me many concerning things last night.”

Tim set down his fork. He knew his salad would get soggy and slimy, but this was an important conversation. He tried to not look like he had no idea what he had said to Bruce. He lied to Batman all of the time. But Bruce? Tim sucked at lying to the exhausted man.

Bruce continued, “I investigated the matters with Barbara.”

Oh, God, it was happening. Tim was going to be outed from Gotham, from the Bats, from everything he loved and cherished from afar. Tim sucked in a wispy breath, trying to force his tears to not spew out.

“I would like to first state that I’m sorry you felt like you had to go through this alone. It was never my intention to alienate you. I want you to know that I treasure you like a son. No matter what has happened in the past, that will not change.”

Tim felt his lungs freeze. What is happening?

Bruce continued, “You are my son, Tim. You’ve been my son since the day you went to the manor and told Alfred that you knew who we were. You’ve been my son every day since we shared milkshakes. I know that I haven’t been the best father. I know I’m not a good communicator.”

“I— I don’t understand. Br— Bruce, what are you—”

Bruce swiftly stood up. He walked around the table and picked up Tim into his arms. Tim felt Bruce hug him, his muscles squeezing gently as Tim relaxed in the embrace.

Tim didn’t remember the last time Bruce hugged him, if he ever had.

“I’m here, Tim. I won’t let you battle this alone anymore.”

They ate lunch together. Tim felt awkward the entire time but he couldn’t help but smile softly. Bruce wasn’t any better. He pecked at his parfait with a quirky little grin that Tim had never seen on Bruce’s facial features before. Tim wondered if this was what he missed that first time around.

“Your injuries are all healed, I believe.”

Tim left his spoon in his parfait. “I think I’m completely healed, yes. I still do some of the physical therapy exercises that Da— Dana told me about, but there’s nothing wrong with it anymore.”

Bruce grunted. “Are you going to quit Wayne Enterprises?”

Tim thought he was fired. He hadn’t gone into work for a while.

“I haven’t decided how to move forward,” he admitted after a moment. “I don’t want to be CEO of Drake Industries. I didn’t want it at all.”

Bruce grunted again.

“Would you, uh, be willing for a compromise?” Tim attempted to not appear nervous. “I don’t want to handle paperwork. I’ve never liked it. I don’t like being the boss either. It’s not the type of thing that plays to my strengths.”

“You led Young Justice,” murmured Bruce.

Tim argued, “I abandoned my teammates when they needed me most.”

“You didn’t abandon them, Tim. You were traumatized and took yourself out of the field. You were responsible. You knew that you weren’t reliable, so you removed yourself from the equation. It’s something that many heroes and vigilantes aren’t willing to do.”

Tim had never thought of it that way. He lifted his spoon up and took another bite of yogurt, fruit, and granola. Bruce mimicked him. Neither of them wanted to leave even if there was slightly tension in the air.

Tim asked hesitantly, “Do they know?”

Bruce raised a brow. “As far as they know, the third Robin is retired and they haven’t heard a word since. I believe that Cass knows through her own volition but she wouldn’t out you without your permission.”

“You didn’t tell them about Red Robin?”

Bruce fumbled with his spoon. “They know that I was saved by a hero. They assumed that it was Clark, alone. We never specified who it was. I assumed that since you were adamant about wanting to be a civilian, that you would not like it if I shared with your siblings that you took up being a cape again.”

Tim breathed out shakily. “Then I’m good. I could continue being a civilian without any worries.”

He could do this. He could return to normal. To date Bernard, chat with Pru over the phone, take care of Seer and Prophet. All of it. He could be normal. He wouldn’t have to worry about his identity ever being leaked.

“They could know your identity and you could be a civilian anyway.”

“They wouldn’t leave me alone if they knew.” Tim leveled his gaze with Bruce. Bruce nodded his head in agreement. “They would pester me or pity me or anything, really, in order to get in front of my face.”

“Jason and Damian are different now,” he hedged.

Tim set down the spoon, leaving it in the almost empty parfait container. “I know that. They’re brash and bizarre, but they’re not nearly as crude and viscous as they once were.”

“Duke always hears about the third Robin. I think he has trouble living up to expectations.”

Tim didn’t believe it. “They talk about me?”

Bruce smiled, wide and innocent, almost warmly. “You were a good friend to them. Steph and Cass always talk about your plans and trickshots. Every time a bo staff is mentioned, you get brought up, seeing as you’re the master of it.”

“Lady Shiva was the one who taught me,” argued Tim, his face heating up in embarrassment.

Bruce continued, “No one had touched your old suit, not even Damian. It’s packed away in a drawer but Alfred washes it every so often to keep it pristine. Dick mentions your snarky quips every so often, too. He really loves you, you know. You were his little brother. Still are.”

Tim promised himself that he wouldn’t cry, so he wiped at his cheeks. He wasn’t prepared for this kind of talk today.

“You can’t honestly say that I’m brought up 4 years after I quit. After I stopped being a part of the crew.”

Bruce simply said, “And I think about you every time you’re mentioned in the news. Every time I see a kid with a camera. Every day when I see my kids laughing with one another, I imagine that you could have been there if I tried harder to be a better mentor.”

Tim couldn’t utter a word. He was loved by so many others without even knowing.

- - -
— — —
- - -

Harley was the one who broke first. The Joker went out to get a battery. The last one died, too much electricity being forced to Timmy’s brain. So Harley took her chances. She unwrapped Tim for the machines and the table. She shot everyone who tried to stop her as she picked him up and to a safe house.

Tim woke up on a twin bed, Harley looking at him with wide eyes. She wasn’t in her gear, but something casual. Poison Ivy was behind her, as well as Catwoman. Tim, for just a moment, wondered if he was supposed to call them all “mom.” Instead, though, they treated his injuries.

Days passed quickly in their case. Selina — not Catwoman, not really anymore — stayed at his side and kept the Bats busy after the latest Arkham Asylum breakout. Told the Dark Knight that the Joker was hiding in a warehouse by the marina. He was dragged back to his cell within 12 hours.

All the while, Harley was trying to remind him of who he was. He wasn’t JJ. He wasn’t Joker Junior. He was Timothy Jackson Drake. He was the third Robin. He was normal. He was normal. He was normal. He didn’t want to kill. He didn’t want to make daddy proud. Didn’t want to kill Batsy. Didn’t want to kill or harm anything at all.

Pamela kept his social media up to date, texted with his friends, and made it appear that he was just fine. Tim asked her to. He couldn’t allow anyone to know. He wasn’t willing to let anyone know. They didn’t even know his civilian name. There was no way he was going to tell them that the Joker caught him.

4 days after Harley rescued him, he returned to Drake Manor. He texted with Bruce to let him know that he was going to patrol. He had a made-up injury — a sprain in his leg so he couldn’t patrol before — but now it was healed.

When he tried to patrol that night, he didn’t make it very far. He tried. Tim tried so hard to do better. To take down criminals lightly. But every time he saw a gun, he either wanted to kill the criminal with it, or kill himself. He couldn’t be in the field. He still heard laughter, a constant state of mind. Was this how Jason felt?

Tim saw Harley sometimes on the street. She kept things professional. They might nod or smile at one another before she’d cause chaos elsewhere. Bruce still thought she was bad, but most others knew the truth by now. She was practically part of the Birds of Prey. Tim wished his once-upon-a-time mother well. She deserved a second chance at life. One without the Joker.

Tim stepped down from Robin. He couldn’t do it anymore. When he looked in the mirror, he saw something broken. He saw the scar on his neck that he always had to cover up. The burns on his forehead from electrocution that he hid with bangs. The ghost of a boy who couldn’t recover.

Then, one day, he was able to see people wearing red lipstick without crying. He was able to see people with green highlights in their hair. He was able to walk down the street without wondering how his daddy was doing in a cell.

It was a slow process. He talked with Harley about it every so often. She was good at the whole therapist thing. She was kind, as well. They talked to one another about their issues. Give and take.

Yet Tim still couldn’t stand electrocution in any form.

Chapter 10 Chapter Text

This was not the plan. This was never in the plan, not even close.

Tim had a relaxing weekend that was still emotional. Cassie, Bart, and Kon visited Gotham for a movie night. They also met Bernard. The introductions were quick. It was also nice that Kon and Bernard were already briefly introduced. They also met Seer and Prophet, who Bart instantly adored.

Bernard took one look at them, dragged Tim to a closet, and asked, “Do I need to be worried?” Tim comforted his boyfriend before going back to the living room with snacks. His friends were laughing, having overheard the conversation. Stupid super hearing.

They watched movies for hours until it was well into the night. When they woke up the next day, Cassie complained about a sore neck, Bart offered to pick up breakfast, and Kon said that he had to head back to Smallville. Tim watched Bernard’s gears turn in his head.

A couple of days later, Tim met with the board of Drake Industries again. He had a new plan. He strode into DI with confidence, especially when he passed the fancy cars in the parking lot. He was going to crush their dreams.

This was for the best, he told himself. Drake Industries would be fine. Gotham needed someone to focus on research. It needed more than people addressing the side effects that happen after. If Tim could stop gasses, toxins, and drugs before they could affect the human brain, then the citizens of Gotham would be safer.

Tim had big plans. The medical equipment that was ordered this month wouldn’t go to waste. He planned to donate it to the local hospitals and clinics. DI ordered thousands of materials each month and sold them at a higher price. It made sense for a for-profit business, but it drained the budgets of the surrounding area.

Tim also wanted to create a recreation or learning center for kids who wanted to learn about science. A place where there would be clean food and water, tutors, and instructors that were willing to explain science in simpler terms than textbooks did.

Tim was excited.

As he began to walk towards the entrance of DI in glee, that’s when he saw it. Across the street in an alley, Duke and Damian were being picked up by members of the League of Assassins. Because of course.

Tim was running towards them before he processed it. He heard the blare of car horns and squealing tires, but none of that mattered. He arrived in the alley just in time to see a nondescript van take off at the other end.

Tim reached for his phone as he ran. He clicked on the contact with no hesitance. As soon as the line picked up, he asked, “Hey, O, there’s a big situation. Really big. Red Code big. I just saw Robin and Signal get abducted by Ra’s.”

Barbara seemed surprised but she was calm. “I have their trackers heading West. I’ll send backup immediately. Fair warning, Nightwing and Hood aren’t far away. Neither is B.”

“That’s fine,” he said, panting as he ran along the street.

He swiped a skateboard from a pair of middle schoolers that didn’t even look surprised. He threw down a wad of cash as thanks. They thanked him as he ran off. Well, that was nice. Hopefully no one had a video of that.

“Alright,” she breathed across the phone, “N and H are on your way. Spoiler and Batgirl are getting geared up.”

“And B?”

“He’s at work. I’ve already notified him. He’ll see the messages soon.”

“Okay, okay.” Tim really hoped that this wasn’t going to be as big of a deal as it seemed. “I should probably tell you that it’s nice to hear your voice. I’m sorry for not staying in contact. I know that you know who I am but I didn’t—”

Barbara said quickly, “It’s okay. You’re here now. Do you have any weapons? Any gear?”

Tim looked down to his suit. “Nope. Any emergency bags near my location?”

Baraba was quiet for a few seconds before she said, “Two rights from now, there’s a small emergency supply bag in the brick wall. You should be able to get to it. It’s an off-colored brick. More orange than red. The other bricks should collapse enough for the bag to be taken out. It doesn’t say what’s inside, but it should still be helpful.”

Tim stopped his skateboard and tore into the brick wall without a thought. He grabbed the bag and started down the street again. The van was only a block away. There was a lot of traffic seeing as it was lunchtime in Gotham.

He held the phone back up to his ear. Tim said, “Any idea how many assassins are in Gotham?”

“There’s been a lot of movement lately,” she said, not unkindly. “I’m unsure of the exact number, but it’s fairly large. I would suspect that they’ve been planning this. Plus, y’know, the creepy things going on with you. I wish you would have told me about it. I would have helped you anyway I could.”

“I thought I had done enough. I blew up all of the bases I could find,” admitted Tim, his heart racing. “I don’t know how much the League has recovered, but I crippled it just 2 years ago. I didn't think— they weren’t supposed to regain their strength so fast.”

“You were— Okay. Well. Are they stopped anywhere? The trackers appear to be slowing down.”

Tim widened his eyes as he watched the van turn down an alley just by a perfectly placed abandoned warehouse. It was all the rage for all villains and criminals alike. Honestly, Tim needed to fill all abandoned properties in some way so that there were less places for crime to take place. Maybe he’d have Drake Industries take them over.

“They arrived at a site. I’m guessing this is where it’s going down.”

Barbara responded, “N and H are 3 minutes away. ETA 6 minutes for the girls.”

“Got it. Going dark.”

“Wait—”

Tim hung up. He felt bad about it as he shoved his phone into the pocket of his suit. Barbara didn’t deserve that.

However, he needed to focus. He couldn’t be distracted. Not when Duke and Damian were in danger. Mainly Damian. Tim thought Ra’s gave up on Damian being his heir, though it appeared that was not the case. Or maybe the League was f*cking with Bruce just because they could.

Tim easily climbed up the fire escape. It reminded him of his younger days before he learned how to use a grappling gun. Back when he watched with avid fascination as Batman and Robin flew through the streets. He couldn't bear to look at many of the pictures anymore.

Tim peered down. There were skylights on the roof. Perfect. He laid on his stomach to peer into the building’s layout.

It was fairly simple to see inside. Duke and Damian were held at sword point, blades pressed against their skin. Tens of other assassins littered the room, covering the walls and all obvious escape points. Tim forced himself to not panic when he saw Ra’s al Ghul standing before them, simply feet away from slaughtering anyone in sight.

Tim stood up carefully, aware that any noise could set off a dangerous man to kill. Tim went through the emergency bag. He discovered rope, wrist ties, a grappling gun, a gun with a slew of bullets, a variety of knives, and a bo staff. Tim held the staff in his hand, testing it out hesitantly.

He put the bag across his shoulder as he thought about the best way to go about this. He subconsciously twirled the bo in his hand before he spotted the air vent. Tim normally didn’t like being so thin, scrawny, and tinily built. However, this was great for events like this.

Tim collapsed the bo and pushed the bag in front of him. He traveled inside the vents with annoyance. It had been a while since he trained for something like this. Nowadays, he did yoga to calm his mind. He still had muscle but not nearly as much as he used to. Hopefully, it would be enough.

The vents were in good condition for an abandoned property. Tim wondered if it was recently turned into a dump. The vents were on, after all. He had to dismantle each twirling wheel carefully before moving on. How did a warehouse like this even have power? He eventually got to a good vantage point.

Tim peered inside the warehouse from the vents. He could pop out at any time.

Ra’s said, “We shall wait for the rest of your clan to arrive. I would hate to start before all parties are here.”

Damian spat out, “Father will defeat you easily. You should run while you still can.” Ra’s merely smiled. Damian took a breath before continuing, “Why are you here, Grandfather? We have not interfered with your business for years. Mother is the only one we have contact with.”

“Perhaps that’s why I’ve come. I never intended to lose sight of family—”

“Don’t pretend that you love me,” argued Damian, his voice calm and detached. “You only wanted me for my body. You never saw me as anything other than a vessel to put your mind inside.”

Ra’s was displeased with being interrupted, it appeared, if his frown was telling the truth.

Duke chose to speak up at that moment, “I think we can all resolve this peacefully. I mean, c’mon, we’re all friendly here.”

The assassin with the sword to his throat held it sterner. Duke fell quiet, his eyes on Damian in worry. Damian, in turn, stared at Ra’s with rage in his green eyes.

Ra’s tutted dramatically just in time for the glass above to cave in. Tim held in a sigh as Dick and Jason landed on their feet, immediately taking out the assassins who had Duke and Damian. It was a good plan, perfect for two people. Now that Duke and Damian were out of immediate harm, they stood as a group.

Ra’s clapped his hands slowly. “Well done. It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you two, Richard, Jason.”

Dick held his escrima sticks close. He was ready to take on the entire building of assassins if it meant that they would make it out. Tim never got over his hero fanboying over Dick Grayson. It was pitiful, almost, how much he loved people who he couldn’t trust. Not really, anyways.

Tim felt chilly in the vents. He cursed the warehouse for having power. Why would the A/C be on? It was wasteful when no one occupied the building. Plus, it hadn't been hot out recently.

“Leave Gotham, asshole,” suggested Jason. He had a gun in each hand. His helmet hid his features, but Tim would bet that he was concerned even if it was just a tinge.

Ra’s deemed them with a simple, “I’d rather not.”

He walked to the side, then to the other side. He repeated the process. It was as if the somewhat immortal man was pacing. It didn’t make sense. Ra’s was never stressed or nervous. Just what was he planning?

“Are you not going to fight your way out?” asked Ra’s, a smirk on his face.

Dick definitely rolled his eyes under the mask. He quipped, “Would you let us go just for funsies?”

Damian tutted, then said, “It’s never that easy with someone like grandfather.”

Ra’s glowered. If Tim didn’t know better, he’d say that Ra’s was preparing to yell.

Jason added, “We can take them.” His fingers twitched against the trigger. Tim wondered if they would be fine. Maybe he didn’t need to make an appearance at all.

Tim felt his fingers itch along the emergency bag. His grip tightened on the collapsed bo in his other hand. He had options yet none of them sounded good. A part of him didn’t want to face Ra’s while the other part didn’t want to face the Bats.

Ra’s said, “None of you are patient. It’s sad that you haven’t been directed well. Patience must be taught. The long game is always worth it in the end.”

It was, wasn’t it? Tim remembered his short stint helping Ra’s take down the Council of Spiders. It was only a few months and yet it still affected him. Z and Owens died because of their master, because Tim needed help. Tim would never allow himself to forget their deaths. He wished to lay all of the blame on the Demon Head. Tim was trying to not lie to himself much anymore, so he threw that wish away.

Duke asked, “Why do you want all of us here? You’re immortal, aren’t you? Why aren’t you taking over the world or something?”

Ra’s grinned with too much teeth. It was feral, almost, as if animalistic. “I am taking things one step at a time. This is one of the steps. I cannot rule the world alone, after all.”

Damian’s teeth gritted audibly. “Don’t talk about family when you’ve done nothing but show that you don’t want it.”

Ra’s simply responded, “Who said anything about you, grandson? Why would I want you to be by my side? I could have any other heir I want. You’re worthless in your current state; mind washed by your father.”

That only made the room more tense. If they weren’t here for Damian, then what was their goal? Tim watched as the group below — his once siblings — got ready to fight for their lives. It plainly didn’t make sense. Was this all a plot for Bruce? Did Ra’s want them out of the way while something else went down in the city?

Tim’s gut churned uncontrollably. The situation was amiss. Did assassins purposely abduct Duke and Damian in front of Drake Industries? Was Tim meant to be here with them so that only Barbara was the only Bat in a safe area?

Tim took out his phone with slightly tremorous hands. He pulled up Barbara’s contact information and sent: N, H, S, and R are stuck in the warehouse. Ra’s is waiting for everyone to arrive. ETA’s?

Almost instantly, Barbara replied: Spoiler and Batgirl will be there within 1 minute. B’s ETA is 3.

Tim replied: Is the Tower safe? Alfred?

Barbra responded: All good. A’s in the cave.

Tim sighed out in relief.

Below, it was a standoff. Whoever attacked first would likely win. However, no one wanted to fight. Fight led to injuries and injuries led to death. The risk was high, especially when Ra’s al Ghul was in the room.

Damian questioned, “Does mother know you’re here?”

Ra’s clicked his tongue. “She’s part of the reason I’m here. She mentioned that her beloved was asking too many questions about what I desired. She likely said it so that I would back off. I am not the type of man to back away from what I want. She’s busy on a mission in Austria at the moment.”

What did Ra’s desire? He was immortal, with power and fortunes that would never dissipate. Did he crave entertainment? Tim could see this being a fun way to live out his boring days.

Damn, Tim really wished Pru was here. She would make him feel at ease. Though, she might also die. Tim decided that it was best that she was safe elsewhere.

Then Tim noticed weirdly shaped shadows on the floor. They resembled humanoid figures. Steph and Cass arrived, standing at the skylights in looming stances. Tim felt himself grin. The odds of getting out of this with no critical injuries just skyrocketed in their favor.

Ra’s glanced up. He cooed mockingly, “Come down from your perches. This is a meeting that you all are required to attend.”

A few moments later, Tim watched as Cassandra and Stephanie landed into the group. They were ready to fight. Tim could see their serious fighting faces like it was crystal clear. And yet Ra’s still wasn’t satisfied.

Ra’s drawled, “Detective, come out, come out. I know you’re here. Delaying this won’t help at all.”

Tim’s body froze over in ice. Ra’s knew. Ra’s knew he was here. He knew it all along.

And then Bruce landed onto the floor swiftly.

“Ra’s,” greeted Bruce, his tone hard. “Why are you in Gotham?”

“You know why,” rebutted Ra’s. “I came here for my prize. I am tired of playing cat and mouse. I’ve spent nearly 2 entire years making it clear what I want.”

Bruce guarded his children with his body, though Cass had adjusted her stance to be more threatening.

Bruce stood the closest to Ra’s.

“Leave Gotham,” ordered Bruce in a growl. “Leave now and I won’t vow to destroy you.”

Ra’s flicked his wrist. “You can’t destroy me. After the explosive incident with many of my bases, I’ve upgraded security.”

“You won’t be able to hide from me,” swore Bruce. It sounded like a promise, like a threat.

Ra’s scoffed. “I’m the only reason you’re alive. Without me — without my resources — you would still be lost. Most of your children didn’t even believe that you were alive. If I hadn’t reached out as a benefactor, you would be dead. I believe you owe me a debt.”

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Ra’s couldn’t allude to Tim. He pressed down on the air vent, ready to attack the Demon Head himself. Tim was tired of this. He wanted to be normal. He was tired of having stalkerish assassins follow his every move and occasionally leave a note that Ra’s handwrote.

“That debt was repaid when I didn’t kill you on sight. I’ve given you the chance to back down. It was your choice to stay here.”

“You could not beat me.” It was a statement that Ra’s al Ghul was confident in.

Tim gritted his teeth. So what if it was a possibility that they would lose? In his gut, he knew what the Demon Head was after. Tim could distract the seemingly immortal man if he appeared. It would be so easy.

And yet Bruce’s face seemed to morph. Tim didn’t have the greatest angle but he could see the anger and confidence radiating from Batman’s stance. Then, he noted that Cass was the same. They were both completely on guard, as if ready to fight. Everyone else was, no doubt, but it was as if they were thinking the same thing.

“Red Robin is retired,” declared Bruce. “He does not want nor need to get involved with this. I will end this fight here and now. I will not allow you to threaten him any longer.”

“Those are sweet words.” Ra’s sighed but his stance was all wrong. Tim’s gut churned at the sight. “However, they are meaningless.”

Tim watched as Stephanie stiffened in her position. She whispered harshly, “This is about Red Robin?” All Cass did was nod once in confirmation.

“They don’t know?” Ra’s al Ghul asked, his tone showing how pleased he was. He already knew how much Tim kept hidden. The man’s neck straightened and his chin tilted up with arrogance. “Come now, he did a great thing. He brought the Dark Knight back when everyone else believed he was dead.”

“Leave him out of this.” Bruce practically growled. “I will declare war on the League of Assassins. Talia will stand with me. So will others. You will not continue to harass a civilian.”

“He’s not suited for civilian life. I believe he will be a great leader. It will take time to train him into the position—”

Just as Tim began to drop from the air vent, he heard a bang! His eyes were wide as he searched the scene. Ra’s al Ghul had been shot. It was just a scrape. Tim saw the small dropping blood from the Demon Head’s arm before he looked to who held the only gun in the room.

Jason still had the gun held strongly in his hand, unwavering. The assassins in the room didn’t move an inch. Tim knew it was only because Ra’s didn’t give the signal. Normally, they would protect themselves, but Ra’s al Ghul was purposely having his people stand down.

This was not the plan. He ignored the small buzz of his phone.

Tim let out a small, nearly quiet breath of fright. He swallowed it down as he held his bo staff. He couldn’t be a civilian. He wasn’t good at it anyway. Tam’s words ran through his mind. “You’re different, Tim. There’s no point in hiding it.” So, with confidence that he hadn’t felt in a long time, he stepped into place and met acidic green eyes.

“Detective,” greeted Ra’s al Ghul. He didn’t turn. All he did was slightly tilt his head in greeting. “I’ve wondered why you were only listening in. I suppose I could blame it on your injuries, but I know better than that. Even when I took your spleen, you kept fighting me.”

“You should have stayed down, Ra’s, because now I’m pissed. I didn’t care when you threatened me, but you’ve threatened the only other people I’ve cared about. You should have never left Turkey. You should have pretended to be dead after I blew up your base. If you were smarter, you would have been sufficed with me being a civilian.”

Light flickered in Ra’s al Ghul’s eyes. “I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

From Oracle: Hey, are any of you near this location? RR needs your help ASAP.

Chapter 11 Notes:

... i am so sorry for having no motivation to write this until like 5 hours ago when the idea of having this unfinished going into 2024 made me panic

Chapter Text

It was strange to be in a room full of assassins and vigilantes. He was the only one not dressed for the occasion— well, Ra’s was also draped in robes instead of gear better suited for a fight, but Tim elected to ignore that note.

His suit was tight in all of the wrong places, his bo staff too pristine across his palm. Tim didn’t feel right as he stood below where he came from. The air vent rattled. Tim ignored it. He ignored everything. He was good at that. Every time something broke, he would push it down and ignore the problem until it resurfaced at a later time.

Jason’s gun didn’t waiver in its stance but Tim could tell by Jason’s shoulders that he was surprised. Cass didn’t have any outward changes but her eyes became even more deadly focused on the Demon Head’s every move. Steph and Duke quickly covered their shock by firming their stances and Damian didn’t even look Tim’s way, his green gaze too focused on Bruce’s reaction.

Tim wanted to look at Bruce— wanted to see what the man’s face did. Would he care that TIm arrived? He was delayed. He was late. He purposely didn’t come out and now… now Ra’s had the upper hand. He was ominous, all-seeing.

Tim thought about the buzz on his phone, ignoring the message. It was likely from Babs but Tim couldn't miss the chance of seeing a tick from Ra’s to confirm that.

The bo in his hand was too new. Tim was used to improvisation, especially in fights, but he hadn’t kept up his exercise routine. He still did things, but his muscles were weaker than his state two or even four years ago. He was a civilian that was somewhat athletic, but nothing to the point of being in shape enough to be a vigilante regularly.

The emergency bag was left safely, mostly kept together. But Tim took more than the bo staff with him.

The Demon Head’s words echoed in his head. “I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

It was a setup the entire time.

Ra’s had his loyal servants take Damian and Duke from outside Drake Industries to lure Tim out. It was smart. Ra’s would know that Tim would do what needed to be done to protect those he cherished. Even though he was estranged from Bruce for two years, Tim still went out to prove that he wasn’t dead.

“I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

Tim bit the inside of his cheek. The staff in his hand didn’t have a blade at the end. He didn’t have any weapons from Pru. He barely had his cell phone before he started to run. He was lucky enough that Barbara told him about the emergency kit for vigilantes on the go.

And now Tim was exposed.

His secret identity was finally revealed and he was dreading every moment of it. They would get through this fight but there would be a slew of questions later. Stephanie would probably feel betrayed— he knew she was a vigilante the entire time, while she was left in the dark. Not to mention the others that he viewed as his siblings for years, who had no idea that their lost brother had been so close to home.

He pushed the anxiety thrumming through his veins to the side. He needed to focus, after all. He had to match up to Ra’s al Ghul’s standards if he wanted to ensure the safety of the others in the room.

Tim buzzed with anger. He was pissed that Ra’s had trampled over his retirement. He wanted to be a civilian— to have a normal life that didn’t involve injuries and constant battles for his life.

But even as a civilian, Tim managed to get in trouble. He was kidnapped weekly, got injured from villains doing their normal extracurricular activities, and was nearly assassinated by Lex Luthor for wanting to inherit Drake Industries.

Tam was right, he supposed. Tim never felt like he was normal as he went through the days at Wayne Enterprises. He was always getting into trouble at a moment’s notice. And even if he didn’t purposely step up to calm people down, he wasn’t good at the whole normal-civilian-walking-here thing. The stampede in the stairs came to mind, along with the injury he got because of it.

Part of Tim knew that he was never meant to be a civilian. Ever since he met Dick Grayson at the circus when he was a kid, he had been enamored with wanting more. Tim wanted to be the one doing glorifying tricks, to be the one that flew through the air. A small bit of it was the idea of freedom that always leaked into his mind.

“Gotham needs a Batman—”

“Change can be good.”

“You’re in limbo.”

“I’m a placeholder.”

“You’ve got a right to be anxious.”

“Was this how Jason felt?”

“You’re different, Tim.”

“You never gave a reason for quitting.”

“They talk about me?”

“You’re always welcomed back.”

“Everyone but me will despise you, Timothy.”

“You won’t survive it.”

“I think you’re the saddest person I’ve ever met.”

“Is this what you want?”

“—and Batman needs a Robin.”

Tim breathed out. A small huff of air that was chilly, cold. As the air left his lungs, he allowed his muscles to loosen. He adjusted his stance to something familiar and lax. Ra’s al Ghul wanted Tim to be uptight. Ra’s wanted him to be afraid and cautious.

Tim had been afraid for months, the emotion building up more and more as time passed. He had too many problems to solve himself and not enough time to work out solutions on his own. He could have asked for help but Tim wasn’t good about communication— unless it was under an alias.

Timothy Drake was a shell of a person. He was a persona that Tim worked hard to establish. He was the heir, and now current CEO of DI. Every parent he had died and he soaked in media attention, from his abductions to the headlines about his troubling age for having so much power at his fingertips.

Tim let the staff rest against him. He wouldn’t be co*cky going into this but he also needed to appear arrogant.

Bruce had once told him, back when it was just them patrolling Gotham, that if he was full of fear, then he needed to act angry. Anger was easy to protrude. All a person needed to do was stand taller, make their movements louder, their voice harsher, their actions abrupt but deadly. Acting irrationally was expected when anger clouded a person’s thoughts.

But Tim had been acting from a young age. He was raised to be the heir of a company, after all. Janet expected him to be perfect in all public appearances and Jack wanted him to portray a happy life. Dana brought normalcy but even she knew that his future would be a heavy burden. The kryptonite that DI held was a well-known secret and everyone knew how dangerous it was.

So though Bruce told Tim that anger was easier to act out if he was ever afraid, Tim also knew that he could appear relaxed just as well. Ra’s had seen Tim truly angry before— the League suffered a major loss across their bases.

“You got what you wanted?” asked Tim, tilting his head to the side. Confusion was in his body language but his words were simple and plain with almost no hint of emotion.

Ra’s al Ghul turned his way, attention piqued. “Why, detective,” he purred, “I haven’t seen you look so relaxed since I dragged your unconscious form out of the Pit.”

Tim had the urge to roll his eyes. He already confirmed with multiple sources that Ra’s never placed him in the Lazarus Pit. It was a mental play. Although, Pru did suggest that although Tim didn’t die nor need resuscitating, Ra’s could have fetched some of the water from the Pit to heal Tim’s deadly wound.

Tim also didn’t need to look at the others to see them immediately tense up. The gun in Jason’s hand shook minutely, slight tremors going down the muscles in Jason’s arms despite his might to stop it. Stephanie let out a curse against her will and Damian’s shoulders tightened at the same time as his eyes widened before narrowing at his grandfather.

Tim drawled, “We both know that if I had been placed in that Pit, that you would have been the first to die, Ra’s.”

Ra’s didn’t deny such a statement. Anger was one of the deepest effects of the Lazarus Pit. If Tim had been placed in it while he was in his search for a presumed dead Bruce, then Ra’s would have been chopped into bloody bits, Bruce would be stuck in time, and Tim would have found a way to end his life before he ended up doing anything more he regretted.

“You almost believed it when you first awoke,” quipped Ra’s.

Tim smiled faintly, a nervous chill running down his spine. “Well, I was grievously injured, down an organ, and saw your face. It was a nauseating view. I would have believed anything if it meant not seeing you again.”

Ra’s sniffed at that, as if hurt. It was an act of pettiness, in truth.

Tim huffed at the exploits of this quasi-immortal man. Ra’s had lived for hundreds of years, for tens of decades, but never had someone call him out on his bullsh*t regularly. Tim imagined that it was a lonely life. Timothy might even express empathy for the man. If only Ra’s wasn’t such an annoying bastard…

“Did you know,” Tim said conversationally, “that I’ve met the future version of myself? Well, an alternate version of him. It was a few years back, in my Young Justice days before everyone started to be killed off. In that alternate timeline, I ended up being someone that I despise.”

Tim could still see Batman’s silhouette as he held the gun. As a different version of Tim watched all of his loved ones die and was unable to do anything about it until an idea sprang in his mind. Tim vowed to never become that Batman, the one who held a gun and killed his enemies without expressing emotions.

He promised himself that he would never become a person that Bart would betray. He promised himself that he would never become comfortable with guns or how they worked. He promised himself that he would not take the mantle as Batman, even if every other vigilante or hero died.

Red Robin let the bo staff collapse as he switched his hands to the gun that he hid against his back. The air vent rattled above him as if warning the Demon’s Head to notice.

Tim once promised himself he would never hold a gun in his hands, but it gnawed at him.

He was scared to touch guns, to even look at them, after he witnessed the man that would never be. He ended up learning about guns, if only to know how to dismantle them as a precaution. Prudence helped with how guns actually operated, and which ones were the best for what project. She was a bit too enthusiastic about it, really, but this was the same woman that blew up his hotel room, so he should have expected that.

Tim’s hands didn’t shake as he lifted the gun from his back. The safety wasn’t on and he already loaded the clip of bullets. The emergency bag was kind in a lot of ways but giving Tim an easy way out was not one of them.

Tim pointed the gun at Ra’s.

When blue eyes met acidic green, Tim saw the slightest hint of hesitation and fear.

“Detective—”

Tim interrupted Ra’s.

“You have harassed me ever since I decided to stop being a vigilante. You’ve had assassins stalk me for two years despite my current occupations as a personal assistant. You don’t get to bargain now, not when you’ve done all that you could to isolate me.”

Ra’s clipped his mouth shut, clearly startled. But his eyes were full of mirth and bewitchment. He was excited by the turn of events, like a man who was stuck in a time loop who was forced to repeat the same events for all eternity.

Tim stood with a grin, standing as Red Robin, the vigilante without a code that had one single goal.

Another buzz came from Tim’s phone. It wasn’t a single one and done type of a thing, but rather one with a pattern.

Tim instantly relaxed once more, letting the gun drop.

At the same moment, the League members in the room straightened up as their own contact pagers lit up in a flurry of notifications. Ra’s didn’t signal anyone to be allowed to check their devices but one brave soul checked it anyway. Tim couldn’t help but smirk when he saw the way that the assassin’s face ranged through a series of emotions before turning their dark eyes to Ra’s.

“You always underestimate people, Ra’s.” Tim didn’t bother to hide his amusem*nt.

Ra’s narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never underestimated you, Timothy.”

“But you forget,” said Tim, “that I’m not the only one who intentionally tries to disturb you.”

The Demon Head didn’t falter but Tim knew that the man realized his mistake. He reached for a device, only to finally take one of his people’s pagers and see the message sent out.

Ra’s didn’t destroy the device but it looked like a near thing. The immortal’s muscles shook in rage and the green of his eyes seemed neon and unearthly. But despite the anger and surprise, there was pride and respect within that gaze.

“I admit,” murmured Ra’s, “I didn’t expect my own daughter to start a mutiny.”

“You were hunted down by a fellow organization. Tensions were high and you did nothing to calm down those loyal to you.”

“Is this…” Ra’s was perturbed. “Is this about those that I assigned to you while on your mission?”

Z and Owens flashed in Tim’s mind. The scene of Pru’s neck bleeding horribly. The desert sand itching his eyes and his hands feeling much too cold despite the heated winds.

Tim gritted his teeth. Bruce was right; anger was easy to fake, especially when it was partially true. His temper rose the more he looked at Ra’s— at the man who both helped Tim at his darkest moment and created his cemented downfall at the same time.

“Talia will be a much better leader than you ever could be.”

Tim made haste by letting the gun slip back into his suit and letting all the dominos fall into place. He didn’t even need to check the message from Pru to know that Talia had sent out the news of her rebellion to all League members. Ra’s was doomed to fail here, if he tried to fight back.

“I am surrounded by loyal subjects that understand what being a traitor means,” refuted Ra’s.

Death was the only way to escape the League of Assassins. Normally, that is. Pru got a special pass due to her team dying and being Talia’s undisclosed favorite.

Tim felt anxiety flush away from his system. Ra’s was still as narcissistic and co*cky as ever. Of course, the man had the experience to back it up, but he also forgot that the world evolved faster nowadays.

He had told Ra’s before that he was never alone— and it was still true.

As League members decided who their true affiliation and loyalties laid with, the backup that Barbara sent for arrived. She never disappointed him. Babs was great at knowing when they needed a surprise party.

Helena, the Huntress, shot an arrow through a window. It crashed just above Ra’s al Ghul’s shoulder. He dodged it with a look of disdain. It made everyone else present react. League members fought their fellow League members while vigilantes focused on beating down anyone that came near them— a special focus on keeping Ra’s in place.

It was then when Harley crashed down a door and lifted a hand up in exaggeration. “Oh my, Timmy! Sorry for being late to the show!”

Tim met her gaze across the room and knew that no lethal force would be needed. He clutched the unfamiliar bo staff and fell into the swing of things.

He would never admit how easy it was to twirl the staff and use it just as Lady Shiva taught him. He expected to be rusty after not practicing hard for the past few years, but he fell into place easily. Cass sought him out, with Jason collaborating on Tim’s other side.

Within minutes, the only ones left standing were vigilantes and their co-workers. Well, aside from Ra’s who decided to glower. If looks could kill…

One moment, Ra’s was in the perfect position for Bruce to take down, and the next Ra’s was gone in a cloud of smoke. Tim groaned in annoyance before the others realized what was happening. Within seconds, Ra’s had left the building with the remaining few loyal supporters that followed him.

Tim coughed as the smoke slowly cleared and fizzled away. He collapsed the bo staff and preplanned a way of escape. Harley sent him a look from over Bruce’s shoulder, as if trying to communicate that Tim couldn’t leave without explaining.

Tim sighed heavily as he looked at the air vents in bemusem*nt. If he slipped away now, he would have at least a couple of more hours of peace. He could go home, feed Seer and Prophet, and pretend that his world hadn’t fallen apart once more. It’s what he would prefer to do, if he was being truly honest.

Tim was good at ignoring his problems, which was probably why he felt Cass snake an arm around his own while Jason captured him with a well placed hold on his shoulder. Tim appreciated the comfort.

It wasn’t until a beat later when Jason and Cass dragged him into the circle that he realized that everyone wanted an explanation. Eyes blinked at Tim expectantly— well, Tim assumed they did. Most people were still wearing their masks/helmets.

Tim sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled unsteadily.

As Tim psyched himself up to explain his life story, a ring went out. Tim almost laughed as Bruce quickly scattered to answer his phone. Only one person would call Bruce during such a perfect time.

After a few hushed words, Bruce announced, “Alfred has brunch prepared.”

There were no instructions needed once those words were said. All at once, they moved toward the nearest exit and prepared to travel to Wayne Manor.

- - -
— — —
- - -

Harley swung her feet over the ledge as Tim sat next to her. Gotham was beautiful at night, especially when the smog was cleared away to reveal the twilight sky of murky blues and bright novas.

Tim embraced the silence, allowing himself to calm down. He was busy with returning to normal, to a time before he was a vigilante who patrolled nearly every night in spite of school and his parents’ occasional return home.

It was quiet for the longest time, just the two of them admiring the view of the sky along with the bustling noise of a city that rarely slept in ease.

“You know,” said Harley, her voice shy and concerned, “I was wondering if you liked meeting up like this. I don’t want you to feel forced into it. I’m not…”

“You saved me.”

Harley recoiled at the simplicity of that statement. “I… I was part of the reason you stayed with Mister J for so long. If I had done something different—”

Tim reached out for her pale hand, taking it in his own. Harley was startled but didn’t back away nor flinch from the touch.

“You didn’t want to be there either,” he reminded her.

“So…” Harley’s lips rolled in thought. “Does anything I do cause you to have flashbacks or anything else? I don’t mind hanging out, sugar. But I. I don’t want to do something that harms you in the long run.”

“I’m not scared of your laugh,” stated Tim, knowing full well that Harley was worried about him. He already knew that she held back a lot of her usual volume in tone when they were together. “It’s his laugh that haunts my days.”

Harley hummed noncommittally.

After another few minutes, she offered, “We could kill him. No one would mind… much.”

Tim shrugged, trying to be discrete and nonchalant. “I… That’s unneeded.”

“I’m not joking, hun. If we coordinate it, he’ll never see the light of day again.”

“I know.”

Tim knew better than most how easy it would be to kill the Joker. The green-haired man had a simple routine once you spotted it.

When he escaped Arkham, he would cause the most trouble imaginable, but while in Arkham, he was left to incite trouble amongst the other inmates. And they blabbed a lot for villains with hundreds of secrets— the Riddler especially so, always willing to chat Tim’s ear off despite Tim being a civilian.

Tim knew that the Joker ate eggs and sourdough for breakfast and pasta for lunch when he could. For dinner, all inmates received the same meal with provided nutrition and psycho-analyzation on the side. The Joker pretended to die multiple times every month in an attempt to lure guards into his cell, and he routinely disabled security measures despite the advancing technology Bruce provided Arkham security.

Tim murmured, “Are you okay when we see one another?”

He hadn’t asked before. Harley was good at hiding her emotions when she wanted to. It wouldn’t be strange to think that she was putting up with his company for his benefit and not her own. Tim was the one without a support network to heal his mind.

Harley quickly said with a knowing look, “I like you, Timmy. Even if you no longer wear red and green.”

The relief he felt in his chest after her admittance was of such a great value that he nearly fell off the roof with the weight gone.

Harley cackled as she dragged him back, both of them toppling onto the roof. Her laugh was a bit abrasive but it was pure humor and joy. Tim infectiously smiled and dismissed the idea of breaking into Arkham.

Chapter 12 Notes:

holy sh*t i did it after over a year of this fic floating around in my brain. thanks for sticking with it

Chapter Text

Jason was thankful that no one could see his face. He was always good at acting his part but even he could admit that his eyes gave away his true feelings. He couldn’t blame that on the Pit, though he would if anyone ever accused him of so.

It was surreal to see Timothy Drake, the legendary abductee that was always spotting some sort of injury without seeming to notice the concerned looks sent his way. It was surreal to realize that Tim was the third Robin, the one that Jason had tried to kill more than once. It made more sense now, though.

Jason could see the scar across Tim’s neck now that they were all washed up in the cave. Tim strutted around in a borrowed t-shirt from Duke and basketball shorts from Steph. They used to have a whole shared pile of clothes but Alfred banned it after it caused them to lose more clothing and create more fights about who got to wear what once they returned from patrol.

Tim moved through the cave nonchalantly, his moves casual in every sense of the word despite his somewhat tense eyes that hovered around the room in what could only be described as panic. He knew where everything was but without a mask on or his identity hidden, it felt different.

Jason’s stomach churned, acid boiling him from the inside out. He knew that the vigilante that took his place as Robin after his death was young, but Jason didn’t think that he would be Steph’s age. Stephanie showed them photos of when Tim and her hung out at school, his clothes purposely baggy and his smile wry but true.

It was hard to remember that the same person who Jason remembered going on patrol with was now Bruce’s personal assistant— though that might not last much longer, since Lex Luthor threw a fit when Tim was announced as CEO of Drake Industries. It was laughable at the time but now Jason wondered how on earth Tim managed to lead so many different lives without going insane.

Jason sat down on the couch next to Dick, whose soul seemed just as lost. Jason didn’t even greet his older brother with his usual line of nicknames. Instead, he simply grunted in greeting as he fell back on the couch.

Dick looked pale, his eyes clouded as he stared off in space. His head was turned in the direction of Tim, who was awkwardly repacking an emergency bag that Barbara had them stash in different parts of the city. However, Dick didn’t look like he was focused on Tim, but rather the idea that Tim was once their vigilante co-worker/brother that left abruptly.

Jason was unused to Dick being bright, or at least curious or hopeful. To see Dick look so forlorn… Jason decided he needed to change that expression on Dick’s face.

“So, Dickie-bird, what should I call him first? Timmy seems a bit too normal, and I’ve already called him a few other things. Does ‘Red’ work, you think? Timbo? Timberly? Timber? It’s all so vague. I need a nickname that sticks out, right?”

It only took Dick 10 seconds to process the words before he made a face, then said, “I don’t think he’ll like any of those names.”

“Too late.”

Dick pursed his lips, likely thinking about all of the nicknames he got called. Jason made up quite a few of them through the years.

After licking his lips, Dick continued, “You’ll make him hate you more than he already does.”

Jason choked.

Dick’s face morphed into horror before he blurted out a string of apologies. He tapped on Jason’s back in his awful attempt to usher Jason to stop coughing.

“You’re horrible,” he gasped out.

Dick cringed. “Yeah…” At least he didn't deny it.

It was a sore spot. Everyone knew it. Jason hated when his past murderous rage was brought up, let alone the times when Jason nearly killed the third Robin who mysteriously quit with no rhyme or reason. Bruce had said that Jason wasn’t the reason why Tim quit, but Jason still blamed himself for it. Damian, he knew, did as well.

Tim finished resupplying the emergency kit, the zipping sound echoing loudly in Jason’s ears. It was bizarre to think that Tim held a gun not that long ago, aiming it at Ra’s al Ghul with a look in his eye that would have made most people shiver in fear. Once Tim was done, he lifted the large bag up and placed it in the room where most of their tools were stored.

When Tim came back out, he was greeted with Stephanie. She had her blonde hair pulled up, her fingers twitching along her elbows. With her arms crossed, Steph looked a mix between pissed off, annoyed, and upset. There was also surprise there and maybe a tinge of happiness mixed in as well.

Tim noticed the apprehension immediately, his back straightening out as he assessed the person in front of him. Jason snorted despite his mixed feelings as Steph merely raised an eyebrow at Tim’s actions.

Dick murmured quietly as he watched the same scene, “He didn’t express any fear when we saw him at WE.”

Jason shook his head. “You weren’t there when we got trapped in the elevator.”

As soon as the words left his lips, it dawned on him that Bruce planned it. Maybe even wanted to see if Jason or Damian could tell that Tim was an ex-vigilante. As if Tim wasn’t good at hiding his emotions— as if any of them could be caught without wanting to. Tim was one of the best vigilantes known. Maybe not in Gotham or in the public, because the third Robin was known for mysteriously being replaced with the likely assumption that he died.

But to those that knew the third Robin? Tim was legendary amongst those in the know about heroes and vigilantes. Even people that were more known as anarchists didn’t seem to openly hate Tim— if anything, they respected that Tim left the game before it killed him. In Jason’s mind, Young Justice and the Titans appeared.

He wondered if Tim’s close friends knew his identity. He wondered if it was only the people in Gotham that were left on the outs— didn’t Conner Kent get hired as Tim’s bodyguard? It was weird and when asked, Bruce simply said that he called in a favor with Clark.

It was so obvious now that Jason was looking back at it with new eyes. It was no wonder that Bruce got a personal assistant out of nowhere. Tim needed a way to inherit DI, and in classic Bruce fashion, Bruce decided to show he still cared for those he perceived as his family by communicating horribly.

Wait. Did Bernard know?

Jason didn’t know many things about Tim’s boyfriend, Bernard Dowd, but he knew that he ran a conspiracy channel. Steph liked to watch it with Cass when they needed something to laugh at. Jason had walked in on them and joined it. Duke more often than not was also there, simply happy to be included.

As Jason’s brain short-circuited, he heard a strange noise.

“You floppy-haired moron! Why didn’t you tell me you were a vigilante?” There was some anger in Steph’s voice, but also clear confusion. “It would have made figuring out our study plans so much easier— Not to mention that we could have quizzed one another during patrol!”

“Uhh…”

Tim was at a loss, it appeared. He blinked repeatedly as Steph ranted about how they could have hung out more if she was in the know. She would blush every once in a while in embarrassment. She even mentioned something along the lines of, “oh my god, no wonder you were always apologizing guiltily.”

However, any happiness or laughter bubbled away when Steph said shakily, “You lost 4 four parents at once.” Her pupils shook as she stared Tim in the eyes.

Tim flinched at Steph’s statement. Jason widened his eyes as he realized that it was all true. Jack, Janet, and Dana died one after another. Darkseid had Bruce around the same time, if Jason's memory wasn’t failing him. It was horrifying to think about losing one parent, let alone four parently figures within a year or so.

But then Tim said confidently in a soft voice, “I got one of them back.”

Steph pulled back at the comment, her eyes widening before she sighed. “Yeah,” she murmured, “you did.” Stephanie then pointed at Tim as she stepped closer to him. “You have a lot to explain about that, by the way.”

Jason agreed wholeheartedly with Steph. He needed to know what the f*ck went down to make Ra’s f*cking al Ghul be interested in Tim. The Demon Head mentioned the Pit when they spoke to one another. Jason was barely able to hold it together as those acidic green eyes mocked him.

A grumbling voice intervened. “Tim doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.”

Stephanie turned around to see Bruce standing there in his lounge clothes with Damian teetering next to him with a closed off expression.

Bruce stated firmly, once more, “Tim doesn’t owe us answers.”

Tensely, they moved to the dining room. Tim hung back with Stephanie and Cassandra, sandwiched in between the girls. Jason and Dick walked behind Damian and Duke. Bruce led them out, trailing slowly towards where Alfred was awaiting them.

Upon entering the dining room, Alfred nodded his head to each of them, particularly smiling gently when Tim walked in with the others. To Jason, it made sense that Alfred knew all things about Tim’s secret identity. Hell, Alfred probably kept in touch with Tim. It was more logical for that to be the case, since Tim borrowed the batmobile and grinned widely every time Alfred was mentioned in some capacity.

“I’ve got a question,” announced Duke, voice proper in spite of the tense silence. Tim looked up, assuming the question was for him. Duke asked, “Is it true that you were taught by Lady Shiva?”

Jason noticed that Tim looked perplexed by the question. Oh, Timberly, he had no idea that he was in for a hellish talk over brunch. Duke had a lot of questions about the third Robin, mostly because everyone liked Tim to some capacity, or, well, felt guilty about not appreciating him while he was there.

After a good amount of hesitation, Tim nodded his head. “I trained under Lady Shiva in the bo staff. Mr. Wayne— B, didn’t have time to train me, so I went overseas.”

Oh, that was totally a can of worms that Jason would investigate later. For now, he was sufficed with Tim actually answering the question. He was worried that Tim would shut down the questions, like Bruce implied.

Stephanie chimed in with, “I heard a rumor from your friends that you didn’t tell them your real name when you first met.”

Tim furrowed his brow in confusion, then laughed a little, if a bit unsteady. “I used an alias to gather the team. Young Justice was a bit random, and I honestly don’t know how we lasted as long as we did. We fought all of the time and we kept so many secrets from each other… They only recently learned where I live.”

“Sandsmark swore that your name was Alvin, Tim.” Stephanie raised her eyebrows, hoping for an explanation.

Tim supplied, “An alias… that was burned. I liked Alvin Draper. Cassie did too. She was mad at me when I told her that Alvin’s a wanted criminal.”

“Criminal?” Jason perked up at the idea.

Look, the third Robin was known for being perfect, alright? Everyone — Bruce — would reference Tim’s cases and work as a way to do things. None of them could do the same quality of work in the quantity that Tim did. Bruce himself admitted to not being as good at solving things compared to Tim as well, which was a truly bizarre day for the family.

Tim scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, uh, art thief. I was sloppy and in a rush. I should have used a different alias, since Alvin had a solid paper trail, but again, I was in a rush.”

Cass spoke softly, “Bruce.”

Tim looked at her, startled. The rest of the room didn’t seem to know what to do with that until Bruce sighed.

“Cass,” said Bruce, voice patient, “he doesn’t need to explain—”

“B, calm down. I’m not going to have a meltdown over burning one of my aliases when I went looking for you.” Tim rolled his eyes and scooped up a pastry that was on the table.

Jason glanced at Dick, who noticed the same thing. Tim was referencing Bruce’s timey-wimey incident. It was a dark time in Gotham back then. Dick took over as Batman, Damian was more violent than usual, Steph worked solo, Cass spent most of her time in other countries, and Alfred was more often than not stuck in a house void of laughter.

Tim explained, “I couldn’t figure out what happened on my own. Ra’s found me, and we struck a deal. I would help him with his problem, and he’d fund my research. Things went to sh*t, but I found B in the end. Then I left Ra’s a gift behind because I was raised to be a respectable boy.”

Damian asked, his tone off-sounding, “What did you agree to with my grandfather?”

Tim paused, then admitted, “Another organization was trying to take down the League. I helped Ra’s deal with it.”

Jason supposed that it meant that he wasn’t the only normal murderer in the family now. Like, the others had non-confirmed kills but to willingly kill another person was different. Cassandra and Damian didn’t count, since they were raised to be a certain way. Meanwhile, Tim and Jason were raised in Gotham without any assassin lineages.

Bruce sighed again. It was his guilt-ridden sigh. All at once, they glared at Bruce. Even Tim, who hadn’t done such a thing in years, knew that when Bruce sighed like that then they had to intervene.

“I… apologize for what you had to go through.” Bruce looked up at them, his blue gaze honing in on Tim.

Tim raised his hand, promptly cutting on Bruce’s guilt montage. He snapped, his voice perfectly level, “I was the one that chose to enter the deal with Ra’s. I was the one that chose to quit being a vigilante. You didn’t make my decisions for me, and you will not belittle me by taking the blame.”

Bruce looked like a kicked puppy. In any other scenario, Jason would laugh at Bruce’s face.

Alfred coughed abruptly. “Timothy, I heard that Drake Industries is starting to change many of their current business practices. I wish you well with your goals.”

Bruce quickly added, “I’m proud of you. You’ve never liked the idea of inheriting your parents’ organization but I think you will be able to do a lot of good with its resources.”

Ugh. Jason wrinkled his nose.

It was time to start talking about things that wouldn’t make emotions too involved.

Jason lifted up his cup, spilling orange juice into his mouth. As he set his glass back down, he asked abruptly, “So, does Ra’s want you to be Damian’s grandfather too or what?”

The screech that came from Damian’s mouth almost rivaled Tim’s own horrified look. Steph immediately covered her ears and Cass threw a butter knife at Jason. Bruce’s soul left his body while Dick looked between a mix of relief that Jason was the one to ask it and disbelief that it was a question that needed to be assessed in the first place.

Duke, the one who was assumed to be the normal(™) one in the family, ended up saying casually, “I’m not the only one that thought something was funky with their interaction? Thank god.”

Tim made another painful, whine-like sound. Almost like a tea kettle.

Jason continued, “Is he obsessed with you because of your brain, or, like, do I need to hunt him down?” Jason was 90% sure that Talia was already on a mission to destroy Ra’s al Ghul but he wouldn’t mind joining the fray.

Tim, after multiple stuttered gasps, eventually choked out, “He’s just a bored immortal that didn’t understand why I didn't think he was the sh*t. He has nothing better to do with his power, and he’s petty after I destroyed a dozen or so of his bases, so he’s been trying to get revenge for that.”

“Oh?” Jason one day vowed to hear how Tim destroyed the League’s bases. They were fairly hard to penetrate and even harder to hack in successfully.

— — —
- - -
— — —

Tim looked down to Nessie the cat as she hung in his window blinds.

She was a calico; small and long but oh so fierce. Tim slowly plied her out of the tangle of blinds. Nessie fought against him the entire time. Tim sighed as he finally plopped her onto the floor, only for her to instantly climb back up towards the window.

Tim found her in an alley when he was on a date with Bernard. Of course, that led to taking a trip to the vet, which brought Bernard to say that his apartment didn’t allow pets, so Tim needed to take her in. Obviously.

They fought over the name for a while. Bernard was set on the Loch Ness Monster while Tim eventually decided that he could go along with Venus, seeing as he was a bit of a space nerd when he was younger. Nessie for short, for both a cryptid and a planet in the solar system.

Oh, the things that Tim did for his boyfriend.

Nessie was pretty cute, though. She clawed at everything, including Tim’s flesh. She loved toys, particularly silver vine filled ones. She would throw one particular kicker toy into the air before rolling around with it, all four of her claws scratching at it.

Her little voice was cute too. She meowed, mrrowped, mirred, purred, growled, and yowled all of the time.

Tim would make noises back, causing Nessie to respond more enthusiastically. It would go on until Nessie found something else to do with her time. It was as if they were talking. One time, Bernard came over while they were ‘talking’ only to laugh his ass off while Tim covered his face in embarrassment.

Maybe Tim was getting used to his current life and needed to adjust the best way he knew how— ignore things until the dust settled. He decided to not think too hard about it. He loved Nessie the cat and nothing could change that.

Tim watched as Nessie pawed at the window. This time, she moved the blinds out of the way first.

Tim wondered if he should get a cat perch, so he ordered one without a second thought. He didn’t want one that stuck to the window so instead a 4-foot giant arrived a few days later. Tim struggled to put it together by himself, so he invited Bernard over.

The blond took one look at Tim’s pitiful ass surrounded by the instruction, screws, and floppy wood parts, then announced, “I am so not good at these things, but surely we can do it together.”

It took them 2 hours. People online said that it took them 30 minutes. The only reason they were able to finish it was because they found a Youtube video of it an hour into fumbling around. By the end, Nessie was atop it before they even moved it near the window.

Bernard commented, “I think our little cryptid likes it.”

“You mean our little planet?”

Bernard looked away. Oh. They were going to play that game, were they. Bernard had gotten petty ever since Tim revealed he was an ex-vigilante. Mostly it came with Bernard threatening to not cook for him, which ended up being a powerful motivator to tell Bernard embarrassing stories of his vigilante days.

Tim huffed as he pulled the blinds up. Nessie threw herself against the window, finally free to scratch at the glass without any barriers. She went to town, particularly scratching at the image of Seer and Prophet fluttering in the air just out of reach.

And honestly, Tim couldn’t blame her hunting instincts. He could only smile fondly at the scene, barely noticing that Bernard had come up beside him. Tim felt comfortable in his home enough to not be wary.

Tim walked outside after hearing his bell door ring. He looked at the basket that laid there. He narrowed his eyes at it, then felt his phone buzz before it began to ring.

Tim sighed as he said, “Yes, Pru?”

Prudence cackled over the line. “Did ya see it?"

“I saw it,” he confirmed faintly, trying to sound unamused. With his foot, he kicked the gift basket. “What’s in it this time?”

“Well, I was talkie to Bernie the other day—”

“Bernie? As in Bernard?”

“—and he said that you two adopted a cat, so I thought I’d give her some toys. I’m her aunt, right? I can’t be stood up by those Wayne hooligans. Or Ms. Quinn, for that matter.”

Tim rubbed the side of his face. “You never got Seer or Prophet anything nice like this.”

“Those birds are demonic,” was Pru’s excuse. “They came from the Demon’s Head. I would have gotten rid of them by now, but I know they grew on you, so now you’re stuck with them for life. I heard they live a long time, maybe even longer than cats, so good luck.”

Tim pocketed his phone after Prudence hung up. He lifted the basket and went back inside. As he did so, he smiled at the thought of Pru being cat-like. She left dead birds on his doorsteps, in a way… He should probably be thankful that she was too busy with Talia to be in Gotham too often.

—

Barbara’s eyes scanned the set of screens in front of her, her green eyes glazing over the cityscape as a twitching smile overtook her face. “Opening comm links. Patching RR in."

break - Frill - Red Robin (Comics) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Notes:

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Notes:

Chapter Text

References