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Ra’s watched from a higher ledge as the young man emerged from the water. He was screaming, clutching at his head. Everything was going as planned.
He snapped his fingers and slowly some of his guards moved towards the edge of the water. They did not offer assistance, merely watched as Timothy Drake flailed in the water.
“I don’t know what your plan is, Father.” Talia mused from behind him. “But the second Beloved or my son hear that their protégé has returned, they will be after him.”
“I’m aware.” Ra’s said.
“And if you have done this to harm my son…” Talia began threateningly.
“I haven’t.” Ra’s claimed. It wasn’t a total lie. He didn’t do it for that reason only. Ra’s did have some ideas about using this development to have his grandson agree to the terms of being his vessel, but nothing fully formed yet. “It was my fault the boy was killed. I am only righting a wrong.”
“But you don’t have any plans to return him to his home.” Talia surmised. “This is all for your gain, isn’t it.”
Ra’s didn’t blink, watching as Tim slowly calmed, taking in his surroundings. There was a flash in the younger man’s eyes. He was evaluating already. Taking in his surroundings, judging the threats to his person. He couldn’t stop the smirk appearing on his lips as Tim’s muscles tightened.
“In a way.” Ra’s admitted. “I always did admire Timothy’s skills.”
He and Talia didn’t move as Tim launched himself out of the water, taking out any guard in his vicinity.
“He developed much faster than Batman or my grandson.” Ra’s continued. “He could be useful.”
It became apparent immediately that Tim wasn’t holding back. When he put these guards down, they were not getting up, ever.
“And I’ve always needed an assistant.”
~~
Talia came upon him in the library. He was sitting behind a desk, a book out in front of him. But he wasn’t reading it. Instead, he was slouched in the high-backed chair, hollow eyes staring in front of him.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked nonchalantly, even though she knew what the answer would be.
“Same as every day.” Tim replied. “I can’t sleep, my head feels like it’s on fire. Or that there’s twelve other people in there. All I want to do is punch anyone who gets near me. Or kill them. That’s suddenly an option I’m not real quick to spurn.”
“It’s the effect of the Pit.” Talia nodded.
“Well the effect sucks.” Tim sighed, running a hand down his face. “Almost makes me want to reverse what it did, if you get my meaning.”
Talia paused. “My father will just bring you back again.”
“I know.” Tim dropped his hand. “I…I know.”
Talia waited a moment before moving towards the desk. “You seem…distracted today.”
“I’ve been cooped up in this freaking base for months, Talia. At first I thought it would be okay. Being your father’s right-hand man. Seemed interesting. I never fully disagreed with anything he did. Only opposed some of it because Bruce wanted me to. And his method seems a little more…effective.” Tim explained. The words became faster the longer he spoke, and Talia realized he must have been holding this in for ages. “But I…I don’t know if I can do this for real. Or in the long run anyway. I don’t know if I want to.”
Talia watched him for a moment as he tried to calm his breathing. It was slightly worrisome, she had to admit, how quick he was to anger. Softly, she asked, “Then what do you want?”
Tim was prone for a moment before he leaned forward, pulling open a drawer to his left. Suddenly he slammed a stack of photographs across the desk and book. The images fanned out on their own, and Talia didn’t touch them as she took in their contents.
They were of Bruce, same as always, and of Damian, in a new version of his uniform. She hadn’t seen or spoken to either of them in months, and she could tell these images were recent. They both looked so…dark. Unhappy. Guilty. But there were a few photographs with a third person. A boy, not much younger than Timothy, in the Robin colors. The elder Waynes looked less guarded in these frames, more protective. She glanced up at Tim, who was watching her carefully.
“I want to go home.”