Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Things were really bad.

One of the Rogues, probably multiple, had set off bombs all over the city.

It was in the middle of the day, during summer break. Tim was in the early stages of his shift, and after the first two bombs had gone off, they had been on high alert.

The ambulances were sent out immediately, but at first Tim had stayed at the hospital.

By the third bomb, the Bats had been seen around the city. Red Hood and Batman had both been confirmed to have dismantled two other bombs, but nobody was certain how many more there were.

Tim was sent out with the ambulance and emergency crews after the fourth bomb went off.

It was an office building. Somehow, it was still standing. The moment they got close enough, Tim kept out of the truck and ran inside, joining the firefighters and policemen in evacuating the crumbling building.

It was hard work. Tim was covered head to toe in dust before the hour was over, and he knew it was only going to get worse.

At some point during the second hour, something colorful caught his eye. Tim gasped, then coughed as he breathed in the dust.

It was Robin.

Robin raced through, helping the officers get people out from the wrecked building.

When Tim passed by him at one point, he couldn't help but ask; "Robin, what's the status on the other bombs?"

Tim flinched when Robin flipped around to stare sharply at him. Tim winced inwardly, he knew that it was risky to talk to the boy outside the mask, but Robin was the only Bat around, and the Bats were definitely keeping track of everything.

Eventually, Robin answered. "The bombs are handled. Now, we are helping with cleanup." Robin's tone was clear dismissal. Tim almost wilted in relief; both at the indication that the boy didn't recognize him, and at the answer.

"Thank you." Tim said gratefully before turning back to head back into the building. He felt Robin's eyes on him the entire way back.

________________________________________________

The reason why it was taking so long to clear out the building was for two reasons. One, it was a larger building, with seven floors total. Two, even though the bomb didn't destroy the whole thing, the damage was gradually getting worse and worse. They were expecting the building to collapse completely by midnight, if not sooner because of all the movement.

So they were working to extract people out from under debris, without moving things too much and causing the roof to come down.

They had successfully evacuated the top three floors, with officers and EMT's on the rest of the floors trying to work quickly to finish the last four floors.

Tim was working on the fourth floor with a group, but currently there were two others there right now. The others had gone down to bring the patients to the ambulance.

At some point, Robin had joined them on the fourth floor. Tim was careful to treat him as he would a coworker, so as not to betray his familiarity with Robin.

They were past hour 3 of evacuating when the building started to groan.

The four of them froze in place, glancing around the room they were currently in quickly. It was the final room on the floor, but it was also the most unstable. The bomb had been placed on the third floor, in a room not far from where they stood.

The issue was that this was also where the final two victims of this floor were buried.

As the building continued to shift and groan, Tim spurred into motion and snapped at the other three. "You two! Take care of the woman at the desk. Robin and I will get the man out. Take her downstairs as fast as you can; the building is going to come down soon."

The two officers nodded and shot into motion. Tim didn't know their names, but he had noticed how comfortable they were working together.

Tim turned to Robin, who was scowling at him, and carefully made his way through the wreckage to where the man was buried. Robin continued his glower as he carefully followed.

The man was unconscious and bleeding from a pole that had landed on his leg. It didn't seem to be going all the way through his leg, just partway. There were sparks around them from the electrical wires that had been damaged, and the ceiling tiles that had been destroyed lay in crumbled blocks around them, leaving them in a very precarious position with the floor being destroyed and breaking.

Tim yanked out his med kit and grabbed the bandages and necessary items from it. "Robin, is there anything keeping him trapped besides the pole?" Tim asked as he started setting up.

Robin was slowly edging around the man to look. After a minute, he called out. "No. The pole is keeping him trapped, but he was definitely hit on the head with the wreckage."

Tim nodded. "Okay. We aren't going to be able to carry him out as carefully as we should because the building is collapsing." He finished setting up the bandages and stuff and turned to face Robin. "I'm going to need you to put pressure on his wound the moment we get the pole out. I will pull, and I need you to take care of the bandages until I can take over. Understand?"

Tim explained coolly and quickly, but the new Robin did not appreciate buying ordered around.

Robin growled. "I am not incompetent, you idiot. Clearly I would be the better choice to take the pole out, as I am stronger and better trained."

Tim narrowed his eyes. Now was not the time to be arguing about this! "I am taller and have better reach than you. I will take the pole out, and once we get him bandaged we can carry him out."

Robin opened his mouth to argue again. "I know how to bandage people, you absolute—"

Tim cut him off. "Enough! Grab the bandages, we need to hurry!" As if on cue, the floor on the edge of the room broke apart, dropping into the room below.

Tim shifted to grab the pole, waiting a moment for Damian to grab the bandages and get into position. Robin glared at him even as he did so.

Tim counted off. "Three. Two. One-" and pulled.

Thankfully, Robin listened to him even if he wasn't happy about it.

Tim set the pole aside carefully, and then rushed to finish treating the wound.

By the time they finished, the two officers had already gotten the other woman outside. They had ignored the crashes and crumbling of the building as they stopped the bleeding, but now that they were done they realized what had collapsed.

Robin and Tim looked at where the stairs used to be, Tim in worry, and Robin in anger.

"You incompetent buffoon! If you had let me do the bandages, we would have been finished before the stairs collapsed!"

Robin continued his rant, but Tim was too busy scanning around them to listen. He could feel Robin's fear, even if it was coming out as anger.

Finally, Tim came up with something. "Robin, look!" He had located the emergency stairs, which were only partially collapsed, versus the stairs they had previously used, which were completely gone.

Robin growled at it, but nodded. "Fine. We shall use these. But I will be passing this man down, not you!"

Tim only nodded. That was fine, they just needed to move.

Tim pulled out a harness from his bag and carefully slid the unconscious man into it. Using a rope, he slid down to the third floor before passing it back to Robin to tie to the harness.

As they continued, they realized that it wasn't just the fourth floor stairs that had collapsed: it was all of them. And bot only that, but the rest of the building had been evacuated already, leaving them as the last group inside. So they used any hole in the ground large enough, or any other method they could to get the man down. Robin insisted on being the one to lower the man each time, with Tim being the one at the bottom to catch him.

It was slower than they wanted, but they were able to get the man down to the first floor, with Tim there to carry him out of the building.

Tim ran out with the man, still unconscious, on his back. He rushed him to a stretcher, and passed him to another EMT. when Tim turned to face Robin, he realized Robin hadn't followed him.

"Where's Robin?" Tim called out to the firefighters keeping a watch around the building.

Ted, a firefighter he met earlier that day, turned to face him, looking confused. "What do you mean? Robin was with you, wasn't he?"

Tim felt his blood turn to ice. "Did you see him come out of the building? Did Robin follow me out of the building?!" Tim demanded from the man, terrified.

Ted shook his head, scared now that he realized what Tim meant. "No, Robin didn't follow you out. Is he still in there?!"

Tim ran back to the building without answering him. If Robin was still in there…

"Tim! The building is going to collapse in the next twenty minutes! You can't go in there!" Ted shouted to him. That would explain why everybody was behind the perimeter now.

But if Robin was still in there… Tim shook his head. Hopefully Robin had just slipped away. But he has to check.

He ran through the first floor, frantically checking around him as he raced over to where he had last seen Robin.

Right there, in the hole between the second and first floor that they had used to get the victim out, lay a pile of rubble. Tim gasped as he heard a groan come from it.

"Robin! Are you there?!" Tim called out, edging closer carefully.

Immediately the pained noises stopped. "You foolish-what are you doing back in here?!" Robin snarled from his position. Or rather, he tried to snarl. The dust caused him to start coughing halfway through, even with his mask.

Finally reaching him, Tim started removing the rubble. "You didn't follow me out. I'm getting you out of the rubble, and we are both going to get out." Tim responded calmly as he analyzed the pile, trying to decide the best way to remove things without hurting Damian.

Robin coughed again before responding hoarsely. "My comms aren't sending messages, but I heard them. The building is going to collapse in just a few minutes."

Tim nodded, humming reassuringly to Damian without looking at him. Just looking at the pile. The pile of rubble that had too many pointy pieces, too much weight. It was crushing Damian, and Tim would be shocked if it hadn't broken a couple bones.

"What hurts? Are any bones broken, are there any injuries?" Tim asked him as he continued to carefully remove a large piece of tile.

Robin snapped. "I'm fine! I can get out on my own, but I don't trust you to get out as easily. Leave me and get out!" A pale hand reached out to shove Tim away, but Tim just ignored it.

"Are you injured?" Tim repeated pointedly.

When Robin refused to respond, Tim shook his head. He would have sighed had he not already been breathing heavily from the exertion spent on the rubble. "Ro-Robin, I'm. Not going to" a gasp "leave, you." Tim lifted off the heaviest thing, a large… pipe? He tossed it aside and worked to clear the last things off of Damian, finally able to get a good look at him.

Robin stared up at Tim from the floor, a hand on his upper thigh trying to stop the bleeding.

Tim yanked out his med kit and sat beside Robin. "What caused this?" He asked Damian as he yanked the boys hand away to cover it with bandages.

Robin grit his teeth at the pain and looked away. "I shot my grappling hook at the roof, but when I put my weight on it, the roof collapsed." Robin ground out slowly, audibly trying to keep his voice from quaking.

Tim grabbed Robin and swung him into a fireman carry, wincing at Damian's choke in pain.

He started making his way to the hall, but the quaking of the building suddenly got worse. They could hear the sounds of crashing and glass breaking, and Robin cried out in pain and anger.

"Drop me and go! I'm only slowing you down!" Damian choked out to Tim.

Tim shook his head though. "No." His tone absolutely frigid. "I'm not leaving you behind." The hall in front of them collapsed, blocking their way. They were plunged into darkness.

Tim frantically swung around, trying to see into the rooms around him to find a place to hide. He nearly cried in relief when he spotted a room with desks nearby.

He ran in and placed Damian on the ground and began pushing the desks together around them. Carefully, Damian was slid under the desks, and when the noises got louder, Tim stopped gathering more desks and jumped underneath the desks with Damian.

Damian must have fallen unconscious at some point, which was not a good sign. Tim grabbed Damians hand and squeezed it. The building collapsing was too loud to hear anything, and the darkness only accentuated the terror he felt.

Tim jumped the first time he felt something hit the desks above them. The room is collapsing around us…

He slid his backpack off and lay it in by Damian's head so that he could squeeze under the desk better.

That was, until the roof started collapsing.

Tim grabbed his headlight and turned it so that he could keep an eye on Robin. Who was still unconscious, and was laying on his back on the floor.

Each thing that crashed into the desks, Tim could feel. He felt himself shaking as more and more came down on top of them.

And then the desk cracked.

A long piece of wood speared through not only the desk, but Robin.

Tim's eyes widened and he gasped. "No!" Quickly he threw himself over Damian's body, shielding the boy with his own body.

Tim grit his teeth and let tears fall as he felt things hit his back through the gap. But he wouldn't let it reach Damian.

Finally, in what felt like hours later, it quieted down. The silence was suffocating, but at least they were alive.

Tim opened his eyes and scanned what he could of Robin. His face was pale and wet with sweat. But his eyes were still closed.

Tim shifted slightly, grunting in pain as he did so, trying to check Damians injuries.

The wood that split the desk had speared Damian's side. And the temporary bandages Tim had placed on his leg seemed to have bleed through.

Tim wished he could reach the distress beacon in his shoe. During the day, he usually only carried one or two with him. He had never used them before. But this was really bad.

"Robin." Tim hoarsely spoke. Damian didn't even twitch.

"Robin!" His voice cracked as he called, desperately trying to wake the younger boy up.

He had been holding himself up just barely above Damian, but he could feel his body tiring. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth as he very slowly lowered his knees to the ground, and pushed up with his hands. The dust ground into his palms and knees, and the pain in his back jumped sharply at the movement, but it was something he could hold. Finally he stopped moving, on his hands and knees keeping himself held above the boy.

His muscles burned as he held the position. Tim ignored the sweat that ran down his body, and focused completely on the boy in front of him.

"Robin!" He cried out the name over, and over, desperate to hear something from the child in front of him.

Tim saw black spots in his vision. He wasn't sure if it was from the whole, you know, being trapped under a building, or if it was him about to pass out.

"Damian." Tim whispered, his throat closing up as he cried. "Damian, please. I need you to wake up. Please."

Finally, Damian shifted. And then flinched, his eyes opening and looking up at Tim in confusion. "Wha-whats happening?" He stuttered out, sounding more vulnerable than Tim had ever heard him.

The relief nearly overwhelmed Tim, and he gasped out choked laughter. "It's, well, we are under a building. It collapsed." Tim said, still hazy from relief at hearing Damian's voice.

Damian scowled and tried to shift, but a scream escaped him as he moved.

"No! Stop moving! You got hit by a beam, and I'm not sure how bad it is. We can't take it out right now, and your leg wound might need more bandages." Tim said, panicked. But it got Damian to stop moving.

Damian's eyes were glazed over in pain as he tried to look around them. "Wh-why are you above m-me like that?" Damian studied Tim's body in its position above.

Tim tried to smile, but gave up. "We are shielded by some desks, but they were breaking. So I got underneath to reinforce them. And now, I don't think that I can get out unless we want our pocket of air to collapse."

Robin nodded, his scowl coming back as he winced in pain.

Tim closed his eyes to try and think. "My backpack! I have some painkillers in it, and antibiotics. Can you reach it? It's above your head."

Damian practically growled at him. "Of course I can retrieve your bag." And he immediately reached up to grab it. But the movement pulled at the muscles in his side, forcing a sound of pain from him.

Tim's eyes shot open (when did they close?) And put a hand over Damian's wound, which had gushed blood out due to the stretch. "Not your right arm! Just your left arm. I should have more bandages in the right pocket, can you hand them to me?" Tim gritted out, trying desperately to ignore the burning of his muscles and keep his body from shifting.

They worked slowly, and eventually they were able to bandage Damian's side.

As they tied off the bandage, there was a rumbling sound heard, and Tim tensed up even more as he felt the wreckage shift over his back.

They heard crashes as more wreckage fell. Luckily, the desks held together above them. That didn't stop things from around the desks though.

A shift right above their cover brought down a cloud of dust blocking Tim's vision. Tim's mask filtered the air, giving him unrestricted breathing, so it startled him when he heard Damian shout out and then start coughing.

"Robin? Robin are you alright?" Tim asked frantically. Even though the boy was directly underneath him, the dust had settled slightly on the face mask, blocking his vision.

Tim's concern grew as he listened to Damian's harsh breathing, interspaced with heavy coughs.

When Damian spoke, his voice was rough and cracking. "The last shift, it came down around the side of the desk and hit my head. The mask is broken." Tim could hear the fear in Damian's voice at the last bit, but that was overcome by his own fear.

"I can't see you, there is dust on my mask. Is there still stuff blocking your face?" Tim suppressed a groan from a sharp pain in his back. He ignored it and focused on Damian.

"Yes—" the rest of what he was trying to say was cut off by another coughing fit.

Tim tried to think of what to do. He would have to be able to see in order to remove any debris though, so Tim quickly lifted his hand and wiped the mask, dropping his hand as fast as he could to keep from shifting his back.

Tim blinked a couple times before focusing on the scene in front of him. There was a thick layer of dust on them, and it appeared to be a piece of ceiling that had landed on Damian, covering the upper half of the almost shattered mask and also locking his left arm into place.

Tim's medical bag was buried under the rubble as well.

"Okay, I'm going to count to three, and I need you to help me push the wreckage off of your hand, okay? Close your mouth, and breath through your nose as long as you can, got it?"

A weak yes from the child in front of him pushed him to get ready. Tim tensed his muscles and counted down. On three, he yank his arm up and they managed to shove the debris off.

Tim gasped for breath as his vision whited out. His back radiated pain pain pain to the rest of his body.

"---ou stupid, incompetent, crazy, buffoon! Answer me!" Damian's voice rang through Tim's head distantly.

Damian! Tim forced his eyes open to look at the boy. Damian was crying, and all the dust and debris on the ground was choking him.

Tim lifted a hand carefully and pried the broken mask off of Damian's face. He could see Damian trying to say something to him, but for whatever reason he couldn't understand what he was saying.

Once Damian's face was clear, Tim slipped his own mask off and set it on Damian's face.

Even through his blurry vision, he could see the shock on Damian's face. Tim tried to take a breath to speak, to reassure Damian, but he started coughing immediately.

How did Damian breath through all this? Tim focused on breathing slowly, ignoring the world around them.

Tim held his body up for so long that he couldn't feel anything anymore. But any time his eyes started to stay closed, he forced them open. He couldn't fall asleep yet…

Distantly, he heard whimpering.

"Please, please, say something. Say anything!

"..."

"What is your name?"

"..."

"They are coming, they will get us out soon."

"......"

"You… you need to survive. I don't even know your name, you have to stay with me."

Tim couldn't understand any of the noises he was hearing. He could see tears though. No, don't cry, Damian…

"They are coming… they will get us out, soon."

Even when he blinked, Tim found that the darkness wasn't going away. Distantly, he realized that was a bad sign. But as long as he held his position, wasn't it alright if he closed his eyes?

"No, no, no! Open your eyes, you fool!"

Tim felt his breath stick in his chest, and coughed. It felt wet, and he distantly felt pain in his chest as he coughed.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, I should have listened to you and I didn't. If I had listened, we wouldn't be down here."

At some point, Tim had stopped opening his eyes at all. He found that he couldn't open them at all now. His neck felt tired too… Tim let his head fall slightly, too exhausted to lift his head.

"Don't die… it's all my fault, you can't die, please…"

Tim felt his arms start to shake, and immediately focused all his attention on his body. He ignored all the noises around them, and focused on his body alone.

Damian will survive… I can get one person out alive.

Eternity seemed to pass by. Tim had no idea how long it had been when finally, a weight lifted off his back.

Tim held his position still, and when something pushed him over, he screamed. Well, he thinks he did.

Blearily he opened his eyes. Light! There was lights! But where was Damian?

Tim swing his head around trying to find him.

But something stopped him, holding his head still.

But that was okay, because he could see Damian's face.

"Dmin…" Tim murmured, smiling at him. Then frowned when he saw tears. "Not… yrfalt. My… choish."

He tried to touch Damian's face, but couldn't reach him. Distantly he was surprised, because for once he didn't see blood running down his hands.

Everything felt blurry. Tim squinted his eyes, but that only hurt his head. So he closed his eyes, for the last time.

"Gby, Damin…"

He never felt the tears that fell, or the hands that tried to save him.

He never realized how many people loved him, cared for him.

He didn't realize how many people he had saved in his life.

And worst of all, nobody else knew exactly who they lost that night.

Chapter Text

Damian was irritated that he was sent to evacuate buildings rather than fight.

Despite it being daytime, almost all of the vigilantes that called Gotham home were out and about.

Spoiler and Black Bat had been locating Poison Ivy, last Damian heard, whereas Batman and Nightwing were locating Penguin. Red Hood was in a fight earlier, but due to Nightwings insistence, Damian did not know with who or where.

Instead, the others had insisted that he help evacuate civilians out of the buildings that were being blown up.

Damian felt a scowl grow on his face, causing people around him to flinch.

Interestingly, there was one man who spoke to him, and even asked about the bombs. It irritated Damian; if the man wanted to know, he should ask someone else. Damian was not here to report to civilians.

Robin had joined this crew at around three in the afternoon. It was around five when he met the irritating man from before.

The man obviously considered Robin a child, and was constantly instructing Damian on what to do. Damian gritted his teeth and listened, only letting a few comments out.

The only reason he allowed such an indignity was because Father and Richard would be disappointed in him if he fought with the irritating man, an EMT, when there were lives at risk.

But then… the EMT got the last man out of the building. Damian decided to use the ceiling as his anchor, despite the EMT warning him against it before. The man was already out, and it would be the fastest way down.

But the ceiling collapsed and trapped him, injuring his leg. Damian was scared, because he knew that the building was going to come down at any moment.

He was able to hit his emergency beacon, but couldn't get himself out of the rubble.

Damian could hear Oracle try to call to him, asking what was going on, but when Damian tried to respond, they weren't able to hear him. Oracle was worried though, and mentioned that the building was increasingly unstable and would fall in the next hour.

Damian felt tears slide down his face in fear. Nobody could hear him. Nobody would be able to make it to him in time.

But then… that man, the EMT who he had spent the last half hour insulting and shouting at, came back.

Damian couldn't understand why the stupid man came back, and even when Damian told him to leave, he wouldn't!

When the EMT lifted Damian up after getting him out from the rubble and wrapping his leg, Damian fell unconscious.

Damian woke up to someone begging. He thought he heard his own name, but felt his Robin mask firmly in place, so he must have misheard.

"Wha-whats happening?" Damian stuttered out, hating how weak his voice sounded.

The man from before was directly above him, wearing a headlamp. Besides the light coming from that, it was completely dark.

The man explained that they were trapped under the fallen building. Damian tried to move around and check for himself, but was quickly stopped by the pain in his side, and the EMT panicking.

The man… shielded him? Why would a random civilian shield Robin? Why would this man try to protect him?

Too many questions ran through Damian's head, but he put it aside to work with the odd man to wrap his bleeding side.

The man never shifted from his spot, even when more wreckage shifted. Damian could feel things hit the desks above them, but the man never even flinched.

The pain in his side subsided slightly after they wrapped it, whether from the treatment or the painkillers he took, Damian wasn't sure.

It was only then that he realized that he could still hear his family through the comms.

The comms must have been damaged at some point, but Damian could still hear bits and pieces of their words.

He focused on trying to understand what he was hearing. Spoiler was speaking, did she get trapped by Ivy?

Red Hood was on as well, he sounded irritated. He had tried to call Red Robin, but there was still no response.

Damian was focusing so hard on listening to them speak that he missed the growing rumbling around him.

When something heavy slammed into his face mask, it startled him so badly that he screeched.

Damian gasped for breath, starting to breath faster when he realized he couldn't see anything.

He started coughing as dust swept through his mouth and nose. Damian felt fear spike through his body once more when he realized his mask must have broken.

His mask, which not only filtered the air but also had oxygen stored inside, keeping him from suffocating.

Damian jumped when he heard the EMT speak. He had forgotten that he wasn't alone.

Damian took a calming breath. It wouldn't do to panic in front of civilians: he had to be calm for the man, to show that everything would be fine.

"The last shift, it came down around the side of the desk and hit my head. The mask is broken." Damian was proud of the lack of fear in his voice, even if it was rough from the coughing and dust.

The man asked if there was something on Damian's face, which of course Damian responded to. "Yes—" but was cut off from explaining anything else by another coughing fit.

Damian could feel the dirt and dust in his throat, his body reacting instinctively by coughing, but without something to filter the air, Damian could barely breath.

He felt himself tear up from coughing so hard. His chest hurt, and his throat felt like it was on fire.

At some point, the EMT above him guided Damian and helped push off the rubble from his head.

Damian was almost embarrassed at the sheer relief he felt when he could finally see again.

He tried to speak, but there was still too much dust. Fear clogged his throat as he felt himself losing consciousness from lack of air.

But… suddenly the cracked and broken mask he had been wearing was gone. "Wha-what are you doing?" Damian's hoarse voice croaked out to the stupid man in front if him.

Damian tried to move his left arm, but it was stuck by his side. His hand felt… sticky. He flinched when he felt liquid drip onto his arm. Was this idiotic fool injured?!

Before Damian could do anything, the man had slipped his own mask off, and placed it on Damian's face.

Damian gaped in shock. Why was this fool giving up his own mask for Robin?

Even still, Damian felt better immediately when he was able to breath again.

When the suicidal fool above him started coughing, Damian felt his relief drain away.

"Why did you do that?! What were you possibly thinking to—" Damian ranted at the man, finally able to see him because of the headlamp that had been transferred with the unbroken mask.

Damian stopped his rant when he saw the fool's glazed eyes. Clearly the man wasn't listening to him.

Damian stayed quiet as he examined the EMT. The man had slowed his breathing and had stopped coughing just barely.

Now that Damian was looking at him, the EMT looked… young. Younger than Richard. He looked pale, and his blue eyes were glazed over.

Damian looked further down, and jolted in surprise. His eyes flew back up to the man's face, only just now realizing that the man had stopped speaking, and his eyes were staying closed for longer and longer.

"Please, please, say something. Say anything!" He was starting to panic. The EMT, this civilian who had come back to protect a hero, was covered in blood from the chest down.

"..."

"What is your name?" How could he not even know this man's name?! He had been working with him for hours before the collapse, but somehow had not deemed it important enough to learn this stupid man's name?

"..."

"They are coming, they will get us out soon." Damian felt more tears run down his face, but this time it wasn't out of fear for himself.

Damian desperately tried to listen to the comms. Tried to listen to something besides the slowing breathing of the man in front of him.

Why hadn't someone come for them? Why was this civilian still trapped under a building with a useless Robin?

"You… you need to survive. I don't even know your name, you have to stay with me." Please, please don't leave me. Damian looked down again, and started shaking as he suppressed sobs.

Why did this fool have to save him? Damian couldn't see anything through his tears. It didn't help though; the image of multiple spikes going through this man's body was embedded in Damian's brain.

Somehow, this man had kept it all from even touching Damian. Why was he so determined to protect Robin?! Damian couldn't understand! He had body armor, it would be better for Damian to be hit than for a defenseless citizen…

"They are coming… they will get us out, soon." Damian could feel his whole body shake from sobs. He could barely hear his family in his ear. Why hadn't anyone come to save them yet?

When his protector stopped opening his eyes, Damian found himself shouting. "No, no, no! Open your eyes, you fool!" Why was he closing his eyes?! Damian tried to move his arms, but they were still stuck. Trying harder only caused pain, and Damian could only think of how hard the man had worked to treat his wounds.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, I should have listened to you and I didn't. If I had listened, we wouldn't be down here." Why hadn't Damian just listened to him? If Damian hadn't brought the ceiling down on himself, then they both would have been safe.

Sharp coughs wracked the man's body suddenly, and Damian couldn't help but feel relieved at the sign of life.

That relief became dread when not only did the coughs stop, but his breathing slowed. And kept slowing.

When his protector's head started to dip, eyes closed and breathing almost nonexistent, Damian felt something break inside of him.

"Don't die… it's all my fault, you can't die, please…" He pleaded with the man, his shield, his protector.

"Please, please." Damian begged. "I'm so sorry, please, please." He sobbed, his whole body shuddering as he cried.

He repeated the same words over and over, begging this man.

His protector stopped moving, his head hanging and eyes closed, but never moving away from his position. Never removing his protection.

Every time the building quaked, the spikes sank down a little further.

Damian watched the blood drip down the spikes onto his body, unable to react any more than he already was.

Desperation was slowly giving way to devastation and resignation.

After what seemed like hours had passed by, long after Damian lost his voice completely, he heard voices.

His eyes burned from crying for so long and his head was fuzzy, but he forced himself to focus on the space around them anyway.

I'm Robin. I can do this. Damian repeated to himself as he tried to gather enough energy.

Damian looked at the brave man who saved him, even after Damian insulted and yelled at him. Who came back for Damian, and was somehow. Still. Shielding. Him.

"Help" Damian croaked, barely loud enough to be a whisper.

"Help." He pushed his voice out louder, desperation crawling back into him.

"Help! Help us! Help him!"

Finally, Damian saw light.

Superman was standing by him. Batman and Nightwing and Red Hood and. All of them. They were all there.

Someone slid Damian out from their cover, having detached the pole in his side from the wreckage without him noticing.

Damian's vision was blurry and spotted with black as someone removed the pole and bandaged his side.

He breathed, trying not to faint from the pain, when he heard a scream.

Damian's eyes shot open and he leaped forward without a thought, going straight to the scream.

It only took his eyes a moment to focus on the scene in front of him. His protector was trying to look around, his dazed eyes filled with panic.

Damian grabbed his face on either side, forcing the man to be still.

When the man saw Damians face though, he stopped fighting.

""Dmin…"

Damian felt tears fill his eyes once more as he heard his protector's voice.

The man relaxed, even smiling slightly at Damian's face. His eyes lost their focus, and Damian couldn't help the whimper he made at the sudden change.

"You got hurt because of me…" Damian whispered, his voice broken and devastated.

The man frowned. "Not… yrfalt. My… choish." A hand raised up, moving towards Damian's face, but didn't make it all the way. Slowly, his hand lowered.

Damian could only see the selfless man in front of him clearly. Everything else was blurry and black.

Damian watched the man squint at him before flinching slightly, so slight that Damian could barely catch it, and slowly close his eyes.

Raw, torn and exposed. That was how Damian felt. The man took one slow breath, and Damian felt something grow in his chest. Fear?

"Gby, Damin…" The selfless hero whispered, his farewell barely loud enough for Damian to hear.

The feeling in his chest grew stronger. Someone took the hero away, but Damian could still see.

See his breathing stop.

See the single tear run down his face.

See… the small smile on his face. The same one he made when he saw Damian.

The felling in his chest expanded, and s h a t t e r e d.

Chapter Text

Dick was relieved. He was so happy that they had gotten Damian out from the rubble, and that he was expected to make a full recovery.

They had thought that sending Damian to help with evacuations would keep him safe. Dick was horrified at how bad things could have been for Damian.

If it wasn't for that EMT, the doctors said he probably wouldn't have survived.

Damian was in surgery, and Dick as Nightwing was waiting outside the room for them. It had been four hours since they had gotten to the hospital.

Four hours since they got Damian out from the building. He was under the rubble for more than five.

Dick could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Damian cry. Seeing him cry last night holding onto the man that saved him? Listening to him scream as he was pulled away from the man, who died only minutes later?

Dick was devastated his brother had to go through something so horrible.

Dick's appreciation towards the man that protected Damian overcame his sorrow at the whole thing.

Selfishly, Dick was grateful that it was a stranger that had died instead of Damian. Even if Damian was upset about someone dying for him, at least he was alive to feel that way.

"Nightwing."

Dick jumped at the sudden sound. He turned his face to Batman and gave a tired smile. "Hey B. How's he doing?"

Batman stood next to him, his cowl covering most of his face, but Dick could see the exhaustion.

Batman sighed heavily and rubbed his face. "We can take him now. He is stable, and I made sure they left his mask on. We have to leave before word gets out that we are at the hospital."

If Dick wasn't feeling as exhausted as he was, he would have laughed at the image of Batman wearing scrubs and glaring at the doctors as they worked.

Instead, he nodded and stood up. Together, they went to move Damian to the Batmobile and take him home.

"Has Red Robin answered yet?" Bruce asked as he sat at the Batcomputer, going through the information from the fight.

Red Hood shook his head. He removed his helmet, allowing Bruce to see the scowl on his face. "Nope. Tha Pretenda ain't answered me or anyone else."

Bruce nodded. "Thanks Jay. Are you heading up for dinner?" Traces of hope leaked through his voice, and Bruce resisted the urge to silence them.

Jason turned his unimpressed face to Bruce. "Did you need me for somethin'?"

It had only been three days since Damian was pulled out from the rubble. Bruce wanted so badly for his children to stay close, to see them all.

Bruce knew what his son was asking for though. He sighed internally, but gave in. "Can you join us for dinner, please?" Bruce asked. It was hard to ask for things like this, to show what he was feeling, when he doesn't know if the other person will use the feeling against him.

Jason just smirked at him. "That's all ya had to do, ol' man." He tossed his jacket next to the helmet and made his way to the stairs. "See ya soon, B!"

The threat in his words made the edges of Bruce's lips turn up. He wouldn't be able to spend all night down in the Cave, but he wouldn't have anyway.

Bruce did feel concerned about Red Robin though. Red sometimes went out of contact for a few days, but usually something really big followed his return in those cases.

Well, unless it was during the day. If he was ever messaged during the day, those messages were usually ignored until night. With special exception to emergency beacons, which he was one of the fastest responders to, somehow.

Which only made this time more concerning.

Red would also come back as quickly as he could when one of the Bats were seriously hurt. So that he hadn't even messaged yet… Bruce hoped he was okay.

Bruce sighed in defeat and clicked out of the tabs. He stood up and stretched before making his way up to the manor.

It was quieter than normal due to Damian still being on heavy painkillers. It would take the boy months to fully heal from the wounds in his side and leg.

They weren't sure what entirely happened that night. But Bruce would never not be grateful to the young man that saved his boy.

The number of things going through the young man's back by the time they got there was horrifying. They had tried their best at the scene, but… there was only so much they could do.

Officially, Timothy Bings died of blood loss. Unofficially, there were multiple broken beams that had speared vital parts of the body that could have, should have, killed him. His entire back…

Nobody understood how he was still alive when they got to him, much less how he was able to shield Robin.

Bruce (as Batman) had asked the other EMT's about Timothy. Every single one of them had reacted. Devastation and sadness showed, even if only slightly, on each of their faces.

One woman even laughed bitterly when Batman told them. She shook her head, tears flowing, and just said, "Of course he did. That boy would never go out any other way." She had seemed cold, stoney, so it had surprised Batman when tears started dripping down her face.

He left the woman, Cheryl, to mourn. According to her, the boy's name was Tim, and his parents had died years before. "He was such a serious boy. But when he smiled at you, it felt like you were the best person in the world." She had said to him through her tears.

Cheryl had also mentioned that his age was wrong. "I don't know how old that boy really is, but there was no way that he was sixteen when he started here."

Bruce couldn't help his curiosity towards Tim. The boy saved his son, and that was enough to earn him Bruce's eternal gratitude. But the boy's life was so shrouded in mystery from his coworkers.

Timothy Bing's online security wasn't anything special, but there was something odd about the man (the boy?)

He looked young, for one. Younger than his birth certificate claimed he was. But also the details about his parents, grandparents, and the fact that there wasn't anyone who would be able to confirm or deny the truth.

No living family. Living by himself since he was 16. Mother died of cancer, the father in an accident.

Bruce couldn't figure out what was bugging him so much about it all, though.

With a sigh, he sent a note to Red Robin with the details he currently had.

Please take a look. Something doesn't feel right, and I would appreciate another's perspective.

He sent the message and turned off the computer. Bruce made his way to join his family at the dinner table. Hopefully Red would be able to take a look and figure things out. Bruce was well aware that while he was good with tech, Oracle and Red were even better. If there was something to find in it, Red would be the one to do it.

But in the end, Bruce was okay with not knowing.

Whatever this boy had hidden, Bruce could let it go. For the hero that saved his son, Bruce could leave the past in the past.

Dick sat with Damian as often as he could.

It had been four days since the chaos, and Damian had yet to wake. Even though it was expected, Dick wished that Damian would wake up and talk to them, just so that Dick could know for sure that he was okay. But they wouldn't be taking Damian out of the medically induced coma for another three days, minimum.

Everyone had sat with Damian at some point since the incident, everyone but Red Robin.

Dick couldn't help but feel upset when he thought about that, even if Red wasn't even here. But was whatever Red working on really more important than Damian?

Dick curled up in the chair, watching the machines reflect Damian's heartbeat on the screens.

Seven days after the incident, the day Damian was being brought out of the coma, Dick refused to leave Damian's side the entire day.

He wasn't chancing Damian possibly waking up while he was gone. It was as much for Damian's sake as his own.

Damian did wake up that day, but he wasn't quite lucid. Dick cried, happy tears, when his little brother woke up, but Damian kept asking about a him and asking where he was.

Dick calmed Damian down, and Damian fell back asleep.

As Damian's eyes finally closed and his breathing steadied, Dick brought a hand to his brother's face and traced the wet streaks there.

When was the last time Damian had openly worried about another person?

Why did it have to be for someone who didn't make it that Damian openly worried?

Dick didn't know how badly it would hurt Damian. But he would be there for his little brother through it all.

At that thought, he reached forward and gently squeezed Damian's hand. Damian didn't stir, still asleep and exhausted from the injuries and drugs.

Dick curled up in the chair next to the bed, keeping his connection with his brother.

He didn't want Damian to wake up alone. Dick was tired and falling asleep in the chair, but he wouldn't leave Damian alone. Batman was working in the Cave, and Jason had stayed with Damian the entire day before.

Cass was flying to Gotham but wasn't there yet. Barbara was busy working, qnr it would be too much trouble for her to have to travel to the Manor with her wheelchair.

Those were the only people Dick could think of that had a good relationship with Damian, besides Red Robin.

Red Robin got along with Damian, to a degree.

"I haven't heard from Red in a while. Did he ever get back to you about Timothy Bing?" Jason asked Bruce as he took his costume off.

Bruce shook his head, frowning. "No, he never responded." What was even stranger was that he hadn't said anything concerning Damian being injured… "It's been almost three weeks. Why hasn't he come by yet?" Bruce muttered, ignoring the flash of irritation that came at the thought.

Damian had been healing well. But the psychological effects…

Jason frowned. "Maybe Lil' Red got caught up in something. What was he working on before this?"

Bruce shook his head, but obligingly clicked through mission reports anyway. "Red Robin doesn't usually inform us of his missions unless they concern us. Which, in his mind, is rare." Bruce scowled.

Jason muffled a laugh at that. "Wait a sec, that's an option?" Only to repress another laugh at Bruce's irritated look.

Soon enough though, his face became serious. "How's the Brat doing?"

Bruce's scowl softened. "Damian is not yet able to walk, but has been able to remain conscious for a couple hours at a time. He is expected to fully recover, even if it takes a while." Sorrow was etched into his face as he turned away from Jason.

Bruce took a breath before continuing. "He frequently has nightmares… he wakes up, sobbing, asking to see Timothy." Bruce's voice cracked as he spoke, and his hand reached up to wipe away the stray tears that slid down his face.

Jason was quiet. And then, "Does he know?" The question was asked softly.

Bruce shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know if he remembers. I don't know what he remembers." His voice was rough and scratchy. He wished that his son hadn't gone through something like this.

It was another week before Damian was somewhat back to normal. Well, in a way. Physically he was stuck in bed. Emotionally…

Dick had spent as much time as he could with his little brother, trying to lift his spirits and get him to talk more.

Damian was tired, yes, but also so much quieter. He seemed almost frail, in a way, and it devastated Dick.

"Where is Red Robin?" He asked Dick at one point, staring at his hands.

Dick winced. "Red hasn't gotten back yet, Baby Bird." The lack of contact was aggravating. Red had better have a good reason for not being here.

Damian just watched him for a moment before nodding. "I understand…" He whispered hollowly.

Dick grabbed his hand. "I'm sure he'll visit when he's able to." Dick would drag him here himself if needed.

Damian nodded again.

Dick spent the rest of the night watching movies with Damian, falling asleep in the bed with him.

The next morning, Dick woke up to muffled sobs.

"Damian…?" Dick leaned forward to try to look at his brother.

Damian was sitting up slightly, holding a device in his hand. It was playing a video. Dick heard static and coughing from it, but froze when he heard Damian's voice coming from it.

"Why did you do that?! What were you possibly thinking to—"

Gently, Dick tugged it away from Damian, whose tears flowed stronger.

"He-he saved me." Damian croaked out, looking down at his hands, but unable to see through the tears.

Dick grabbed his hands and held them tight. "Baby Bird, he chose to save you. And I am so, so grateful that he did that."

After a few minutes of hushed crying, Dick reached over to the device, curious. "What's this, Dami? Where did you get this video?" The camera in his lens had been broken in the collapse. Where did he get this one?

Damian reached to take the device back, still looking down. "Father wouldn't let me watch the recordings of my patrol, so I installed another camera into my armor." His voice, soft.

Dick wanted to laugh, and cry. Laugh, because of course Damian was upset Bruce wouldn't let him overanalyze his patrol. Cry, because of course Damian wasn't watching just any video. He was watching the recording of a tragedy.

Instead, Dick pulled Damian into a careful hug. As tight as he could without hurting his brother. "Did you already watch it all?" Dick hoarsely asked. Damian mumbled a no into his chest.

Damian shifted back and looked at Dick’s face for the first time that morning. “I want to watch it all. I want to see-” Big, clear, blue eyes teared up again.

Dick lifted a hand up to brush Damian’s hair back. And then left it on his head, gently messing with Damian’s hair. Eventually he spoke. “Do you want to watch it now? We can wait for you to heal a bit more.” The whisper barely left Dick’s mouth when Damian reached out to the device, which had fallen back on the bed at some point, and clicked play.

Dick huffed, but leaned to slide next to Damian to watch.

Damian messed with the screen with shaking hands, only setting it into Dick’s outstretched hand when it showed before the collapse. Dick held it up with one hand and grabbed Damian’s trembling hand with his other hand.

He didn’t say anything when Damian was crushed by the ceiling collapsing. Instead, he started gently rubbing the boy’s knuckles.

He held his breath when the EMT slid him under a desk before joining him, the building groaning louder and louder before collapsing over them.

The noise seemed to last forever. The only thing that the camera showed was Timothy and the desk above them, his eyes closed in concentration as he held the desk steady, shaking and flinching with each thud.

Dick jumped when the desk above the camera cracked, a piece of wood spearing through it. But Timothy looked terrified as he shifted to shield Damian’s body with his own.

Eventually the wreckage settled somewhat. Dick could feel Damian shaking in the bed and shifted his arm to go around his shoulders while still holding his hand. He squeezed Damian reassuringly.

Timothy began shifting, grunting in pain occasionally. When he stopped shifting he was still directly above Damian.

Dick took deep breaths when Timothy started trying to wake Damian. But Damian wasn’t answering.

"Damian. Damian, please. I need you to wake up. Please."

Dick flinched, suddenly on wide alert.

Did Timothy just call him Damian?

But Damian finally woke up, and Timothy explained what had happened. Dick felt Damian flinch occasionally and just held his hand tighter.

They bandaged his leg. They bandaged his side.

Timothy and Damian worked together to free Damian’s left side. Timothy was pale, his eyes glazing over occasionally.

The wreckage shifted again, and something hit Damian’s face. Dick had to focus on his breathing in order to quell the emotions he felt.

Timothy gave Damian his mask. Leaving himself maskless.

Dick listened to Damian beg the man, the boy in front of him, to speak. Dick finally lost the battle with his tears as the boy stopped opening his eyes and Damian panicked in the recording.

When Damian started apologizing in the recording, and sobbed in the present beside him, Dick couldn’t hold back. “Damian, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault, alright? We love you so, so much, I love you so much. You’re my baby brother, you worked so hard and did so good Dami. You saved so many people and this wasn’t your fault.” He babbled to his baby brother.

Pleading from the recording was drowned out by Dick’s words and tears. He had to make sure Damian knew. Damian had to understand it wasn’t his fault.

After some time, Dick turned back to the screen. He held Damian in a hug still, keeping him from seeing the video.

Even though he was prepared, it still made him flinch when he saw the spikes going through Timothy’s back and the blood. Oh gosh, the amount of blood. It stood starkly against the deathly pale pallor of Timothy’s face.

And finally, finally, they were rescued.

Dick looked away when they pulled Timothy out. He didn’t want to see the injuries again.

The screams of pain made him shut his eyes and refocus on Damian, breathing, alive in his arms.

Dick finally turned back to the screen when he heard his own voice from it, when Damian had pulled away to go to Timothy.

At the time, Dick had been too far to hear what Timothy’s final words were. But in the recording, he was able to hear.

Timothy looked at peace when he died. Looked almost happy. The tear running down his face was the only indication otherwise.

Dick was frozen. It was only when the recording played Damian’s screams that he finally moved. He quickly smacked the screen, trying to pause it or turn it off.

After that, he tossed the device and grabbed ahold of his still-bawling brother.

“You did so good Damian. I am so proud of you. I am so, so glad you survived.” Dick croaked.

“I didn’t save him, did I? He’s dead. He’s dead because he came back to save me.”

“He chose to do that. He chose to save you. It isn’t your fault.”

“I don’t know who he is. I don’t know him. I insulted him over and over, he thought I hated him. He saved someone who hated him.”

Dick wished he could get ahold of his emotions. The tears that were flowing down his own face were unrelenting. It hurt. It hurt that Damian had been hurt so bad by this, and there was nothing that he could do. Dick had never seen Damian cry so hard before, but he couldn’t fix it and make it better. Damian was sobbing in his arms, hurting physically and emotionally, and Dick couldn’t. Do. Anything.

In another part of the house, Jason was scowling at his comms. He had spent the morning trying to get into contact with Red Robin, but he hadn’t responded.

It had been a month, and Red still hadn’t gotten back to them. Jason was concerned.

Jason had been working through a lot recently. He had wanted to try to work with Red more, before the accident, to get closer to him and try to apologize for all the crap he’s put him through.

When Red didn’t show up the first couple weeks, Jason had left message after message, shouting and swearing into the comm because out of all the times to stop talking to them Red had chosen the worst time.

He really hoped that Red hadn’t actually had a chance to listen to those messages yet.

Honestly though, while most of his irritation about Red’s disappearance was for Damian’s sake, there was a portion of it that recently transferred from that to the lack of information on Timothy Bing. Red would be able to get it, he always did, but Babs and Bruce weren’t able to figure it out.

And that hadn’t mattered to Jason much at first. But then some weird stuff had been happening in Crime Alley.

People had begun hanging up shrouds.

Black and gray. Black and red. Black and orange. Similar patterns on the fabric that was hung up in dozens of houses and painted in alleys.

But nobody would tell Jason what it was. As himself or as Red Hood.

He originally thought it was about the bombs and building collapses. It had started around then, he thought.

But then one of the older working girls said something to him.

”It’s cuz he is gone.”

The helmet had masked his confused face, but she must have felt it, because she laughed wetly before answering the unasked question.

”Timmy. He was in the building, ya know. ‘E was… he was a good person. He was so, so good, Hood.”

Hood had just watched in stunned shock as a tear went down her face before she turned away and walked away from him.

She had been sad. She cried. Jason had never seen her cry before. Never.

Who was the kid that died, who was he that so many people mourned him?

But Jason couldn’t find anything, Bruce and Babs couldn’t figure it out, and Red Robin still hadn’t answered.

“Bruce.”

Bruce turned to face his oldest son. Dick walked into the Cave still wearing his pajamas and his eyes red and puffy. In his hands he was holding some kind of device, smaller than an ipad but similar looking. The screen was on.

“Dick, are you doing okay?” Bruce stood up and reached over to his son.

But Dick shook his hand off, instead extending the device to him. Bruce gently took the device while watching Dick carefully.

Dick shook his head and took a ragged breath. “Bru-Bruce.” He took another slow breath. “Dad. Damian had a camera in his lens, and we were able to see what happened that night.”

Bruce felt his heart break at his words. His sons shouldn’t have to relive that night. Dick looked awful and sounded absolutely wrecked. “I’m sorry, chum.” Bruce said, pulling Dick into a side hug.

But Dick shook his head again. “No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Then he choked out a laugh, covering his eyes with his hands and groaning. “No, I mean, it was horrible, but Dad.” Dick turned to look Bruce in the eye. “Bruce. Timothy called Damian by his name.”

At Bruce’s confused look, Dick repeated his words. “Timothy. A civilian. called Damian. By. His. Name.”

Bruce felt his body freeze. “What?”

Dick nodded frantically. “He calls him by his name, twice. Maybe three times. Why does he know Damian’s name?” Dick gestured to the device in Bruce’s hands.

Bruce looked closely at his oldest son. Greasy hair, puffy eyes, ruffled clothes, dark circles under his eyes. “Go rest. Whatever the reason is, it’ll be okay. Go get some rest.”

Dick nodded, his eyes sliding closed as he swayed.

Bruce reached over to grab onto his arm and guide him to bed.

Ding Dong

They jumped at the sudden sound of the doorbell.

Bruce felt confusion fall over his face. Very few people rang their doorbell. Behind the mask, most people came to the Cave. Civilian friends usually just knocked.

So who was at the door?

A quick race up the stairs between Bruce and Dick (Bruce won, but only because he fought dirty) brought them into the foyer just in time to watch as Alfred walked into the room.

Bruce could see the slight lines of confusion on the older man’s face as well. So that took out most options.

He and Dick watched Alfred unlock the door, carefully holding themselves ready to attack if needed.

“Ah, hello Miss Fox. We were not expecting you to visit today.” Alfred said, pointedly looking at Bruce and Dick. They embarrassedly untensed and walked over as Alfred invited the girl in.

Tamara Fox. Employee of Wayne Enterprises. Daughter of Lucius Fox, both of whom were unaware of the Wayne’s identities as Bats.

Tamara walked in behind Alfred holding a box. She wore professional casual clothing, a plain black pair of slacks paired with a dark, loose blouse and short, black heels. Her face was pale, but she refused to hand over the box when Dick offered to take it.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Tamara said seriously. She stood tall, a picture of professionalism. But the slight redness of her eyes spoke volumes.

Bruce felt concern rise.

Alfred just nodded. “Of course. Let us sit down before we discuss the issue.” He led them to the sitting room, where Dick and Bruce sat, before turning to leave.

“Wait.” Tamara reached out to stop the butler. “Wait. This… This might be something you should be here for.” She glanced at Bruce and Dick and sighed. She walked to the couch across from them and glanced at the butler.

Alfred hesitated before nodding. He stood at the door rather than join them on the couches.

Dick broke the silence first. “So Tamara, what did you need to speak with us about?” He gave her a sharp smile.

Tamara closed her eyes. After a moment, she spoke. “I know you guys are the Bat’s. That isn’t what I am here for,” She added when Bruce and Dick sharply leaned forward. Her glare pierced them until they finally leaned back again.

“I’m here about Red Robin. Or rather, I’m here because-” she breathed out sharply, blinking quickly. Dick had leaned forward again, but her gaze became piercing again until he leaned back.

After a moment, Tamara smiled and closed her eyes. “I’m here to deliver Red’s last letters.”

They all froze.

Tamara opened her eyes briefly to glance at them, and laughed. “Oh, you poor fools. You have no idea.” Her laugh came out harsh. “Red Robin. Red. He gave this to me to give to you.” The bitter smile came back. “He wanted me to give it to you if he couldn’t. If he…” She looked down at her lap. “If he died.” The words came out as a whisper.

Dick was frozen at Bruce’s side. Bruce spoke first. “He’s dead?”

Tamara laughed again. Harsh. Bitter. She stood next to Alfred at the door. “Red, Tim, he’s been gone for a month. He wanted me to wait a month, just in case. Just in case he survived.” She turned to look back at them. “I knew he was gone. I knew this was real. But… but some part of me hoped he would reappear to tell me it was fake.” Her voice trembled, and Bruce saw tears in her eyes before she turned back to the door.

“It wasn’t fake.” Were her last words before she walked out.

None of them could move as they heard the click of her heels as she walked away.

Tam shut the massive door behind her. She walked back to her car and started it before stopping. She rested her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She let herself take a moment and feel.

It was over half an hour later that Tam was able to slow the sobs. That she was able to drive.

She stopped at a cemetery and went to sit in front of one of the graves. She carefully set her gift up. Ten minutes later, she stepped back to look at it.

It was beautiful.

She felt her legs give out from under her, and she collapsed in front of Tim’s grave. “Hey Tim.” She whispered. “Do you remember when we took all these photos?”

“Thanks for saving me. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for—”

“.....”

“Thank you for being my friend. We had so much fun, and I’m so glad that we got to meet.”

She reached out to touch the photos set up around her. Her and Tim, playing games, selfies, pictures of him with his other friends. Pictures of them celebrating a finished project.

“You gave me these photos, and at the time I remember I thought it was a little silly because we were always doing this stuff. Why did I need a picture when it was happening in front of me?”

Tam shook her head, covering her eyes, wiping the tears away. She couldn’t ruin the photos after all.

“But now? I wish I had more of these. Where are my photos now, Tim? I need you to give me more, Tim. There are so many things that we wanted to do. You said you wanted me to feel what it was to fly. I don’t know if I can do that without you though.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I’m so mad at you. I want you to come here so that I can punch you.”

“Thanks Red, for being so amazing. Thank you for everything. You are worth the world. You mean the world. To so many people.”

Tam stood up. Grabbed her purse. Took a final look at the photos strewn in front of the headstone.

“Goodbye, Tim.”