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There was rarely a clear night in Gotham and this one did not disappoint.
Tim, through traveling for Wayne Enterprises or as Robin or Red Robin, had been to many major metropolitan areas but none could match his home. Sure he had grown up in Bristol where his nearest neighbor was miles away and the air was mostly clear but he had spent many of his nights in the miasma of smog and fear gas and joker toxin that made up the musk of Gotham. It was a smell that lingered on his skin, a perfume that had burned itself into every iota of him but it was home. It was his lifeblood.
And it was only appropriate that he’d bleed out on the rooftops he loved so much.
It wasn’t a pleasant experience but he couldn’t deny that the view was magnificent.
“I need you to hang on Red,” Babs ordered, her voice thick with emotion but firm and professional over the comms. He was just glad she was operating as Oracle and not Batgirl tonight - it would suck to die without anyone knowing. At least now someone could break the news gently.
“It’s okay O,” Tim muttered back, letting his eyes sink to half-mast. He was so tired and his head was pounding but he didn’t want to shut them. Gotham was beautiful tonight - picture perfect actually. The streetlights were refracting in the fog to form an oil-slick aurora across the crumbling buildings of Old Gotham. He wished he had his camera.
Something crunched and broke on the other end of the comm and Tim grimaced. He hoped Barbara didn’t smash anything important on his account. “Just hold out another couple minutes Red, they’re coming. And put pressure on it!”
Tim forcefully pulled his eyes away from the skyline to look down at the multiple leaking holes in his abdomen and snorted painfully. “Too many. Won’t do any good.”
“Try,” she insisted, voice cracking at the end. “That’s an order Red.”
“Never been good at following directions,” Tim teased back. It was kinder than saying he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore or telling her that he was too frozen to move or let her know that the pain was gone. Babs knew - Oracle knew everything - but she had to try. Just like Tim had to refuse. “Stop watching the cameras, okay? You shouldn’t have to see.”
“No,” Barbara seethed. “I’m going to patch you into the mainline just-,”
“Don’t,” Tim pleaded, finally letting his eyes slip closed for a second before he forced them back open. The oil-slick fog was even more beautiful with his sight blurred - a starburst across his vision. “I have… contingencies. Recordings. I don’t want them to hear it happen.”
“That’s not fair,” Babs said. “It’s not fair Tim and you know it. They deserve… they…”
First names were a bad sign. Their comms were secure but Oracle never called them anything but their moniker in the field. Never deviated from utter professionalism. Tim knew he was toast but this was the conformation he didn’t want and he could feel warm tears well in his eyes.
He didn’t let them fall. This wasn’t a time for mourning - that would come later.
“It’s selfish,” he agreed, voice thin. It felt harder to catch his breath now and he was glad he’d collapsed at least half sitting up because he knew it would be way worse if he was on his back. “I know. They deserve to say goodbye but I’d rather be accused of being selfish at the end than let Bruce be witness to another Robin dying.” He could practically feel Babs flinch at that and he’d feel bad about it but Tim had spent his entire life living for others. He could afford to live for himself for a few minutes. “Do they know how bad…?”
Babs sniffled, facade finally down. “No,” she said. “I’ve given them the basic injury report only but they’re coming, Tim, all of them.”
“The one time we’re all in the same city and actually getting along, huh?” He snickered. “And I have to go and ruin it. At least no one will have to buy a special plane ticket for the funeral.”
The comm was silent. Tim guessed Barbara didn’t appreciate his gallows humor. Jason would though, he probably would have made the joke himself. Dick would have given him a pity laugh and Damian would have scoffed because laughing at Tim’s jokes was beneath him.
Bruce wouldn’t laugh or joke or say anything. But he would be warm and sturdy and safe.
Tim was selfish. He wished they were here.
“The password to my laptop is in the folder under the loose floorboard in my bedroom at the Nest,” Tim muttered. “The folder has a list of my contingencies and my will. The computer has all of my documents and some videos and things. Can you…?”
“Of course,” Babs said softly. “Anything Tim.”
Good. That was good. He could trust her to make sure everything was taken care of. Tim tipped his head back to look at the cloud-covered sky for a moment before he lost the energy and let his chin tip towards his chest. He was so tired but he had to know - he had to satiate the constant fear and imposter syndrome that he had fought to get over his whole life: “Did I do good?”
“You did amazing,” Barbara soothed, her voice a warm caress that wrapped around him. “You accomplished things even Batman couldn’t. You’ve helped so many people Tim.” His lips pulled up a little. It was a little hard to swallow but he decided to let himself believe her. He did good. He helped people. He was an asset to his family. “You’re more than an asset,” opps, guess he said that last bit out loud, “we love you. You’re the best brother any of us could ask for. The best son.”
Tim hummed, his tongue felt thick in his mouth and his lips felt numb. It took every bit of energy he had left to tip his head back to rest on the wall behind him. He wanted to look at Gotham, not the dirty roof or the puddle of blood that was spreading across the concrete.
“I’m sorry I’m not there,” Babs said, so silent Tim nearly missed it. A wish not meant for Tim’s ears maybe. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Not alone,” he wheezed, voice thin. “With you.”
In the distance he could hear the distinctive roar of one of the Batmobiles and the heavy revving of motorcycle engines. It was a cacophony that would have many of Gotham’s citizens cursing the noise and others scurrying away to their hidey-holes. To Tim it could only ever be one of the safest sounds in the world - a lullaby to fall asleep to.
It was rarely a clear night in Gotham but, tonight, there was a break in the clouds that allowed just a little moonlight through. It turned the smog darkly beautiful and set off a new rainbow of dancing colors and deepened the shadows that permeated the city and threw the buildings in a stark contrast.
It was the most stunning thing Tim Drake had ever seen.