Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first few weeks of Tim’s imprisonment were filled with anxious anticipation.

He spun theories about why he was being held there. There seemed to be a larger plot going on. Something sinister, something to wreck the Batman using him. Tim was determined to stop them, or at least cause so much trouble they’d regret ever capturing him.

That proved very difficult to do from a dark cell.

His weapons had all been taken away but he was still in his Red Robin costume and Robin always had something up his sleeve. He fashioned a makeshift tool from his empty belt thinking that maybe if he could engineer the right kind of sustained tension on the glass and then suddenly release it the shock might be enough to shatter the surface. It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway, but he never got to find out because within hours of starting the project he was sedated and this time all of his costume was removed and he was left in only his thin underclothes.

“We will put you back in it when the time comes.” his hooded captor told him.

Tim filed that away. Spent the next several days constructing theories about what that could mean for his purpose here. The lack of clothes made him feel vulnerable and unrobinly. More like a unremarkable nobody. Tim shook that off and meditated for a while until he could shake off the feelings and not care too much about it. Still, it was a little cold. He scratched formulas for different escape methods he would make if he had the supplies into the metal of his cell with his fingernails.

Bruce was the greatest detective in the world. Surely soon he would find him and take him home. Would make the people who’d done this to him regret it. Sure he thought right now tim was dead, but that kind of falsehood couldn’t last forever. Tim wasn’t being harmed, he was just bored. All he had to do was be patient.

Even with Jason, the truth eventually came out. But Tim’s situation was different so it was unlikely to come to such extremes.

There was no way to tell the passage of time in the cell. It was dark save for a steady dim blue glow. He was fed, but he knew it was the bare minimum of what humans could survive on and it didn’t happen particularly regularly. His ribs started to show after a while but there was nothing Tim could do about it except eat the little food he was given.

There were two other cells in the room that were identical to the one Tim was in. They were each blank little rooms with nothing on the walls and no furniture that Tim might be able to leverage. There wasn’t even a toilet. That had actually caused a surprising amount of stress where Tim tried to hold it as long as he could, convinced he’d be given something or at least taken out to somewhere. He’d tried to ask, but either no one was surveilling him or they didn’t care.

Tim was more inclined to believe the latter.

At last he was forced to just use the corner of the cell and pray the waste wouldn’t breed sickness. He didn’t think his immune system already wasn’t worth much because of his missing spleen but with how little he was being fed… it was a real danger.

This lasted until the festering stink started to get to worrying levels. Then his food was drugged one day and when Tim woke up he was in the cell next to his damp from being hosed down. His previous cell was being cleaned thoroughly by robots and Tim watched with interest. If he could just get his hands on one he would probably be able to rewire it into something that could help him escape.

He was never in the same room as them though even when he was given food.

His hooded capture came to visit him occasionally and take pictures and measurements but even those visits were becoming less and less frequent. Tim tried to wheedle while the man was there, to get any information, but his captor seemed to take delight in keeping him in the dark. Apparently figuratively as well as literally.

It was a good thing, Tim mused, that it was him in this situation and not someone like Dick. He was pretty sure the sheer isolation would have already gotten to the older vigilante. Tim was actually having a bit of a hard time with it as well, but at least he had more practice with such things than Dick did.

Being left alone in a great big house over and over again while his parents went traveling all over the world had made him resistant these sorts of things. But at least then there had been books and games and the internet and chasing after Batman and Robin at night time. Here there was nothing. Tim wondered if this was his captors plan: a psychological torture by deprivation of simple kinds of needs and stimulations. But unfortunately that didn’t even seem to be the case. Tim being here didn’t actually seemed to have much to do with Tim at all but virtually everyone else besides him.

He’s had 312 meals in captivity when he starts thinking more and more about what might happen if he just… died here. Nothing, he realizes. Everyone else already thinks he’s dead. They’ve probably come up with ways to compensate for his absence already. Tim wonders if they had a funeral. What story Bruce gave to his father and stepmother. If he even cared or just went right back to business as usual.

Hopefully Bruce is doing alright. Tim knows he doesn’t handle grief well. The man had made a lifetime devotion after his parents death. Tim became Robin because of his inconsolable grief and anguish after Jason’s death. Damian’s death wrecked him and made him irrational and his own brand of pain filled madness till he’d resurrected him. It’s… tim doesn’t know what he expects or hopes for in response to his own death.

Tim mostly sits on the floor of his cell now. He’d rather pace, but standing makes him dizzy with hunger these days and he doesn’t want to fall. He tried to talk to the camera at least as an exercise to keep him more mentally stable, but talking too much makes him extremely thirsty and he’s only a certain ration of water. Tim knows he’s fainted a few times but everything looks exactly the same when he wakes up again that he has no idea how long he’s unconscious for.

Why hadn’t anyone come for him? If they’d even looked at his death even a little bit there would have been signs and inconsistencies that would have pointed to him possibly being still alive. If it had been anyone on Tim’s team he wouldn’t have let it alone until there was absolutely no loose ends or factor left unexplained. That’s how he had found Bruce when everyone thought the man was dead.

Even as his rational mind kept reeling trying to figure out why why why… the rest of him was unsurprised. There’d always been that little voice that said that no one really cared about Tim. That he was an inconvenience that people would rather just not think about. He’d been learning to keep that voice at bay, with the love of his new family and the Titans. But here in the dark… there was nothing else.

There was nothing else.

The Hooded man stopped coming. Stopped coming for so long. There was no one but the robots. He wondered if even his captors had forgotten him. He wouldn’t be surprised. Sure enough the robots shut down as well after another 50 meals or so and the lights finally flicker completely out.

Tim wonders if he’s already dead. Would he know? But he’s still in pain, so maybe not. He’s so thirsty. If he’s not dead yet, he won’t last more than a day or two more at most. The thought is a bit comforting: at least it’ll all be over then. It will be-

“What the fuck, it smells like sh- I’m gonna kill that fucker, there’s someone down here. Shit he’s still alive- Hey kid, can you hear me?”

There is only darkness.

Tim wakes up to pain- well, everywhere.

He doesn’t consciously decide to open his eyes but he knows when he does because there a sharper pain all of a sudden and he’s flinching and squeezing his eyes shut but even then it’s too much-

“Ah, I should have known the lights would be too much for you given where they were keeping you Replacement.” and it becomes easier to breathe as the lights are turned off even if a part of them wants to beg because he doesn’t want to be in the dark anymore, he doesn’t-

Replacement. Only one person calls him that.

Tim cautiously opens his eyes again and this time everything is in shadows. Specifically, one man shaped shadow next to him. Tim himself seems to be hooked up to a number of machines monitoring his vitals and giving him a steady drip of fluids. He might think that this was an elaborate hallucination brought on by his deteriorating psyche but… never once did he ever consider the person to rescue him would be-

“Jason.” Tim croaks and winces both from how raw his voice is from disuse and from the harsh sound of it.

“I honestly don’t know if you’re incredibly lucky or unlucky,” Jason muses, “The fucker who was keeping you locked up? We caught him a couple of months ago. You really ought to be dead for real. You would be except that I was going through all of his old hideouts making sure he didn’t have anything dangerous or problematic hidden away. I don’t care much for the surprises this guys has managed to pull out so far.”

“What-” Tim tried to ask, swallowed and swallowed and tried to work up enough spit- talking shouldn’t be this painful but every sound felt like literal shards of glass we being dragged against his the inside of his throat.

“Didn’t even recognize you till I had you all hooked up and was cleaning you up. Don’t know what I would have done if I had- called Golden Boy? I don’t know. You don’t exactly look like Tim Drake. But somethings…”

Jason’s fingers traced lightly over the scar that he put there. Tim flinched and tried not to whimper. It had been so long since he’d been touched by another human it almost hurt. It felt a bit like being electrocuted.

“Somethings can’t be faked all that easily. And some other things are so fucked up that you kinda just know they must be true.” Jason finished.

“How- lon-?” Tim croaked, not sure how he felt about- anything.

“You’ve been with me a week. You’ve been going in and out of consciousness and I actually wasn’t sure you’d even make it.” Jason commented, “How long were you down there? I’m not sure, but you’ve been gone for almost two years now.”

No. No.

“You should probably sleep some more. You need it and the horrors of life will still be right there waiting for you. Trust me, I have experience with this sort of shit.” Jason said.

“Don’ want…” Tim frowned, tried to explain that he didn’t want the darkness that he could already feel creeping into his senses.

Could he ever be free of it?

“I know Replacement, I know.”

When Tim next woke up he was more clear headed then he’d been in- frick, apparently almost two years. Tim couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t- nobody really would have come for him. Bruce- he couldn’t think about it.

He wasn’t sure what to make of Jason continuing to take care of him either.

“I don’t like you.” Jason had told him pretty early on, “You’re still the fucking creepy stalker and the pretender that stole my name twice . But I know most of that was on fucking B. I know that, but it still doesn’t mean I’m gonna like you. I’ll take care of you because I’m not a monster, but it won’t change anything.”

Which had made Tim cringe with old guilt. Even though he’d still do it all again in a heartbeat. Still though, he guessed they were even there: he hadn’t exactly forgiven Jason completely for what he’d done to Gotham or Bruce as the Arkham Knight, even if he had made some progress in his transition to Red Hood.

He would probably die without the uneasy truce though.

Jason immediately put him on a strict diet. It felt both like it wasn’t enough and was far too much. Tim hadn’t been much of a big eater before, he’d always seen food as something that he did to live and not much more now- Well, he had a new intimate appreciation for it but he couldn’t say he looked forward to mealtimes since Jason insisted on feeding him until he felt bloated 4 or 5 times a day even though he knew that the amount he was eating was still relatively small.

“Have you told Bruce I’m alive?” asked Tim at last.

“Hell no. This place would be crawling in Bats if I had.You can tell them yourself if you want to.” Jason made a face in the dim light. Tim still couldn’t do full lights, but they’d worked their way up to little Christmas lights Jason had found and blacked out windows. Candles would have worked too, but Jason made a comment about not wanting to smell like a perfume store all the time.

Tim was feeling stronger everyday, even if he didn’t quite feel like himself yet.

It was quite a shock then when on a day he was feeling particularly better Tim had tried get out of bed and his legs had refused to hold him.

“I figured it’d be something like this.” Jason sighed when he’d found Tim on the floor after he’d come back from a bloody patrol.

“I don’t understand, I feel so much better-” Tim started.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the fucking smart one? Accepted to an Ivy college and all that?” Jason snorted.

“I- what? I got accepted?” Tim blinked. He still hadn’t heard back from them at the time. Two years later and possibly legally dead that wasn’t much of an option anymore. He shoved those thoughts away.

“Look, you were in that tiny cell for more than a year and it looked like you hadn’t really been moving around all that much. When that happens? All those nice pretty muscles you weren’t using started to deteriorate.” Jason tapped his legs.

“Right… Atrophy, I-” Tim tried to raise himself even slightly and shook like leaf. He wished Jason wasn’t there to see it.

“Look, there’s stretches and exercises you can do that will get you back onto your feet. I can’t say exactly what you should expect since I was held for a shorter amount of time but was tortured by the fucking Joker the whole way. Still, for me it took almost a year of physical therapy to be walking around without a cane after being tied to that fucking chair-” Jason cut himself off and muttered something under his breath before grabbing one of Tim’s legs and shoving up the loose sweatpants he was borrowing to massage the muscles there.

Tim bit back a sound of pain but Jason was unsympathetic, kept working the knots in his calves till at last the tension Tim hadn’t even realized was there suddenly gave. He held back a sound but Jason ignored him and continued up his leg then repeated the process on the other. The feel of being touched , well, once Tim was slightly more used to it felt like a drug.

He he felt desperate to be touched all over and not particularly in a sexual ways just- for two years there’d been nothing. Nothing . And now-

“You’ll probably need to do that everyday even after we get you on your feet.” Jason said finally seeming satisfied with his work.

“Ok.” Tim answers not entirely sure how he felt about the whole ordeal. Frustrated, he decided, that his road to recovery would be even longer than he’d thought.

“I’m sure B will have even fancier toys meant to help get you back on the streets faster once you go running back to him.” Jason said his lip curling ever so slightly before fishing around in his pocket, “You’re strong enough for travel anyway so go ahead and call him up whenever.”

Tim stared at the burner phone Jason dropped into his lap.

All this time, all that silence and pain, and he could be back home . He might not be able to walk yet but like Jason said, Bruce would help him get stronger and there were plenty of things he could do to help with the Mission while he healed. Things could go back to how they were and this would just be another near death experience to add to the pile.

Tim frowned. There was a… resistance in him at that. An unpleasant taste in his mouth at the idea of calling his adoptive family. He ought to. And he ought to want to go back, and be happy about the prospect, or closing this chapter of his life… but the thing was Tim Drake Wayne still seemed like an odd dream he’d made up in that dark. Oh he remembered everything, had a clear concept of what kind of person he was and how he’d thought and felt about things. But everything felt detached.

He knew trauma wasn’t just some blanket that was shrugged off with a little effort. His life was filled with people who’d been transformed by trauma. For better or for worse. And some people like Jason who… Tim really wasn’t sure about.

Tim felt changed, but he wasn’t quite certain all the ways how. He was sure that he didn’t like the prospect of finding out about those changes at the Manor where if it turned out he had developed less than attractive emotional scars… maybe they wouldn’t really reject him if he didn’t fit the mold of the old Tim, but honestly he didn’t have a lot of faith in that which was a little worrisome.

He wouldn’t call them. Not yet at least. Not until he had a better sense of… everything.

“Can I get onto the web somewhere?” asked Tim at last. Jason glanced at him, though Tim doubted he’d ever taken his attention off of him. He quickly explained before Jason could say anything, “I’ve learned to never go into a conversation with Bruce blind because… well, you know how he is.”

“Everything important is in the context and not shit that he says?” Jason drawled slightly crossing his arms and looking generally unhelpful.

“I need to know what’s happened while I’ve been “dead” before he makes it so I can only see his version of… everything.” Tim said uncomfortably. Maybe it was a lifetime of practically worshipping Batman and Robin, but admitting more problematic things about Bruce had always been… hard. Especially when no one outside the family understood and everyone inside… well, they were in the same situation.

The look Jason game him for that was openly assessing. Then he simply nodded and went to grab Tim a laptop. Tim didn’t want to think about what it meant that this was the first time Jason hadn’t looked at him in some sort of disdain.

Tim lifted himself with shaking arms back onto the low bed. Even that small movement had him short of breath. Had him wanting to start the most punishing of physical training. Jason came back and dropped the computer next to him. For a moment, it looked like he might want to say something then his mouth hardened into a thinline and he simply took a seat on the other side of the room, absent of his usual barbed snark. Tim knew he was watching him very closely even so.

Ignoring his audience, Tim began to catch himself up to date on everything that had happened while he was gone.

The fiasco in Gotham had been resolved soon after he’d been taken out just like he’d known it would. There was no mention of anything happening to Red Robin though. Tim told himself that was better, that he was a symbol and symbols weren’t allowed to die. It was less easy to deal with the fact that Tim Drake Wayne had never had a funeral. That his father hadn’t even checked in the whole two years he was gone to realize something was wrong. Tim had always suspected that he was the only one maintaining their relationship- but no, Tim had chosen his real family a long time ago.

A real family which… also was pretending he never existed or died.

It got worse when he stopped reading the newspaper articles and hacked into the Watchtower reports. He’d expected them to adapt to his absence eventually. But this didn’t feel like adapting this felt like…

Replacing, a voice inside him that sounded an awful lot like Jason said.

The most significant effect his death seemed to have was that Stephanie seemed to have broken away from Bruce after it in a fit of anger. She was now in a relationship with Cas though and seemed to be moving on quite completely. Tim swallowed and tried not to begrudge her that. She was the only one though. The only one who visibly reacted to his death. The others went on business as usual.

Damian was expected. He hated Tim and he benefited most from his death. He was now the heir to the Wayne fortune. The Drake one too. He had Robin. He’d even been given Tim’s Titian’s. He had Tim’s family. Everything that had once belonged to Tim seemed to have just been handed over to Bruce’s blood son.

Dick was a sharp betrayal as was Babs. They ushered Damian in as if Tim had never existed. Quickly becoming caught up in their own drama and forgetting all about him.

Bruce was perhaps the most painful though. His partner, his father, his friend. Tim’s memories of what Bruce was like in the aftermath of one of his Robins being killed were stark and frightening. This though, there was nothing. No rage, no extra aggression, no altered behaviors as far as Tim could see how ever so slightly. Just raising Damian and playing happy families with the new Superman and his son. Did you even grieve for me at all?

There was nothing nothing NOTHING and Tim could feel the chill and darkness and emptiness of his cell closing in around him.

“How could they do this?” Tim said after searching and searching for something.

Jason’s focused was laser sharp on him and tim wondered what sort of face he was making.

“They can’t just- It’s not even like I died it’s like they erased me. Pretended I didn’t exist and gave everything to that murdering brat. And nobody came- I don’t understand why nobody came !” Tim choked. He told himself to calm down. This was premature. He needed to do more research. A few hours wasn’t enough to- He took several deep breaths. It didn’t do anything to calm the chaos inside of him. The creeping numbness around the edges.

Jason stared at him a long while after his outburst before huffing out a small laugh.

“You know, some part of me really thought the old man would have learned his lesson about declaring a Robin dead without a body. Guess not.” Jason said humorlessly.

“He likely thought the high temperature of the explosion destroyed my body.” Tim said stiffly, unable to help but try and defend his - their- mentor.

“Oh yeah?” Jason raised an eyebrow, “You and I both have found enough patch job serial killers to know that bones don’t burn so much as become extremely breakable and easily crushed. And unless you were wearing some cheap knock-off of a costume, most of it should have been left since B always made that shit practically fucking lava proof because of all the metas and crazies with flamethrowers Gotham’s got under her skirts. Unless those baddies stripped you naked when they took you and left the costume?”

“...They only left my staff.” Tim admitted, and- this is what he’d been telling himself over and over in his cell. That they would come because there were so many clues, that- “I don’t understand. Bruce- all of the- they’re detectives Jason. If anyone, anyone , had looked even a little bit closer it would have been obvious that I hadn’t died there. Or at least that someone had taken my body. I don’t- It doesn’t-”

Tim gave a tiny growl of frustration and firmly didn’t look at Jason.

“Ah but kid, you’re forgetting one tiny detail.” Jason snorted bitterly, and Tim looked up because, well, “ kid” not “replacement” or “pretender” or anything else deragaty, “You see, the thing about Bruce is he is fucking brilliant, but he can’t fucking make himself see shit that doesn’t add to his Mission. I realized that when he left me to rot under Arkham. Sure, Joker had covered a lot of his tracks, but there were still so many obvious loose end and B just decided after a bit to stop looking. Because you see, alive we’re actually a barrier to the Mission, something that would distract his attention from the real evils that needed to be fought. But dead…”

“We become symbols.” Tim closed his eyes around the pain, “Something to punish Bruce and drive the Mission even further.”

“And there are always more soldiers.” Jason said looking right at him and-

“That…” Tim shook his head slightly, but he couldn’t dislodge the idea. He’d always been a little sympathetic to Jason’s viewpoint, but he had also been so sure he was ultimately wrong in all his conclusions. Still wrong on some, Tim firmly reminded himself thinking of the havoc the other had wrecked on Gotham. He’d thought it a childish temper tantrum at the time. Now he could see a little bit more how it made sense. How Bruce had to be forced to see how fucked up what he was doing was. But there had to be another way other than what Jason had tried.

“They’d been sidelining you for a while.” Jason noted, “They clearly wanted the demon brat to come into his his own and they knew he couldn’t do that fully with you around. Can’t live into his potential with you around. Even Goldie wanted it. They were all to polite to push through.”

Jason didn’t know, Tim realized, didn’t know why tim had become Red Robin. That he’d been forcefully pushed from his place as Robin, not because he was failing in anyway but because they decided they wanted Damian to have it. Tim had thought he’d gotten through his bitterness over that. He liked being Red Robin, albeit it was something else he’d stolen from Jason, but apparently the older wound had just been sitting. Waiting to be infected by something like this.

“It’s always nice to know how disposable we are to them, isn’t Replacement?” Jason said with a sharp grin that promised pain to someone.

“Jason?” Tim tensed.

“Don’t worry though, we’re gonna prove them all wrong again.” Jason said with steal in his eye.

“...We?” Tim almost laughed even though this was far from funny.

“I’m going to. And you telling me you’re going to go crawling back under their shoes after all this?” Jason said his tone daring.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I can’t go back just yet, no.” Tim admitted.

“So you do see.” Jason’s grin was triumphant and already calculating.

“This isn’t my villain origin story Jason.” Tim shot back glaring.

“Nah, who need that?” Jason said, “It is the beginning of something though, don’t you think?”

Tim covered his face with his hand and laughed humorlessly.

“Yeah,” He admitted, “Something.”

Chapter Text

Tim fell down. Again.

He wanted to be walking again already. Heck, he wants to be out on the street again. There’s an itch under his skin that he’s had since first saw Batman and Robin swing across the night as a child and it hasn’t faded a bit even now. As it is, his muscles were a wreck and even with the grueling physical therapy Jason has been putting him through, Tim is still as shaky as a newborn deer on legs. He was perfectly aware that healing didn’t happen all in a moment, but the idea of just sitting and doing nothing made him feel sick.

Perhaps it was being locked in an isolated cell for 2 years, but times of boredom- those idle nothing moments of waiting between activities- felt a bit like death.

He’d had his character growth, thank you very much. He’d like to get his life back now. Or at least have the ability to make a new one. As it was, he still felt so helpless almost all the time. He wasn’t a prisoner anymore, but he was hardly free to do what he wanted.

“Sit your ass down junkie.” Jason said impatiently grabbing him by his sweatshirt and hoisting him up easily. Not like Tim weighed much at the moment but it was still aggravating. Tim instinctively kicked out when he was grabbed and he barely contained a yelp as the blow connected.

Jason dumped him on the couch with an unimpressed look.

“Didn’t B ever teach you not to go for moves that would hurt you more than your opponent?” He scoffed.

“Don’t pick me up.” Tim snapped back instead.

“Right,” Jason turned away from him, “I’ll just leave you to crawl around on the floor then next time, noted.”

“Fuck off.” Tim couldn’t help but shoot back. Normally he had a much better temperament but lately… No, he could keep his cool. Jason was the one person who was still around and helping him. Who hadn’t forgotten. He suspected it was in part because Tim’s life was a bit of a raging garbage fire right now and Jason was enjoying watching things burn.

He was the person Bruce had replaced Jason with. With that he’d guaranteed that Jason would always have an eye on him, if only to watch him fail.

Still, Tim couldn’t afford to lose him as an ally. Even if he strongly suspected that Jason liked him better when he got mad. His healing was a slow aggravating thing and he needed Jason till he could at least walk around on his own. However, Tim was considering staying even after he was physically independent. His face wasn’t that famous, but if he went out in public particularly in the area where Red Hood was thought to be lurking- he knew that Bruce kept tabs on such things- then he was eventually going to be found.

If Tim was found, it would be on his terms. That much he had already decided.

The worst were days when Tim’s energy failed him before it was time or he found some new skill that he was rusty at now and all he was able to soak in the helplessness of it all. Whenever that happened it was quickly followed by a cold numbness and apathy. Nothingness. Tim pushed back on it strongly whenever he recognized he was disassociating. He’d had 2 years of that he was done.

Being useless grated on his nerves and made it harder to keep the numbness at bay. He’d wanted to try and stand a little longer today even if it was just with the support of the couch, but it looked like that wasn’t happening. That didn’t mean he was resigned to his fate. Never that. Stretching out his foot, Tim caught the edge of the rolling computer chair he’d been using to get around the safehouse and dragged in closer to him so he could climb on and begin pushing himself to the kitchen.

The chair had been a lifesaver. He probably should get a wheelchair, but his pride was a fickle thing. Somehow it felt better to push himself around on the rolling chair. The tile of the kitchen was cool and nice on his feet and Tim took a moment to jest appreciate the fact that he could have this now. Different textures, temperature, even his limited mobility. He was frustrated and bitter, but not wholly ungrateful for the things he had managed to gain.

Jason was busy making them a light meal before he left for patrol. Tim had tried to assist, but a few small fires later he had been banned from touching the stove, toaster, or the microwave. He thought about apologizing for earlier, but he knew Jason wouldn’t be interested in hearing it. The other man didn’t particularly care if Tim was happy or unhappy with his current state of being, just what he planned to do about it.

“ With words people lie and lie and lie, ” Jason had told him at one point, “ Watch what people do. That’s where you should lay your money.”

Like the way Bruce says he’s sorry about what happened to Jason but he didn’t alter his behavior at all and let it happen again.

The thought was unbidden and unwelcome. Thoughts like that happened more and more these days though,

“You better have eaten this by the time I get back because there’s going to be another meal for you then.” Jason said briskly dropping a plate of food on the table for him and continuing to walk around carrying his own plate as he got ready for the night.

“I was thinking of manning the comms again tonight.” Tim said lightly. Conversationally.

“Don’t really give a fuck what you do, kid.” Jason said walking past again to pull something out of a cupboard, examine it, then put it right back and wander off again.

“I can keep Bruce and Barbara off your feeds and locations. Or at least, feed them enough misinformation that what they do gather is useless.” Tim said picking at his food.

Jason grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ll also let you know if I find anything you should know about.” Tim added.

“Interfere too much and B is gonna realize pretty fast there’s someone doing computer shit for me and investigate.” Jason pointed out.

“I’ll be sure to drop morbid clues about the truth then.” Tim said dryly. That got a smile out of Jason. It felt a bit like a victory.

“Good way to wake up with him looming over your bed.” Jason snorted.

“Something all of us who have been Robin are totally unfamiliar with, to be sure.” Tim said sarcastically.

“You’re the one who willingly sought out this madness. Me? I got kidnapped by the Bat.” Jason said, though there was still a hint of dark amusement there.

Tim only hummed in reply.

“Later then.” Jason finally grabbed he helmet and messed up Tim’s hair on the way out. Tim sighed and flattened it back down as best as he could. In two years his hair had made it just past his shoulders. The moment he’d been able to he’d taken a pair of scissors to it and hacked it off inelegantly. Jason had refused to help because he seemed to get amusement out of the impossible mess it was as a result. Tim considered just shaving it off but then he’d have to buy a hat to keep his head warm and Tim really hated being cold these days.

Eating was… difficult. He didn’t really want to and his stomach often protested he did. Still, Tim knew that he wouldn’t be able to go back on the streets until he’d managed to put on some more weight and build up strength so he couldn’t really even dump the food in the trash now that he wasn’t being watched. Or he could, but it’d just be self sabotage in the long run. At least Jason turned out to be a decent cook.

Soon enough though he was grabbing his plate and rolling back to the computer where he’d try and continue to pick at his food through Jason’s patrol… and his own research.

“What are you up to Bruce…?” Tim murmured to himself. By all accounts, Batman was in the middle of an investigation on Clayface. A nearly apocalyptic run in with magic users and demons that had been not so neatly tied up and shoved to the side anyway. Drama with allies once again.

“Busy busy busy…” Tim muttered carefully cataloging each event, the time it had taken to respond, what Batman had done to neutralize the threat, how he had tied up the loose ends once the immediate danger was past -that part was almost always nothing or left up to the police. Sloppy - and what interpersonal relationship he was in the process of messing up or negotiating.

Dick was a mess as usual. Falling in and out of beds he shouldn’t be in and getting hopelessly compromised and taken advantage of again and again. Quickly followed up by Bruce confronting him and Dick punishing himself even further, getting starved for affection and promptly falling into another lovers arms. An endless cycle on repeat. Barbara seemed to be doing slightly better. Her coping mechanism for dealing with Bruce seemed to be drawing further and further away as the years past.

“Careful Bruce,” Tim said to himself as he added to his notes, “They’ll end up hating you on some level at this rate. More so if you make it so they can’t leave you.”

Duke was largely left to his own devices these days. With Batman occasionally, but mostly not. Which socially was probably alright.Tim supposed it would give him a better chance at not internalizing many of the issues inherent to working with Batman. But more importantly-

“He’s going to get killed one of these days if you don’t train him with the same intentionality you once gave us, Bruce.” Tim frowned and tapped at his lip with his pen.

Damian was also left unsupervised most of the time which was much more worrisome. He traveled across the country and sometimes the world and confronted supervillians on his own or with a few of his friends. Or with the Titans. He took charge with a vengeance in the groups he was in, but his methods were still that of a clumsy boy trying to figure out what he believed.

“God, Bruce, if you’re never around to guide him what’s going to stop Damian from becoming a villain himself one day?” Tim said in frustration. Dick was a bigger mentor to him and he barely saw the kid. Of course, the kid was working with many of the structures Tim had painstakingly built himself so he did have it easier in that respect. Still the fact that he was even trying to replace Tim- no, that the others were practically encouraging him to do so-

Ignoring that, ignoring that, Tim told himself. Not relevant at the moment. Keep it as impersonal as possible. That’s how he was going to make the most effective plan.

Stephanie was actually clashing with Bruce the most. Tim’s death was still a sore spot between them though it wasn’t acknowledged much. She had moved on, was dating Cass, but she was also continually pushing and pushing and pushing the limits of what Batman would accept and tolerate.

“You’re on your way to becoming an anti-hero Steph.” Tim laughed under his breath.

What a thought.

Tim toyed with the idea of calling her again. Out of all of them, she had been one of the only ones to really acknowledge Tim’s death. She had’t searched for him, but then she was never supposed to be a detective either. It wasn’t her responsibility to notice and Tim didn’t expect her to.

Even after the fiasco with Jason, they still implicitly trusted Bruce’s word when he pronounced someone death without a body. Tim had been aware that there was a certain level of patrimonialism within the Bats, but he hadn’t realized it had gotten this bad. The fact that while small forms of disagreement and fights were frequent, none of the major policies or rules set by Bruce were allowed to be even questioned much less acted upon. If they were, you became forever an outcast like Jason… Like Tim would be soon too.

“A cult of personality,” Tim snorted bitterly. Or, not quite if you were going to get technical about it. But close enough to be deeply uncomfortable.

“ Birdy, wanna let me know who the shit stains I’m looking at are? ” Jason’s voice came through the coms.

“One moment.” Tim said pulling up the video feed from Jason’s helmet. He grimaced at the bloody swollen faces and began running them through the system, “You know this would be a lot easier if you didn’t take quite so many head shots.”

“ They deserved it .”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Tim mildly clicking a few more keys before- “Got them. Or at least a few. They seem to be some kind of muscle for hire… most already in trouble with the law for petty theft or violence- Ah, but they all live within 3 blocks of this bar that often serves as a pickup site for less reputable jobs.”

“ Hmm, maybe I’ll pay the bar a little visit and see if I can’t find out about their scumbag employer. ” Jason said, and Tim could hear the smile and promise of violence in his voice.

“Perhaps so.” Tim hummed and- he couldn’t say what was in his own voice. And what the fact that Tim was aware of what Jason would do to that questionable crew… what that had to do with the smile on his face. Tim carefully blanked his expression even though there was no one to see-

It would be outside of the protocol for the Bat. But not, Tim was realizing, outside his own lines.

“Just make sure you leave someone to interrogate.” Tim said, “I’ll try to find out more as well.”

“ Feel free to ignore me if it gets too much for you. ” Jason said mockingly. Tim sighed. Jason didn’t kill for killing's sake. Tim wouldn’t be willingly working with him if he did. He didn’t even do it for the sake of a bigger plan either these days. Much of that had died with the Arkham Knight. He did punish crime rather than merely prevent it though. But Jason had always shown to be acutely aware of the way many of the criminals they encountered were also a product of still greater violence being enacted upon them. They were still punished for their actions, but not with the same severity Jason reserved for the true perpetrators.

There would be nothing to turn away from tonight. No criminals at the bar that Jason was likely to encounter that would deserve a more severe punishment according to Jason’s personal code. It was both a relief and something that troubled Tim. Were these feelings of approval new? Some response to being a victim of intense trauma himself? But no, Tim comforted himself with the fact that he’d always been extremely introspective. His thoughts and feelings on Jason’s brand of protocol was nowhere near new.

Still, every deviation from Bruce’s views left him jumpy. Was he succumbing to the oh so terrible sin of being affected by his experiences? His critical thinking and judgment cast into doubt because he had been through an ordeal? Such human weakness was something Bruce did not tend to allow for- or have anything but disgust for- in himself. In the face of that obvious sentiment, there was never permission for it in any of the Robins. Even if Bruce said differently verbally at times. Even now, thought that his own beliefs and conclusions might not be trustworthy- that he may be broken a useless somehow in more than just the physical sense- filled Tim with self-loathing.

Even though he was fairly certain those thoughts were untrue, it didn’t stop them from having an effect.

In an effort to reckon with his feelings about Jason and his choices, Tim had started to pick out Red Hood’s targets. It felt a little bit like reclaiming some moral control. That he was somehow engineering encounters. Something that he knew to be an especially dangerous illusion to fall into. Particularly because Jason was in many ways proud to be a loose cannon.

He took the leads, Tim suspected, in part to turn Tim’s expectations on their head. And boy did he. But it was good. It was good. So good Tim could feel it in his bones. A shiver of… something. Everytime Jason did something particularly unexpected Tim felt almost giddy. And fearful. And- it was like they were playing so weird game sometimes. A fun one at that. And when was the last time that was allowed?

Tim had been alone in many ways long before he was locked in that cell.

He feared the feelings Jason managed to tease out of him as much as he was intrigued. Everyday that passed made the idea of being Red Robin again more unthinkable. And the alternative… Well, the things that had been a hard ‘NO’ within him still were, but… a grey area was starting to emerge. Clearer everyday. Tim almost wished realization could be put off a little longer. He knew once he owned up to the change it would redefine much of his identity.

Sometimes Tim could feel it; the eyes of a new mask watching him. Waiting for him. Unnamable because of the way it would make it real. He wouldn’t be able to put it off for much longer though. Even now, denial felt like lie he was waiting to be freed from.

Stealing himself, Tim stood again on shaky legs and raised the desk so he could lean on it. His eyes flickered to the time for a moment. He knew the longest he’d managed to stand in the past and his goal had been to try and break that record today… Resolutely he planted himself in front of the computer and continued to work, carefully dissociating enough that the fatigue and pain of his limbs were easily tuned out. It was a meditative technique he’d picked up from Bruce (Dick called it willfully self-destructive. He might not be wrong) but Tim was grateful for it now.

He was so immersed in his work, he didn’t immediately perceive when Jason returned.

“Junkie.” Jason said right behind him.

Only years of living with Alfred kept Tim from jumping.

“You’ve called me that before. Care to share why? Or is this just going to be my new nickname without any sort of explanation?” Tim asked without turning around.

“Because you’re a junkie, Junkie.” Jason snorted and Time heard the thump of his helmet being set down.

“How illuminative.” Tim said dryly.

“Turn around and tell me that.” Jason said.

“Honestly Jason.” Tim said slightly exasperated, “I’m not trying to pick a fight.”

“Just fucking do it.” Jason said.

Tim started to- if only to give Jason a look- but the moment he tried to turn around he nearly tipped over as his legs refused to unlock and the screaming ache of his body made itself known all at once. He would have had difficulty keeping upright if Jason hadn’t steadied him with a hand on his back and a bored look… before easily shifting him and tipping him to fall backward onto the couch. Tim tried to twist, but his body wasn’t having even that.

He hit the cushions on his back with a thump.

“That’s why you’re a junkie.” Jason said pointedly.

“Ah- noted.” Tim winced and tried to bend his knees to sit up. Couldn’t.

“Ask.” Jason said- no, ordered.

“...help?” Tim sighed and looked away. Jason reached out and gripped his face in a painful grip and turned it so he could study it before nodding almost to himself. Tim worked off his sweatpants enough that Jason could yank them off his feet.

It was always a strange feeling. To have Jason kneeling at his feet. To have strong steady hands start to work the muscles on his legs. They could technically do this through the sweats but… it was better this way. Not just because it was easier. But because Tim suspected that Jason needed touch unconnected with violence almost as much as Tim did. Jason might not have been locked in a cell, but he was still touch starved from his own self imposed isolation.

Neither of them brought it up. The same way neither of them ever suggested Tim start sleeping on the couch.

“You’re such a pain in the ass sometimes.” Jason glared at him, “You’re going to fuck up your own recovery just so you can prove some shit about strength or whatever the hell it is you’re trying to do.”

“I’m not going to fuck up my recovery.” Tim said hissing a bit as his calves cramped up painfully before Jason hands were forcing his body to give up the tension and relax. Tim groaned a bit a slumped into the cushions and let his eyes flutter close. He couldn’t have resisted if he wanted to.

He could feel Jason watching intently.

“You’re on ice packs tonight.” Jason told him gruffly at last, “Tomorrow I don’t want you getting up for anything short of needing to take a piss, you hear me? The only exercises I want you doing are the small weights from your chair.”

“Got it.” Tim agreed easily.

He could feel Jason’s suspicion without even looking at him.

“Seriously Jason, I won’t try to walk tomorrow.” Tim said opening his eyes and sighing, “I beat my record, that’s all I wanted to do today.”

“You’re so fucking-”

“In fact,” Tim interrupted, “If you could pass me the computer I need to send something.”

“What?” asked Jason suspiciously even as he stretched to grab the computer.

“Mmm, every time I hit a new milestone I send Bruce a test.” Tim hummed setting the computer on his stomach and beginning to type.

Jason’s hands, which had returned to his legs stilled tellingly.

Well, it wasn’t like Tim was planning to keep it a secret. Besides, he’d need Jason his side a little more officially eventually.

“The first couple tests are to reaffirm that Bruce is willfully ignoring the evidence pointing to the fact that I am alive.” Tim said very aware that he had 100% of Jason’s attention.

“Dangerous. He could figure out the truth that way.” Jason said, his eyes sharp.

“Indeed,” agreed Tim, “I always want to allow Bruce the opportunity of success and improvement. Batman is, after all, a very important force and improvement is a positive thing for Gotham overall. I have many tests lines up, depending on his success and failure in those tests- and the methodology employed- I have prepared different courses of action.”

“Tests…” Jason’s gaze was narrow and suspicious, he he had the right to be, “What exactly does that entail?”

“At the moment? I have been bringing his attention to cases wherein there was a victim who died supposedly in scenarios similar to mine. Especially meant to highlight the inconsistencies in evidence and deduction. The tests after that are meant to asses his responses to situations where he has historically failed to determine to what measure he has learned from his mistakes.” Tim said holding eye contact, “I will not create crimes or situations, but I have no qualms in orchestrating the types of situations that come to Bruce’s attention and when.”

Jason snorted softly under his breath. He wouldn’t have missed that that was an unsubtle dig at his own attempts to get Bruce to own up to his failures. It wasn’t meant to be. If Tim was going to win Jason over in any truly meaningful way he was going to have to be upfront and honest with him from the start. Jason did not respond well to deceptive manipulation.

It would be far to familiar to both of them from Bruce.

“So what’s your end goal?” Jason asked going back to rubbing Tim’s legs. They were mostly good now, but it still felt amazing so Tim wouldn’t stop him.

“That’ll depend greatly on Bruce’s ability to demonstrate that he can learn from his mistakes.” Tim said shrugging.

“Don’t avoid the question you manipulative little shit,” Jason said. He said it amused, almost fond. But it came with a warning press at a joint that made Tim wince.

“Well…”

“What happens when Bruce proves you right?” Jason rephrased his question, “When he proves he’s a stubborn fuck that won’t bend on the important stuff?”

“Then… I will be recovered and hopefully retrained with your help,” Tim said watching Jason’s expression carefully, he didn’t look surprised so Tim plowed on, “And I will begin making my real moves.”

“Yeah? What’s that going to be?” Jason asked.

“Making Bruce and other members face up to the evidence that I have complied.” Tim said.

“Hah, that’s not going to work.” Jason snorted looking a little disappointed.

“Oh I didn’t say I was going to be doing it by talking to them.” Tim smiled bitterly, “We both know none of them respond best to that.”

“Yeah?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“The end goal, as you called it, is for Dick to remove Damian from Bruce’s household and begin training him himself.” Tim said simply. He took some pleasure in the surprise on Jason’s face.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Jason blinked.

“Everything. If Bruce cannot prove he is capable or willing to make significant change then Damian can not remain as his primary influence. I will admit that I immensely dislike the kid, but I also have no desire to have to take him down as a super villain one day. Especially when the situation is completely avoidable. Dick has proven to be the most effectively positive influence in Damian’s life and- against the odds- Damian has also been a steadying force in Dick’s life as well.” Tim explained, “Now of course I will not be telling this to any of them. They have to realize it for them self. Dick especially, who has been the most thoroughly conditioned under Bruce’s doctrine, needs willingly choose to go against Bruce himself.”

Jason whistled slightly and sat back. Tim could tell he was assessing him in a whole new light.

“Of course, I don’t intend to leave Bruce to his own devices. That never ends well,” Tim continued, “Batman needs a Robin. I have always believed that and I still do. However, Robin need not be totally swallowed up by Bruce. In Damian’s absence, I will arrange for Duke to take a much bigger role. He needs the extra training, but he is old enough that Bruce won’t be able to take over his whole world. Bruce’s explicit failure in regards to both yours and my own “deaths” should shake up his faith sufficiently as well. He will always question. It should serve as a healthy check on Batman.”

“You’ve thought of everything then?” Jason mocked a little.

“Hardly.” Tim said honestly with a little smile, “Many of my plans still need plenty of fine tuning and research still. If you were willing, I was hoping you could speak into some of them.”

Jason tapped at Tim’s leg as he stared at him shrewdly. Tim wondered if the other was even aware of what he was doing it.

“You want me in on this maddness?” Jason said slowly.

Tim nodded, hoping the honesty in his face would be enough.

“What’s to keep you from manipulating my ass the way you plan to everybody else's?” snorted Jason, his eyes bitter, “How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all Jason.” Tim said simply, “I think you’ve proven yourself to be a very skilled strategist and I want you as my partner.”

“Partner.” Jason repeated incredulously.

“Not like Batman and Robin are partners. I want to work with you as an equal.” Tim said honestly.

“Really.”

“I don’t expect you to believe me just yet.” Tim admitted, “And I won’t promise that I would ever manipulate you. But I will always be honest about it. I can give you that much.”

“How generous.” Jason said flatly.

Tim sighed.

“Say I agreed to this madness.” Jason said after a moment, “What exactly would I be calling you, ‘partner’?”

“I-” Tim closed his eyes.

Felt the hollow eyes of the mask watching him. Waiting for him.

“The Albatros.” he said quietly. Felt the way the truth shifted beneath his skin. Sunk it’s claws in.

“Those fucking giant white birds?” Jason raised an eyebrow, “You sure you’re not compensating for something?”

“No, I-” Tim snorted, “I admit I was thinking more Coleridge.”

“Ah,” Jason actually looked thoughtful and Tim was reminded of all the literature book and poetry that he had found in Jason’s room at the Manor, “All hope if visited by one or sin and punishment if you kill or get rid of one?”

“Er- something like that.” admitted Tim flushing a bit.

“Huh,” muttered Jason getting up and striding to the kitchen.

“What are you-?” Tim asked cautiously.

“I’ll think about it.” Jason cut him off, “You’re still fucking crazy in my books, got it?”

“Ah, noted.” Tim winced.

“Now it’s time for you to eat again so fucking prepare yourself.” Jason said warningly.

“Oh god.” Tim cringed slightly.

Jason smirked and began to work. As he did so, Tim realized he was reciting the Rime of the Ancient Mariner from memory. Tim closed his eyes and listened.

“ Ah! well a-day! what evil looks

Had I from old and young!

Instead of the cross, the Albatross

About my neck was hung.”

Chapter Text

“29… 30.”

Tim took a moment to center his balance on the slackline on one foot before stepping off of it onto the floor again. He rolled his foot experimentally. There was the expected amount of fatigue- he had been doing these exercises for an hour- but there was no pain. Tim allowed himself a small triumphant smile.

“Stretch it out.” Jason ordered tonelessly from the other side of the room. Tim schooled his expression back into something neutral and flowed into his stretches. He reminded himself that just because Jason looked like he was focused on sharpening his various knifes, didn’t mean that he wasn’t paying close attention to Tim’s exercises as well.

The stretches felt good after his brief workout. His stamina was still small and his skills rusty, but he was still reveling in his ability to have this again. Jason was even sparring with him a little these days. Short, brutal, matches that usually ended in Tim pinned and frustrated while Jason enjoyed watching him struggle. Sparring with Jason more than a little humbling though. Not only had he been trained under Batman, he’d also been trained by Death Stroke and several other masters around the world as he built up his power before coming back to Gotham for his show down.

Jason was less than impressed with Tim’s skill level, recovery or no recovery.

“God, it’s a wonder no one took you out for real.” Jason had said with disgust, as he threw Tim after he forgot to take into account the correct angle of his strike.

“It’s not like I was this weak before.” Tim had protested.

“No,” Jason had agreed, “Worse, you were over confident. You barely spent any time with Bruce before you were running all over with your different teams.”

He had a point, though Tim still didn’t think he was being fair. He didn’t think Jason would respond well to talk about fairness though so he didn’t press it.

They were there because the world wasn’t fair.

“I’ll get you some teachers.” Jason had told him, “You better work your ass off with them too. Plan or no plan you’ll never be of use to anyone if you’re so easy to kill.”

“You won’t teach me?” Tim had asked.

“Hell no,” Jason had scoffed, “You’d just piss me off and then I’d have to beat the shit out of you.”

Tim had laughed, perhaps because he knew it was true. He looked forward to the day when he and Jason could have a real spar on equal footing.

“So what nefarious plans do you have for tonight?” Jason drawled once Tim finished stretching.

“Keeping Oracle busy. Seeing if I can coax Dick back into Gotham proper.” Tim shrugged.

“Just give him a trail of cereal or something.” Jason grumbled, “Fucker still acts like he’s five about some shit.”

“I was thinking more of case that crossed city boarders.” Tim hummed as he stripped out of his sweaty clothes and into fresh ones.

“What kind of case?” Jason asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched him.

“I have a couple in mind,” Tim said settling at the computer, “But I suppose it’ll depend on which one I think I can get Robin involved in too.”

“No more cases with kids.” Jason said shortly. Tim paused: there was no room for argument there, “You find any of those sorts of fucked up cases you give them straight to me, you hear me?”

“Jason…” Tim started to comment and then thought better of it, “Yes, I will do that.”

Even if that meant there would be a lot more bodies of child predators turning up. Tim had always sort of looked away when monsters like that met their due end. It made him uncomfortable to give them to Jason out right, but he was learning everyday that he was more morally grey than he’d thought.  

He hadn’t expected Jason to struggle so much with the tests he’s set up for Bruce: There was the young Firefly victim who had died at temperatures similar to Tim’s that required Bruce to find clues from the remainder of the corpse. Or there had also been the child of a rival gang that had their death faked so their enemies could use the kid later against their parents. There had been several other similar scenarios. Jason had been so agitated that they had to wait and see if Bruce could solve the mystery when the perpetrators were right there. Tim had had to promise that if Bruce didn’t figure it out in time that Jason was allowed to step in. The time in-between had Jason brutalizing criminals on the street and scratching at brand on his face in agitation when he was home.

With other types of criminals, Jason seemed to have much more patience for the mind games Tim wanted to set up.

“I still think you decided to focus on Dick-head since your stalker ass has never been able to leave him alone.” Commented Jason.

“Well Dick is the prettiest.” Tim said in his poshist voice before shaking his head with a small smile, “Dick may have started my obsession, but I spent the most time following and taking pictures of you . I was still to young and clumsy to be able to keep up very often back then. Dick was my obsession, but you were my Robin. The one I always wanted to live up to.”

Jason didn’t respond to that. Tim didn’t expect him to.

“Dick is working very hard on getting himself killed though these days,” Tim swore under his breath as he read the latest reports. Fulltime officer, fulltime vigilante, fulltime lover, and fulltime son was not working out for Dick. He was running on empty. Tim considered having Dick discreetly injured before dismissing the idea. There was too much risk some thug might take advantage of the situation if Dick was helpless for even a moment.

“You probably don’t need to do anything, the Bat is going to bench his ass soon enough anyway.” Jason sneered.

“He’s already tried.” Tim said pulling up the transcripts from the last Batman/Nightwing fight to show Jason, “Dick’s not having it. He’s determined to work himself to death.”

“Golden Boy not coming when Daddy calls… ha, see something new everyday.” Snorted Jason derisively.

“It does make getting him in Gotham significantly more difficult.” Tim grumbled pulling up a few new possible cases to hook Dick into.

“Really though, birdy.” Jason knocked lightly on Tim’s head, “Why are you focusing so much on Goldie? Robin is clearly the weak link here. Even that Duke kid needs a hell of a lot more work before he’s going to be anywhere other than another pretender.”

“I thought the goal of this was no more dead Robin’s?” Tim said raising an eyebrow.

“Your goal maybe.”

“Oh? So you’d be fine if I put the 10 year old in danger?” Tim pretended to think about it, “He did always piss me off.”

“You make too many fucked up jokes like that and I’ll take your head off your shoulders, birdy.” Jason said smoothly wrapping a hand around Tim’s throat and stroking lightly.

“I won’t hurt him.” Said Tim leaning into the touch despite its threat. Or perhaps because of it. He let Jason see his eyes, let him see the truth there, “I want to protect kids just as much you do. We’re doing this so Bruce doesn’t end up killing the boy again or create a super villain we have to take down later.”

“So you say.” Jason said.

“It’s the truth. You know it is.” Tim said simply.

“It is today,” Jason agreed stroking his throat ever so slightly, “But will it always be? What happens if killing a kid works for the greater good? Hmm, what sorts of things with that liar mouth of yours decide to tell me then?”

“If I ever become that much of a monster then you have my permission to kill me.” Tim said simply.

“I imagine if you’d make sure I couldn’t.” Jason countered.

“I think trying to control you would go very badly for me.” Tim admitted truthfully.

“You’ll try though.” Jason accused.

“I’ll do my best not to.” Tim shrugged, "I imagine you’ll enjoy smashing up my efforts very much when I mess up though.”

“Ha,” Jason said letting go of his throat.

“Jason,” Tim grabbed his hand before he got very far.

Jason regarded him with a blank expression, the light from the computer casting his scarred face in shadow.

“Part of why I want you to be my partner,” Tim said slowly, “Is that I know you will have no problem taking me down if I fall too far.”

“And if I fall?” inquired Jason.

“You won’t see me coming.” Promised Tim gravely.

Jason squeezed Tim’s wrist and for a moment his eyes were hard to look away from though Tim couldn’t say what feeling they were burning into him.

“You know,” Jason said lightly letting go of Tim’s wrist, “Some days I think I may be mad enough for Arkham myself when I think about partnering up with you and all your fucked up plans. And then you say shit like this and I gotta stick around to see what you do.”

“Thanks,” said Tim dryly, “I promise you that you bring up similar questions about my sanity.”

“And other times you say the sweetest things, don’t you?” Jason shook his head.

“I do try.”

“Hn… try less.” Jason said grabbing his jacket and guns, “I’d say ‘be good while I’m gone’ but I know that’s impossible for you so try not to be too evil, m’kay?”

“Likewise.” Tim said turning back to his computer and frowning at his notes.

“Oh, no promises.”

****

There was 5 alarms going off.

Tim felt his heart beating a little faster as he saw what tracker was headed towards Jason’s hide out. It wasn’t that unexpected- Jason hadn’t been all that subtle, and he was making pretty bold moves lately that had to be making the Bat’s uneasy- but that didn’t make Tim feel less… undone. Still, although Tim would have preferred not to let the Bat’s know there was another player on the board just yet, he wasn’t unprepared.

Carefully, Tim pulled out the case that had been waiting since the moment he began his training again. He opened the case and took a moment to stare into the black eyes of his new mask. This was it. There would be no going back now.

An alert pinged on his console as the target got closer. Tim hardened his heart and began to quickly change into his new costume.

“A to J,” Tim said into his radio, “Gold is 5 out and closing in quickly. Which protocol should we go with?”

“Nosy little fucker…” Jason sneered into the com, “No way we can let them into the building. Unless you’re good with them finding one of your hairs and running a DNA scan?”

“Protocol Phoenix then.” Tim grimaced.

“Agreed. Be on the roof in 3.”

“Understood. A out.” Tim quickly typed a few commands into the computers that would set the acid he’s set in the hardrives to release and completely burn away any data that might be left as ghost files even with a system wipe. Everything important was on a USB safely tucked into his costume anyway.

Tim decided to conserve his energy and not run up the stairs, instead taking a spare grapple and shooting it at the top of the stairwell and pulling himself up. He punched the protocol code into the pad by the door and then stepped onto the night air of the roof. He settled into the shadow with the best sightlines to the other buildings. Jason would be doing a last scan to make sure no squatters were in range of the building before joining him. Tim just had to wait. The only question would whether Jason would get there first or-

Nightwing swung gracefully from the next building to land lightly on the rooftop. He looked tired and stressed, but also wary even as he crept quietly across the roof. Tim used to have a similar reaction whenever he heard that they would have to be dealing the Red Hood.

Dick wasn’t wrong to be cautious either.

It still took him way to long to realize that there was someone else with him on the roof. Batman would have been disappointed.

“I know you’re there, come out!” Dick ordered with a growl that Tim knew he had learned from Bruce.

Tim stayed still and quite. The less he gave away with body language, the better. Plus, deliberate silence had a tendency to unnerve people. Especially people like Dick.

“I said come out!” Dick threw a flair in his direction. It wasn’t meant to hit him, so Tim stayed still and let it land a few feet away and spark to life, sending flickering light over Tim’s costumed form.

Tim watched Dick’s frown grow tight and his defenses go even higher as he failed to identify this new player. This was to Tim’s advantage since Dick’s caution would make him hesitant to attack outright until he gleaned more information. Even at Tim’s peak he had never beat Dick in a fight and he certainly wouldn’t be able to last very long with his current stamina.

“Who are you?” Dick demanded, “What are you doing on Red Hood’s roof?”

Tim tilted his head wondering if Dick was feeling protective or if he was suspicious about what Jason was up to. Personal experience indicated that it was likely a confusing combination of the two.

“Answer me!” Dick said advancing a step. Tim stayed quite and stayed still. He knew that Dick’s eyes were narrowing behind his lenses as he interpreted that reaction. To not show any sort of intimidation of Nightwing meant that either Tim was ridiculously strong, that he was used to dealing with people far stronger than Nightwing, or that he had been trained to be extraordinarily disciplined.

Dick changed his grip on his escrima stick and Tim had a split second to go through the defensive moves he could use that wouldn’t give his identity away- and then Dick was crying out as a silenced bullet tore through his leg.

“No!” Tim couldn’t stop himself from lurching forward. Jason was landing on the rooftop and yanking him back before he made it more than a few steps.

“Idiot! You’re not his precious baby brother anymore, he’ll attack you if you get close,” Jason hissed over their private coms.

“This wasn’t part of the plan!” Tim hissed back angrily, “Leg wounds like that are dangerous! He’ll bleed out if it’s not seen to quickly.”

“Which Goldie knows how to do,” Jason reminded him with a hint of a sneer, “Hurry up, let’s go. Or do you want to get caught be Daddy Bats this early in the game?”

“Hood!” Dick growled out amid a myriad of curses.

“You better take care of that leg quick Golden Boy; This rooftop ain’t going to be around too much longer,” Jason called to the vigilante on the ground.

“Jason, I just want to talk!” Dick gritted out through the pain.

“Sure you do, that’s why tried to sneak into the place where I live rather than contact me on the street. You should have known I would react like this,” Jason told him. Or maybe he was reminding Tim too. Because, yes, he really should have known that a confrontation with the family would go like this.

Tim took a deep breath and made himself turn away from Dick. He was doing what was necessary, he was doing what was necessary, the plan would be worth it in the end. With that in mind he stepped off the ledge and let his cape stiffen out like wings so he could glide down the block to where Jason had prepared a bike. He heard Jason rappel down behind him a moment later.

“You punking out on me?” Jason asked mockingly.

“We’re not done talking about this,” Tim said tightly.

“Yeah, sure sure.” Jason said as they watched Dick stubble to the edge of the rooftop with a tightly bound leg and still somehow gracefully swing onto the next building despite his obvious pain. Jason climbed onto the bike and revved the engine impatiently as Tim tore his gaze away and quickly climbed behind him. Their next safe house was a ways away and it would take even longer to get there since they had to make sure Oracle wouldn’t track them there.

Tim felt the ground rumble as their building exploded far behind them. It was a targeted thing that would primarily destroy everything in the area Jason had been sharing with Tim but once the supports on the building gave out the debris from the upper levels would smother any flames created so that no fires would spread to other buildings in the neighborhood.

“ Nightwing! Report!” Tim listened to Bruce order sharply over the coms he had hacked.

“I’m clear of the building and so are the civilians. I’m shoot though. I’m going to need an extraction.” Tim could hear the frustration in Dick’s voice.

“I’m on my way,” Bruce said tightly. Tim let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“No, send Robin. You go after Hood.” Dick tried to insist, “He’s got someone with him. A new player.”

“Robin is benched.” Batman said simply, “I’ll be there in a-“

“What?! Batman, seriously, you know he didn’t mean to hurt that mugger that badly. He couldn’t have known the guy had a desiese that left his bones brittle-“

“He would have if he had taken the care to fully read all the reports-“

“That’s not fair, there’s hundreds of reports everyday and it’s not like he would have been able to recognize him quickly enough. The guy had a gun.”

“We are not discussing this right now.”

“You never think it’s time to discuss this. You’re too hard on the kid.”

“He lacks discipline.”

“No argument there. But he’s 10 and he’s learning. When he makes a mistake you need to help teach him the right way not just refuse to talk to him and deny him part of your life till he’s perfect again.”

“Robin needs to-“

“ I made Robin. You don’t get to decide what Robin is or isn’t.”

“And I’m Batman, I get to decide if he’s worthy to be on the streets.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole sometimes.”

“See, that right there is what I like to hear.” Jason said. Of course he would be listening in as well.

“Just because this has worked in our favor right now doesn’t mean I’m not mad.” Tim said shortly.

“Oh please. He’d seen you. He needed to be injured badly enough that he couldn’t follow and that Batman would need to attend to him rather than us.” Jason said.

“You should have told me,” Tim insisted, “There could have been other types on injuries you could have gone for that weren’t so life threatening or potentially crippling. Did you think about that? If Nightwing was crippled how exactly were we going to coax Robin away?”

“You need to trust me more partner,” Jason said pointedly and a little cold, “I’m a damn good shot and I wasn’t going to miss. Do you think I could do the kind of shit I do if I wasn’t?”

Tim took a deep steadying breath and tightened his grip around Jason’s waist as they drove.

“I do trust you. Most of the time. But then you do things like this and it makes it hard.” Tim admitted. He probably shouldn’t trust Jason as much as he did. This was still the man who had nearly beat him to death. Still the man who went almost super villain on Gotham, despite the fact that he changed his mind at the last second. He was dangerous and smart. The more that Tim got to know him the more that became apparent. And Tim liked that a possibly a tad more than he should.

Jason stayed quiet the rest of the drive till they reached their temporary hide out. There was a better one they’d be heading to soon deep in Gotham where the Jason still had a fair bit of influence over the criminal underworld. They’d be able to influence things better from such a central position and both of them knew the terrain well enough to disappear more easily is the Bat stirred up trouble. When Jason pulled into the hidden garage they had and climbed off, Tim expected him to go right for the stairs and ignore him the rest of the night. It’s what he usually did when he was frustrated with Tim. A very Brucish trait, though Tim knew better than to say so. He liked his head on his shoulders thank you very much. Instead, Jason caught Tim’s wrist and held him where he was.

“What?” Tim asked testily. He was still mad at him after all. Jason tilted his head and Tim wished he’d taken off his helmet so he could see his expression.

“I was also testing you.” Jason admitted at last.

“What?” that was not what Tim was expecting him to say.

“How serious you were about your plan,” Jason elaborated.

“How does that relate to the plan? I already said it was counter-productive to the plan.” Tim frowned under his mask.

“It wasn’t counter-productive.” Jason sighed, “With Dick out of commission Bruce’s resources are stretched thin. He’ll have to pick and choose which crimes he’ll go after and it will frustrate him. He’ll tell himself he’s been getting complacent, relying on Dickie, and you, and even Batgirl too much. He’ll draw more into himself and be even more critical of Robin and the slipups he makes, benching for more and more minor things so he can go off on his own and prove that he’s just fine by himself. And Dickie will be around since he’s injured to see it. And since Batman will to be too busy to deal with us since we aren’t making that much trouble and there’s always bigger fish to fry, we can get more established in Gotham.”

Tim stared at him.

“Say it.” Jason said.

“…That’s perfect. You’re- wow. This is really good. I still wish you’d told me, but that’s brilliant Jason.” Tim breathed.

“Trust.” Jason reminded Tim tapping on his mask.

“Communication.” He countered. Jason shook his head.

“Not for this one. Like I said this was a test for you : So far, all your moves have been remote. You’ve put things in motion for your plan but you haven’t taken any responsibility. If things went haywire everything could be blamed on me and no one would ever know you were involved. You could slip back into the fold with no resistance. Now though, you choose to help down a Bat. Dickie will forgive you, but Bruce won’t. Not truly. And you know it. I had to see if you would stay and fret over Golden Boy and let yourself be caught and taken back. Or…” Jason said tugging him off the bike so that Tim had to peer up at his blank mask.

“Or choose a side.” Tim finished, “Jason, I’m serious about this plan. I always was, you know that. I don’t appreciate you forcing me to show some of my hand this early though. This life throws enough curveballs that I like to save my surprises for the occasions that truly require them.”

“We’ll go with that next time.” Jason said.

“Really?” Tim said skeptically.

“Maybe,” Jason amended with a little bit of a mean laugh, “What can I say? I’m not a good person. You sounded so concerned when Big Bird went down I could have puked. He’s going to be thinking about you now you know. Wondering about the way you reacted.”

Tim had thought of that. The other things Jason had said that night brought up a new thought

“That might be worth cultivating,” Tim rocked on his heels a little, “If we can get Dick to figure it out before Bruce and keep it a secret…”

“Then it will drive a big wedge between them.” Finished Jason

“If I let Dick think that I didn’t come back because Bruce would cast me out then he’ll be determined to save me. And mad at Bruce if I can convince him I’m right. It might even be a good position to be since I could feed him more doubts about Bruce and Damian and if it’s even safe for the brat there.” Tim said thoughtfully, “Dick’s trusting that way.”

“Oh that’s pretty evil bird boy,” Jason said with a little bit of relish.

“Hmm, maybe.”

“No maybe,” Jason said, “It’s down right twisted is what it is.”

His free hand darted out and lightly brushed back the hair that was falling around the edges of Tim’s bask. Tim felt something go still inside him. Or perhaps pay extra attention. Something had shifted again between them.

“Did you purposefully lure Dick to our base?” Tim asked at last, “So you could pull off this test?”

“We needed to move soon anyway. They’d have figured out where we were soon. I haven’t been going out as far with you being all delicate at home. They probably already had my location narrowed down quite a bit.” Jason shrugged by way of answer.

“You’re an asshole.” Tim sighed.

“True,” Jason shrugged uncaring, before tugging Tim a little closer by his wrist teasingly, “How did your debut feel? Was the Night as exciting as you remembered?”

Tim didn’t have to think about that one. Despite his conflict about Dick, the mask on his face felt perfect, his blood still singing lightly with the adrenaline of the escape.

“Better.” Tim answered, “It feels even better.”

“Thought so.” Said Jason sounding satisfied as he let Tim go and started for the stairs.

Chapter Text

Tim landed lightly on the roof of the hospital at Gotham General.

Jason was in another part of the city teaching a new drug leader what happens you target Middle School children in Gotham. A part of Tim would like to be beside him breaking heads and causing a little pain to the people running that operation, but… he had his own business here that Jason couldn’t be a part of. He and his partner shared many views, but in many ways Jason’s code of justice was a little purer than Tim’s: he wouldn’t be content leaving Tim’s targets for the night alive, whereas Tim was willing to use them for his own ends. They would still be punished, after all.

Tonight, Robin had patrolled on his own again. It was something that set Tim’s hackles up. While he was a firm believer in letting young people fight for justice, you don’t let 13 year olds patrol by themselves in one of the most dangerous cities in the world completely unsupervised. Especially not a 13 year old with the level of trauma and abuse Damian had gone through. Tim didn’t like Damian, but this wasn’t ok. There weren’t even any camera feeds monitoring the kid. If something happened, if he happened across a villain that he couldn’t handle, Bruce would never know until it was too late.

You’d think after losing several children to this city- heck after losing Damian in the past- Bruce would learn.

Tim swung into his target for the night’s hospital room.

The man was already sleeping deeply, pumped on pain-meds. Robin had beat him up for trying to rob a store at gun-point. He was on Black Mask’s payroll though so he probably wouldn’t serve time. However, Tim had looked into his history, and although the murder of the man’s family had most certainly been his doing, the evidence had been suspiciously destroyed. Everyone knew, but the justice system would let him walk again with no repercussions.

Too bad for him that Tim wouldn’t.

The trick would be making it look like Damian did it. There were no camera’s in the room- they only bugged the higher profile rooms where serious crooks and villains were treated- so Tim would be good. Tim carefully gave him a strong dose of a sedative that wouldn’t react badly to the drugs already in his system, and then got to work.

Robin had fractured both the man’s wrists, so Tim carefully made them worse. Fractures that turned to full breaks and torn tendons. Luckily, the attending nurse hadn’t called for x-reys, but they would in the morning when the injuries seemed a lot worse than they seemed originally. Tim knew what the finally diagnosis would be though: the man would never hold a spoon reliably again, much less a gun. Once Tim was satisfied with the man's hands, he went to work on the other injuries. Whatever the court's decision, this man would live in pain for the rest of his life. A small price to pay for the innocent people he had killed. 

Black Mask wouldn’t have any use for a crippled two-bit of muscle. If the man didn’t know anything useful, then the crimelord wouldn't pay his bail and he’d likely go to jail for the proper amount of time. But if Black Mask didn’t want any lose threads hanging around to testify later- and Tim suspected he didn’t- then he’d have someone kill the man later.

Batman didn’t condone permanently crippling criminals unless it was unavoidable. For such a petty crime, he’d consider this unacceptable and needless brutality. He’d be even more angry that Damian didn’t put a serious injury- and one that would likely lead to a death at Black Mask’s hands- in a report. He would likely yell at Damian and Damian would certainly defend himself and yell back and Dick would be there to witness it all. Damian was a skilled enough that he would be certain he hadn’t struck that hard. Dick would see it as an honest mistake and not malicious intent and get on Bruce’s case for being hard on him.

Tim quietly left the way he came, hugging the shadows and staying in the cameras blind spots.

The next time Robin sent people to the hospital- if they were guilty enough that Tim thought they deserved it- he’d be back again to make it a little worse. He’d been doing so on and off for several weeks. It was getting to Damian too. The boy was more anxious and unsure of himself, and more violent when others second-guessed him. The need to prove himself to his father made him take even more risks and made Tim’s job even easier. Though Tim was careful never to interfere when Damian patrolled with others.

It seemed to be working.

Dick was healed now, but he hadn’t left despite regular shouting matches with Bruce. Whenever Bruce didn’t have him on his own route, Dick came to patrol with Damian. The two worked together seamlessly as any pair that had once held the title of Dynamic Duo. Tim stayed well out of their way on those nights and held down the other parts of the city. The success on the streets when they fought together only strengthen their bond. The slow moments between fights gave Dick the opportunity to work some of his magic and get Damian to open up a little. Only a little, but there was potential there. If Tim applied the right sort pressure, he was confident he’d send Damian straight into Dick’s protective clutches.

In contrast to Dick, Bruce was speaking to Damian less and less. He was angry at Damian and at himself, likely telling himself that it was a mistake to take on a partner and that he was better off fighting crime on his own. Tim knew for a fact that he was starting to think Damian was unfit to be Robin because it was slipping into the reports that he would write.

Damian was unfit to be Robin, Tim had always thought so, but with more support he should be able to become a decent vigilante. With the way Dick was reacting to Bruce’s treatment of Damian, Tim estimated it wouldn’t be long before they reached a tipping point.

A shadow moved on the edges of Tim’s vision and he quickly ducked out of sight.

Sure enough, moments later, Batman came stalking around the rooftops. The man scanned the other rooftops closely, knelt, and examined the scuff-marks on the rails. Fortunately, Tim knew those weren’t from him. He was extra careful not to catch the attention of the Bat these days. Still, the Red Hood was in town and thanks to the run in with Dick a while back, Batman knew that Red Hood had a partner these days.

Tim often had to use every trick he knew to avoid Bruce catching him. It wouldn’t do to give Bruce a real distraction from the mess at home, and he knew that Bruce would love to use Tim’s miraculous survival to obsess and possibly force everyone back in line. And that wouldn’t do at all.

Moving carefully, Tim took off in the other direction, electing to take the long way back to his and Jason’s hideout.

He was almost there when he heard the dull thunk of a grapple- lower quality then the ones the Bats used- catching near him.

“Done harassing the sick?” Jason asked dropping down onto the rooftop next to him.

“Is the drug lord dead?” Tim asked instead.

“Don’t change the subject, feathers,” Jason said tapping his gun against Tim’s mask.

Although Jason might not disapprove of Tim’s targets, he wasn’t such a fan of taking them down when they were already beaten and shifting the responsibility onto someone else. But it was important that Bruce lose faith in Damian in conjunction with Dick’s proximity. These sorts of endeavors were best conducted in quick succession so that Bruce had no choice but to brood on his son’s failings. But not so quick as to arouse suspicion.

“Another murderer won’t be able to hold a gun anymore,” Tim shrugged, “So yes, I’m done with that for the night.”

“And the hospital staff that might get fired for ‘misdiagnosing’ their patients suddenly serious injuries?” Jason asked.

“If they do their job and get x-ray’s in the morning, no one should lose their job,” Tim said defensively.

“Maybe,” Jason said, “but if it keeps happening…?”

“It’ll stop soon,” Tim said firmly, “B is near his tipping point and so are the others.”

“Hn,” Jason hummed, gun tracing down from Tim’s mask to lightly caress his neck. Tim suppressed as Jason purposefully pressed down upon the scar there. Jason’s mark. Proof that he had no issue taking Tim down if he thought he was being unworthy, “I think you’re right about that, feathers, if those shit shows in the cave are anything to go by.”

Jason surprisingly didn’t usually want to watch the relationships in the manor fall apart so spectacularly. Tim suspected it was because it centered around the mistreatment of a child- it was still surprising that Damian was a child in Jason’s eyes when Tim struggled so hard to see it sometimes- and probably wanted to join in the yelling himself.

“Coming in for the night?” Jason asked, gun now tucked away and hands skimming lightly over Tim’s shoulders. Tim let him: he was as starved for touch as Jason was.

“Not quite,” Tim sighed regretfully.

Jason went still and cautious beside him. He always was whenever Stephanie came up.

“You still going to tell her?”

“I loved her,” Tim said uncomfortably, “I owe her this much.”

“That’s not it,” Jason muttered shaking his head, “I’ve seen how you are with people you ‘love’; you are downright cold if you think it will give you the results you want. What’s really going on? She could mess up all your careful careful plans.”

You’re just jealous, Tim was tempted to say. He wasn’t sure if that was true though and Jason would just go on the defensive.

“I trust her,” Tim said instead, “and going to her now will help make sure she doesn’t go to Bruce later. And if she stays away, chances are she will take Black Bat with her.”

“She’s just going to be looking for the boy you once were,” Jason said impatiently, “she’s not going to like who you are now.”

“Probably,” Tim said smiling wryly under his mask, “I’m still going.”

Jason muttered a few curses.

“Yes?”

“Don’t come fucking crying to me when she fucks with your head,” Jason said at last, and Tim knew he was being glared at from beneath the helmet.

“Understood.” Tim carefully did not look back when he jumped from the rooftop. He knew Jason watched him anyway.

Stephanie and Cass were living on the city limits these days. Close enough to get into Gotham if everything truly went to heel, but far enough away that Bruce didn’t have authority over their every movement.

Tim approved wholeheartedly of this tactic.

Figuring Steph wouldn’t react well to an unknown vigilante showing up at her home, Tim made a stop in one of his and Jason’s safe-houses and pulled on civilian clothes over his uniform. He still wore a hat and kept his head turned away from any new camera’s in the area, but… it had been ages since he’d left a building without a mask. It left him feeling particularly vulnerable.

That was sort of the point though.

He was vulnerable to Steph. She could ruin a lot of things simply by picking up the phone. But she wouldn’t. Tim firmly held onto that belief. Unlike everyone else, Steph had never let him down.

Cass was still out on her own patrol, but Tim’s bugs told him that Stephanie had already returned. That was exactly what Tim wanted. He liked Cass well enough, but it was possible that she would be able to read too many dark truths about Tim now from just looking at him. It wasn’t that he was planning on lying to Steph per say, but he didn’t want to freak her out too quickly. His morality had always been too grey for Steph, but he still hoped they could be allies if he didn’t shove it all in her face.

If he showed up to her door, she’d almost certainly slam it in his face and call up every cape she knew. So naturally, he climbed through her window.

The second his feet hit the carpet he spotted them: cameras.

Shit.

Still, considering Stephanie's current relationship with Bruce, he’d put his money that these were-

“Hello Barbara,” Tim said quietly, taking off his hat and letting the cameras get a good view of his face. He'd planned for this, but not quite so soon in the game. 

The sitting on the table came to life and displayed the Oracle’s mask.

“Awfully bold of you to just walk in here,” the filtered voice declared, “If you were who you pretend to be, then you’d know better.”

“Perhaps I should,” Tim said wryly, “But I also know that there would be hell to pay for Steph to find out from anyone else… or any later.”

“You’ve got that fucking right,” Stephanie emerged from the shadows, staph extended and ready, “Still think I shouldn’t bash your head and drag you in.”

“It would be good protocol. It’s what I would do in your place,” Tim acknowledged, tilting his head, “but I’d rather you didn’t.”

“And we should listen to you, why?” Stephanie asked tightening her grip on her staph.

“I’m a little mad at Bruce,” a vast understatement, and only part of it, but “And I don’t want to talk to him yet.”

“Hn, not good enough, kiddo,” Oracle intoned.

“Really not,” Stephanie hissed, expression hard and eyes so so hurt.

Tim swallowed. He never thought this would be easy, but that didn’t mean it was less painful.

“Bruce left me to die,” Tim said quietly, watching Stephanie go still, “He found the slightest suggestion I might not be alive and looked no further. It’s excusable for you, but he should know better, especially after having the same thing happen to a previous partner.”

“So, what, you decided you were going to go all super villain and get revenge?”

“I’d like to know that myself former-boy-wonder.”

“No,” Tim said firmly, “I’m angry, yes, but I still believe in the Mission and that Gotham needs Batman. I have not intention in getting in the way of that.”

He had some edifications to make to how Batman performed in Gotham, but Tim didn’t feel the need to be directly linked to those changes. The spotlight was fine every now and then, but it wasn’t where he truly thrived. That information wasn’t super relevant here anyway. Especially since a part of Tim eased as Stephanie’s stance relaxed ever so slightly at his assurance.

“Oh that was very nice,” Oracle chimed in, “But how true is it? That was you the night that Dick got shot, wasn’t it?”

Trust Barbara to remain suspicious. And to be more protective over Dick.

“It was,” admitted Tim, “I was angry at Jason for doing that; I would have preferred to leave without conflict. I wanted to tell him then, but he would have tried to take me back to Bruce.”

“You left him bleeding on a rooftop of a building set to explode.”

“-with ample time to get off that rooftop, knowing he had appropriate medical supplies, and that help was nearby,” finished Tim, “Yes, I did.”

“That’s still an asshole move,” Steph frowned at him.

“As your former boyfriend, you should know that I am indeed, at times, very much an asshole,” Tim said with a hint of a sad smile, “I do try to generally keep it to a minimum though.”

“I-“ a hint of guilt crossed Steph’s face.

“I’m fine with you and Cass,” Tim said holding up and hand, “I won’t pretend I wasn’t hurt when I found out, but you thought I was dead and in the end I’m glad you found some happiness.”

“Oh, well good,” Steph shifted on her feet slightly, “but you still don’t get to be an asshole like that! Dick cried for you when you died, you know.”

And then tried to forget about him at the earliest moment? Gave Damian all that was once precious to Tim even though he knew how Tim felt about the kid? No, this was not the time for that.

“I’m going to tell him soon,” Tim promised. Just as soon as Dick’s sense of loyalty to Bruce was thoroughly enough shaken.

“Not before we confirm it’s really you,” Oracle said coldly.

Tim nodded to himself. That’s just what he expected.

“That’s the smart thing to do. Go ahead and take a blood sample,” Tim said, rolling up his sleeve and offering his arm, “check for cloning markers as well while you’re at it. I am myself, but you guys don’t need to be wondering if there’s some imposter of me running around about to wreak havoc on our more emotional coworkers.”

“Pithy, I like it,” Oracle said, and their was somehow a hint of amusement in the monotone voice.

Tim sat down on the couch while Steph rummaged around for her supplies.

“If it’s in the same spot as your last place, then it’s under the ratty towels in the linens closet.” Tim called.

“Did you just call my towels ratty?”

“You call those towels ratty.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you should, jerk.”

Tim smiled softly.

“What?” demanded Steph suspiciously when she came back with the kit.

“Nothing, just missed you,” Tim said.

“You too, you jerk, no more dying,” Steph glared at him.

“You died first,” Tim noted quietly.

“I guess I did,” she conceded, looking away and focusing on drawing Tim’s blood.

She looked at him again after she’d set the syringe down, a hint of hope in her eyes, but still so much suspicion.

“Take that to Barbara tomorrow, she’ll want to oversee the tests herself,” Tim said with a sad smile, “I’ll come again after you two have confirmed it. I won’t make you do this guessing game.”

Steph tensed and then glanced over at the computer where Oracle’s mask had been (where she still no doubt was watching, even if she was pretending to give them privacy), before sighing and nodding.

“You better come back,” she said threateningly.

“I will,” Tim promised, getting up.

Steph glared at him for another moment before pulling him into a swift, fierce, hug and then shooing him out the door.

Tim walked back down the street with a slight smile on his face. That went better than expected. 

An advertisement on the road flickered and changed into the Oracle mask.

“Yes?”

“I still don’t trust you,” the masked bared it’s teeth at him, “even if you are really Tim, there’s too much you’re not saying, too much you’re still hiding. Being angry at Bruce is understandable, but partnering up with the former Arkham Knight is another. Or did you forget what he did to Gotham?”

“He nearly destroyed it,” Tim acknowledged, “but then he turned around and saved it and all of us.”

“Are you making excuses for him now?”

“No, but he was the one who found me,” Tim told her, “He rescued me and helped me heal. I never knew him before, but now I do and there’s still so much good in him. He’s willing to compromise his methods too so long as justice is reached.”

“I knew him too,” said Barbara coldly, “be careful, you’re not the only genius Bruce made Robin. Jason might just run a ring around you before you know it and then it will be too late.”

“I’ll be careful,” Tim said seriously.

Although, how careful he was capable of being around Jason was uncertain.

“I won’t tell Bruce for now,” she stated finally with a sigh, “But mostly because he’s going to find out soon.”

“I hope to tell him myself, but I am aware that he may find out before I’d like,” admitted Tim, “I’m counting on him brooding a bit when he does.”

“He almost certainly will. But he can also be unpredictable when he’s emotional.”

“Indeed.”

“…as can Stephanie,” Barbara pointed out.

Tim just smiled sadly, “I needed her to know.”

Barbara was quiet for a bit after that, before finally saying, “Don’t go evil. I’ll take you down myself.”

“Understood,” Tim agreed with a wince.

The mask gave one more menacing smile before the screen returned to its regular advertisement. Tim knew she would be watching though.

The way home was long, and Tim had a lot to think about. But it was also much quieter than it should have been for this part of town. Tim used to work this route and he knew it was usually steeped in gang activity, dealers on every corner and families locked tight into their homes to avoid all the violence.

And it was quiet.

On the corner of several buildings he noticed a red mask had been graffitied on the wall. Tim narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Jason had been working in the area, but he hadn’t mentioned any specific program, happy to go along with Tim’s plans for the moment.

‘Jason might just run a ring around you before you know it and then it will be too late,’ Barbara’s warning echoed in his head.

Tim clenched his jaw and then took a deep breath. He wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but from now on he’d be watching his partner a lot more closely.

And with that in mind, he made his way home.

Chapter Text

It was dark, so dark, but Tim knew every inch of the cell with his fingertips. He felt alright then, but he knew soon the hunger would come. The weakness. The pain right down to his bones so intense that he couldn’t move anymore.

No one was coming for him.

His friends had moved on, his chosen family pretended he didn’t exist, and even his captor had forgotten about him. It was so so dark. Locked in one room with no way out. Left to be forgotten like he never mattered.

No one was coming.

He could hear Damian taunting him in his head. The fake son, the replacement, the stalker that people accepted only because he’d forced his way into their lives. Never anyone’s first choice, and they would get rid of him as soon as he wasn’t useful anymore. He wasn’t useful in this cell, and he might never be useful again.

No on was coming. No one would ever come. No one-

“Wake up, now.”

Tim gasped like he was coming up out of water rather than a dream. It took a moment to calm his panic enough to register that he was in bed in their safehouse and the person who had woken him from his nightmare was hovering over him.

“Jason,” Tim acknowledged, trying to steady his breathing. Jason studied him closely, fully awake, but his own hair wild from sleep. Tim felt guilty for finding that comforting. He had woken him up no doubt.

“You’re still shaking,” Jason muttered, almost to himself.

“It’ll pass,” Tim tried to shrug casually. And it would. In the meantime his whole body trembled with the last vestiges of his dream. His fingers felt almost numb with it and he couldn’t shake the nausea that had settled over him. He felt annoyed with himself for still reacting so strongly to the nightmares. He had been through more traumatic things in his life. He shouldn’t be having such trouble shaking the shadows of his captivity off.

“Dumbass,” Jason said sounding annoyed, and before Tim could respond he was climbing on top of Tim and letting his weight settle over him.

Instantly, Tim felt himself relax the way he always did, human touch and warmth helping to chase away the cold emptiness of his cell. Jason held him tight enough to hurt, and it was wonderful. Slowly, as the shaking started to subside, Tim wrapped him arms around him in return. Jason’s shirt had hitched up and Tim’s hands settled on the warm skin of his back. He could feel the scars there, testament to Jason’s own captivity, and couldn’t help but be aware of how privileged he was to be allowed to get this close after everything Jason had been through.

“You feeling better now?” Jason asked.

“Almost,” Tim said, not wanting the touch to go away, “Sorry for waking you.”

“Dumbass,” Jason repeated, squeezing him for a moment, “Don’t apologize for shit like that.”

“Just the same,” Tim said. It wasn’t the first time Jason had held him this way after a nightmare and it probably wouldn’t be the last. At moments like this, Tim felt like a vulnerable mess and he didn’t like it one bit. Jason just took it in his stride though. Letting himself relax even more, Tim pressed his face in to the crook of Jason’s neck and just breathed.

Tim didn’t want to ever give this up. He never wanted to go back to the black, empty, nothingness that had been his life for such a long time. He couldn’t do that.

“If I ever get captured like that again-“ Tim stopped himself, not sure if that thought was something he should share.

He must have paused for too long though because Jason nudged him impatiently, “out with it.”

“…it’s not important.” Muttered Tim. When Jason just pulled back enough to glare at him, Tim sighed, “I was just going to say something about how I’d rather be killed then be taken prisoner like that again. I don’t think I could take it.”

“Not even to get revenge?” Jason didn’t even blink at his confession. Then again, Tim had a feeling he understood that sentiment better than just about anyone. He possibly even shared it.

“Revenge is nice when it happens, but isn’t actually all that important to me.” Tim shrugged.

“Now that’s bullshit,” Jason snorted.

“It’s true,” Tim insisted.

“You’re telling me that the shit you’re pulling with Bruce isn’t revenge? There are more painless ways to accomplish what you want.” Jason said in disbelief.

“They won’t be as permanent though,” Tim insisted stubbornly, “This is the best way.”

“-and it’s also revenge.” Jason finished.

“…maybe. Does it matter?” Tim glowered trying to tug Jason back. He wanted lay together for a bit longer before they got up. Jason wasn’t having it though.

“It matters.” Jason promised.

“Ok fine, can we go back to sleep?” Tim tried tugging him back but Jason didn’t budge, “What’s gotten into you?”

“You,” Jason accused, looking seriously annoyed about that fact.

“Pardon?”

“You’re playing this weird good guy/bad guy routine with everyone and it’s been pissing me off,” Jason said bluntly, “If it was just an act, that would be one thing, but you actually believe it and you use it as an excuse not to commit.”

“Seriously? We’re having this fight now?” Tim groaned.

“I’m not waiting until later when you’ll just find another excuse not to have it,” Jason said, and maybe his arms felt a bit like they were there to keep Tim from running away now. Tim sighed.

“Terms like good guy and bad guy are based on perception and circumstance. I am doing good, my goals are good, and I’m not sacrificing innocents to get to my goals. That’s what matters in the end.” Tim said pushing himself up into a sitting position. Surprisingly, Jason let him.

“And see, I’d agree with you, except if you actually believed that you’d act differently,” Jason shot back.

“What are you talking about?” Tim said exasperatedly.

“That shit you pulled with Brown,” Jason stated, “You could have ruined your whole plan just because you couldn’t wait a few more weeks to tell your Ex you were around.”

“So you are jealous.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Jason said, though he didn’t deny it, “Are you committed to changing things or are you not? If you keep pulling these half measures, keep pretending to still be a Bat half the time, then nothing is ever going to get fixed.”

“Oh, because your way has yielded so much better results?” Tim said sarcastically, “Everyone thinks you’re a villain these days.”

“That’s the difference between us,” Jason snarled, “you want to deal out justice, but you need people to keep thinking you’re a goddamn white knight. Me? I don’t give a shit if people don’t like me or call me a villain. I’m going to keep helping people as best as I can.”

“Sometimes you have gone too far,” Tim snapped angrily back, “sometimes you have been a villain. And now no one is going to back you up or side with you without seriously impending the operation by always suspecting you of things left and right.”

“Is that what’s going on? You backing out on me? What happened to trust, partner?”

“No! I just-“ Tim realized he was physically holding onto to Jason again, as if that would keep him there. Tim swallowed, he wasn’t ready to make himself vulnerable to Jason that way just yet, so in stead he said, “I’m not backing out. I just think we should do what we can to keep the allies we have. The city will suffer if we spend too much time fighting its heroes.”

“That’s not why you did it,” Jason pointed out also seeming to deflate slightly.

“No, I did it because I still care about her,” Tim sighed, “Maybe you’re right, maybe it would have been wiser to wait just a little longer, but I didn’t want to risk losing her friendship by waiting too long.”

“You’re still probably going to now,” Jason pointed out.

“It’s possible,” Tim acknowledged, “but it’s looking good right now; she wants me to be back and she wants to believe in me. She’s agreed not to tell Batman for now and that’s what matters.”

“That’s not all that matters,” Jason said darkly.

“It’s most of what matters,” Tim amended.

Jason looked at him a long moment, “Will you see her again tonight?”

“Yes,” admitted Tim, “she’ll have proof by then that it’s really me and she’ll likely want to talk.”

“Fine,” Jason said shortly, turning away and giving Tim his back, “I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Jason…” Tim lightly touched his shoulder. Jason glanced over at him wearily, “I- thanks for waking me. And talking things through with me rather than just brooding on it.”

Jason’s expression softened ever so slightly, “You can always count on me for that.”

Tim was left in the room to think a little but he didn’t really want to go back to sleep. Not now that the bed was empty and Jason’s words were still ringing in his ears. They were probably fine, but Tim should probably be spending more time refining their partnership. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told Jason that Barbara knew too, other than the fact that Jason would have been angry about it… and maybe a part of Tim wanted some insurance.

If Jason had done a run around him, it’d be good to have someone like Barbara on his side.

Slowly, Tim got up and got ready for the night. The sun would be setting soon and he had a lot of plans. Jason had already left, but there was food sitting out for him so he figured that he wasn’t actually mad at Tim. Just frustrated. Tim would have to fix that if they were going to continue working together.

Tim suited up and headed for the rooftops just after sunset.

He did a short patrol, breaking up a few of the more serious looking crimes, but mostly observing and staying out of sight. In the Narrows, he saw several more red masks painted on buildings or tucked in the corner of shops. Several more areas with a suspicious lack of violence. He made note of their locations and started to map out a bigger picture of the territory that was beginning to emerge.

He wouldn’t confront Jason until he had more evidence, he decided. He wanted a clearer idea of what was going on before he did, not just quiet streets and a mark on the wall.

In the meantime, he texted Steph from a blocked number with an address to meet up at. Somewhere private where this time Oracle wouldn’t be able to monitor.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“You wonderful absolute jerk!” Stephanie greeted him, throwing herself into a hug.

“I missed you too, Steph,” Tim smiled and held her.

“I can’t believe it’s really you! I was so mad at Bruce when you died. I’m even more pissed at him now.” Stephanie informed him.

“I know, and you don’t know what that means to me,” Tim admitted. Once Damian had been successfully disinherited, Tim fully intended to change the ownership of Drake Industries out of Wayne hands. Maybe Tam Fox, who seemed just as capable businesswoman as her father, but was likely to respect Tim’s wishes over Bruce’s unlike her father. Or maybe Tim should claim it for himself once he was willing to come back into the public sphere. It’d be nice to have his own source of legitimate income now that he was cut off from Wayne money. It’s also give him a public seat at the table if he ever needed it in the future.

“Where’d you go?” Steph asked.

“Sorry,” Tim blinked and smiled ruefully at her, “Just thinking of the future. More specifically what I’m going to do once Damian isn’t set to inherit Drake Industries.”

“He- gah! That’s it, I’m totally punching Bruce in the face next time I see him.” Stephanie announced.

“Far be it from me to stop you.” Tim said with a smile.

“I can’t believe that everyone else just- geez, yeah this is all so messed up.” Steph said pushing back to frown, and then wrinkle her nose at his mask, “Also, you’re new costume is super creepy.”

“Thanks,” Tim laughed, though he took his mask off for her.

“You know, I hadn’t realized they’d also just given Damian your old team,” Stephanie raged, “I’ve been a little checked out from everything and man, that’s so messed up. I’d have punched Bruce in the face if I realized that.”

“The, ‘give Damian everything that was important to Tim’ party does seem to be rather thorough,” Tim hummed in agreement.

“It does kinda seem like that,” Steph wrinkled her nose, before fixing Tim with a look, “You’re sure you’re not going to, like, take out your rage on Gotham or anything, right?”

“I’m quite sure,” Tim laughed, “the poor people of Gotham have enough to deal with. They don’t need another super villain running around.”

“Good,” Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief, “because even though you said that, Barbara still said you were hanging out with Red Hood these days and from what I’ve heard, he’s a little psycho.”

“He’s actually quite kind sometimes,” Tim said, thinking about waking up in his arms, “he cares a lot about Gotham and justice.”

“He cuts off peoples heads,” Steph said flatly, “he turned Gotham into a war zone.”

“He hasn’t done any of that lately,” Tim shrugged.

“And that’s enough for you?”

Well, not exactly, but…

“He saved me, Steph,” Tim said quietly, “I was half dead when he pulled me out of that cell. I couldn’t walk or take care of myself properly for months. I’m not excusing what he’s done in the past, but I think he’s capable of being a force of good again.”

“Villains always do that,” Steph said stubbornly, “they pretend to reform and get in your good graces and then just do it all over again.”

Jason is not Cluemaster, Tim wanted to say. But that would be a low blow. Steph didn’t give him grief about his parents, despite knowing that they had been less than angels. And also, Tim couldn’t say with 100% certainty that Jason wasn’t up to something at the moment. Not that Steph would like to hear that.

“I’ll be careful,” Tim promised instead, “you know me, I’m good at keeping an eye on the people around me.”

“Well I don’t trust him,” Steph declared.

“Noted.”

“Speaking of trusting people, I know we agreed I wouldn’t tell Bruce, but can I tell Cass? She was really upset when you died,” Steph said.

“She’s still really loyal to Bruce,” Tim grumbled.

“Only a little, and Tim, she’s like your sister. Not just legally."

It will probably take Cass 0.01 seconds to figure out Tim is up to something. She always saw too much truth in his body.

“Not yet. I’ll see her after Bruce and I hash it out.” Tim said instead, “too many people knowing before I’m ready is just going to mess things up.”

“Bruce deserves to know last after everything he’s pulled over the years,” Steph frowned.

“It’ll still mess with things,” Tim insisted, “I’m going to tell everyone, but I want to do it one by one or things will just go crazy.”

“Gosh Tim, I know there’s no one better keeping their peas out of their mashed-potatoes like you do, but people don’t work like that,” Steph snorted.

“Sometimes they are.”

“And sometimes you can’t just manipulate things so that you’re only dealing with people in groups of three or less.”

“I know that,” Tim grumbled.

“Sometimes I worry you don’t.”

As if to illustrate her point, Tim’s com chimed. It was Jason.

“Get back here. It’s begun,” Jason said shortly. He didn’t explain further, but he didn’t have to: Bruce must have finally snapped.

“I have to go Steph,” Tim said shortly.

“What happened? Do you need me to come back you up?” Steph asked, instantly becoming serious.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Tim said hurriedly waving her off, “I just have to go. I’ll tell you later.” Maybe.

“Be careful about Jason,” Steph reminded him.

“I will.”

Whatever else Stephanie said got lost in the wind as Tim jumped off the building. She didn’t follow though so Tim was good. Quickly, Tim grabbed his bike and hurried back to the closest safehouse. He toggled into his audio feed to the Batcave as he did so. They were all already arguing heatedly, and it took Tim a moment to figure out why Jason was so sure that this time would be different: Damian had kicked a man too hard too close to the ledge and he’d fallen off the building. Damian had lunged to try and save him, but he’d been too late and the man had died.

Bruce was furious. Damian was a mess. It was going as planned.

“That’s it; you’re done Damian.” Bruce finally said coldly. Tim felt his heart kick into overdrive.

“I said it was an accident!” Damian exclaimed, the slightest hint of desperation cracking his voice.

“There have been too many ‘accidents’ as of late.” Bruce’s voice was positively wintery.

“Father-“

“I have given you so many second chances, every possible opportunity to reform, and you have disappointed me at every turn.” Tim winced on Damian’s behalf.

“I’ve been trying-“

“Trying is not good enough. I’m done making excuses for you, Damian, when it’s clear you’re not going to change. I will not have a killer as a partner; you’re done.”

Tim sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fine! I don’t want to be your partner either!” Damian yelled back and stormed away.

Tim felt excitement thrill through him. It was really happening. A part of him felt bad for Damian, but not all that much. Damian had taken too much away from him for Tim to feel particularly compassionate towards him. Perhaps Jason was a little bit right about the revenge thing.

Tim was a terrible person, but it didn’t matter because his plan was working. Now Dick just had to play his part and Tim was sure he wouldn’t disappoint.

Jason was waiting for him in the safehouse.

“You catch all of that?” Jason asked from the computers where he had the screens up from the cave and manor.

“The important bits.” Tim said, coming to sit beside him.

“Fucking want to punch that asshole in the face,” Jason growled, glaring at the screen where Bruce was typing at the console like he didn’t even care that he had essentially disowned his child, “The kid is 13 for fucks sake, he’s acting like he’s some 30 year old criminal that will never fucking get their act together.”

“Well,” said Tim carefully, “he’s unlikely to get it together under Bruce.”

“Not that you gave him much of a chance at that.”

“It would have happened eventually anyway,” Tim waved the comment away, “at least this way it should still have a positive outcome. Now we just have to wait for Dick.”

“Because Big Bird is just the bestest big brother in the whole world?” sneered Jason.

“Hardly,” Tim said, briefly wondering again if Jason wished Dick had been his brother, and perhaps how differently things might have turned out if Dick hadn’t withheld his love and Jason had had someone he could’ve talked to about Bruce when things started getting bad, “In reality, Dick is not as golden as his reputation has made people believe. There still are ways that Bruce and Damian’s relationship could be repaired that would be a much kinder solution. But Dick has already had a hand in partially raising Damian, and that means that Bruce’s unfair treatment of him feels personal. Not to mention the fact that Dick has some fault lines around the Robin title that Bruce has always carelessly tripped. In the end, Dick is taking Damian away because when he get’s truly angry he get’s a bit cruel and right now he’s going to want to hurt Bruce. The fact that the result is probably the healthiest solution for all parties involved will be a happy accident on Dick’s part.”

Jason’s face went blank for a moment with a flicker of surprise before turning thoughtful.

“Pretty harsh, birdie,” Jason said after a moment giving Tim a slow smile.

“It is the truth,” Tim said simply.

“Oh I know, it is the reason why it used to drive me crazy that people would put Dickie on a pedestal of perfection when he could turn around and be a mean fucker when poked the wrong way, but I was still the one that got the most flack for my temper.” Jason said tilting his head, “But I wasn’t expecting to hear that kind of assessment from you.”

“At the end of the day, I’m not a very nice person.” Tim shrugged.

“Funnily enough, I figured that out. Partner,” Jason said leaning in with a crooked grin. Tim could feel himself being drawn in too, but then Dick was cautiously coming into Damian’s room and the moment was broken. Tim tried not to resent it too much.

“Little d? What’s going on? Why are you packing?”

“Go away Grayson.”

“No way, what’s wrong? Did Bruce do something?” Dick came to carefully perch on the edge of the bed where Damian was stuffing a bad with clothes and weapons and dog treats.

“Father fired me. He no longer wants me around and I don’t intend to stay.” Damian’s tone was indifferent, but Tim could see how upset the kid was.

“He what?!” Dick’s tone was abruptly furious, “Why?!”

On-screen, Tim could see Damian’s shoulders hunch up slightly. He probably thought Dick was going to reject him too.

“I made a mistake,” Damian admitted, and Tim wondered how much that had cost him, “A man lost his life because of it. Father was furious.”

“Ok- yeah, that’s pretty bad,” Dick admitted, “But that’s when you talk about it- retrain, go through the scenario and alternatives, not just- gah!”

“It’s not just tonight.” Damian said slowly sitting down next to Dick, “I have not been… my best out there as of late. It is understandable that Father would grow tried of my failure. Mother would have gotten rid of me a long time ago if I had messed up this often with her.”

“What- no, Dami, no. Every time you’ve patrolled with me you’ve been wonderful.” Dick slipped off the bed and knelt at Damian’s feet, tipping Damian’s head up to look at him, “You messed up out there, yes, but you don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t understand,” Damian looked truly miserable now, “When you’ve not been there I’ve been making inexcusable errors. I swear that I have tried to be careful and then the criminals end up so much more gravely injured than I expected. No one with my training should be making such rookie mistakes, I- I am not worthy of-“

“No. Whatever you’re about to say, it’s not true.” Dick said furiously, “People much more experienced than you have made the same mistakes. Bruce has made the same mistakes. And he’s do well to remember it.”

“Father doesn’t think so,” Damian said and his voice was the smallest Tim had ever heard it, “He took away Robin.”

Dick swore out a rather impressive string of profanities considering Tim rarely heard him curse. There was a new fury in his face that spoke of old wounds. Tim smiled.

“You’re going to hell for enjoying this,” commented Jason.

“I’m not enjoying it, I’m just anticipating.”

“Liar.”

“He doesn’t get to decide that.” Dick was saying angrily on screen, “you’re Robin until you’re ready to move on.”

“But father-“

“Fuck Bruce,” Dick said furiously, “He doesn’t get a say. I created Robin. I was your Batman first. I choose you to be my Robin. My partner. Bruce doesn’t get to take that away from you.”

Damian was starring at Dick looking flustered, and wary, and just so tentatively hopeful. Like Dick was everything. Tim smiled to himself and leaned back. This was what he’d been after.

“Finish packing your bags,” Dick said, “You’re going to come live with me until your dad has learned to pull his head out of his ass.”

“Fuck, kid, you really did it,” Jason gave a low whistle, “Wasn’t sure you were going to pull it off.”

“They just needed a push.” Tim said as he watched Damian’s weak protests get shot down by Dick. He shut up when Dick said he could bring his animals. Tim would watch them to make sure they settled in alright, but he knew Dick would do everything to make this work out, not only out of care for Damian, but also to shove it in Bruce’s face.

“I’ve seen all I need to see,” Jason said getting up, “You can stay and watch Dickie rip Bruce a new one if you like.”

“I should probably do that,” Tim said absently, still watching the screen as Jason moved off.

It didn’t take long after Dick marched down the stairs to the cave for the yelling to begin. Tim winced at some the words being thrown back and forth and wasn’t in the least surprised when it came to blows. Whatever Dick said to Damian, there wasn’t going to be a coming back from this. Dick and Bruce were burning too many bridges in rapid succession… Saying things that weren’t simply forgiven.

Even though Tim had planned for it, had orchestrated it himself, he still felt a little like something foundational was crumbling underneath him. Tim took a deep breath and centered himself. It wasn’t unexpected, Tim reminded himself. Bruce and Dick, Batman and Robin… he had practically worshipped them for a good long while. Even after Jason’s death had revealed how unstable Bruce was, even after Tim came into the fold and discovered how broken Bruce and Dick’s relationship had become… even then, there was the knowledge that Dick was unwaveringly loyal to Bruce and would never ever truly go against him.

Not anymore.

But this was ok. This was good even. Everyone would have a chance at a healthier tomorrow this way. The world could have a healthier tomorrow.

It was still jarring to watch Dick threaten to take Bruce to court if he didn’t willingly pass legal guardianship of Damian over to him. If Bruce was still willing to risk the bad press and scrutiny over it then Dick would get the League involved. Dick was well trusted and liked in the Superhero community. Superman at least would take his side and most of the rest would follow.

Tim wondered how Bruce felt about the knowledge that Dick could ruin him. Probably, if Tim had to guess, like he’d never trust a partner again.

Much had been accomplished that night, but there was still much to be done.

Bruce left to beat up more criminals even though dawn was fast approaching. Alfred helped pack up Damian’s things gesture that suggested that he also approved of Damian leaving with Dick. Tim honestly hadn’t expected that.

Tim wandered into the kitchen and plopped into a chair feeling the exhaustion from the night settle onto his shoulders.

“Eat,” Jason ordered him shoving a plate of food at him, “you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Tim said dryly, doing as he was told. He was sure whatever he was eating was good, but he barely tasted it.

“You’re going to have nightmares again tonight,” Jason said thoughtfully as he looked Tim over.

“Probably,” Tim agreed with a shrug, “Wake me up if they get too bad.”

“Always,” Jason said touching Tim’s cheek. The empty space where on Jason’s face the brand stood out stark and angry as always.

The gesture got Tim’s complete attention the way it always did.

Tim looked up at Jason to say something and realized how close they were. For a second, Tim could see it how this moment could go: he’d move like this and then Jason would move like that and then Tim would do that. Step by step all laid out in his head like a case he was working on.

“Jason…” Tim started and then stopped himself. They were close enough that he could feel the heat from Jason’s skin, could see his eyes, beautiful and distracting. Knew Jason was seeing him. Knowing Tim utterly.

He almost couldn’t stand it.

“I’m going to bed,” Tim said scooting back and standing.

He wasn’t sure if he meant that as a defense or an invitation. Jason’s eyes narrowed, no doubt sensing Tim’s uncertainty.

“You do that,” Jason said turning away from him and heading to the kitchen.

Slowly, Tim turned and walked into the bedroom. He didn’t turn on the light, just climbed into the middle of the bed and sat cross-legged. He could hear Jason faintly moving around in the main area and wondered what he made of all of this. Of their strange partnership. His own thoughts were… confusing.

That just wouldn’t do.

He had just purposefully destabilized the strongest collective force of good in the city and if he didn’t plan out his next steps carefully, Gotham could fall into chaos. More chaos. Tim had to be at the absolute top of his game. This next period of time would be pivotal and Gotham- no, the world- couldn’t afford for Tim to misstep.

Tim purposefully shoved thoughts of Jason out of his head and began to plan.

Chapter Text

Batman and Robin eternal.

It was a phrase that had been thrown around many a time. Bruce had failed at many things, but turning his Mission into a legend had not been one of them. Tim himself used to devote himself religiously to that idea of the dynamic duo long before he donned a uniform himself. Batman needed a Robin; There was a time when Tim believed that more than anything else. When Jason had died, Tim had been prepared to give up everything to restore that partnership.

Now he had come full circle and broken it apart.

The regular citizen of Gotham might not understand everything that had happened, but everyone could instinctively feel it; the status quo had been thrown into uncertainly. Robin sightings had completely vanished from Gotham. Batman worked alone, cooperating less and less with the police force as he withdrew, and becoming more brutal and disorganized on the streets. People were beginning to mutter about the dangers of vigilantism, although few dared to say it out right.

Small gangs were cropping up left right and center, excitedly trying to make a grab for what they saw as a power vacuum. Tim coordinated with Steph and Babs often these days to keep the city from sinking into an intra-gang war. And if Tim took things a little further than protocol with those criminals that were shaping up to be their own little super villains… well. Barbara probably knew, but so far she hadn’t said anything.

Jason helped him sometimes, especially if the gang in question had been making things hard on the families in the area. Tim still felt deeply uncomfortable about outright execution, but Jason pointed out that it was sometimes kinder than then fate the Albatross tended to leave his victims with: socially isolated, physically crippled, and financially ruined.

Killing people just turned them into someone else’s martyr and sparked further violence. Better to cut them away from society and let them slowly destroy themselves. It was definitely morally grey, but… in a place like Gotham, true change wasn’t going to happen without bold purposeful steps. There were key points of power and tradition at play that kept crime and violence as high as it was and Tim intended to slowly topple those systems as thoroughly as he could while minimizing the collateral damage.

It was hard though, and several times Tim had to carefully sit with the plans he was making and make sure that he wasn’t straying into the role of a villain. Some cases were truly grey enough for him to be deeply uncomfortable. But he reassured himself that he was still within the protocol he’d made for himself when he’d first began this journey.

And Jason hadn’t taken him out yet, so that was a good sign.

Something would have to be done about Bruce though. Tim stood by his conviction that Batman and Robin had become a toxic partnership where they slowly destroyed one another. Left on his own, Bruce would probably eventually find another Robin, but not before he fell deep within his own darkness and the city would suffer for it. Batman needed a partner. However, Bruce had shown that he was not currently responsible enough to have a subordinate partner. Tim decided that he’d temporarily lost that privilege. If Bruce started to train another black haired blue-eyed boy Tim would step in and sabotage things if needed.

Rather than fall back on drastic measures though, Tim found it was much better to simply proactively nudge forward a better solution.

“Duke Thomas,” Tim greeted as he dropped into an alleyway the Signal had been scoping out for clues to a recent crime, “I need to speak to you about something of great importance.”

“Whoa- Who are you?” the other boy jumped back into a defensive position, “and how do you know my name?”

Amateur, Tim chided in his head, you’re not supposed to confirm your secret identity unless it becomes abundantly clear that I really know it. Bruce had a lot to still teach him.

“Hey, wait, I know you: you’re the new mask that’s been on the streets lately,” Duke frowned at him, “Bats says you’re unstable.”

“That is unsurprising and also ultimately irrelevant for this conversion,” Tim said, although he smiled behind his mask.

Bruce probably was beginning to suspect who the Albatross really was. Tim’s fighting style had changed slightly after training with Jason for so long, but not that much. If Bruce hadn’t begun to put the pieces together, he would very soon.

“You have been operating as a largely independent entity in Gotham, albeit one under the Bat’s sanction,” Tim said fixing Duke with a look, “that needs to end.”

“Hey, man, I don’t know what you think your talking about-“ Duke began, his stance instantly becoming much more defensive. Tim silently made a mental note about Duke’s continued insecurity about his place in the community. It was a thought worth revisiting for later plans.

“Batman is unstable now that Robin has been taken away. He needs a partner,” Tim stated matter-of-factly, “You are the best person for the job.”

“…that is not what I was expecting you to say,” Duke muttered taking a step back, before his mouth turned down in a frown, “wait, how do you know about Robin?”

“I have my ways,” Tim waved the worry away, “the important thing is that Gotham needs Batman, and Batman needs a partner. Therefore, it’s time for you to step up. Isn’t this what you’ve wanted?”

“I decided I wouldn’t be Robin,” Duke said sticking out his chin slightly, though it was clear he was wavering.

“Good. You are uniquely positioned as you are to be exactly what he needs. Becoming a subordinate partner would not serve Gotham.”

“Stop speaking in riddles and just get to the point, man.”

“There’s an idea that Batman is the best at whatever he does and this affords him a degree of power that not even the super powered Justice League can help but defer to. While it is true that he is extremely skilled in some areas, it is also true that he often coasts on his pre-existing privilege to handle processes that really shouldn’t be done that way. Do you know what I’m talking about?” Tim asked.

“You mean, like because he’s white?” Duke said hesitantly, still tracking Tim’s every move suspiciously.

“Certainly that is one form of privilege that he wields unthinkingly. His social class and gender comes to mind as well. Particularly the way that he uses resources as if they are an infinite expendability. Money is one notable resource, but also people… especially his allies,” Tim stated.

“Dude, you just refer to people as a ‘resource’?” Duke frowned.

“There is always a cost to this kind of behavior,” Tim continued, ignoring him, “but because of the particular configuration of his privileged position, that cost rarely falls on him in any substantive way.”

“Yeah? And why should I listen to you about this? I’m not dumb, I know a rich white boy when I hear him, so don’t even pretend that’s not what you are.” Duke crossed his arms.

“Don’t restrict your mobility so much when you’re talking to someone of undetermined trustworthiness,” Tim said sharply, making Duke scowl and fall back into a ready stance, “…But you are correct. That makes it perhaps even more important for you to be at his side and not me anymore. I, in many ways, am too much like him.”

“You…” Duke sucked in a breath, “You’re Tim Drake, aren’t you?”

Tim smiled slightly. Perhaps Bruce could make a detective of Duke yet.

“Batman never looked for me. Just as he never looked for Jason. I would have died in that basement if it had been left up to him. Batman is skilled and you should absolutely tap into that skill for your own training. But he is far from infallible and you need to be especially aware of that as his future partner.”

“But-“

“The legend of Batman does not mean that the man himself doesn’t have a tendency to sabotage himself in bouts of pettiness and pride.” Tim said firmly.

“Why haven’t you told them you’re alive? I get that they messed up big with you, but letting them think you’re dead… that’s even more messed up.” Duke said somewhat angrily.

“And I’m letting you know now. The fact of the matter is that many people will want me to return to the way things were, and I am unwilling to do that. Thing’s have to change.” Tim said firmly.

“Are you hearing yourself?” Duke asked incredulously, “Seriously, do we need to be worried about you going psycho like Red Hood and trying to get revenge?”

“I’m not going to try to kill or take down Batman if that’s what you’re worried about. Although, I am invested in making sure that what happened to me and Jason does not continue to happen,” Tim admitted, “But I’d like to think that I’m being careful not to get innocents hurt along the way. I have been invested in the protection of this city and it’s people practically my entire life, and I intend to continue that Mission.”

“No way that’s the whole truth,” Duke said, hands creeping almost subconsciously towards his weapons, “If it was, you wouldn’t be worried about what people who used to know you would think if they saw you now.”

“Indeed,” Tim inclined his head, smiling slightly behind his mask, “You and I were never close enough to discuss that and we won’t begin now.”

“Stop freaking dodging questions, man.”

“What I want to impress upon you is that you shouldn’t let Batman get away with holding you at a distance and not training you to the best of his ability,” Tim continued, “It is not a coincidence that the partners that Bruce has devoted himself most to are black-haired blue-eyed boys. He has always neglected and failed to listen to his female partners… just as he often does with you. However, the fact that Bruce will have trouble turning you into a clone of himself is exactly the reason that it’s important for you to be his primary partner.”

“You… that… damn,” muttered Duke.

Tim waited.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are one cold son of a bitch?” Duke said at last.

“…it has been remarked upon.”

“I still think you’re acting super shady, but I’m hearing you, man,” Duke frowned, looking troubled, “Not sure I should be taking advice from someone who seems like they might go all villain on me, but I’m hearing you.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Tim said, and shot his grapple to the roof.

He hears Duke mutter something unfavorable, but doesn’t try to follow him which Tim ultimately takes as a good sign.

Tim waits until he’s several blocks away in the shadow of a building. He removed his mask and stared at the Bat carved across the front. Duke was an honest guy and there was no doubt in Tim’s mind that he would tell Batman about this meeting. If Bruce hadn’t suspected before, he would know for sure that Tim was back by the end of the night.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted Bruce’s reaction to be. He knew what he suspected it would be: heavy suspicion, stalking, and criticism with a dose of brooding. But a part of him still hoped… something. Bruce had been like a father to him. Sometimes Tim wished-

“You’ve been a busy bird tonight,” Oracle’s voice cut through his radio, interrupting his thoughts.

“One does one’s best,” Tim said with a smile at the closest security camera.

“Hn,” came the odd sound of a laugh through a voice scrambler, “do me one better and help me check out your ‘partner’ tonight.”

“You found something?” Tim said sharply, snapping to attention.

“A lieutenant that just might be willing to sing for us,” Oracle replied.

“Will Spoiler be joining me for this one?” Tim asked already putting his mask back in place.

“No, I think this contact may require something of a firmer touch than Spoiler might be comfortable with.”

Tim paused for that. Interesting. So Oracle knew about the shift in his methods and was giving him the go ahead anyway. Perhaps not all of his methods, but… Barbara had been shot and stripped by a psychopath while her father had been tortured for hours. The incident had left her wheelchair bound for a long time. Tim wouldn’t be surprised if Barbara silently supported Jason’s quest to rid the world of the Joker.

“Understood,” he murmured into his com.

He wondered how far that grey morality stretched. Perhaps he’d find out soon.

Tim was fuming by the time he returned to the safe-house.

“Please! I’ll talk I swear,” the man had begged, “The mark belongs to the Red Court.”

“More,” Tim demanded ever so softly as he twisted the knife he’d buried in the man’s shoulders.

“Fuck- fuck- I can’t-“

“More,” Tim said just as evenly.

“They’re- they’re new meat in Gotham… fuck, only been here a few months. But they been gaining power like crazy they say. All the gangs that haven’t been put down by the Bat’s have pretty much been swallowed.”

He wasn’t sure who he was more angry at: Jason for trying to pull something behind his back, or himself for letting it happen.

“What’s their goal?” Tim asked.

“Please, I can’t-“ the man screamed as Tim buried another blade in the opposite shoulder.

“What is their goal?” Tim repeated.

“I don’t know! Please believe me!” he whimpered, “There’s a tribute they have to pay and some rules they have to follow, but otherwise they don’t really- please, I just know rumors-!”

“Rules? Like what?”

“I told you, I don’t know! I just know that if you break ‘em you wake up dead with a Red Hood over your head.”

It was definitely Jason’s handiwork. Worse, Tim could tell this was something that Jason had been quietly building at for years from the shadows. Why had even bothered to pretend to care about Tim’s goals when he’d had his own plan all along.

Somehow Tim had foolishly come to believe that Jason would be the one person who wouldn’t betray him.

“You’re in a mood,” Jason drawled when Tim stalked into the room.

Tim didn’t bother to answer, just marched right up to him and shoved him hard into the counter. A punch would have been more satisfying, but Jason wouldn’t have let it land.

“Watch it,” Jason scowled, setting down his cup of tea before it spilled. Tim hated him. Hated hated hated him. Hated that Jason looked like the type to toss back a beer and watch TV but was much more likely to sit quietly with a book and brew his own homemade blends of tea. Hated the way he had become comfortable in Tim’s personal space, and that Tim wanted him more often than not. Hated he’d gotten under Tim’s skin.

Hated that he’d fucking been using Tim to build up his own criminal organization in Gotham.

“The Red Court? Really? What’s next? Are you going to start kidnapping children off the street to be your own personal undead soldiers?” Tim snarled.

Jason was very still for a moment before he straightened up. His gaze was steady, and Tim hated that he didn’t even look ashamed about having gone around Tim’s back.

“Don’t be dramatic, you knew that dethroning Bruce meant we were going to have set up new power systems.” Jason said, picking up his cup again and taking another slow sip of tea.

“Don’t talk about this as if we were in it together,” Tim snapped, “We were supposed to trust each other.”

“You know what I think,” Jason murmured, leaning into Tim’s space, “I think you’re just mad I didn’t tell you everything I was planning.”

Well…

“Gotham doesn’t need more organized crime,” Tim said firmly.

“Really? Because its judicial system sure isn’t going to straighten things out,” Jason said with a slight sneer, “there has to be something that keeps the criminals inline.”

“Oh, so we endorse crime now?”

“There’s always going to be crime in a place like Gotham,” Jason waved his hand, “this way though we can at least put sanctions on the type of crime that happens.”

“There is no we in this-“

“Look, Gotham as it is can’t handle the psychos that run this place. There’s corruption so deep in the system that it’d take decades to straighten it all out even if you could convince the rich shits to give a fuck. In the meantime, the common people’s only hope of any sort of justice is if someone with a cape happens to hear what’s going on. And even then, all the Bat’s won’t see things through to the end. Abusers go right back to the people they were abusing. Small time crooks go to jail and learn more tricks and become murders and worse,” Jason said darkly, “My kind of system is the only way.”

“And power systems outside the law never get out of hand,” Tim said sarcastically, “There’s no way that could become just as corrupt, right?”

“You think I don’t know that? I’ve been planning this for years,” Jason glared at him, “I’ve been very careful about the people I put in charge.”

“That’s not enough!”

“So what, we let the people suffer through a system that’s just going to screw them over twice as hard?” Jason said angrily stepping away from Tim, “At least my way people have a hope of getting some justice in this lifetime.”

“And what does this ‘justice’ look like? Executing everyone who goes against you?” Tim said. Anger was hot under his skin, but he still didn’t like Jason moving away. He wanted to grab him by the coat and pull him back close so they could finish their argument.

“Fuck no. But people have to know there are real consequences when they go too far,” Jason scowled, “the punishment will match the crime.”

“Why not break into Arkham and weed them off one by one where they can’t escape?” asked Tim sarcastically, “So much more efficient.”

“The only way I’m stepping foot in Arkham again is if I’m in a body bag.” Jason said frankly.

Tim’s stomach flipped and his anger drained out of him in one chilling moment.

There was an awkward silence. The branded J seemed even more stark against Jason’s skin than usual.

“Sorry, that was… sorry,” Tim looked away, “I still think you’re wrong about this, but that was… flip.”

“Whatever.”

Jason wasn’t looking at him and Tim hated it.

“Jay, please, you can’t do this. It’s not right,” Tim said quietly.

“See, this is why I didn’t tell you,” Jason said bitterly, “I knew you’d get up on your high horse. But I’ve lived that shit down there. I know what it’s like. And maybe I won’t get everything right, but I like to think I know better than most what Gotham really needs.”

“Yes, you do, which is why we should working together to figure something else out,” Tim tried to plead.

Jason stared at him hard for a long moment. Tim felt his heart sink even further and start to stew in the beginnings of bitterness. Jason was never going to compromise on this. Not truly. Tim was fool to believe he could ever-

Jason raised his hand to lightly touch Tim’s cheek before letting it settle on the side of Tim’s neck, thumb rubbing almost absently. He frowned at Tim like he was as confused by all of this as Tim was. As for Tim… he absolutely didn’t lean into the touch. Nor did he step close and hold Jason back. He just stared back at Jason steadily.

“I still want you on my side,” Jason said, looking a little frustrated by the fact, “You’re a devious little shit, and together we could be great. We could turn Gotham around.”

Tim wanted it too. But he wasn’t interested in getting duped again.

“Well, you should have thought of that before you split off and started working on your own,” Tim said bitterly, stepping away at last.

“So you’re giving up? Just like that? After everything, you’re going to walk away?” Jason asked, brows furrowing.

Tim laughed without a hint of humor, “Shouldn’t that be my line? Partner.”

Jason’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it, “You wouldn’t have agreed.”

“No,” Tim said, “I wouldn’t have. In fact, I still don’t. But that’s not why I’m leaving, you get that right?”

Jason’s mouth turned down for the slightest moment before he was turning his back on Tim, hiding whatever expression was on his face.

“Whatever. Get out of here. I don’t want to see you in my neighborhoods,” Jason said to the kitchen counter.

For one moment, Tim was filled with wild fury. He imagined what it would be like to take one of his knifes and tear into that turned back. The impulse was gone as quickly as it came though, and Tim took a deep breath.

“Right back at you,” he said, fitting his mask back on his face. He should go get some of his belongings, but Tim suddenly didn’t want anything on him that reminded him of Jason.

Jason didn’t call to him as Tim left through the window, even though a part of him wished he would.

He considered going to stay with Steph and Cass, but quickly discarded the idea. Tim loved them both, but they would just be two more people to let him down too in the end. A part of him wanted to head up to Bludhaven and make sure his experiment was going smoothly. But if he left, the Red Court would have an even easier time sinking it’s teeth into Gotham.

Tim really wasn’t in the mood to give Jason any free passes.

He didn’t need Jason or Bruce. He didn’t need anybody. And if no one would help him, well he’d just change Gotham on his own, and he’d do it his way.

As Tim jumped onto the next rooftop, he thought he saw the flicker of a shadow out of the corner of his eye. He paused and held very still, quickly scanning the area. Nothing moved, but Tim wasn’t fooled.

“Just come out Batman,” Tim said, knowing the other man would hear. He really didn’t want to do this when he was feeling hurt and pissed about Jason. Right now, he might really just tell Bruce how he really felt. But Duke would have definitely told him by now, so he wasn’t all that surprised.

Sure enough Batman’s shadow dropped down before him.

“Say whatever you came to say,” Tim said shortly, “You know as well as I do that-“

There was a soft sound that Tim barely caught and small sharp pain on his neck just above his armor. He didn’t have to wonder what it was as intense dizziness overtook him and he dropped to his knees.

“I’m sorry, Tim,” Bruce said quietly, “We’ll get you help, I promise you.”

“You…” Tim tried to slur as darkness started to take him. Fury coursed through him, but there was nothing he could do.

He was being buried again. He couldn’t move, couldn’t respond, his senses disappearing one by one into darkness. He couldn’t even have a panic attack. And Jason wasn’t coming for him this time.

You’ll pay for this, Tim managed to think, You’ll all pay for this.

God save thee, ancient Mariner!

From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—

Why look'st thou so?'—With your cross-bow

You shot the ALBATROSS.

Chapter Text

Tim realized he couldn’t move long before he realized he was awake.

‘Not again,’ his mind insisted, fury and panic already rising, ‘I can’t. I won’t be kept like an animal again.’

Memories of the last thing he saw before he passed out only increased that anger.

Tim opened his eyes slowly, taking in his position tied to a chair in the sterile room empty of everything except the dark shadow of the Bat lurking in the corner.

“Tim,” Bruce said softly.

Carefully, Tim pushed all his emotions and panic into a little box and locked it up. He would not break down in front of Bruce. He didn’t deserve an ounce of Tim’s vulnerability.

“So where did you decide to lock me up?” Tim said cutting to the chase.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably, “Arkham... for now.”

Tim laughed softly without humor. Arkham. After everything Bruce was going to lock him in Arkham, like his previous partner hadn’t been tortured continuously there by inmates set free by the corrupt staff.

“It’s the only place that could conceivably hold one of us,” Bruce pointed out quietly.

“So you’ll send Jason here too when you catch him? Or have you realized that that would kill him?” Tim inquired cruelly.

Bruce said nothing. They both knew it was true.

“I don’t remember having a trial,” Tim mused, “cutting out the judicial system already?”

“You know too much,” Bruce said simply, “And I know you could do far too much damage on a public stage.”

“So? You give super villains public trials even though they’ll do twice as much damage with them,” Tim said keeping a straight face. He could remember every one of Jason’s rants against Bruce and his hierocracy about the way his treated his allies worse than his enemies. Tim had even defended him sometimes.

Bruce didn’t deserve either of their regard.

“Tim Drake is far too much a public figure to a trail like this without a great deal of scrutiny,” Bruce said.

“You mean ‘Tim Wayne’- or did you forget that you legally changed my name when you adopted me? Dad,” Tim asked bitterly.

Bruce paused and seemed to retreat even further beneath the guise of Batman.

“So you’re willing to stoop low enough to use that kind of emotional blackmail?” Bruce murmured, “It will not work though, I know you could never truly think of me as a father-“

“And whose fault is that? You could have been, but you insisted on being my drill sargent instead,” Tim said, his lock on his emotions wavering, “I was a kid, and you just-“

“Is that it? You’re punishing me for my failures as father by taking it out on the city?” Bruce said straightening up.

“God, you’re so egocentric,” Tim snapped, “It’s not always all about you. And I wouldn’t do that: I love this city. I’ve spent most of my life defending it.”

“So what is it about then?” Bruce asked quietly.

Tim laughed.

“It’s about Gotham, as it always should have been,” Tim said leveling a look at Bruce, “I’ve been studying how we’ve been operating, what’s worked and what hasn’t. And I’ve been working to fix things since I got back. As you would have known if you’d actually been researching what I’ve been doing rather then just kidnapping me out of panic.”

Bruce was silent for a long moment.

“Solitary confinement often has long term effects such as extreme paranoia and a break down of your ability to differentiate between real and imagined threats,” Bruce began.

“You’re not even listening to me,” Tim said with the smallest laugh. He’d known for a while that he’d made the right decision not returning straight to Bruce, but this conversation was really driving that point home.

“I should have realized you weren’t truly dead,” Bruce said, “And I should have saved you sooner before Jason could take advantage of your emotional vulnerability-“

“What?!” Tim reared back, “How can you say that? Jason was the one who saved me.”

“He turned you against me.”

You turned me against you, Tim almost spat. But that wouldn’t be helpful, “That’s not true.”

“You can’t see it now, but hopefully with some time and therapy you will,” Bruce said, in what Tim guessed was supposed to be a comforting voice.

Don’t get visibly angry, Tim reminded himself, that will just make Bruce more convinced that he’s right and that you’re irrational.

“Time and therapy… And that will happen here then?” Tim said, his voice dripping with skepticism.

“I have vetted the doctors that will be working with you myself,” Bruce said, seemingly immensely relieved that Tim seemed more receptive.

How generous.

“I want to work with Black Canary,” Tim said.

“No,” Bruce said, mouth turning down.

“Why? She is usually our official therapist, she knows my history and we’ve had sessions before,” Tim said tilting his head.

“You have shown yourself perfectly capable of coopting your former allies onto the side of evil,” Bruce said flatly.

“The side of evil…” Tim repeated in disbelief, “What exactly do you think I’ve been doing these past few months?”

Bruce stayed silent, merely glared at him.

“You don’t actually have anything on me, do you?” Tim said in slow understanding, “you can’t let anyone know that you have me yet because- you’ve imprisoned me in Arkham without proof?”

“I know you’ve been busy since you’ve been back,” Bruce growled, which was all the confirmation Tim needed, “that you’ve been working very carefully and keeping secrets.”

“Saving the city while you had a meltdown.”

“You’ve been up to something,” Bruce said with certainty.

“So it automatically has to be something bad?” Tim said sarcastically, “Which one of us is supposed to be the paranoid one in need of therapy?”

“I am not interested in letting you twist my words around,” Bruce said turning away from him, “you’ll meet your therapist soon enough.”

“What a joy,” Tim said tonelessly to Bruce’s back. He would not beg him not to leave him there alone.

The door clicked shut and locked.

The silence of the room, the terror of being left alone again, threatened to close in on him. Instead, Tim folded his legs up onto the chair he was tied to and considered his options.

Jason couldn’t come for him; it was Arkham. Bruce didn’t admit it, but that was probably one of the reasons why he was placed here instead of Blackgate. Steph didn’t have the resources to break him out on her own and Cass wouldn’t go against Bruce. Barbara didn’t trust him. Dick would be angry at Bruce, but would still probably assume Bruce had proof he wasn’t sharing despite their estrangement.

None of them except maybe Barbara knew where he was.

Tim was going to have to figure out how to get out of there on his own. Perhaps he could convince Bruce that whatever therapy he set up for him worked enough that he was released and have him take him back- no, Tim would end up killing Bruce in cold blood if he tried to go that route.

At the moment, it was hard to remember why he didn’t want to do that.

There was a light tap on his cell door.

“Tim?” smiled a youngish man with sharp features, “May I come in? I’m your new therapist.”

“Of course,” Tim said inclining his head, debating what sort of strategy he wanted to take with the man.

“I understand you’ve been through quite the trauma recently,” the man said sitting across from Tim, “but don’t worry, I’ve created a wonderful program based on the history your mentor shared with me. We’ll having you feeling much more like yourself in no time.”

Tim recognized the slightly crazed gleam in the doctor’s eyes. Tim wondered if his real therapist would be found in a ditch somewhere. Why did Arkham always attract such insane staff?

In any event, Tim was not in the mood to be manipulated by anyone, much less an armature psychologist playing god.

“That sounds wonderful, I’m sure we’ll work wonderfully together,” Tim said putting on his charmingly grateful smile.

He watched the man fall for it completely.

It turned out he was to have therapy sessions 2 times a day, several hours each. He had a roommate assigned to him, a man so heavily medicated on anti-psychotics that he mostly stared at the ceiling and muttered to himself.

Jason had often mentioned his opinion that death was better option than being sent to a place like this and having all human dignity stripped from you.

Tim took pity of his roommate and adjusted his medication to a much safer dose on the sly. Bruce had made sure that they’d all had the training and testing to do so in case of emergencies, and to detect when malpractices were at work.

It turned out the man wasn’t even guilty of the crime he had been sent there for and besides some intense anxiety and stress brought on by his imprisonment, showed no symptoms of mental-illness.

In small moments between therapy sessions, Tim showed him how he could escape through Arkham’s sewers. Tim wasn’t allowed into places outside his cell (a cruel but probably smart call on Bruce’s part), but his roommate served partial time in the kitchens and should be able to make it.

Tim told him to go to the Red Court with his story. If he was truly innocent, they’d protect him from any retribution. Tim was certain he was innocent, but Jason would do a much more thorough investigation just in case.

Bruce came in the night a week later to glare at him from the shadows. Tim took that to mean that his roommate had escaped successfully. Or maybe this was about the 4 therapists that he’d had that had sudden mental breakdowns and quit.

“Admit it Bruce,” Tim said, “You’re really just punishing me for the audacity of leaving you, aren’t you? Jason left you, Steph left you, now Dick and Damian have left you… you can’t bare the thought of me actually willingly leaving you so you’d rather call me crazy and lock me up until I can be forced to come back to you. Ever think that reason people keep leaving is you?”

Bruce stopped coming to visit after that. Petty bastard.

His 5^th therapist had spent most of their first session practically undressing Tim with his eyes. Tim worked him over thoroughly through the next session and got him to admit that he often ‘became a bit too close’ to his patients with a hungry look at Tim that left no doubt about what he meant. Tim smiled sweetly and told him in great detail how exactly Tim would ruin this man’s career, destroying each level of the man’s life from the ground up.

The next day, Tim had a new therapist. He heard rumors that the last one had killed himself. Or fled the country. It varied depending on the rumor. Tim made a mental note to confirm those rumors once he was free.

At least this time Tim wasn’t being starved (though the food was generally so processed it probably shouldn’t be counted as food) and there were lights. When he wasn't tied to his chair, he could move around and think this time.

So think he did.

Jason had been right on one regard- he admitted with a touch of bitterness- he had perhaps been dreaming too small.

He had made detailed plans for changing Gotham’s vigilante system, but not Gotham overall.

Bruce had carved himself a place in the city where he’d always be needed. The man had built his life on grief and his own ideal of justice. If Tim could create a place where Batman didn’t work or wasn’t needed… well, Tim would have all the excuse he needed to force him to retire. Bruce was an addict, and wasn’t likely go willingly, but Tim didn’t plan to give him a choice. That would be its own punishment.

This wouldn’t happen anytime soon, Tim would have to be very patient and bide his time. Gotham was still too dependent on Batman.

But maybe with something like the Red Court in place…

He still didn’t think it was a good idea, but it could be an interesting experiment as they restructured the power systems in the city. The longer he thought about it, the more opportunities he began to see.

Tim wondered if removing Batman would be enough to satisfy the furious, hurt, thing in his chest. If anything would. That wouldn’t be the point of doing any of it, of course. No, Tim would do it for Gotham’s sake. If Bruce was willing to imprison operatives over paranoia without proof, he needed to be removed. It wasn’t personal. Tim wouldn’t let it be.

He wished he could consult Jason on some of these ideas.

Why hadn’t he ever made a move with Jason? Why hadn’t he ever taken his hand any of those dozens of times they’d lay in bed together, and encouraged him to touch him more? Jason would have, Tim knew it almost instinctively. It would have felt amazing, so why hadn’t he?

Tim wasn’t sure if he was still pissed at Jason or not. His fury at Bruce and his hypocrisy eclipsed most of his ill feelings about the Red Court. Not all of them, but many of them. If Jason had asked him to join him today, Tim would say yes, and then subtly try and reshape things. In the end, Jason had still gone behind his back though. Tim still wanted to punish him for that somehow…

Just not quite as much as he wanted to punish Bruce.

They didn’t bother replacing his 9^th therapist. He hadn’t been given another roommate after he crippled the 4^th for trying to come onto him in his sleep. Whatever promises Bruce had made about not having Tim in solitary confinement were either broken, or Bruce had forgotten about him recently.

He was left completely alone again. The only person who knew he existed was the guard who brought him meals.

In the end, for all Bruce’s good intentions, his negligence made him almost as bad as the villains they put away.

Tim tried to hold on to that thought- that outrage- as panic and terror took over and then ever so slowly turned to apathy and depression.

Distantly, Tim could hear the screaming and laughter of the inmates, but it wasn’t enough to penetrate the fog of hopelessness.

He had to hang on, if only for spite.

Another part of him wanted to know who he was supposed to be spiting by surviving? Bruce would take it harder if he killed himself in here. He’d be immortalized as life lesson for anyone who came after.

It was better than being forgotten down here in a cell. Again.

His door banged open.

“If Bruce has ruined you with this, I’m taking a crowbar to him myself,” Tim jerked and stared up in shock at Jason striding towards him, blood on his boots and keys in hand.

“You’re- you can’t be here,” Tim said dumbly, “This is Arkham- Jason, you said you’d rather die than-”

“I know,” Jason said striding over and tossing him a pair of clothes, tension all through him, “But don’t think I don’t know this isn’t your personal hell too. I wasn’t going to leave you in here. I’m not a fucking monster.”

“Jay…” Tim didn’t know what to say. He knew what this must be costing Jason just to be here, and at that moment it was washing away any bitterness he’d been having over their fallout.

“Hurry up,” snapped Jason, agitation palpable, “O can only cover our asses for so long before B figures out what’s going on.”

“Oracle is helping us?” Tim said in surprise as he hurriedly pulled the clothes over what he was already wearing.

“She’s been following your work since you got back. She kept quite about it to the rest of the Bat’s because she approves of your program overall. I was gearing up to come get you already when she contacted me and told me she had a way in. She was apparently pissed Bats imprisoned you without proof,” Jason said, with a small shrugging motion that lost a lot of it’s casualness given how tense he was.

“Trap?” asked Tim as they hurried out.

“Unlikely. B wouldn’t approved all the dead bodies he’d know would pile up if he sent me in here. O doesn’t care.” Jason said, pulling Tim through the maze of hallways with a familiarity that Tim would rather not think about.

“Another morally grey person in the family,” murmured Tim.

“It’s nice to have company, isn’t it?” Jason said dryly.

“More than you know,” Tim murmured, thinking of cold cells and nothingness.

“C’mon, this way,” Jason took his hand and tugged Tim gently but urgently through the maze of Arkham.

Apparently, supporters of the Red Court had spread to Arkham and a few of the guards had been convinced to help Tim escape. Apparently they believed he was an innocent being kept there illegally for political reasons by some rich guy… which was kind of true.

“Did Bruce take you after we split?” Jason asked quietly as they were smuggled out of the prison in a supply truck, “He covered up pretty much all the details of your imprisonment, so it was super hard to find you.”

“Yeah,” Tim murmured, feeling tension unwinding from something deep inside as he sat tucked against Jason’s warm side. He wondered if Jason had missed this as much as he had, “right after I left, actually.”

“Bastard…” Jason muttered, gripping him a little tighter, “If I’d known- I thought you’d walked out for good and were avoiding me. And then maybe I thought you’d left the city. But you hadn’t contacted your ex or Oracle or anything so then I started…”

Tim listened, feeling warmth spread inside him just knowing Jason had been annoyed enough- worried enough, to go try and talk to Steph and Barbara to check on him.

“I didn’t think he would put you in Arkham. I didn’t look there until that cellmate of yours slipped you name. After everything- I thought there was least some shit B wouldn’t pull,” the anger in Jason’s voice was cold and dangerous.

Tim didn’t even try not to smile.

No alarms blared- Tim wasn’t an official prisoner after all- but they both knew an alert would have been triggered in the Batcave by now. They ditched the car as soon as they could and jumped onto the roof of the 10pm train.

Tim closed his eyes and relished the wind on his face. All the scents and smells and sounds of the city. In one sense, it was too much after deprived of so much stimulus… he felt shaky and overwhelmed. On the other hand, he couldn’t get enough.

Jason wrapped an arm around Tim’s waist and nodded towards an upcoming building. Tim grabbed onto Jason and a moment later he was firing off his grapple and they were in the air. Only lots of practice prevented the two of them from crashing into the rooftop. Jason let out a huff of breath as he stumbled back against the roof-entry door, Tim falling against him.

Not really knowing why, Tim reached up for the catches for Jason’s helmet. When he realized what he was trying to do, Jason helped him pull it off and drop it to the side. Tim lightly touched his face and traced the dark circles under his eyes. He wondered if those were for him.

“I’ve spent a lot of time wishing I’d gotten in a good punch before I left,” Tim murmured.

“Yeah… you too.”

Tim didn’t know which one of them moved first, but he didn’t really care. All he knew was that his hand was buried in Jason’s curls and Jason’s hand was on his cheek and that they were finally kissing. Finally. It didn’t feel like a first kiss though. It was too familiar. Like they’d been doing this for ages, and this was just another greeting after a long time apart.

In some ways, they had.

“You came for me,” Tim murmured when they broke apart, still barely able to believe the situation, “You went into Arkham for me.”

“Yeah,” Jason said staring back at him.

“You kissed me.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought…” Tim started feeling his face twist up, “God, I thought I’d been left there. I thought-“

“No, never. I’d always have come for you,” Jason said hard and sure, gripping his face and making him look at him when Tim started to turn away, “Always.”

“It would have been easier to leave me,” Tim said searching his face, “We- you know I might get in your way again if I think what you’re doing is wrong. You could have just forgotten me there.”

“No,” Jason said even more sharply, bruising Tim’s face a little, “I could never forget.”

“Jason…” Tim closed his eyes and leaned into Jason’s grip a little.

“Besides,” Jason continued, a little softer, “You promised to keep me from turning into a villain. Partner.”

“Yeah,” Tim laughed a little, “I guess I did.”

Jason’s eyes were burning, and Tim wasn’t in the least surprised when he was pulled in for another kiss. Tim sort of wanted to keep doing this forever, but…

“We should…” he murmured quietly, pulling away. They had just broken him out of prison.

“Right,” Jason’s hand lingered on his face or a moment before pulling away, “yeah, let’s get the fuck home before any Bat’s turn up and ruin things.”

“Yeah…” Tim felt a little cold now that Jason was walking towards the edge of the roof. But he thought of their safehouse, the books and weapons and computers, the warmth of their bed and the way that Jason trusted Tim enough to fall asleep next to him.

A few years ago, if someone had told Tim this would be his life, he’d never have believed them.

“Jason?” Tim called.

“Hmm?”

“I’d never forget you either,” Tim promised.

“I know,” Jason said and reached for him.

Tim smiled and reached back.