Chapter Text
Tim had fallen asleep with two perfectly normal older brothers using him as a teddy bear as they watched Tangled. Well, maybe perfectly normal was a bit of a stretch. Most perfectly normal people didn’t run around Gotham (and Bludhaven) after dark in skin tight costumes to punch criminals. So, perfectly normal for people who ran around Gotham (and Bludhaven) after dark in skin tight costumes to punch criminals.
It shouldn’t be hard for one to see why Tim was not expecting to wake up in shackles.
Not that it was particularly unusual in his line of work, but he usually didn’t see his brothers standing unhindered in front of him, arms crossed.
“Uh, guys? Could you get me out of these? We should probably go.” Everything was a bit too foggy for Tim’s liking, and he couldn’t focus on Jason and Dick as much as he would like.
“No, Tim. This has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” Tim couldn’t quite track Dick moving, but he was closer than before, close enough for Tim to see the look in his eyes. It was unfamiliar, cold and icy. There was no glimmer of laughter, of love.
Tim blinked slowly. “What? Dick -”
“Shut up,” Dick snapped, his teeth bared in a twisted mockery of his usual grin. “You never stop talking, do you? Always going on and on…”
“Now, now, Dickie. Give the Replacement some space. We got plenty of time.” Jason stepped forward, a hand on Dick’s shoulder. He was taller than Tim, looking down at him with a sneer. It was unsettling in a way Tim wasn’t used to. “And we’re gonna use all of it.”
“Jason, what are you guys -” Tim’s head whipped to the side, leaving a dull sting. Dick shook out his hand.
“The brat’s got bony cheeks, don’t he?” Jason snorted lightly, like Dick hadn’t just hit Tim. Dick had never hit him before. Not like this.
Tim pulled at his restraints, but he found no give. They were almost tight enough to cut off blood circulation, placed just so he couldn’t wriggle free. A Robin’s handiwork for a Robin. While Dick laughed his agreement, Tim took a moment to observe the room. Roughly hewn brick on the wall opposite of him, and the rest were metal.
That should tell him something. But it didn’t. The answer kept dancing out of reach, just on the edge of knowing. His head fell back to thud against the wall. The sound reverberated through his skull like an overzealous drummer was going wild in his head. He just hoped this wouldn’t last too long.
“‘Why are you doing this?’ you’re probably thinking.” Jason snapped his fingers in front of Tim’s face, snickering when he flinched back and hit his head. “Well, if you’re not, you’re dumber than I thought. To put it in layman’s terms -”
“You’re insufferable. We’ve had to put up with you for far too long, Timothy. All your whining, your disobedience, your incessant clinginess. Every minute I tolerated you was another nerve chipped to dust.” Dick’s words were cold. When he grabbed Tim’s chin, jerking it down to face them, it was indifferent. This wasn’t even revenge to him. It was a punishment.
Tim didn’t understand. They were his brothers. Just last week Jason had saved his ass when he’d gotten ambushed and drove him to a safehouse to patch him up. His hands had been gentle even though Tim knew he hated stitches, all the while lecturing him. He had told Tim he cared.
Hardly two days ago Dick had been dragging him from the gym to go shopping for a new camera when Tim’s old one broke. He had laughed nearly the whole time, and he’d made Tim laugh too. He had spun him around with hands on his waist like Tim was just a kid, smiling brightly.
And now Dick had backhanded him like Tim was still a child and had deserved it. Jason was laughing at his expense, and now he was hearing all about his failures.
Dick had promised that Tim was welcome into their family, all those years ago. He had promised that it was okay to ask for help, to ask for affection.
And here he was, throwing it in Tim’s face.
“I -”
“For fuck’s sake, shut up.” Jason’s fist slammed into his jaw, driving a breathless cry more out of surprise than anything.
Jason, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly so much of a surprise.
Sure, it was shocking. Tim hadn’t expected it, per se, but it made more sense than Dick. Jason had hated him from the start. And though he had - seemingly - gotten over it by the time Tim had shed Robin, Tim had always been wary. Not as much as he should’ve, admittedly.
Tim had started to trust Jason. He did trust Jason, and even now he was hoping it was all some sort of cruel joke that he would yell at them for but in the end wouldn’t ignore them. Because they were family.
He half wondered where Damian was - it wasn’t like him to miss a beat-Tim-up fest, and out of all his siblings, Damian would surprise him the least. He’d already made his thoughts clear. Instead, it was only the brothers Tim would never see it coming from.
He still didn’t understand.
“Aw, look at him, Jay. That adorable little confused face because he’s too brain dead to get it. And they called him the smart Robin. Wanna hear a secret?” Dick leaned closed, a small smile filled with malevolence. “You were never really Robin.”
That hit Tim harder than it should have. He knew that already, on some level. He had always really been a replacement for Jason. Never living up to the title, always falling short of his predecessors. There had simply been no one else to fill the role, so Tim was there.
He had never been worthy.
"Oh, he knows it too, don’t ya, Replacement?” Jason crowed, pushing past Dick to loom over Tim. Tim shrank back. “You know you never were part of the family. Just convenient. Barely even that, really. I spent half my patrols saving your ass ‘cause ya couldn’t watch yourself. Now I won’t have to.”
Jason grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head forward before shoving it back hard enough that Tim couldn’t tell if he had a concussion or not. He strangled a yelp, more out of the sheer betrayal, the fact that he had thought Jason would keep him safe, than the pain. He’d had worse at Jason’s hands
He just hoped this wouldn’t be a repeat.
“Already screaming? Easier than I thought. You’ve always been disappointing, though, Tim.” Dick had a dagger now, absently tossing it in a flip and catching it neatly. Tim couldn’t quite track the movement, only a spiral of glinting gray.
“Can’t complain.” Jason laughed, harsh and mocking. “I think we’ve earned our fun, don’t you?”
“For dealing with him for so long? Certainly.”
Tim shouted when the dagger buried into his shoulder. Dick hadn’t even moved but his wrist. Perfect form. Blood spread through the blue of his t-shirt - Nightwing blue that Dick had gotten him, smug when he saw his symbol on his brother - staining the fabric.
Tim took a few controlled breaths, but he couldn’t pull his emotions back. Everything was scattered, like someone had taken the contents of his brain and dumped it on the floor. Then kicked it around for good measure. He couldn’t steady himself, could pull himself away to analyze the situation logically. He could only feel betrayal.
“Couldn’t help myself.” Dick smirked, cold eyes drawn to the blade lodged in Tim.
“Nice throw.”
“Thanks. I should probably grab it. We’ll definitely need it for later.” Dick raised his eyebrows suggestively, and he had done that just before Tim went to sleep when Tim asked him what he thought of Flynn Ryder.
Tim suddenly realized his chances of bleeding out were much greater if Dick took that dagger. “No!”
“Aw, look at the little birdie,” Jason leered, his nose inches from Tim. Tim tried not to think of the last time Jason looked at him like that, “still so attached he wants to keep the dagger just ‘cause his ‘brother’ threw it. Lemme tell ya somethin’, Replacement -”
Dick pushed him aside and silenced him with a look. Jason grinned and gave him a small, mocking bow. It was so much like the Jason Tim knew. Playful and taunting and sarcastic. Not this.
“We never loved you. It was a lie, Tim. We were counting down the days to do this.” At his last word, Dick took the handle of the dagger and twisted.
Tim choked down a yelp, gritting his teeth even as tears spilled from his eyes. Dick smirked and wiped one from his face, nail dragging along his cheek, then pulled the blade from him with one yank.
Tim looked down as more blood poured from the open wound. Fucking splendid. He couldn’t even use his hand to stem it. Jason put his hands under the wound, watching as blood flowed into his cupped palms.
Tim could only watch in horror as Dick dipped a finger in the pool and examined the red disinterestedly. And then put it in his mouth. When he pulled his hand back, his skin was clean. His lips were stained red.
Dick’s lips twitched upwards in a mockery of a smile. “To memorialize the occasion. It’s not every day I get to strike my ‘little brother’.”
“What the fuck,” Tim whispered, reeling from the fact that Dick had just tasted his blood.
‘Little brother’. It was all fake. It was all a show. Just a nuisance that they’d tolerated just long enough to have some fun with it.
Jason curled his lip, looking only slightly unnerved. “Must you?”
“I must.” Dick smiled, sticking his index and middle fingers in the blood and raising them to Tim’s face. Tim flinched, trying to escape, but he couldn’t press back any farther. Blood was smeared on his cheek, still warm and sticky.
Tim winced at the feeling. He was still crying a bit, silent, but tears ran down his face to mingle with the blood.
“We’re gonna have fun.” Jason grinned, splattering Tim with scarlet when he shook out his hands, then wiped them on his jeans.
Dick nodded with a smirk, and pulled out a familiar weapon. The air crackled with electricity. “I have some ideas.”
Tim screamed. Loud. That setting was high, too high. Higher than Dick used on the goddamn criminals. He writhed in his bonds until it wore off a moment later, panting.
Jason was grinning widely. He looked like he did yesterday when Tim pulled out photos of Dick’s Discowing costume, and they’d taken turns tearing it verbally apart. Dick had rolled his eyes and sat back like he was superior somehow.
“That was a hell of an idea, Dickie. Do it again.”
Dick obliged. Tim screamed until his throat felt raw. He could hear them laughing like he made a joke. Or maybe he was the joke.
When it was over, Tim couldn’t tell if it had been minutes or hours. Everything was sore, and he was still twitching in the aftershock. Jason was still laughing. Dick lifted his chin with the bloodied blade of his dagger. Tim just looked up at him.
He wanted to go home. He wanted to bury himself in a blanket with brothers on all sides. But his brothers were in front of him, stained with his blood.
He wanted to know what he did wrong. What was so terrible about him that drove them to this? What did he say, what did he do? What couldn’t he do right?
Why did his family always turn on him?
No matter how he tried to impress, to satisfy, to obey, it always ended like this. Sharp words and anger and betrayal and failure. Tim’s failure, because he was never enough. First the Drakes, now the Waynes. It didn’t make a difference how hard he worked to make his family love him, to make him worth it.
To belong somewhere.
Tim didn’t belong anywhere, now.
“Look at him cry.” Cold metal kissed his throat. Jason grinned down at him, hand closed around the crowbar. “We’ve barely even started.”
By the time Jason was done, Tim couldn’t even breathe without pain. He was bruised and beaten and feeling rather faint. Jason swung once more at his ribs before dropping the crowbar with a clang and a smug look. Tim didn’t even have enough air left in his lungs to wheeze.
“That was pretty therapeutic, if I do say so myself.”
Jason’s eyes gleamed with enjoyment. Tim closed his eyes.
The next thing to touch him was smooth. Tim opened his eyes to see the gloved fingers pulling back the torn fabric around his stab wound, barely brushing him. Dick didn’t even bother looking him in the eye. When he spoke, it was to Jason.
“Think this’ll get infected?”
“If it gets the chance, you mean.”
Dick chuckled softly in response, running his finger around the edge of the wound, lightly enough not to disturb anything. It still hurt. He still didn’t look at Tim’s face.”
It was like he didn’t care. In a way, it was worse than Jason’s pleasure in his pain.
Dick had always cared. Even when Tim had barely been Robin and Dick was still grieving, he cared if he got hurt or Bruce was being too cruel to him. He had always given Tim a bright smile, a soft hand on the shoulder. He’d always been there.
And now it was like Tim couldn’t matter less. All Dick was interested in was the pain he could inspire.
Tim always knew his usefulness would run out eventually. He had just hoped he would still be wanted.
“At least he’s finally quiet. Aren’t ya, Replacement?”
Jason grabbed his chin roughly, yanking it up and away from Dick. Dick straightened and leaned against the wall, watching impassively.
Tim couldn’t force a sound past his lips. Jason grinned, feral. “We made the right choice pickin’ this one, Dick.”
“Jason,” Dick said lowly, warningly. Tim looked between them with wide eyes.
“Oh, fuck right off. Don’t ruin my good time.” Jason rolled his eyes. “He’s such a goody two shoes, right, Replacement?”
Tim just wanted Jason to hug him and mean it. He wanted to be safe. Tim didn’t usually get what he wanted.
“Aw, c’mon, baby bird. Play along. You’re usually so fun to play with. The only thing you’re good for, really.” Jason grinned, twisting Tim’s head almost painfully to the side until he was gasping.
His voice dropped a few notes. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this. Can you imagine it? Every day, seeing the face of a brat you hate. The only time you can lash out is when you let yourself be taken over by something that isn't you. It doesn’t have the same flavor of doing it all by yourself. And now I have the chance. Wouldn’t you be excited?”
Tim tried to not hyperventilate. He should be strong. He was Red Robin. He dealt with these things all the time.
But they were his brothers, and they were hurting him.
Jason’s fist smashed into his face. Tim forgot sometimes how much of a punch he packed. His head smashed across the wall, fire spreading across his cheek. “Ah, that’s the good stuff.”
“I don’t know how you stand to touch him. It makes my skin crawl. Always does. Lucky I’m such a great actor.” Dick flashed the brilliant smile Tim had gotten used to over the years. It wasn’t nearly so nice now.
“Of course.” Jason punched Tim again, in the jaw this time. Tim cried out as he did it again and again until Tim’s nose was pouring blood and he definitely had a concussion. “It’s the satisfaction of it.”
The whole time, Jason was grinning like the cat that caught the canary.
Tim was wheezing through his nose when Jason pulled away, wiping the blood off his hands on Tim’s shirt. “Sure ya don’t wanna give it a go?”
Dick wrinkled his nose. “I am. I’ve had more than enough of that.”
It was a lie. All of it was a lie.
All the late nights, the crying and the nightmares and the promises to do better. The crowded beds, the laughter and the warmth and the affection. Every time Dick called him his little brother, every apology Jason had given, every ‘I love you’. None of it had been real.
Tim was as much of an outsider as he had been when he was nine, taking pictures as they flew by. Out of his reach. A distant hero he admired from afar.
Only now it was personal.
Tim had gotten his chance, and he fucked it up. Just like he always did.
“Aw, come on. Take a turn.”
Dick rolled his eyes, a smile splitting his face.
“Don’t wanna do it alone, huh, Jaybird?”
“Got me. It’s not nearly as fun when it’s just me. I can watch.”
“Such a voyeur.” Dick snorted. “Fine. Can I borrow your kris?”
Jason tossed it at him. Dick didn’t even flinch as he caught it, his grip sure around the handle. He turned it this way and that, examining it. “Damn, Jason, this is a nice one. Where’d you get it?”
“League,” Jason said with a shrug. Dick’s eyes tightened, and it looked so much like every time Jason mentioned his time with Talia. He hadn’t had the same reaction when Tim’s nightmare with Ra’s was brought up.
Maybe Tim should’ve seen this coming. After all, he had always been replaceable, always, just filling the role that needed to be filled. Whether it be Robin or a son, he had always been in their shadow. It was only natural that once his use ran out, once Jason was back as a son and Damian was there as Robin, that Tim’s time was up.
He should’ve tried harder. Maybe if he had worked more, done more, both on the field and in WE, he could’ve salvaged this. Maybe they wouldn’t hate him so much. Tim was tired of being hated, being ignored. He had thought he found people to trust.
And now his older brother was stepping closer, twirling Jason’s kris in his hand. And then he sliced a line down Tim’s chest, from just below the stab wound on his left shoulder, to above his ribs on his right, half an inch deep.
Tim’s head thumped against the wall as he hissed, long and low. That fucking hurt. Dick looked almost bored, tracking the blood spilling as it stained the torn shirt even further. That was okay. Tim didn’t want it anymore, anyway.
“C’mon, Dick, make him scream! That’s the fun part.”
“Again, voyeur. Taking way too much pleasure in it. But if you insist.” Without preamble, Dick drove the blade into his thigh. Tim didn’t even try to bite down on his cry of pain. He knew if he did, they would just keep trying until he didn’t.
“Nice one. Do it again.”
“When did you get so bossy?” Dick rolled his eyes, but Tim saw the twitch of a smile, the amused gleam of his eyes.
Jason grinned widely. “When I died. Any further comment?”
“Nah,” Dick said, and stabbed Tim in the gut. Tim screamed, raw, as the wound bled heavily when Dick withdrew. “I don’t think I can do it again, or he’ll bleed out. You wanted the honors, right?”
“You know it’s a big deal when the performer himself doesn’t want to do the big finish.”
“Says the drama kid.”
It was so typical of them it was painful, and Tim would laugh if they weren’t talking about killing him - and yes, that was what this was leading up to, he realized with a jolt. Of course Jason would do it. He had tried once, and Dick wouldn’t kill just for Tim. He wasn’t worth it.
“Whatever. Move over, my turn.” Jason stalked over to Tim, who was having a rather hard time keeping track of them, like walking through water. Slow. “Hey, Replacement. Excited for the grand finale?”
Tim said nothing. Jason didn’t like that.
“Aw, c’mon, Timmy. Don’t be such a spoilsport. This is a good thing. You won’t burden our family any longer. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To not be a burden.” Jason traced the damp edge of his kris - when had he gotten that back from Dick? - along the lines of Tim’s face.
Slowly, Tim nodded. It was true. The last thing he wanted was to make more of a problem than he already was.
Jason laughed, delighted. Tim hadn’t heard that bright of a laugh in weeks from him. “That’s good. You’re gonna make this easy, right? Not that you’ll have much of a choice.”
Tim nodded again. It was Jason. He was done fighting Jason. It never worked.
“Good. This’ll be a blast.” Jason flipped the blade around, faster than Tim could react, and struck him, hard, with the handle. It cracked across Tim’s face, leaving him seeing stars.
That was only for a minute, though.
“Don’t -” Dick called, but Tim’s head whipped to the side and he remembered nothing more.