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Tim had retreated to his own house of all things, he should have gone to the Cave especially after having a full Dose of Fear Toxic pumped into his veins, but his Instincts had screamed to go somewhere he knew he wouldn't be disturbed, wouldn't be a burden.
The Batcave wasn't that place. His empty house was.
His parents were away, in Bolivia or something, he wasn't sure, he hadn't heard from them for a couple of weeks now but he knew they wouldn't be back anytime soon, they never were.
He'd ended up, still in his Robin attire, curled up in his closet, the bottom of it was wooden, hard and not comfortable in the slightest, but the cold chill from it was grounding. He thought it was anyway, or maybe it was making things worse? Was the cold feeling from the toxin or the empty house devoid of any light or love? Tim let out a muffled whimper, fog filling his mind, edges of his vision tinged green. He'd had a run in with Scarecrow before, he'd had a minor dose of the stuff before but never this bad and he couldn't imagine what to expect, rational thought slipping from his mind, instead falling deep into the waters of despair.
The sight was unexpected but Tim no longer could rationally tell apart what was real and what wasn't, his parents barged into the room, his mother was screaming, his father was clenching his fist, other hand in his belt buckle.
“Timothy! We raised you better than this. You’re pathetic, weak, a disgrace to your family.” His mother yelled, ragging open the closet doors. Tim squeaked in fear, trying to curl up further when her sharp manicured nails dug into his bare arm, pulling him out and dropping him onto the floor with little care. He couldn’t raise his head, kept himself burrowed in a ball, sobbing and shuddering violently as he finally saw the belt, one end dangling down near his face, his father having unbuckled it while Janet had pulled him out.
“Boy, you will stop this nonsense immediately. I won’t have any child of mine run around with that deranged psychopath.” Jack spat, clearly meaning Batman considering Tim was still in the Robin costume. His parents knew. They so obviously knew. He’d messed up everything. They’d find out about Bruce- He- Oh God was he going to get Batman killed? And Dick? Alfred? Steph? He whined again as his mothers hands reached for his cape, pulling him up with it. When it started to choke him, he followed the motion to avoid the lack of air he’d get if he didn’t, his mother continuing to pull until he was on his knees.
“Take off that infernal costume this minute, Timothy.” His mother snarled, face twisted into the most angry expression Tim had ever seen. His father had the belt wrapped around one hand, pulled tight with the other in a big loop. Tim shuddered. If he took off the Kevlar, that belt would hurt way more.
“You either take it off Boy, or I’ll tell everyone just who The Batman is, you think we’re stupid? We know you run off to that bastard Wayne most nights.” Jack growled. Tim froze. They knew. They knew. They knew.
Tim’s hands shook as he reached for the hidden clasps. He had to protect Batman. He was Robin. His job was to protect Batman- He-
His hands slipped the clasp at another violent tremble, sobs tearing through him. His chest burned and his eyes stung.
“Hurry up, Timothy. Honestly, we spent all these years housing you, feeding you, giving you the independence boys your age are never usually trusted with.. And you repay us like this?” Janet hissed, having stepped back to watch, taking a drag from a cigarette. Tim didn’t even know his mother smoked… but how could he, she was never here. His father was never here. Why were they here now? Why was he dressed a Robin in his house again-
The chest piece fell off, clunked on the floor leaving him only in his tank top undershirt, the boots and the trousers came off next, joining the chest piece on the floor, grateful he’d worn the longer underlayers, shivering at the cold. The gloves followed, cape unclasped and mask peeled off. He felt exposed, donned only in a tank and a pair of long trousers.
“Well at least you’re good at one thing boy, you know how to follow orders. Bet that's why that Bastard next door took you in. He has a thing for little boys doesn’t he? Do you follow his orders? You spread your legs for him like a whore and in return you let you dress up like a parrot?” Jack snarled.
“N-No! He’s- He’s not like that- he’s nice.” Tim cried, because Bruce would never. He loved Dick and he had loved Jason, they were his sons and he would never-
Tim was just an outsider. Bruce didn’t even really like him let alone want to-
Tim shivered again, when Janet's hands returned, sharp fingernails digging into his wrists and she grabbed onto each, holding his arms away from his torso. He struggled against her hold, when had his mother gotten so strong? He was Robin and yet he couldn’t do a thing to break her hold. His legs kicked and flayed with no avail. Jack’s hands ripped the shirt from him so easily, throwing the cloth behind him while Janet wrangled Tim onto his stomach on the floor. Once he was flat, face down, her hands let go, she stood back up and one foot instantly slammed down on his back, pushing down and down and Tim couldn’t breathe. He choked and struggled but the foot wouldn’t move, forcing him down against the floor, crushing his chest beneath him.
“Hold him there, darling, I need to teach him a lesson. How many do you think?” Jack sneered while Janet’s foot held Tim down.
“N-No D-Dad- I- I promise- I’ll stop- I-”
“Shut up, Boy. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.” Jack snapped angrily, belt snapping through the air to make a noise. It didn’t hit Tim but he shook like it had, made a loud wail of fear. He didn’t want this. It was one thing if goons got the drop on him, beat him up, sure he expected it and it didn’t- it hurt sure but not as bad as- his own parents?
“20? Ten for every year he thought he could hide this from us?” Janet asked, teeth on display. Tim couldn’t see though, his body still forced down, head tilted sideways, cheek pressed into the wooden floor, so he could still try to desperately breathe.
Jack made a noise of agreement.
For a moment there was silence from the adults, only Tim’s pathetic sobs and gasping attempts to consume more air and then-
Tim screamed, the noise tearing through him, his throat hurt, his head felt tight and his back felt like molten lava had been tipped onto it. His dad had used the buckle end. He’d- He’d beat Tim with the end with the buckle, metal smacking against his back, the prong from it having cut along his back in a fine line. Tim screamed again and again, desperate noises of sheer terror.
“D-Dad I’m- I’m sorry ple-please do- don’t h-hit me any more. I- I’m- I’m sorry I-” Tim babbled even though he’d been told to be quiet. “I’m- I’m sorry I’m a failure, I’m- I’m sorry I can’t ever be- be good enough- I- I promise I’m- I’m not a whore- I’m not! I- I just wanted to help- I- Batman ne-needed someone- he was- he wanted to di-die and- and I- I just want-wanted to help- I-”
The next hit was even harder, the frame of the buckle smashing against his shoulder blade, sending another guttural choked noise from Tim’s frame.
“You lying bitch. I know you fucking did. I can see it in your eyes. You’re a little slut for that paedophile, I remember the last two birds he had were in those tiny little pants, were they not, darling?” Jack asked Janet who hummed.
“Yes, they did, the poor things, bet he had them wear those for quicker access.” Janet mused as Tim finally gave up his struggle, exhausted and so tired. He wanted it to stop but no matter how much he fought he couldn’t escape.
“N-No- My- Th-The Robins- The- The ones before me- they- they were- they were so much better D-Dad. They- magic. I- I’m ne-never going to be enough.” Tim shuddered as Jack clicked his tongue.
"Tell me Boy, tell me how much of a failure you are, I want to hear you've learnt your place." Jack growled, another two hits that had Tim screech again, hiccupping, choking wails. He wanted it to end. He didn't want to believe his parents could do this. Sure, his Father had hit him before, but never like this and sure his Mother had dug her nails into him before, at Galas but this… This was worse.
"I'm- I'm a failure." Tim whispered quietly, fight drained from him, stopping his struggle, able to feel the fire along his back and the blood trickling from his wounds.
"Louder!" Jack snarled, another hit to his shoulder blade that had Tim scream again but a lacking intake of oxygen had him drained, he could hardly move.
"I'm a failure! I'm a failure! I will never be as good as my Robin, not him, never him. I don't deserve his colours. I wish- I wish I'd died instead of him." Tim whined out before dissolving into coughs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Tim whispered. He wanted it all to stop.
"It's okay Baby Bird, Timmy, you're safe, I promise." There was a voice, it was gruff and urgent and yet oh so familiar.
"Robin. Robin. I'm so sorry Robin. I- I didn't mean to take it, I- I just wanted to keep your dad safe! I- I- you saved my life and- and I- I couldn't repay you- but.. If I saved your dad...that would- that would count right-?" Tim babbled as the scene changed. He wasn't sprawled on the floor, beaten senseless in just his trousers, nor was he locked in the closet, cold and alone.
He was in someone's arms, someone's wide arms wrapped in a soft quilt and held back against someone's warm chest.
"You're safe now, I promise. No one will hurt you. You're okay. I've got you Robin." Robin spoke which confused Tim because why was he calling Tim Robin?
"Jason." Tim trembled and raised his heavy arms to wrap around the big frame, his vision clearing enough to make out the bulky shape of Robin. He looked older, stronger, healthier but it was Jason.
“Jason- Jason- I’m sorry- I- I tried my best. I’m sorry I failed you.” Tim cried into his chest, mind too confused, too emotionally overwhelmed to comprehend how Jason could be here, how a dead boy was in his house?
“Shh, Timtam, it’s okay, you did good, you did so good, I’m proud of you. There’s no one I’d rather have to wear those colours.” Jason soothed, rocking him steadily in his hold. Tim hiccupped and then broke into a coughing fit, Jason rubbing his back with one large hand. “It’s okay. I promise. You’re going to be just fine.” Jason continued, speaking softly. Tim couldn’t help but trust him, feel safe in the arms of his Robin, the boy who’d saved his life…
Eventually Tim cried himself into slumber, body exhausted and still quivering in its sleep, muscles confused from the overwork, from being tense for so long and then suddenly relaxed. Jason’s thumb came up to brush away dried tears.
“Fuck.” He hissed out, quietly, with Robin asleep in his arms, fingers still clenching tight against his jacket even while asleep.
He hadn’t expected that. He’d come here to beat the crap out of his replacement and found the kid instead curled up in the closet begging his parents to stop beating him, whining and pleading and admitting how worthless he was, how he’d failed Jason’s memory and how he’d taken the suit only to save Bruce. How he wanted to have died in Jason's place…
Jason had halted any plans of torture so fast at that. This kid, this tiny child, was selfless and brave and utterly alone. He’d run home to an empty house rather than the cave.
His fear toxin response had to have come from somewhere, Jason was sure his own exposure would have him back in the warehouse… It didn’t just show you something scary, it showed you your own personal fears… fears that had to come from somewhere.
You don’t just fear your parents beating your ass if regularly they’re normal people, there had to have been some sort of catalyst for that to take precedence over all the horrors the kid probably saw as Robin. Thus, Jason concluded his parents had probably hit the kid before, or worse.
He couldn't fight a little, neglected, abused, potentially suicidal kid who was just trying to help Jason’s.. Father adult.
He held Tim tight, still wrapped in the sheet he’d pulled from the bed, holding Tim to his chest as he stood up. The kid weighed barely nothing.
“S’kay Timmy, I got you.” Jason murmured when Tim groaned and twitched in his sleep, still clearly feeling the effects of the toxin but no longer crying out. Jason headed to the kitchen, kept Tim held tight in one arm while the other pottered about, warmed up some water for a hot chocolate and turned on the stove. He was going to make soup, just something light, the kid would probably want something when he woke up.
He hummed to himself lowly, keeping Tim close, the kids head on his shoulder as he slept. He was almost done when he felt it. He didn’t turn but he did pause.
“Don’t just lurk in the shadows, Old Man. You get your ass in here and explain this shit to me right now.” Jason snapped. Bruce inhaled sharply from the shadows and did as ordered, moving closer, further into the room, away from the concealed darkness to stand beside Jason, looking at Tim, through the cowl, with concern.
“Wanna tell me why exactly your little bird thought he had to ride out fear toxic alone in a closet than to come with you?” Jason hissed quietly, his free hand coming to brush a strand of hair off Tim’s face, melted a little when one of Tim’s hands subconsciously grabbed at his wrist to pull the limb close to his chest, to hug it tight against himself. Jason let him.
“Turn the stove off B, my hands are full.” Jason tilted his head at the stove and Bruce slowly complied, confusion etched on his face.
“You…-” Bruce started slowly and Jason could only roll his eyes, face unmasked.
“I’m not gonna hurt the kid, calm your tits. He’s… he’s good. I like him.” Jason admitted while Bruce moved the pan off the cooling stove. He continued onwards, tipping the red liquid into a bowl and picking up the mug Jason had made. Jason gave the smallest of smiles at Bruce’s assistance before moving to the living room.
“Let me be clear, B. This kid needs you to sort your shit out. He’s clearly either neglected or abused or both and he’s got more self worth issues than Dickwing himself. You either take better care of your bird or I’m stealing him for myself, Red Robin had a nice ring to it…” Jason threatened and Bruce nodded.
“I.. will.” Bruce replied, unsure how to approach the situation considering their last meeting had ended in Bruce being unsure if his son was alive.
“Tim, little duck, wake up.” Jason murmured, moving his arm back from Tim’s hold. Tim groaned and scrunched up his face as he woke before freezing, realising his position. His eyes snapped open and he stared up at Jason in shock and awe.
“J-Jason?” Tim whispered, still sat on Jason’s knee. Jason nodded slowly, frowning when Tim’s hands came up to hold his cheeks, needing proof the man wasn’t a ghost perhaps?
“Y-You’re… am I dead finally?” Tim asked quietly, missing Bruce’s wounded noise.
“No little duck, you’re alive, I am too. You had a bad fear toxin run-in. Can you try and eat a little for me, drink and then we’ll get you somewhere comfy to nap?” Jason soothed and Tim nodded slowly.
“Y-Yes Robin.” Tim murmured sleepily, turning to the offered soup bowl on the table, still completely missing Bruce sat opposite.
“Good boy, Timbo. You let us know if you still feel bad, does anywhere hurt?”
“No, I- I'm oka-...Us?” Tim asked, blinking slowly before his eyes raised from the bowl and met Bruce sat opposite, cowl pulled back, watching carefully, face full of concern.
“B-Batman- Sir- um. I’m so sorry- I- I ran off before I could write my report- um-”
“Tim, sweetheart, please never scare me like that again. You vanished after exposure to dangerous substances and I… I couldn’t find you. I.. was scared.” Bruce admitted, voice raw. Jason let out a little smile, that was what he needed to see, needed to see Bruce could be trusted and honest with the new bird.
"M'sorry.” Tim mumbled, looking down ashamed.
“Tim, honey no, you’re not in trouble, I was just scared of losing you.” Bruce quickly interjected. Jason looked beyond pleased.
“But… Jason is back. You.. don’t need me? I can stay here now. I- I was just filling it while you.. I didn’t want you to die.” Tim admitted sadly. “It’s okay if you don’t want me anymore, I can move back in here.”
Jason couldn’t contain the growl that burst free, and Bruce didn’t attempt to mask the horror on his face.
“No, Tim, sweetheart, you’re- I- If you’re not uncomfortable at the prospect, I’d love for you to be my ward…I’ve- I’ve been trying to find a way to broach it with you for a while, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I know you have parents but since they’re away often… I thought you might like to move in permanently at the manor?” Bruce asked slowly as Jason tightened his hold around Tim’s waist, holding him as he slowly ate his soup and drank his hot chocolate, looking overwhelmed and exhausted. “And.. you- you’re… thank you for saving me Tim.” Bruce swallowed, eyes wet.
“You saved me from a place I.. I didn’t see any hope in. I’m so grateful you entered my life- I’m sorry I never made you feel welcome- I’m sorry I never told you how much I love you, son.” Bruce admitted, hands clenched by his sides. “I’ll do better, by you both, please let me try.”
Jason buried his face into Tim’s shoulder, the younger made a startled noise and tried to twist to see what was wrong with Jason until he heard the first shuddering sob from the other.
“May I?” Bruce asked, standing, opening his arms. Tim shyly nodded, cheeks flushed and his own eyes wet once more, soup forgotten at the emotions revelations he was wanted and loved and-
“Please.” Tim whispered, brokenly. Bruce surged forward at the permission, pulling an exhausted Tim and crying Jason into his own arms.
“I have you both. My sons.” He softly spoke, one hand coming to hold either boy. Tim snuggled into Bruce’s chest, smile wide despite the tears and Jason… Jason muffled his own wet noises into Bruce’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry Dad-” Jason’s muffled voice met Bruce’s ears and Bruce shook his head even though neither boy could see.
“You have nothing to apologise for Jaylad. I’m.. I’m sorry I can’t do what you want me to do… but please- anything else, I- It’s- please let me make things up to you.” Bruce pleaded and Jason only shuddered.
“Y-You- look after my little brother and we’ll call it quits. D-Dont let him die in those colours.” Jason urged and Bruce could only swallow and nod.
“I’ll- I promise.” Bruce replied, voice breathless and high because the thought of going through that again? Bruce would rather die first.
Maybe later, after they’d cried themselves to exhaustion and gotten over the sheer overwhelming emotional confrontation, things might get more violent, perhaps Bruce and Jason would fight or Tim would revert to pure denial that anyone would want him… but that was a problem for the future, for now, none of the three men wanted to move, wanted to break the hug, wanted to face reality.
For now they’d nap, holding onto one another, forgetting they were unmasked in costume in a place with minimal security…
It would be fine, Oracle and Nightwing would watch over them.