Archive of Our Own

Tim ran his fingers over the pictures in his photo album. The edges were crisp and straight, held in place by the tack he’d bought. He smiled, letting the book fall shut. He shoved it back in its place on his shelf between the other albums filled with similar pictures of Gotham nights and snapshots of Batman and Robin.

He pulled the zipper of his hooded jacket up and reached for his camera, pulling the strap around his neck and slipping extra batteries and another roll of film into his pocket. He scrambled onto his bed and pushed the window open. Bracing himself on the sill, he looked between himself and the tree branch he’d scaled countless times. The gap wasn’t anything to laugh at, but he’d done it so many times, he just needed to relax and leap.

The rustle of leaves whispered on the wind as Tim crawled across the branch and scaled down the tree, dropping from branch to branch with practiced ease. He almost felt like Robin without being able to fly from rooftop to rooftop and knowing next to nothing about hand-to-hand combat. He’d read all the books and theories on techniques, but he was old enough to understand theory and practice were two very different things, thank you very much.

He dropped the last bit of distance to the ground and landed in a crouch before taking off across the yard. He slipped through the crack in the fence around their property that was just big enough for him to fit through. Soon, he knew he’d have to find a way to climb over it or a different way to go through which could get tricky if the hinges squeaked. But that was something to worry about later. He had more important things to do and vigilantes to take photos of.

He didn’t have a care in the world as he ran past houses towards the main city, but once he got to the outskirts of clusters of apartment buildings and offices, he slowed his pace, paying more attention to his surroundings and sticking to the shadows. He put the hood of his jacket up and kept his camera close, not wanting to risk tucking it inside his jacket in case he missed an opportunity for a shot.

There were a few stragglers on the street. He got more suspicious looks than concerned ones considering he was much shorter than everyone he passed. No doubt they thought he was out causing trouble and would take what he could from purses and pockets if he was allowed to get close enough.

Tim didn’t much mind them being suspicious of him. He wasn’t on the streets for their attention anyway.

Each time he passed an alley, his eyes would automatically look down it to see if there was anyone tucked away, mugger or otherwise. After several streets of relative quiet and when he was getting closer to the more crime-ridden areas of the city, Tim found a building with an easily accessible fire escape. He climbed up it carefully, trying not to make any noise, but there was no mistaking the dull ringing that still whistled in the air.

He thought he was getting better at it, but he still had a long way to go if he wanted to be anywhere close to what Batman and Robin could do. He hurried over to the building ledge and planted his hands on it so he could lean out and look over the streets below him. He grinned down at the sidewalks below and looked over to the buildings around him.

He felt giddy. He ran around the perimeter of the roof, taking in his surroundings and the alleys that bordered the building. He couldn’t spot anything on the horizon yet, but he could only hope that they hadn’t already covered that part of Gotham yet.

Tim pulled the lens cap off his camera and looked through the viewfinder, zooming in and out along the skyline to see if he could pick anything out yet, but all seemed to stay quiet. He snapped a couple of shots of the bigger buildings that stood out on the horizon, but didn’t find anything too interesting. He sighed and walked around the edge of the building again, searching for somewhere darker where he could hide himself in case they got too close.

He wedged himself into a corner experimentally, testing how comfortable it was. There was a heating and cooling unit next to him, offering more cover. It was the best spot he was going to get on a bare rooftop and was better than nothing.

“Robin, I thought I told you to be more careful.”

Tim’s breath caught and he froze. He twisted around in his nook and raised his head to peek over the edge of the building. Batman and Robin were on the rooftop next to him and he felt his heartrate pick up. He raised his camera slowly, conscious of his movements.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, kicking his shoe against the roof.

Batman sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think it might be best if you take care of a small patrol tonight. If you find anything bigger than a smalltime robbery or mugging, contact me. I don’t want you going in alone.”

“But I can help!” he said, throwing out his arms.

“You can help me by taking a small patrol. I don’t need you putting yourself in unnecessary danger by being reckless.”

Tim steadied his camera on the building ledge and looked through the viewfinder. He gently pressed down on the button, biting his lip when the shutter clicked. It sounded loud in the silence and he waited for them to turn on him and demand to know why he was taking pictures.

“I’ll check in on you later,” Batman said, before turning and heading back the way Tim assumed they came from.

Tim let out an unsteady breath and lowered his camera, huddling back behind the wall. Robin stood there, watching Batman depart. He put his hand up to his ear.

“Understood,” he murmured.

Tim flinched back as Robin turned in his direction, but he stopped short of facing him, running to the edge of the building he was on and flying away across Gotham. Tim let out a relieved breath and rose from his crouch, knowing he’d already lost sight of him and mourned the opportunity to take more pictures.

“What are you doing here, kid?”

Tim jumped and whirled around, clutching his camera close to his chest. Robin stood on the opposite side of the building from him, hands on his hips.

“I-uh-I’m-“ he stuttered. “You’re Robin,” he finally breathed, trying not to freak out.

He raised an eyebrow and walked a couple steps closer to Tim. “And you’re a kid hanging out on a rooftop late at night. Where are your parents? Shouldn’t they have a tighter hold on you?”

Tim’s stomach dropped and he looked down at the rooftop, scuffing his shoe across it like Robin had done earlier. “They don’t halfway notice when I’m in the same room as them. They’d hardly be observant enough to know when I sneak out of the house at night.”

Robin huffed. “Well how do you expect me to be mad when you pull out a sob story like that?” Tim glanced up at him through his eyelashes and watched him come closer. He crouched in front of Tim, propping his cheek against one of his fists and grinning crookedly. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re out so late on a rooftop.”

Tim fiddled with the camera in his hands.

Robin nodded towards it. “Pictures?” he asked.

He bit his lip and nodded.

“Why?”

Tim stared down at his camera. “Because.”

Robin chuckled. “Well, as much as I would hate to cripple the artistic talents of an aspiring photographer, I can’t just leave you up here alone at night. I’d be a shame if you got hurt, so I’m going to have to take you home, okay?”

Tim pouted.

“Now, don’t give me that,” he said, standing and wagging a finger at him. “I can’t leave you out here alone and I have to patrol so I can’t shadow you all night either. You got a name?”

“Tim.”

“Well, Tim,” Robin said, holding out his hand and dipping into a bow. “Will you let me have the honor of escorting you home?”

He blushed at the attention and nodded, placing his fingers against Robin’s gloved palm. Robin curled his fingers around Tim’s hand and led him to the edge of the roof. He didn’t make a sound as they descended the metal steps where it seemed like every step Tim took rang loudly into the night.

“How do you do that?” Tim muttered when they reached the ground and hit the sidewalk.

“Do what?” Robin asked, gaze sweeping the street as they walked.

“How do you stay silent when you’re moving up and down the stairs?”

Robin grinned down at him. “Practice.”

“So if I practice I can be as good as you one day?”

“Sure you can, kid.”

“Why do you keep calling me kid?” Tim asked as they turned a street corner.

Robin cocked his head to the side as he looked at him. “Because you’re a kid.”

“So are you,” Tim pointed out.

“I’m older than you.” He grinned and Tim pouted. “But if it makes you feel better, I can call you Tim. Or Timmy.”

Tim sighed. “I don’t like being called, Timmy.”

“Can you make an exception for me?” Robin asked, grinning down at him.

Tim blushed, flexing his hand in Robin’s grip. “I guess,” he mumbled.

“Okay, where to from here?” he asked, stopping at a street corner.

“This way,” he said, pulling the Boy Wonder along.

Tim was a little surprised they didn’t run into any crime on their way back, but it was still early so maybe that had something to do with it. Robin whistled when they got to the gate surrounding his house.

“You sure live in a pretty big place,” he said, looking over it.

“Yeah.”

“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Tim slipped through the hole in the fence he always used when he was coming and going, but Robin climbed over easily, dropping to the ground on the other side. He helped Tim back up into the tree and got him settled inside, perching on the windowsill.

“There. Safe and sound back home,” he said with a smile. “No more night escapades. Okay, Timmy? It’s dangerous and I don’t want you getting hurt. Now, I’d love to stay and hang around, but I’ve got bad guys to catch and a big ol’ bat to help.”

Robin grinned and gave a little salute before jumping back over to the tree and dropping down from branch to branch until he could sprint across the yard. Tim watched even after he couldn’t see his silhouette or the ruffle of a cape anymore. He leaned against his bedroom window and let the breeze ruffle his hair. He sighed and smiled.

He couldn’t wait for the next night.

~~

Tim peeked over the edge of the roof, making sure it was clear before he climbed over. He didn’t want to be caught off guard by Robin or Batman. Especially when Robin had asked him to stay home the night before. He fingered the chocolate bar in his pocket. He wasn’t sure why he’d grabbed it. Okay, he was kind of sure, but it didn’t make him feel any more confident in what he was trying to do.

He crouched in a corner and readied his camera, taking slow breaths to keep himself as relaxed as possible. He’d gone further into Gotham this time, hoping to catch them earlier on their route. He caught a glimpse of a cape on the row of buildings opposite and took several pictures. He cocked his head to the side when he realized Robin was alone again. He held up his camera and took more shots, catching him mid-run and flying through the air.

Tim smiled. He couldn’t wait to develop those later and see what kinds of colors came out. Robin made a sharp turn in his direction and Tim crouched down, readying his camera. He got a few shots of him mid-grapple onto the rooftop he was on before he stopped and put his hands on his hips.

“I thought I told you not to go out on your own this late at night,” he said.

Tim fidgeted before pushing himself from his corner. “But I brought you something,” he said, hoping that would tame any sort of ire he might have.

Robin cocked his head. “Brought me something? Why would you need to bring me something, Timmy?”

“To say thank you I guess?” He fumbled to pull the chocolate bar out of his pocket. “I thought you might get hungry in the middle of the night, too. You know, having to run around and fight criminals all night…” he trailed off, holding out the chocolate bar.

Robin stepped closer and took it from his hand. He huffed a laugh and grinned. “Thanks, Timmy. Want to split it with me?” he asked.

“No, no you don’t have to do that. I brought it for you-“

“Tim,” he interrupted. “I want to share it with you. Isn’t that what friends do? They share stuff?”

“Umm…I guess? I don’t really have friends,” he mumbled.

“Well,” Robin said, pulling open the wrapper. “I’m your friend now.” He broke off half the chocolate bar and handed it to Tim, munching on his own half.

“Thanks.”

“So are you ever going to listen to me?”

Tim cocked his head. “About what?”

“About not going out at night by yourself.”

Tim shrugged. “Probably not,” he admitted.

Robin sighed and shook his head. “Timmy…”

“I’ve been doing it for this long. I can get home alright.”

“That’s not the point. The point is that the streets are dangerous at night and there’s no guarantee you won’t get hurt.”

“But if I don’t come down to Gotham, who’s going to give you snacks? And I won’t get to see you. If we’re friends then I should get to see my friend,” Tim pouted.

Robin groaned, his shoulders sagging. “This would be so much easier if you actually knew who I was.”

“Actually it wouldn’t change anything,” Tim reasoned. “Because I would still want to take pictures.”

He sighed. “Fine. But you have to promise me you’ll be extra careful and stay out of trouble.”

“Promise,” Tim said, grinning brightly.

“Okay, thanks for the chocolate bar, Timmy, but I’ve gotta get back to patrol.”

Tim waved him off as he flew to the next building and took off running. He went back to his corner and tucked himself away, waiting to see what else would come his way.

~~

After a week, the rest stops were pretty regular between him and Robin. No matter where Tim settled in for the night, he always managed to find him. They sat on the ledges of buildings, shoulders nearly touching as their legs dangled over the side. Tim had gotten in the habit of bringing an extra snack so Robin wouldn’t give him half of his.

Tonight, Robin’s shoulders sagged when he sat down.

“Rough night?” Tim asked holding out a granola bar this time.

“Yeah, Timmy. Rough couple of days,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

He glanced at him before letting out another heavy breath. “B’s mad at me.”

“Oh. What’d you do this time?” he asked, ripping open the wrapping on his own granola bar.

“What makes you think it was my fault?” Robin scoffed.

Tim cocked his head. “Well, don’t you guys usually argue over differences of opinion and ways of fighting and stuff? That’s what you made it seem like the others times you’ve fought.”

“This is worse,” he mumbled.

“How so?”

“Because,” he said, turning to straddle the roof ledge, gloved hands planted on the concrete in front of him. “This time he’s mad that I stop and talk to you at night. He thinks you’re dangerous. He doesn’t want me to see you anymore,” he trailed off with a whisper.

Tim felt his stomach sink and pulled his knees to his chest. For some reason, the crushing disappointment that came with being left by someone felt a million times worse now that it was coming from Robin. He tried to force a smile, but felt it deteriorate quickly. Pressure built behind his eyes and he fought it back. He couldn’t cry in front of Robin. He couldn’t.

“It’s-it’s okay. I don’t want you to get in trouble be-because of me or anything,” he said. He crushed the granola bar tightly in his hand, breaking it into pieces, some of them falling from the wrapper to the street below. “I-I should go,” he said, climbing down onto the roof when the pressure behind his eyes got worse.

“But Timmy!” Robin called after him.

Tim hurried to the fire escape and sniffled, trying to keep his vision clear, until bright green and red filled it.

“Timmy,” Robin whispered, sinking down to his knees. He sniffed again and brought up a hand to clear his vision, feeling the wet tear tracks on his cheeks.

“You-you should listen to Batman and do what he says,” Tim said. “I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“But I don’t want to abandon my best friend,” he said. “Who am I going to talk to if you’re gone?”

Tim shook his head. “You have other friends.”

“How do you know?” he asked. “How do you know you’re not my only and bestest friend in the world?”

“I can’t be.”

“Why not?” he asked, cocking his head.

“Because you’re too nice and good to not have any other friends,” Tim hiccupped.

Robin smiled. He stood and pulled Tim into a tight hug. Tim wrapped his arms around him, clutching at the back of his suit like a lifeline.

“Don’t worry, Timmy. You’re still my friend and I’m not going to stop coming by to see you,” he said softly, nose buried in Tim’s hair. “Okay?”

Tim nodded into his uniform. Robin pulled back and looked down at him, chucking his chin with his finger. “I’ve gotta get back to patrol now, okay?”

Tim nodded and wiped away the last lingering tears.

“Thanks, Tim,” he breathed before turning on his heel and running to the edge of the building before flipping through the air and landing in a crouch on the next rooftop. Tim wrapped his arms around himself. Not because he was cold, but because an intense warmth spread through him and he was worried if he didn’t hold it inside himself he’d lose it forever.

~~

“Uh…Robin?” Tim asked when he was pulled into a tight hug without even a greeting from the Boy Wonder.

“Sorry,” he sighed, but didn’t move away. “I had a rough week and it’s…it’s just really good to see you,” he said, squeezing him closer.

“No, it’s okay,” he said, feeling his face heat up. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now. Maybe after I get back.”

Tim’s brow furrowed. “Back? Back from where?”

Robin pulled back and sat down on the roof ledge. “I’m going to be gone for a couple days. There’s something I have to investigate. Shouldn’t take too long. And when I get back I’ll tell you about it.”

“Oh. Okay,” Tim said, sitting down next to him. He fidgeted before pulling out a chocolate bar. “Do you want this? I don’t know about you, but I think chocolate helps make bad days better.” His hand lowered a little. He cleared his throat, feeling awkward and embarrassed.

Robin smiled at him. “Yeah, thanks.” He took the chocolate bar in one hand and threw his other arm around Tim’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Thanks, Timmy.”

Tim blushed and reached for his own chocolate bar. “No need to thank me, that’s what friends are for, right?”

He huffed a laugh. “Right.”

“Hey, do you think-“ Tim started and stopped himself.

“Hm? What?”

Tim’s blush deepened. “Do you think we could take a picture together?” he asked, holding up his camera.

“Definitely!”

Tim smiled and adjusted the settings before turning the camera around so the lens was facing them. Robin put his face up against Tim’s. Tim let out a slow breath and put on his best smile. He released the shutter several times, hoping that at least one of the pictures turned out. He wouldn’t know until he developed them later.

“And if none of those look good, we can take another, okay?” Robin said.

Tim nodded and bit his lip, feeling the warmth from the other night return.

~~

Tim paced around the rooftop he found and checked his watch. It was later than usual and he was starting to wonder where Robin was.

He hadn’t seen any sign of Batman either.

Tim felt nervousness curl in his gut. He hoped they weren’t in trouble.

~~

Tim practically slammed his door shut, but stopped himself so he wouldn’t attract unnecessary attention. His mother would get on to him about manners if she heard the reverberations through the house. He choked back a gasping breath that was dangerously close to a sob and crumpled the newspaper page harder in his hand.

He stumbled across the room, reaching for his scrapbooks and the pictures of Robin-of Jason. He flipped them open, letting his fingers trail over the shots of him flying over the rooftops with Batman and by himself. He curled his fist onto the page, wanting to rip them to shreds, but not being able to bring himself to destroy the few reminders he had of him.

He sniffled and smoothed out the newspaper next to the scrapbook. He looked over the professional picture of Jason in a suit and tie. He was smiling, but it wasn’t the genuine smiles he got to see on the rooftops. He looked over the headline: Bruce Wayne’s Charge Dies in Freak Accident.

Tim pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the small box he kept on the shelf with his scrapbooks. He pulled it down and took off the lid, reaching for one of the pictures inside. He held it between shaky fingers. It was the last night they’d spent together. The picture Robin-Jason-had agreed to take.

“I want to share it with you. Isn’t that what friends do? They share stuff?”

“I’m your friend now.”

“But I don’t want to abandon my best friend. Who am I going to talk to if you’re gone?”

You’re still my friend and I’m not going to stop coming by to see you.”

He felt like his heart was breaking into a million pieces. He sobbed and ran his fingers over Jason’s face.

“Who am I going to talk to now that you’re gone?” he whispered.

~~

It was days before Tim was able to pull himself out of his bed and go back to Gotham with his camera. He knew he wasn’t going to see Robin, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when it felt like he was being haunted every corner he turned.

He felt the weight of the two granola bars in his pocket like a shackle. He’d done it without thinking, but once he’d realized he had two, he couldn’t throw the second one away.

The sound of pained yells broke him out of his thoughts. He rushed to the edge of the roof and looked over the side. He blinked in surprise when he saw Batman below him. He was smashing a man’s face into the side of the brick building. Tim flinched back. It was obvious he wasn’t putting up a fight, but Batman wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t just angry, his fighting was filled with pain and anguish. The type of anguish Tim felt all too familiar with.

“Batman!” he called.

His fist froze and he looked up, Tim knew his gaze was sharp behind the mask. He released his grip on the criminal he was beating up and he crumpled to the ground. He shot his grapple not up to the building, but off into the distance, disappearing into the night.

Tim sighed as he watched him go. “What happened to you?” he whispered into the night.

~~

He wasn’t sure what brought him to the graveyard. Maybe it was a sense of morbid curiosity or the need to see with his own eyes. A gravestone can’t lie, right? Or maybe he knew what he’d find there and there was this need to just be there. He could be with Jason without him actually being there.

The grave was still fresh. The outline of the dirt clear where it had been dug. Tim sat at the foot of the turned earth and stared at the gravestone. He fiddled with the granola bar in his hands and sniffed as the tears came.

“Hi Jason,” he mumbled. “I know you never told me your name when you were still alive, but I kind of knew it before you died. See, I’ve known for years who Batman is. It wasn’t that hard to figure out once I started thinking about it if I’m being honest,” he said with a little laugh. Tim sniffed and sobered. “I miss you,” he admitted.

“I miss you so much. When I saw that you died, I just…I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to rip apart my scrapbooks, you know? I wanted to tear out all the pictures of you and Batman flying across Gotham’s rooftops. I wanted it all to disappear if it meant the pain would go away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t rip you out of my life. I-I need you.”

He sighed.

“Something’s wrong with Bruce. I think it’s because you’re gone. He’s upset and in pain and he needs someone to be there for him. He needs a Robin. He needs you.”

He sighed again and looked at the curved top of the gravestone. He could almost imagine Jason sitting there in his Robin costume, cheek propped in hand as he grinned crookedly. Tim wished he was sitting there and that all of this was some weird dream or plan by Batman to solve some sort of crime no one else knew was going on.

“I still carry two granola bars with me when I go into Gotham at night. I know you don’t like me walking alone, but I’m careful. I haven’t taken many pictures lately. Gotham seems darker than usual,” he whispered.

He looked around at the other graves and the shockingly green grass. The sun wasn’t shining, but that wasn’t unusual for the city and Tim wouldn’t know what to do with the sun if it was out. It didn’t seem appropriate. He pushed himself to his feet and walked around the edges of the dirt to the gravestone.

“I should go, but if it’s okay with you I’ll come visit again. Oh, and here,” he placed the granola bar on top of the gravestone. “Next time I’ll bring one for me, too.”

Tim’s hand fell from the stone and he turned away, trudging across the grass silently.

~~

“Ah, so you’re the one who’s been leaving the snacks for Master Jason.”

Tim looked up from where he was staring at the grave, granola bar in hand. An elderly man in a suit was standing there. He had a pail in hand and was wearing what looked to be gardening gloves.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sure I’m intruding.” He knew he should make a move to get up, but he wasn’t ready to pull himself away.

“Nonsense,” he said, kneeling down next to Tim and setting the pale to the side. “It’s wonderful to see that there are more people who miss him. Master Bruce has been taking it rather hard.”

Tim nodded. “He’s hurt. He needs someone. A new partner. I’m afraid he’ll break his no-killing rule if he’s allowed to go on much longer. He needs time to heal and he needs someone to help him heal.”

“So you know,” he said.

Tim nodded. “I figured it out ages ago.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“May I ask your name?”

“Tim,” he offered.

“Master Timothy, I am Alfred Pennyworth, Master Bruce’s butler,” he said holding out his hand.

Tim shook it with his own. “Nice to formally meet you,” he said.

Alfred smiled. “Now that introductions are over, I think it would be best if you accompanied me back to Wayne Manor if you are able and your afternoon is free.”

Tim blinked. “What for?”

“Why, you said it yourself. Master Bruce requires our help,” he said with a smile. He rose to his feet and began picking his way back the way he came. “Come on, then,” he called back. “We haven’t got all day.”

Tim grinned and scrambled to his feet. He ran a few feet before pausing. He looked down at the granola bar in his hand and hurried back to the grave, placing it on top. His fingers dragged over the cool cement as he turned and chased down Alfred who was making remarkably fast progress across the sea of the dead.

~~

“Are you sure about this?” Tim asked, looking at the suit in front of him. The suit that had been Jason’s.

“Sadly we do not have the time to make you a new suit, Master Timothy so this will have to do for now. I can make you a proper suit later,” Alfred said, folding up the pieces of the suit and stacking them in a neat pile.

“You’re sure he’ll listen to me?” Tim asked.

“You said so yourself, Master Timothy. Batman needs a Robin and only a true Robin would step forth to take on that role,” he said, holding out the uniform. “Now, I suggest you get changed. We’re short on time.”

Tim nodded and took the uniform in his hands. He could only hope Jason would forgive him for this.

~~

Tim gasped as his back hit the cement of the roof. He scrambled to his feet despite the pain that radiated through his side. He stopped short when he caught sight of the red helmet and the leather jacket.

“I can’t believe you,” he hissed. “Making yourself into the good soldier for Batman. After everything he’s done?!”

Tim flinched at the harsh tone.

“Didn’t you care about yourself at all? Didn’t you care about me?”

He turned and fled. Tim thought he probably should’ve chased after him, but he crumpled, falling to his knees on the roof. He couldn’t breathe and he didn’t know what he should be feeling. Relief? Happiness? His own anger at having been thrown across a rooftop? He fisted his hands against the roof and pushed himself into action, sprinting across the roof before flipping to the next, following the path Jason had taken.

“Oracle,” he said, patching into his comm.

“Robin,” she answered.

Tim fought down the smile that threatened to pull at his lips. He had something more serious to take care of.

“I need you to track Red Hood’s path across Gotham. He has about a fifteen second head start on me.”

“Got it. Tracking out from your location now.”

There was a few moments of silence.

“Strange,” she muttered.

“What?”

“It looks like he’s headed for the graveyard…”

“On it. Let me know if he changes course.”

“You got it.”

Tim picked up his pace, pulling his grapple free so he could cut down his travel time. He wasn’t that far off from the graveyard. Had been there enough times to know how to get there pretty much from anywhere in the city. He pursed his lips and tried moving faster, pushing himself harder, not knowing what he was going to find when he got there.

He was gasping for air by the time he swung down inside the gates of the graveyard. He saw a lone figure standing over a grave. He stalked forward, fighting to get his breathing under control. Red Hood turned to him as he approached.

“You can have it back,” Tim offered. “It’s yours.”

“What makes you think I want it back? It got me killed,” he scoffed.

“You think I wanted this in the first place?” Tim asked.

“You took it, didn’t you?”

“Only because Batman was tearing himself apart after you died. He needed someone to help and no one else was willing. I never wanted to be you! I never wanted to replace you.”

He laughed, low and dark. “You did a fine job with that.”

“So take it back,” Tim said, unclasping the cape and holding it out. “Take it all back.”

“I told you, I don’t want it.” He turned and stalked off into the darkness. Tim let him go, his own eyes settling on the grave in front of him. He looked at the patchy grass in front of the headstone and the crumpled, half-buried candy wrapper.

Tim secured his cape around his neck and turned away from the grave and back towards the Manor. He had something he needed to do.

The trek back felt like an eternity. His thoughts were a whirlwind inside his brain and his emotions were no better. The only thing he was certain of was that it was time. He was done and there was nothing that could stop him from leaving this behind.

It was still early enough that Alfred was the only person in the Cave.

“Master Timothy,” he said, surprised. “You’re back early.”

He nodded. “I’m going to grab a shower, Alfred. I would appreciate it if you could have some tea made for when I’m done. I’d like to talk to you about something if we can.”

“Of course, Master Timothy. There are clean towels in the showers and a spare change of clothes for you. You can leave your uniform in the provided hamper and it will get cleaned.”

Tim nodded. “Thank you, Alfred.”

He unclasped his cape and walked into the showers. He was grateful for the silence that was only broken by the sound of his footfalls on the linoleum. He dropped the cape into the hamper and stripped out of the other pieces of his uniform. He stepped into one of the stalls and let hot water flow over him. He stared at the floor, water cascading over his head for a few moments before he reached for the soap to get himself cleaned up.

He unrolled one of the clean towels and toweled dry, wrapping it around his waist as he dug through his locker for the pile of clothes that was there. He dressed and left the towel around his shoulders to catch and stray droplets of water that fell from the strands of his hair.

Alfred had pulled up a second chair to the BatComputer and had a tray situated between the two with sandwiches and a pot of tea. Tim sat across from him and accepted the cup of tea that was held out to him.

“So what did you wish to talk about, Master Timothy?” he asked, stirring a lump of sugar into his own cup and giving him his full attention despite the footage that was playing out on the screen.

“I don’t think I can be Robin anymore,” he admitted.

“And why is that?”

“It’s…not mine. I really shouldn’t have taken it in the first place, but Bruce needed someone and I chose to be there. He doesn’t need me anymore.”

Alfred nodded. “Are you done being a vigilante for good or are you planning to continue as Master Richard has done?”

Tim shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to stop, but I don’t exactly know where to go. I don’t have the resources or skills to be completely on my own, but I don’t need the tutelage that comes with being someone’s sidekick.”

Alfred nodded. “If I may make a suggestion, Master Timothy.”

“Of course, Alfred.”

“Master Richard had the desire to spread his wings a bit farther than you do. That was one of the reasons he left Gotham behind. As you are still so young, there is no need for you leave, but you may still create your own identity. Find your own wings, if you will. Continue to partner with Batman, but work with the other vigilantes as well. You will gain both new skills and new allies in the process, I’m sure.”

Tim smiled. “Thanks, Alfred. I’m not sure exactly what I’m going to do yet, but you’ve certainly given me something to think about.”

“Of course, Master Timothy. Would you care for a sandwich?” he asked, holding out the plate.

Tim nodded and took one of the triangles between his fingers

~~

Tim narrowed his eyes when he walked through the door to his apartment. The lights were off, but he knew he wasn’t alone. He slipped into the kitchen and turned on the light. Jason was seated on his kitchen island, helmet resting next to his hip.

“Why are you here?” Tim asked.

Jason blew out a breath and looked up at the ceiling. “Don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Tim snorted. “Yeah, right. You always planned a few steps ahead even if you wanted to try and make everyone think your behavior was irrational.” He walked over to the cabinet and pulled a glass free, sticking it under the tap to fill with water. When he turned Jason was behind him. He boxed him in with his arms. Tim cocked his head and looked at him.

Jason’s gaze was hard. There was a wall in his eyes, blocking everything inside.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” he murmured.

Jason’s hands fisted at his elbows and he hung his head. “I want to…but I don’t.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tim whispered. “And I know you don’t want to.”

“When have I ever made sense?” Jason asked.

Tim chuckled and took a sip from his glass, swirling the liquid inside. “If it makes you feel any better,” he sighed. “I’m not going to be Robin anymore. I can’t be.”

“I’m not-“

“I know,” Tim said, cutting off his protest. “I don’t expect you to take it back, but it’s not for me anymore. I’m not ready to go full solo, but I can’t be Batman’s sidekick anymore.”

“You could give it all up?” Jason whispered.

Tim smiled sadly. “I can’t. I’m in too deep.”

“But what if you-“ Jason protested, head snapping up to look at Tim. There was a fire in his gaze that Tim hadn’t been expecting. “You could get hurt,” he amended.

“It’s a little late for that. I’ve been hurt and I’ll get hurt again. Sadly, it’s not enough to stop me from fighting crime.”

Jason growled and pushed off from the counter, stalking around Tim’s kitchen island. Tim could see where his jaw was clenched and his hands balled into fists at his sides. He could see the walls going up.

“Fine. Do whatever you want. I don’t even know why I fucking came here in the first place,” he said, grabbing his helmet.

“Jason,” Tim said, reaching out to him.

He ignored the hand and made for his living room window instead.

“Jason can you just wait a minute,” Tim pleaded.

“No. That’s the difference between living and dying,” he said, before pushing out onto his fire escape and heading up to the roof.

Tim sighed and closed his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on and knew it was from the stress around this whole situation. Jason just needed time to calm down and they could talk about it later. He padded through his apartment to his bedroom. He pushed open the doors to his closet and pulled out the small, sleek, silver box that was tucked away on his second shelf behind old shirts and sweats.

He rubbed his thumbs over the surface before sitting cross-legged on his bed. He touched the screen on the top of the box and placed his hand over the lid. When his handprint was recognized he input the eight-digit passcode and waited for the click that signaled the lock had released. He lifted the lid and looked inside.

The box was far too big for what he kept inside and anyone who knew about the contents would think it ridiculous that he had such high security for a few photographs. It wasn’t out of the fear that someone would end up stealing them. It was out of fear that someone would find them. It was a possibility he wouldn’t even let himself consider because no one else could know about them.

Carefully, Tim withdrew the picture he’d taken so many years ago. The edges were soft and well-worn. He ran his fingers over the twin smiles he wore with Jason on that rooftop when he was still Robin. Tim sighed and held the photograph in his lap, letting himself look.

He felt exhausted. He’d been pulled in so many different directions over the course of a few hours and it wasn’t over yet. It wouldn’t be over. Maybe ever. But that was something he could worry about later.

~~

Being off patrol when he wasn’t injured was a strange experience for Tim. Bruce had tried to talk to him about why he was giving up the Robin mantle, but it didn’t go far beyond him not needing it anymore and searching for his own identity. He was currently sitting on his bed, encircled by crumpled up pieces of notebook paper.

Each new concept seemed to be worse than the last one. He needed something new that embodied who he was as a hero, but the only thing he’d done was take on a role by force. He sighed and fell back onto his mattress, paper crumpling underneath his back.

He heard his living room window slide open and swallowed as his heartrate picked up. He pushed himself into a sitting position, heart hammering in his chest. The paper crumpled around him as he moved to the edge of the bed, standing on silent feet. He walked over to the doorway to his bedroom and peeked around the corner, unable to see whoever it was in his apartment.

Tim walked silently down the hallway, keeping close to the wall, hope blooming in his chest as he got closer.

“Timmy!” a body said, whipping around the corner and wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, wincing at his harsh tone.

“Aw, come on little bro. Why can’t I ever call you Timmy?” Dick pleaded, setting him back on his feet.

Tim sighed. “Because I don’t like it,” he grumbled. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Bruce said you weren’t Robin anymore. What’s up?”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the wall. “Yeah…I don’t want to be Robin anymore, but I still want to protect Gotham. You caught me in the middle of trying to come up with a new persona.”

“How’s that going?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“It’s terrible. Nothing seems right. I know I’ve been Robin for years and my next identity should be a step up from Robin, but I’m not ready to go all Batman or Nightwing so…I don’t know.”

Dick nodded. “I know what you mean. So a step up from Robin, huh? How about…Red Robin?”

Tim made a face. “What, like the restaurant?”

Dick chuckled. “If that’s how you want to think of it. It’s not Robin, but you’re not going full vigilante yet.”

“I don’t know…it still kind of feels like Robin, though.”

Dick placed a hand on the shoulder and smiled at him. “That’s for you to decide. You can make of it whatever you want. People might think you’re still just Robin, but you get the chance to show them that’s not who you are. Push the boundaries a little bit. That’s what being a vigilante is all about, right?”

Tim smiled. “Thanks Dick. Say, you want to help me come up with concept ideas for a uniform? As long as it’s nothing atrocious like Discowing.”

Dick scoffed. “That costume was fantastic.”

He shook his head. “It really wasn’t.”

Dick pulled him close in a hug, making Tim smile as they walked back to his bedroom to grab his notebook paper.

~~

“You could’ve done a lot better at hiding your bugs,” Tim said when he heard the window slide open behind him. He was working on a sandwich at the kitchen table when Jason climbed through his living room window.

“So why didn’t you take them.”

Tim shrugged. “I thought it would be interesting. I was curious as to why you left them in the first place. “So,” he said, turning to face Jason, “what did you find out?”

Jason stuffed his hands into his pockets. “That you’re giving up Robin to become Red Robin.”

He nodded. “You already knew about the giving up Robin part though.”

Jason nodded and shifted.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Tim asked.

“Why don’t you like being called Timmy?” he whispered.

Tim’s eyes widened before he let them slide shut in a sigh. “I think you know why, Jason.”

“I really don’t,” he said quickly. “You got so mad at Dick for calling you that, but you used to let me call you that all the-“ he cut himself off and Tim knew he was staring at him, but he didn’t want to look. If he didn’t look, it couldn’t be real. He wouldn’t have to confront whatever was between them.

“Tim.”

He jumped, eyes snapping open to look at where Jason was standing right in front of him.

“Why don’t you like to be called Timmy?” he asked.

“You know why. You just reasoned your way there yourself,” he whispered.

“Timmy…”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, feeling like something inside of him was breaking in the most beautiful way. He blinked his eyes open and looked up at Jason who was still standing in front of him. Almost without thinking, his fingers came up to curl in Jason’s jacket. Jason pulled his hands free from his pockets and curled them around the edge of the kitchen island, boxing Tim in on the stool he was sitting on.

Tim leaned his head back and they stared at each other, faces inches apart. Jason’s eyes glanced down at his lips before finding his eyes again. Tim tightened his grip on Jason’s jacket.

“Jay-“

He gasped when Jason smashed their lips together. Jason took the opportunity to slide his tongue between his open lips and his gasp quickly turned into a moan. His fingers snuck into the strands of Jason’s hair and tangled there. Jason stepped closer, forcing Tim’s head back even further. His toes curled against the rung on his stool.

He panted when Jason pulled back, heated gaze boring into him. A beat passed before their lips were crashing together again. Jason’s hands scrambled over him, pulling him to his feet. Tim stumbled, but was steadied by Jason’s hands engulfing his hips. He shuddered at the feel. He imagined having those hands everywhere on his body.

Jason’s fingers slid underneath the bottom of his thin shirt, pressing into his skin and leaving a trail of heat. Tim tugged at him, pulling him towards the hall that led to his bedroom. Jason’s hands rucked his shirt up even further and they finally pulled away so he could rip it over his head. Jason stilled when it came free and he caught sight of his skin.

Tim looked at him before his eyes went to his own chest before looking back up at Jason, brow furrowing. His nostrils flared and Tim could see the walls going up before he shoved away and stalked towards the window.

“Jason, wait!” he cried. It did nothing as he flew from the window and scaled up to the rooftop. Tim ran over to his open window and stuck his head out, craning his neck to look up, but saw nothing. He sighed and pulled back inside, shutting the window and rearming it.

He walked back to his room, picking up his discarded shirt on the way and slipping it over his head. He headed straight for his closet, pulling the silver box free that he seemed to be opening more and more lately. He settled onto his bed, leaning against the headboard and opened the lock system.

Tim pulled the photograph free and cradled it in his hands, wondering if things could ever go back to being as simple as they used to be. Or if they were ever that simple in the first place.

~~

Tim fiddled with his new uniform. It was strange to be wearing something different, but he was glad for it. It was his first night out as Red Robin and he was ready to make a name for himself. He shot off a grapple line and took a deep breath before taking the leap. He ignored his usual patrol route and headed towards the worse part of town where he expected Jason to be. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he saw him yet, but there had to be something he could say.

The cold Gotham air whipped at his face and he breathed deeply, letting it out in a large huff. The nicer streets of Gotham fell away as the buildings slowly got worse. He came to a stop on one of the taller apartment buildings and turned in a circle, looking at the surrounding buildings and alleys for any sign of movement.

He heard a muffled curse and hurried to the edge of the building, looking into the alley below. He saw Jason holding a man up against the side of the brick building. Tim jumped, letting gravity-and a few carefully placed flips and jumps-take him to the ground. He landed in a crouch behind Jason who stilled.

“Red Hood,” he greeted.

“What are you doing here?” he growled.

“Paying you nothing more than a harmless visit,” he said casually, crossing his arms to lean against the opposite wall. “Don’t feel like you have to stop on my account.”

The guy who was pressed against the wall tried to look over Jason’s shoulder to see who he was, but Jason slammed against him to keep him still.

“I better not see your fucking face again or you’re dead,” Jason growled, shoving him towards the mouth of the alley. He took no time running off and Tim fought to keep the smile off his face. He wasn’t sure what Jason would’ve done to the guy, but he counted it as a win regardless.

Jason stalked over to him, hands fisted at his sides. “What do you want?” he spat.

“To talk,” Tim said easily. He stepped away and shot his grapple to the roof. “Follow me.”

Jason was right behind him and he tried not to smile since he really didn’t know how this conversation was going to go yet.

“Why did you run?”

Jason opened his mouth before closing it. He pulled off his helmet and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Because.”

Tim raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Because I don’t like what you’ve had to go through. I don’t like that you were brought into Robin and the vigilante world after I died. I wanted you to be safe and stay far away from all of that. I didn’t like seeing the physical scars and reminders of everything because I wasn’t here to keep you safe.”

“Well,” Tim said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was never very good at listening to you. You couldn’t even stop me from sneaking out into Gotham to take pictures. Being a vigilante was the next step up.”

Jason sighed. “That’s not funny.”

Tim smiled, but it soon fell away. “You weren’t here. And it was awful.”

Jason sucked in a breath through his teeth. It sounded like a hiss of pain. Perhaps it was, a blow straight to his heart.

“I didn’t know what happened to you at first. I thought something had gone terribly wrong with the mission you were on and you’d gotten kidnapped or something. I never suspected you were dead. But then Batman was back and you weren’t. I felt so alone.”

“Tim…” Jason breathed.

He shook his head. “I visited your grave, you know. Left candy bars and other snacks because I never stopped carrying them with me after I got into the habit.”

“That’s why those were on my grave…” he said softly.

Tim furrowed his brow and looked up at Jason. “What?”

“I found the chocolate bars when I dug out of my grave. Ate a couple of them, too. I should’ve realized.”

Tim shook his head. “It’s not like you could’ve known. That wasn’t even the worst of it. I saw how it was affecting Bruce. He was about to go off the edge and I couldn’t let that happen. He never would’ve forgiven himself if he’d done that. So I became Robin. And I hoped that wherever you were, you could forgive me for it because of what I was taking without permission.”

“You didn’t want it?”

He shook his head again. “Not like that. It was a role that was meant to be passed on, not taken.”

“You could stop…” Jason said, his earlier hope returning.

Tim smiled sadly and shook his head again. “I can’t. I told you I’m in too deep and I mean it. Just because I didn’t want to take Robin for myself doesn’t mean I don’t want to be a vigilante. I’m satisfied finding my own identity now.”

“I want to be angry,” Jason whispered. “And I am. But I want to be angry and you and I want to hate you for everything. I want to blame you for so much, but I can’t. I hate that you’ve been put at risk and I hate that Bruce hasn’t done anything differently. And I…I missed you so much. Even when I was about to die, I missed you and regretted that I left you alone.”

Jason lifted a hand, wanting to cup Tim’s cheek, but not letting himself do it. Tim caught the hand in his and gave it a squeeze. A scream pierced the quiet that had surrounded them.

“Come to my place after patrol. I think we have more to talk about,” Tim said. He gave Jason’s hand one last squeeze before letting it go. He turned to leave, but Jason caught his arm. He turned in question. Jason cupped his cheek and brought their lips together in a fleeting kiss before he disappeared into the night.

~~

Tim sat on his couch with his legs crossed. He fiddled with his hands in his laps and waited. He’d gotten back from patrol an hour ago and had already gotten a shower and changed. He practically sighed when he heard the window get pushed open. He looked up and found Jason standing there, rubbing the back of his neck.

Tim fought down a smile. “You changed?” he asked.

Jason shrugged, pink dusting his cheeks. “I figured you wouldn’t appreciate me sitting around in bloodstained clothes.”

“Do you want to sit?” Tim asked, gesturing to the couch next to him.

Jason nodded. He moved and sat stiffly next to him. Tim glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Timmy…”

Tim closed his eyes, his breath leaving him in a rush. Jason’s hand caught his arm and pulled. Tim moved easily and let himself be settled on Jason’s lap, knees resting on the couch cushions on the outside of Jason’s thighs so he was straddling his legs. Jason’s hands rested at his hips and squeezed, rucking up his shirt in way that was more familiar than it should’ve been.

“Miss me?” Tim asked, smirking.

Jason rolled his eyes before tilting his head up, eyes flitting down to Tim’s mouth. Tim obliged the unspoken request and dipped his head, meeting Jason’s mouth in a kiss.

“Yes, I did,” Jason breathed when they parted. “I want you.”

Tim wrapped his arms around Jason’s shoulders. “What are you going to do about it?”

The window shattered, glass blowing inward and tinkling as it hit the floor. Tim gasped and Jason fought to cover his head from the onslaught.

“Tim!”

He fought to free himself and turned in Jason’s hold to see what was going on. Nightwing stood inside the window with his escrima sticks drawn.

“Get away from him!” he shouted, pointing one of the sticks at Jason.

“Dick!” Tim protested.

He stepped to the side and Batman swung in after him. Tim groaned and Jason’s grip on him tightened. Tim glanced at Jason and knew both Dick and Bruce would be dead right now if looks could kill.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Bruce growled.

“Maybe you should keep a better eye on your precious little soldiers,” Jason spat.

Tim elbowed him, earning a grunt. “He’s here because I invited him,” Tim said.

Both of them stilled.

“You invited him,” Bruce said slowly.

“Obviously,” Tim said, rolling his eyes.

“What’s going on, Tim?” Bruce asked, stepping forward. “First you give up Robin and now you’re spending time with Jason?”

“Nothing else is going on. I’m done being Robin and I’m willingly spending time with Jason.”

“Is he putting you up to this?” Dick asked.

“No. He’s not,” Tim said.

“Tim,” Jason said.

“I like Jason,” Tim explained. “And I’d really like to go out on a date with him if you’d be so kind as to leave us alone.”

There was a beat of silence before Dick and Bruce exploded.

“You want to do what?!” Bruce asked.

“You’ve been brain washed!” Dick screeched.

“Tim,” Jason said, trying to catch his attention.

“I haven’t been brain washed,” Tim argued back. “You don’t get to control my life.”

“Tim,” Jason tried again.

“Be reasonable,” Bruce growled.

“Timmy,” Jason said, squeezing his hip.

Everyone stilled. Tim turned to look at Jason. Dick and Bruce were waiting for Tim’s reaction.

“What?” he asked.

“Relax.”

Tim huffed. “Fine,” he ground out.

“How come he can call you Timmy?” Dick asked, face crumpling.

“Because he can,” Tim said. “Now can you leave?”

Dick and Bruce looked at each other. Dick made the first move towards the window and climbed out onto the fire escape. Bruce stayed a moment longer. Tim shooed him away before he reluctantly turned and climbed out, grappling up to the roof.

“Now I have to get that window fixed,” Tim said, sagging against Jason.

Jason kissed the side of his neck. “It’ll be okay,” he murmured. “Hey Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“You really want to go on a date with me?”

Tim smiled. “Yeah. I really do.”

~~

For the first time in a long time, Tim pulled out his silver box because he was happy, not because he was sad or lonely. He ran his fingers over the edges and bit his lip as he looked over him and Jason when they were so much younger.

It felt like nothing could dampen his mood when he was finally getting to spend some time with Jason. Bruce and Dick’s reactions couldn’t even get in the way of his good mood.

“Tim?” Jason asked, sticking his head around the corner. “What’cha got there?” he asked, nodding towards the photo.

“Come see,” Tim said.

Jason sat on the edge of the bed next to him and peered over his shoulder. He stilled.

“It’s the photo,” he breathed.

Tim nodded.

“Can I?” Jason asked, reaching out for it.

Tim passed it off, not feeling the least bit possessive over it despite the years he’d kept it locked away. This was Jason. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt it.

“I forgot about this photo,” he whispered, smile pulling at his lips.

“I haven’t,” Tim said.

Jason bumped their shoulders, drawing a breathy chuckle from Tim’s lips. Tim wrapped his arms around Jason’s arm and leaned his head against his shoulder while Jason continued to inspect the photo.

“How many times have you looked at this?” he asked.

Tim sighed. “Too many times to remember.”

Jason turned his head to look down at Tim who glanced up at him. Jason turned and set the photo to the side, cupping Tim’s face in his hands. Even the thought of Jason kissing him had Tim’s stomach doing a happy dance. Tim wrapped his hands around Jason’s shoulders and held him close as their lips brushed together again and again. The happy feeling in his stomach increased and he sighed into their kiss.

“Wait,” Jason said, pulling away. There was mischief in his eyes that drew a laugh from Tim.

“What?” he asked.

“Where’s your camera?” Jason asked, pushing up from the bed.

“What?” Tim asked, brow furrowing.

“Your camera. Where is it?”

He was grinning in a way that had Tim going to his closet. He pulled out his case from the back of his closet and unzipped it, pulling his camera free and unscrewing the lens cap.

Jason reached out to him and pulled him back to the bed, sitting him next to him so their sides were touching. Both of Jason’s arms were wrapped around him.

“Okay,” Jason breathed. “Take the picture.”

Tim’s brain stuttered and he looked over at Jason.

“What?”

“Go on,” he said, nudging him. “Take our picture. I want another one. Then and now.”

“Um…okay,” Tim said, fiddling with his camera to get the settings just right. He held it in front of them and tried to smile in a way that didn’t feel forced, but knew he was failing miserably. Jason turned his head and placed a kiss on Tim’s cheek, making his lips pull up in a way they didn’t often on their own.

He snapped the picture and took another when Jason pulled away and Tim turned his head, meeting Jason’s gaze. They stared into each other’s eyes before Jason leaned in, capturing his lips in another kiss and the shutter clicked again. Tim sighed when he pulled away.

“I should get these developed,” he said, lowering the camera.

“Later,” Jason said, taking the camera from him and setting it on the bedside table with the photograph. He pulled Tim down onto the bed and held him close, brushing their lips together again.

And Tim didn’t mind putting off developing the pictures. They didn’t seem as important when he had Jason alive and in front of him and Jason had him all to himself.