Chapter Text
It was a Wednesday when Tim woke up in an unfamiliar living room, and felt most of the weariness that he was normally used to surprisingly gone. It was probably the best he slept in months, which was more surprising since he was on some random person’s sofa, which wasn’t really the conventional idea of comfort. Maybe he should be worried about the random person's sofa bit, especially since he couldn't remember shit, but his mind was relatively slow, not like the slowness you get when you're waking up and still half asleep, but the slowness your mind gets after you reach the drop from the peak after you’ve been high on drugs.
Drugged, he thought, he wasn’t drugged was he?
There was no way he got drugged and ended up here, right? He didn’t want to think about the possibilities of what happened during the time he was unconscious. Tim was busy overthinking whilst simultaneously panicking, when the memories of the previous night started flashing in his consciousness, like waves on the surface of water. Brief relief came to him, but that was quickly interrupted by the disturbing events from last night on the mission. He remembered Red Hood, and passing out in front of him and the knife that was plunged into his side, thrusted into the space below his ribcage, taking the breath out of his lungs-
Immediately, Tim clutched his side, taking note of the fact that his hands were quivering. He noticed that it was bandaged, and bandaged amazingly too, not Alfred’s level, but still great. After calming down (slightly) he looked around and quickly deduced that he was probably in one of Red Hood’s safehouses, if he was found by Bruce or Dick, then he would’ve been taken to the cave, and the cave’s infirmary didn’t look anything like the room that he found himself in. So, after finding out his relative whereabouts, the only question that remained was why would Jason willingly save him? He had the chance to, well, throw him off the roof of that building or something, or just have left him there. But no, Jason brought him to his safehouse, and bandaged his wound. It didn't make sense, nothing in his head right now did.
Maybe he was planning on torturing Tim later (I mean, what could he expect from Red Hood after that incident) perhaps he was using Tim’s injury as proof that he was incapable of keeping Robin. Now, don’t get him wrong, Tim wouldn’t mind giving Jason the mantle of Robin back, it was rightfully his anyway and Tim had practically blackmailed Bruce with the knowledge of their identities to give the mantle to him. He would gladly give it back in fact, it wasn’t that he hated being Robin, because honestly, he loved it, loved feeling like he meant something to someone out there, and he was gratefully he had a chance to be useful, even if it was just the amount of usefulness he gave was tiny, miniscule even. Robin was his only hope. He could hypothetically, maybe have a conversation with Jason, maybe if he grew the balls to even approach him.
But today was not the day for that conversation. Tim felt like the living incarnate of shit, and honestly, he would probably start crying if he would actually have to deal with the whole process of losing his only will to live today, no he was not being dramatic. So with the last of the strength he had left after that train of thought, he decided to rise from the sofa like a zombie from its grave, looked for his shoes, found them, put them on, and started walking in the direction of where his intuition thought the exit would be.
After walking for what seemed like hours (it was like 13 steps, but Tim feels like he got stabbed with a knife, maybe because he has, and is tired as fuck.) He stops in front of what appeared to be the door that led to the outside world, he was never so overjoyed at the thought of going outside, but the mere thought of freedom from his confinements -how exaggerated- was like a fresh breeze on his skin. He felt the metaphorical anvil weighing down on his chest slightly raise. Lifting his hand to unlock the first of two latches, why Jason needed two separate latches was unbeknownst to him, no taking chances ,Tim supposes, his escape was cut short by none other than Jason fucking Todd.
“Where the hell do you think you're off to Robin?” He started, Tim visibly flinched from his voice. “No one gave you permission to leave and I see you wincing in pain from the wound so don't you dare start spouting shit about being fine when I can see that you are so clearly not.”
Tim immediately shut his mouth, his rebuttal about staying erased from existence. What was with Jason and interrupting whatever Tim does? Tim obviously disagreed with Jason because he was capable enough to reach the Drake manor, probably, since he didn’t exactly know where the safehouse he was in right now was located. Jason’s words reflected and echoed in Tim’s head. Odd, he thought, it seemed like Jason cared. Probably not, he continued, Jason wouldn’t, his intentions are much too vague to start assuming now. But deep in his heart Tim doubted this reasoning, because it just didn't make any sense.
“Um, I was kinda gonna head out, i guess?”
Jason beckoned Tim to go back inside, his eyes sharp as if daring him to oppose, then he did a 180 and headed back into the living room.
Tim weighed his options, run out and get brutally murdered by Jason, or go inside, find out what Jason wants with him, and maybe get brutally murdered after that. In Tim’s head, one option was clearly on the winning side. Tim gathered up all his courage and reluctantly followed Jason further into the safehouse. He was aware of the fact that the exit was getting farther and farther with each and every step.