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Published:
2020-05-08
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2020-09-07
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3/3
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Finding Breath

Summary:

“What you kill in there?”
Tim sighed, standing from where he’d been crouched retrieving a cloth out of a cupboard, “It’s mine.”
“Huh,” Jason shot him a calculating look that made Tim look away, it reminded him too much of Bruce, “lot of blood to come from one kid Timbo.”
“I’m 18!” Tim snapped back on reflex, “and yeah- stab wound will do that to you…”

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

Tim couldn’t breathe. The world around him felt like it was warping, his head was pounding. He could see the blur of green that was Riddler somewhere off to the left of his vision, another vague outline standing near him. Getting bigger.

Riddler was meant to be alone. He’d escaped from Arkham alone. It was only Eddie, Tim had always been able to handle him the past before which was why he hadn’t called in for backup when he’d located Nygma in an old disused car park on the edge of town. 

He blinked hard, a wasted effort to try and clear his vision as the room was rapidly filling with smoke, tinged Riddler green. He tried to hold his breath, his rebreather, where was his rebreather? 

Right. It had broken two nights ago and he’d forgotten to replace it. Typical. Bruce was going to be so disappointed in him for being so badly prepared. Bruce was always so disappointed in him. He was going to do that thing where he looked at Tim for a long moment before sighing deeply and turning away. Like he just didn’t have time for Tim’s incompetency

Not that Tim blamed him. Bruce had Damian to train and Steph was improving everyday now. Not to mention everything that was always happening with Jason, if he was going to spend time with anyone socially it was going to be Dick and Cass, or Duke now. It was Tim’s job to just get on with things. Don’t be a bother, don’t get in the way. And most importantly, do not be disappointing so that Bruce has to take time to rectify his mistakes.

All that being true as it was, Tim really hated fear gas, yeah he recognised that putrid scent, really hated it. It would almost be worth living through Bruce’s disappointment if it meant he didn’t have to go through one of Crane’s concoctions. 

At a loss for anything else to do, Tim breathed in. He wished he wasn’t alone.






It’s been a week since Tim got himself cornered by Nygma and Crane and the pair of them were already back in Arkham. Bruce had wanted him to stay at the manor and recover, Tim couldn’t remember doing it but apparently he’d swung his arm into the ground while panicking from the gas and banged his elbow up pretty bad, but after a few days Tim had slipped out at the earliest opportunity and headed for the penthouse flat in the city he’d started to think of as his own.

It was… nice. If you thought of nice as being an expensive apartment in the middle of the city where the floor was covered by various things from water bottles to items of clothing. Tim liked it because it was his, there weren’t a lot of things in his life he could think of that way. Even his name gave him a direct association to his parents, which is the last thing he really wanted.

His elbow was sore and Tim cursed himself for leaving the cave without bringing some of the stronger pain killers with him, no matter, he’d get by with the over the counter stuff he had here, like normal. 

Right now Tim was standing in the doorway into his bathroom trying to muster up the energy to clean up the blood covering his bathtub. Turning on his heel he almost walked directly into Jason’s chest.

“Jesus, shit replacement, someone’s out of practice.” 

Tim didn’t reply, just half shrugged and moved around Jason towards the kitchen, in search of cleaning stuff, maybe some bleach. Jason, seeming unphased as usual, followed him and hopped up on the kitchen counter, 

“What you kill in there?”

Tim sighed, standing from where he’d been crouched retrieving a cloth out of a cupboard, “It’s mine.”

“Huh,” Jason shot him a calculating look that made Tim look away, it reminded him too much of Bruce, “lot of blood to come from one kid Timbo.”

“I’m 18!” Tim snapped back on reflex, “and yeah- stab wound will do that to you…”

He didn’t wait for a reaction, just moved back through to the bathroom and started to scrub at some of the blood, feeling only a little satisfaction when it started to come off, blood splattered tiles weren’t really his thing. 

Predictably, Jason appeared in the doorway not soon after, “I’m sorry- ‘stab wound?’”

“Yes Jason, stab wound,” Tim didn’t look away from what he was doing which was why he jumped near a mile when Jason was suddenly pulling his shirt up his back, he cracked his elbow against the wall and groaned in pain, immediately dropping to the bottom of the tub like jelly, “Fucking hell Jason?! What the hell was that for? You could have just asked?!”

Sensibly Jason had backed away to the opposite side of the room, although he now had a worried frown stretched across his face, “Where is it then?”

Tim sighed, cradling his now throbbing elbow up as close to his chest as possible.

“Come on then replacement? Where is it?”

“On my shoulder, okay?” being careful not to jostle his elbow any more than necessary, Tim carefully hitched up his shirt until Jason could see the white strapping covering the top left portion of his chest.

Jason just stared for a moment before muttering, “Fucking unbelievable,” and striding out the room. 

Tim only hesitated for a moment before scrabbling to his feet and following Jason out, “Where’re you going?”

Jason was halfway to the window by then but he paused when Tim spoke, although he didn’t stop looking like he was about to throw himself out the window anyway, “I can’t believe you went on patrol like that. You’re meant to be the smart one.”

Tim frowned, “It’s nothing, it doesn’t even-”

“You were stabbed Tim! And you went after Riddler and Scarecrow ALONE. Why would you do that?”

“I thought it was only Nygma at the time.”

Jason rolled his eyes so hard in response to that, that Tim thought they were in danger of falling out his head, “Oh great, so just went after the one high threat rogue while having a literal hole in our chest, perfect, no worries.”

“Oh come on it wasn’t even that bad.” 

Jason stormed over to the window so fast that Tim thought for sure he was just going to leave but instead he lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out into the evening air, it was strangely considerate of him. Tim’s head was starting to hurt.

“Do you even hear yourself now, Christ, that’s it. I’m calling Dickface. He’s known you longest, he can clear this mess up.”

Tim started forward but pulled short the moment Jason pulled his phone out his jacket pocket, “There’s no mess Jason, you don’t need to bother Dick.”

Jason took another puff of his cigarette, “too late.” 

He dialled and shoved the phone up against his ear. He motioned with his other hand for Tim to sit down in his armchair. At a loss for anything else to do, Tim sat.

“Hey Dick.”

“Yes, it is me.”

“What do you mean I never call? What does that matter?”

“I am fine.”

“I’m at Tim’s place.”

“The Penthouse.”

“No, no Dick he’s not fine.”

“Chill out, he’s not dead or dying.”

“Just get your ass over here so he can tell you himself.”

At that Jason hung up the call and stubbed his cigarette out on the wall outside the window, “He’ll be here in 15.”

They waited in silence.

 




“I just didn’t think it was important.”

“Important? Tim you got stabbed?”

“And I could still function. I wasn’t going to stay home just because my shoulder was feeling stiff.”

From his corner by the window Jason huffed as if to say ‘you see what I’m dealing with’. Dick barely even acknowledged it from where he was sitting on the couch next to Tim’s armchair. He must have come over here quickly because he only had a hoodie thrown on over his Nightwing outfit, Tim felt bad for that one, Dick must be exhausted already, he didn’t need this.

“Tim, please, you need to look after yourself or something even worse might happen.”

Tim nodded. Right now he was seriously wishing he’d chosen somewhere else to hide out rather than the first place anyone was going to look after the Manor.

“If things get out of hand you need to make sure you talk to someone, doesn’t have to be one of us but someone, fear toxin isn’t a laughing matter on your best day. I know that you and Conner Kent are close, and there’s Cassie. I know through Donna that she’s a good kid.”

Tim sighed, “I’m fine Dick, really, I get on with things. Always have, always will.”

Dick lent back in his chair and Tim caught the almost imperceptible glance he shot Jason’s way. He couldn’t help but be filled with the sharp feeling that he’d failed in some way.

 

 




Tim’s favourite part of this whole Bat-business, aside from the rush that came from finally putting the last thing into position to solve a case, was where he was right now. Standing on the roof of WE, looking out across the lights of the city, cape blowing out behind him in the wind, feeling for all the world like he was surrounded by everything and yet completely alone at the same time. 

He wished he had his camera with him right now. The lighting was perfect and in the distance he could see the bright yellow of The Signal’s suit (rare for this time in the night), along with the muted blues and purples of Spoiler and Bluebird as they sprinted along the roofs of The Bowery, bound for the clocktower no doubt. 

If he hit the right button on his earpiece right now then he’d be able to tune into their channel and let them know he was about, meet them there, see Babs, and join them on whatever they were planning for the night. Maybe crash at Steph and Cass’ apartment in the early hours of the morning or go with Harper back to her and Cullen’s place. It would be fun no doubt, it always was with them, as long as Bruce didn’t show up and chew them out for being reckless but even then Steph would likely have something up her sleeve to make Tim laugh again in the aftermath. That was something that she’d never failed in.

But he didn’t, instead he watched until they disappeared into the shadows and then sat down on the edge of the building, letting his legs dangle in a childlike way that he would never dare to do in front of anyone other than Kon, Cassie and Bart.

Tim was lost in trying to see if he could see any of the lights of Wayne Manor on the horizon when he heard the soft thump that indicated he was no longer alone on the roof. He didn’t move. There was only one person out tonight who was small enough to make that level of noise.

“I hope you’re not planning on jumping Drake, Father would be most displeased and I would rather not be the one to tell him.”

Tim smirked as the brat came to stand beside him, dropping his head back just in time to see Damian jerk his hand up to catch that ridiculous hood he’d added to the Robin costume before it was blown off his head. Seriously, the kid really hadn’t considered how windy Gotham got when he’d put it on and was certainly far too stubborn to admit the mistake now.

“He wouldn’t care, but no, demon, I’m not gonna jump,” Tim looked down at the deserted road below them, “not without firing my line anyway. So don’t you worry.”

“Tt, I was not worried.”

Tim huffed, he couldn’t help it, “sure you weren’t half pint.”

Damian gave Tim a half hearted jab in the side with his foot, “I am almost taller than you now Drake, I hardly think that nickname still applies for anyone other than maybe Todd.”

And wasn’t that the truth. Tim was sure that the kid was going to surpass even Bruce in height, “Yeah yeah yeah, I’ll stop calling you that when you decide to swallow your pride and actually call us by our first names.”

Instead of answering Damian just dropped down to sit next to him and joined Tim in looking along the horizon, the city was still as quiet as it ever got.

“Robin not patrolling with Batman tonight?”

Damian smoothly pushed the hood back so he could run a hand through his hair roughly, a habit that reminded Tim of Talia the few times he’d met her, “Me and Father had a… disagreement.”

Tim cocked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“He can be stifling sometimes and I do not understand why he acts like that even after he trusted me to run alone with the Titans in San Francisco.”

Oh, that kind of disagreement. “That’s B for you, look at everything that happened when Dick was young.”

The two of them sat quietly for a while after that. Tim liked these moments, when he felt like the two of them actually had a shot at calling each other brothers. It would be nice not to have to act like they hated each other every time someone else was in ear shot. Eventually Damian spoke up,

“Why did you say that?”

“Say what?”

“That Father would not care if you jumped.”

Tim sighed, sometimes he just felt so goddamn tired, “just forget I said anything Dami, I must have misspoke.”

He knew Damain was frowning under his domino but luckily before he got the chance to say anything else screaming started to echo up from close by. Saved by the criminals. That’s something that didn’t happen everyday.

Tim grinned at Damian, knowing that it must have looked more than a little hollow, “Duty calls. Fancy fighting alongside Red Robin for a bit, think your stone-cold reputation can take it?”

Damian climbed to his feet and tugged out his grappling rope, “Only if you can keep up.”

Tim was leaping to the next building before he’d heard the end of the sentence.



Chapter 2

Notes:

back by sudden motivation from me: Tim Drake being sad

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Spoiler? Status report.”

Tim’s heart was racing in his chest as he kicked the last goon in the head, knocking him out cold on the ground ready for the GCPD to come pick up, he waited anxiously for a reply to Babs’ statement. At the end of the fight everyone had checked in, everyone but Steph.

“Anyone got eyes on Spoiler?”

The channel stayed dead. Everyone listening. Tim saw Dick across the room pause where he was zip tying a guys wrists, the hunch of his shoulders and tilt of his head telling Tim exactly what he was doing. 

After a moment, Bruce’s gruff growl came through, “Where is she?”

“Down at the water,” Babs’ voice was analytical as always, staying on task until she knew the facts, “her tracker was still operational until everyone was already engaged then everything just went dead. I’m trying to find a camera for the area but nothing’s coming up even though I’m sure-”

“I’m heading that way. Dick, call the GCPD and wait for them to show, then join everyone else back at the cave for debrief.”

A collective groan of annoyance was shared through the comms, laced with worry, Steph never went radio silent. Not on a team mission. Suddenly, Tim’s head was filled with the memory of holding Superboy limp against his chest, of losing everything, of kneeling in front of Bruce’s grave, of Roman Sionis laughing and then spitting at his feet. He made a split second decision, not caring if he would regret it later. He needed to know.

“I’m closer.”

“Red Robin get back to the-”

He tore out his comm. Quickly exiting the building, he arrived directly onto the loading bay at the water’s edge. There was no sign of anybody.

“Spoiler?”

After the longest moment of Tim’s life, a body was shoved up out of the water and onto the stone followed by a smaller figure who immediately started hopping around from one foot to the other. Steph was fiddling with the clasp of her cape and trying to kick her boots off at the same time. Tim would be cackling if he wasn’t so goddamn scared.

Eventually Steph pulled free of the sopping wet cape and hood and then yanked off both her boots, emptying them onto the concrete. A fish came toppling out of one. She dumped it all into a pile and looked up at Tim in disdain.

He just looked back, speechless. Steph’s hair was a mess, wet, dirty and plastered to her scalp in a grotesque fashion.

“He had some sort of short range EMP okay.”

Tim stayed silent for a minute and then couldn’t help it as his face spread into a smile. Instantly Steph started to grin to. Then it was as if the dam had broken and Tim was sprinting across the ground to wrap Steph up in a hug, slimy suit and all. So maybe he was crying a little, it didn’t really matter.

“And then the guy had the audacity to fall into the harbour whilst unconscious with god knows how much weight in weaponry he had attached to him, so I, selfless hero that I am, just had to dive in after him.”

Tim buried his face into Steph’s shoulder, “You really stink.”

“My hair Tim- MY HAIR? I’m never going to be able to wash this shit out. It LINGERS I’m telling you.”

“Yeah you aren’t borrowing any of my stuff for at least a week.”

Steph laughed, “Harsh.”

“Maybe.”




 

 

“It’s because he cares about you.”

Tim paused for a moment, “It’s because he doesn’t trust me.”

He could practically hear Kon’s eyeroll through the phone, they could be very expressive and they’d already had this conversation several times already.

“It’s not.”

“I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. Steph’s my, well she’s Steph and I deserve to know what happened rather than being sent back to the cave like a child.”

“Yeah I know, just try not to get too mad at him, he’s your dad.”

“I’m not mad. I just wish that he wouldn’t, because these days it feels like the only time he remembers that I’m there at all is to scold me.”

“Yeah I feel that.”

“Clark?”

“Yeah.”

Tim tried to think of the last time him and Bruce had spent one on one time together, when they hadn’t been arguing, outside of the suits, he couldn’t remember, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Want to go get some food?”

“Yeah, Bruce gonna like that?”

“Probably not.”

 I’ll call Bart?”

“Best do it now so he won’t be too late, I’ll call Cassie.”

Tim smiled down at his phone.






Okay today was about to get a whole lot better.

“Hey Kate! What’re you doing here?”

“Tim, I was looking for Bruce?”

Ever conscious of ears all around them, no matter how much everyone pretended not to be listening they were standing in the foyer of WE, people would listen, “And why would he be here?”

Kate grinned, enjoying the joke, “Good point.”

“Anything that I can help you with in the meantime?” Double edge to that question, even if it wasn’t likely he would be able to, it was still worth the offer. He liked working with Kate, she was concise and brutal but without all of the frustrating protectiveness that came with Bruce. 

Kate smiled, pushing her hair out of her face with one hand, “Not really but it’s not anything that important, want to grab some lunch?”

“Why not- I was heading out anyway.”

“Great, how about that diner a few blocks away.”

Perfect, Tim really wasn’t feeling some expensive place right now. 

Less than a few minutes later, Tim was staring down the barrel of a gun. Typical. Only in Gotham would you get mugged in the middle of the daytime just for taking a shortcut down a couple of alleyways. Kate was tense next to him but they both knew the rules not to risk revealing themselves unless they had to.

“Right, empty your pockets- the pair of you.”

Kate made a show of digging around in her coat, “I don’t know why you’d think we would have anything worth taking.”

“Shut it. We know who you both are.”

“Then you’ll know that Wayne’s aren’t the type to let something like this go.”

Tim couldn’t look away from the gun barrel that was pointed directly between his eyes, it was something that he’d done a million times but something about this particular time was making him feel a little numb.

“Just empty your pockets unless you want me to shoot the kid.”

Kate rolled her eyes, “Fine, but I really don’t carry much.”

Tim fumbled his own wallet out of his jacket and chucked it on the floor at one of the other guys feet and watched as he picked it up and thumbed through the inside. He was gonna have to cancel all those cards which was annoying.

As soon as they were done the guy holding the gun seemed to decide something and shifted his aim, barely hesitating before pulling the trigger. The gunshot was loud and left Tim’s ears ringing and he froze for a moment, waiting for the telltale pain to come crashing in on him. Then… it didn’t. 

He turned and Kate was on the ground, clutching her leg, her face scrunched up in pain. 

His mouth felt like glue. What was wrong with him? He’d been in this situation a million times before. Why wasn’t his brain working properly? He knew his eyes were wide when he looked up at the guy, he had a grim expression on his face as he looked back at Tim.

“We need time to get out of the city, can’t have you two giving descriptions to the cops straight off the bat. Just stand still and make this easier for yourself and I might put it somewhere you’ll wake up from.”

Somewhere in Tim’s head a voice was telling him that now would be an ideal time to disarm the men and take them down because the guy’s hand was shaking slightly, that bullet could go anywhere. But he felt frozen. Couldn’t think past the barrel of that gun. 

He knew Kate’s eyes were on him, willing him to do something but he just couldn’t. Maybe if he just let the bullet hit- no don’t finish that thought. Do something, do something, do something, just fucking move-

He heard the gunshot. Tim had always wondered if it was true that you didn’t hear the shot that got you. Not if it killed you anyhow. Guess he wasn’t dead. The world was dark though, when had his eyes closed?

Hesitantly he cracked them open only to instantly wish he hadn’t because standing over the muggers with the gun at his feet was Batman. Staring at him. In the years he’d known him Tim had gotten better at reading Bruce’s expressions beneath the cowl but right now he was getting nothing. And that terrified him.

Bruce didn’t say a word but after knocking all of the men out and tying them together he stepped up and wrapped Tim up in the tightest hug. Distantly he noticed that Damian was there too and helping Kate with her leg, talking about getting her back to the cave.

He wasn’t sure whether it was Bruce or him shaking but he leant into the bat on his chest and just sucked in the physical contact. Took a few deep breaths.

“B- I’m fine.”

Bruce was staring at him through the white lenses of the cowl, “Car. Now.”




 

The ride back was silent and Tim spent it coming up with logical arguments in his head. He was just tired. That was what he would go with. He hadn’t slept much last night (which was true) but he was fine. It wasn’t what it looked like. He could handle it. He was fine. 

By the time they pulled up and he spotted Dick making use of the rings and Alfred waiting at the medbay for Kate, he had pretty much convinced himself that that was exactly what happened.

What threw him though was how Bruce stopped him getting out of the car, slid the cowl of his head, looked him directly in the eye and apologised.

Tim frowned, “for what?”

For a second he thought Bruce was going to shout at him but he just took a deep breath instead, ‘Whatever that was, I’m sorry that I didn’t see it before now.”

“That was just me being tired B, I didn’t get enough sleep last night and my brain wasn’t equipped to deal with the situation that’s on me.”

“You were almost shot Tim.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that-”

Tim turned in the car so he was fully facing Bruce, “I’m fine B, I’m alive, Kate’s alive, he wasn’t trying to kill us. I’ve been shot before.”

“That’s not the point!”

“B, I-”

“You were about to let yourself get shot Tim, when you could’ve stopped it. And I don’t understand- I don’t understand why you didn’t?”

“Our identities-?”

“You know the rules more than anyone Tim so don’t you try that one with me, you know that it’s okay to defend yourself in that situation. So why didn’t you?”

Tim shoved his hands between his knees so that Bruce couldn’t see how much he was shaking, his brain running a mile a minute trying to come up with an explanation that meant he wouldn’t have to acknowledge that thought in the back of his mind. But he couldn’t think of anything. His mind was blank of something that would get Bruce off his back.

Suddenly feeling confined, Tim shoved open the door of the batmobile and half tumbled out. He strode across the cave until he reached the connecting door (disguised as a fake wall on the other side) that led to the main garage. Grabbing a spare helmet and jumping on a motorbike, he was gone.






Tim didn’t want to die. He really, truly, honestly didn’t. That he was sure of. True, sometimes the idea of having to wake up and live every single day of his life for god knows how long was exhausting on a good day and downright terrifying on a bad one but generally he’d never thought of himself as suicidal. He’d seen what suicidal looked like, and Tim, he couldn’t be it. 

Sometimes in the dark of the night when the city had fallen to its quietest, Tim didn’t feel quite as sure that he would do much to actively stop it if something came for him. Sometimes his stitches could be a little sloppy cause his heart wasn’t really in it. Sometimes a stray thought would push its way in when he was standing on the top of a particularly high building. Generally though, Tim had never done anything that scared him enough that he actually thought he wasn’t going to be able to handle it himself, because no, Tim didn’t want to die. So why was the first place he had thought of to come to the home of someone that had once tried to kill him? It was funny how things worked out.

Jason was wearing a Wonder Woman hoodie and boxers when he opened the door, his hair ruffled from sleep. He squinted at Tim, no doubt beyond disheveled having just biked across the city in a work suit (and getting a few incredibly judgemental stares along the way), “Replacement?”

Tim shifted in place, “Can I come in?”

Jason’s frown only deepened.

“Please Jason, I don’t know where else I could get to right now.”

Jason didn’t look any less confused but he did step out of the way. He also stayed quiet and contemplative until Tim was finished talking. Somehow it still shocked Tim how reserved Jason could be when he wanted to. It was like all his emotion was saved up until it would burst out in the loudest way possible, leaving as much anger and sadness in its wake.

“You know you’re gonna have to talk to him right?” Jason was looking him right in the eyes, “not because you won’t be able to work with him properly unless you do but because it’s Bruce and he’s not going to let it drop until you do.”

Tim’s stomach was feeling continuously like he’d just fallen down a step that he’d forgotten was there, “Yeah I know.”

“Talking helps Timmy, I swear, I know that B isn’t exactly the best person for it, but in general it does make a difference.”

Tim huffed a little, shooting a half smile at Jason that he didn’t return, “Like you’d know?”

“I do actually,” Jason’s tone was deadly serious, “I don’t do it much but Roy, Kori, Artemis, even Biz sometimes, they help and it makes a difference when it’s to someone who is willing to hear you out.”

“Yeah maybe.”

“I wouldn’t push you into it, I’m just making sure that I’ve said my piece.”

“Sure Jay.”

“Just remember that Bruce is the most emotionally stunted guy in this family and the fact that he deals with his issues by dressing up in a giant bat costume means that he doesn’t have a hill to stand on when it comes to opening up about his feelings. Don’t let him try to tell you any different, fuck knows I don’t.”

Jason stood up and headed back towards his bedroom, “In the meantime I’m going back to sleep more, you’re welcome to stay just keep your hands off my coffee. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the rate that you drink that stuff.”

 




34 texts, 19 missed calls, 15 voicemails and 7 emails. That was how much Tim had received from Bruce, Dick, Steph and Cass combined since he’d left the cave and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to reply to any of them yet.

He kept picking his phone up and almost doing something only to slide it back into his pocket without getting that far. If he left it too long he knew Babs would point them in his direction which he wanted even less but he just couldn’t seem to find the words to answer any of the many, many questions.

In the end he just made the decision to stop hiding from it and face whatever was about to happen head on. Maybe if he saw him face to face them he’d somehow be able to convince Bruce that he was going to be alright to deal with this on his own.

Yeah right, to do that he’d actually need to figure out what this was first. That helpful voice in his head informed him.

Leaving before Jason came back out his room and got into another conversation with him, Tim grabbed the bike he’d bought and headed back to the Manor.

Bruce was the only one in the cave when he pulled up. He was sitting in front of the computer, looking at a file, as Tim approached he was startled to see that it was the report he had written of his time working to take down Ra’s and the league while Bruce had been ‘dead’.

He had always assumed that Bruce just didn’t know what had gone on during that time. Tim had certainly never told him and deep down hadn’t really wanted him to know. It was off putting to see the whole thing in front of him again now. Suddenly, it struck Tim just how much he did not want to have this conversation. Too late though. Bruce had turned around and was looking right at him.

“I’m okay B- I swear it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Tim,” Bruce’s voice sounded so overwhelmingly sad that Tim almost broke down right there and then, “you can’t think that I’m going to be able to believe that after-”

“I’m okay Bruce. No harm done.”

“Look me in the eyes and say it like you mean it.” Bruce stood up and came to stand in front of Tim, unintentionally putting himself in a position to tower over him. Something in Tim snapped at that, he needed Bruce to back off right now.

“Come on Bruce, you know more than anyone, even if you don’t realise it, how much you need me to be okay.”

A flash of shock and hurt crossed Bruce’s eyes, only there for a moment but unmissable all the same. Tim took a big step back followed by another sharper one when Bruce made to follow.

“Why do you think I get out of bed every morning? Why I’ve played co-CEO at WE for you since I was 17. Why I come to almost every gala and party, only missing one when there are enough people to cover it. I smile and give speeches and run interference while you act completely off your face? Because I know that you need that from me because if you had to deal with my shit along with everyone else’s then it might just be too much.”

They both fell silent. All Tim could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. His head slowly came back down. He hated losing his cool. Hated the fact that he knew that he was going to regret most of that tomorrow. That he was going to think of a million things he should have said, a million ways of wording it better. It’s why he rarely shouted because if he kept things clear, concise and slow then he could avoid that regret and the flaming shit pile that the aftermath always ended up being.

Bruce was staring at him like he’d never even seen him before. Which made sense really, there was a reason that Tim kept this side of him underwraps most of the time. He didn’t get much out of talking about his problems because usually it just made him feel worse to have other people try and take responsibility for it and he never got anywhere that way. He was dealing with it anyway. Everything was fine.

“Bruce, I, I don’t know what came over me. I’m f-”

“I swear to god if you say that you’re fine right now then I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Bruce’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it was low and had a hint of threat to it.

“But I’m swear I’m-”

“You aren’t fine Tim!” That one came out desperate. Bruce’s eyes had started flicking across his face repeatedly, “You aren’t fine.”

Just then, like a rubber band being pulled back and back and back, it felt like something inside him snapped and threw him away from himself. He crumpled, “no,” did his voice crack? That was new, “no, I’m not.”

Notes:

there might be a chapter 3, there might not because i'm not so great at coming up with ideas for reconciliation scenes but do hit me with a comment if that's something you'd be interested in

Chapter 3

Notes:

so here we go, chapter 3 of 3. I know that it's slightly on the short side but it seemed to come to a natural end so I decided to leave it to it.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“He looked wrecked Dick. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Yeah, I saw it. I don’t think he’s slept properly since. Bruce is so hesitant to leave him alone.”

Jason shoved his hands down deeper in his jacket, hunching against the wind. There was always something a little more icy about it at this time of year. Especially at the top of the Wayne Enterprises’ building.

“That bad huh?”

He couldn’t see Dick’s eyes behind his domino but he was exhausted, “I think it has been for a while but it all came flowing out the other night and Bruce is blaming himself for not seeing it sooner.”

“Kid’s a hell of an actor.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realise how bad it was. Like I knew he wasn’t okay but I never considered for a moment that it was-”

“Don’t do that to yourself Dicholas, you don’t need that. Not when Timmy needs you.”

Dick just looked down at his feet. Jason knew exactly how he felt. Tim had hidden a stab wound from them, a stab wound , and they’d told him to tell someone if it got worse. What exactly did worse than that look like? 

“What’s happening now?”

“Bruce called Dinah, scheduled a meeting for tomorrow and if that doesn’t work there are a couple of League vetted psychiatrists he could go to and he’s off patrol for the moment.”

“Bet he’s not happy about that?”

Dick grinned sharply, “I give it a week before he’s back doing casework in the cave.”

They fell silent for a bit, listening to the music filtering out from a club nearby and watching the alley they were staking out. There was meant to be some kind of weapons sale happening there tonight, Penguin related. A police siren whizzed by from the direction of the docks. Bab’s voice crackled through their comms, reporting it as a chase. Kate was closest.

“You should come by the manor.”

Huffing, Jason pulled a cigarette out his pocket and cupped his hand around his lighter to stave off the wind, “Yeah no, I don’t think I’m anywhere near mentally stable enough to be helping anybody.”

“Jay-”

“Dick, he came to my house looking two seconds from losing his mind and I couldn’t help because I was having a bad day and couldn’t sit with him without risk of dragging myself back down again. You know I hate being around Bruce when I’m like that.”

“It’s just cause I can only get so long off of work-”

“Shut up.”

“Jay!”

“No, we got action.” He gestured towards where a figure had appeared at the end of the alley with a briefcase in one hand.

“What the hell is Zsasz doing working for Cobblepot?”

“My guess is he’s too broke to afford Deathstroke so he’s gone for the cheaper less stable version.”

“Since when did we consider Slade stable?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

 





Tap on the door. Followed by silence. Then another slightly louder tap.

“Drake. Can I speak with you?”

Damian, that was unexpected. He’d been waiting for Cass to come back from lunch. He would’ve gone down but he couldn’t stand the way Bruce kept staring at him whenever he thought that Tim wasn’t looking. 

“Yeah, come in.”

He’d barely slept but hadn’t moved much. Bruce had wanted to take his laptop away but something (or someone) had changed his mind and Tim had woken up to it laid down next to his bed. He’d spent the morning mindlessly watching a series on Netflix whilst trying to gather up the nerve to send Conner a message to let him know what happened. He just couldn’t word it right. The recently deleted section of the notes app on his phone was a graveyard of unused messages. 

Damian pushed opened the door awkwardly using his shoulder before promptly sitting down at the foot of the bed and rubbing behind the ears of Alfred the cat, who had been clutched in his arms. It always struck Tim how young Damian looked in moments like this. In an oversized hoodie and unkempt hair. He looked like the 14-year-old he was rather than the 60-year-old man he usually acted like. 

He sighed.

“What do you want, Damian?”

Damian’s fingers twitched across Alfred’s back and he didn’t quite raise his eyes to look at Tim properly, “Who says I have to want something?”

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Tim couldn’t help but sigh, he didn’t have the energy to deal with the labour of dragging Damian’s emotions slowly out of him right now, where was Dick when you needed him? 

“You do, constantly.”

Damian’s shoulders tensed, but Tim couldn’t find it within himself to back down and play the mediator that he always had. This time last week he probably would’ve said something to placate Damian so that he wouldn’t leave the room mad. But not today. Damian huffed for a moment before jumping up off the bed and striding out. 

Tim knew that the kid had probably wanted to make him feel better, that he probably didn’t understand the way Tim was feeling or why he was acting the way he was but it was precisely for that reason that Tim couldn’t sit down and talk to him right now.

Under it all, Damian was still a 14-year-old boy, granted one that acted like a retired old man most of the time, but a 14-year-old boy who had grown up with two parents that loved him all the same. 

Picking up his phone again, Tim tried not to think about the dejected look on Damian’s face when he had left the room. He’d get over it. It’s not like they hadn’t fought before, at least tonight he wouldn’t have to go out into the city at the same time as a Damian carrying many many weapons. So that was a plus. 

 

Hi Kon, 

I know you’re busy with family stuff with Clark and Kara so don’t worry about replying to this too quick I just need to talk to you about something that I’ve been putting off for too long. I’m not asking for help, not really cause I’m already figuring that out. I just remember when you told me I could come to you with anything, so this is me, coming to you with-

 

NO, shit, that sounded stupid and cheesy.

 

Hi Kon,

I know you’re with Clark and Kara I just wanted to tell you that I’m not feeling so great at the moment and it’s not getting better anytime soon-

 

No, that made him sound terminally ill. Like he needed to talk to Kon about it, he knew he did but he couldn’t make it so bad that Kon worried about him too much.

 

Kon, I know you’re busy but was wondering if we could talk a bit more when you’re about? I kind of had a minor breakdown and now Bruce is on my case about shit and I need someone to vent to about it all… again…

 

no.

 

call me when you get the chance? Haven’t seen you in a while and I’ve got some stuff that I need to talk about. Don’t rush from Clark and Kara, just when you’re done yeah?

 

Tim hit send before he could regret it and immediately chucked his phone face down and went back to trying to hack his way through the guards that Bruce had put up to try and keep him out of the Batcomputer.






Tim watched a raindrop land on the window and then slowly make its way down to the bottom, merging with another one on the way. He hated how it always seemed to be raining in Gotham. Maybe he just needed to go and spend some time somewhere actually sunny for a while, somewhere that he didn’t need to have a jacket with him every time he left the house. Bruce was sitting in the driver’s seat. Tapping his fingers absentmindedly against the steering wheel as he trailed along behind the car in front. 

That’s the other thing that they always had in Gotham. Goddamn traffic. 

“You sure it’s not too much?”

Tim sighed, “yeah B, I’m sure.”

“Cause you know you can say- if it is.”

“It’s only 20 hours a week, I’m fine.”

Bruce drummed his fingers some more, “But with casework as well-”

“I swear Bruce if you don’t let me go back and do some work I am going to go insane.”

“Okay.”

Tim found himself nodding at the dashboard. He glanced at Bruce out of the corner of his eye but his eyes were watching the road in front of him, not Tim. 

“And you’re okay? You’re doing better?”

Tim swallowed the instinctual I’m fine before it came out and paused instead. Pretending he didn’t see the way that Bruce’s eyes darted across to look at him. How could he answer that question?

He knew the answer that Bruce wanted him to say, what he wanted to hear from Tim. The affirmation that he was doing the right thing. That he’d handled this the right way, the reassurance. He knew Bruce meant well but the closedness of the question couldn’t help but grate him because for Tim it wasn’t that simple. Still wasn’t that simple because truthfully the answer was yes he was doing better in a lot of ways but that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling numb in the middle of the night when nobody else was around. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t sometimes so filled up with misplaced resentment for Bruce and Dick, Steph, hell even Jason for the fact that it took him almost getting shot to notice something was wrong even though he knew it wasn’t their fault that he was such a damn good actor.

It didn’t mean that Tim didn’t still try and avoid tall buildings on patrol because he scared himself with the thoughts he’d get. Bruce wasn’t making Tim account for every single weapon he left with before he could go upstairs again after patrol anymore but Tim was, just to be safe.

“Sure Bruce, yeah, I’m doing better.”

Old habits die hard and he was, truly, probably.

“Good.”

“Yeah, it’s umm, it’s good to be busy. Like patrolling, being with the Titans… not to distract me, just being with other people, instead of up in my head.”

They inched forward again, the front door of Wayne enterprises came into sight down the street.

“Yeah, yeah that makes sense.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Bruce let out a deep breath.

“Do you want me to drop you off outside before I go and park the car? So you don’t have to get as wet?”

A part of Tim relaxed, glad that the conversation was over, “Yeah that’d be good.”

They pulled up outside and Tim looked out at the rain splashing off the road, he didn’t jerk when Bruce put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll see you in a minute, Tim.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Tim climbed out and walked behind the car so Bruce couldn’t make a judgement of whether he’d looked both ways for long enough before crossing. Yeah, he should ask Kon to fly him somewhere sunny for the weekend. He was so sick of rain.

Notes:

thank you so much to everyone who has left love on this fic, I really do appreciate every single one of you immensely, you're the reason I even got 3 chapters out at all.

Notes:

huh apparently breaking up your girlfriend produces sad writing, who knew?
But yeah hit me with some kudos or a comment if you enjoyed or are as much of a sucker for sad tim as i am :)

Also find me on Tumblr: @thelampofthemoment