Chapter Text
Tim’s teachers are exasperated that he hardly pays attention in class. And, well, it isn’t like Tim hasn’t tried. But the stuff they teach is boring. Fractions. The difference between words like lie and lay. Stupid stuff like that. And Tim just doesn’t care, really.
His parents will tell him “You’ve got to apply yourself, Timmy.” His mom with an earnest smile and kind eyes. His dad with a kind grip on Tim’s shoulder. But that’s about all they give him, and before Tim knows it, they’re already on their way to the airport again. Another overseas flight to another archeological dig.
Tim likes donuts, cartoons, and superheroes. He likes Batman and Robin. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. Later, Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd. Tim thinks he’s super smart for having figured it out. That’s why when Tim overhears his teachers express their concerns that he can’t perform as well as the ‘smart’ kids, Tim thinks it’s all a load of baloney. Tim knows he’s smart. Struggling to remember your times tables doesn’t make you stupid.
For some reason, they make it all about remembering. Remember this. Remember that. Tim thinks that’s boring. And besides, Tim does have a good memory. He remembers all the important stuff. Not the boring stuff.
He remembers the names of all the countries his parents have sent him postcards from. He remembers the date he saw Dick Grayson do the quadruple somersault on Tv and how he connected the dots. He even remembers this one time he saw Robin.
But well…
It was a fuzzy memory for Tim. As if it didn’t happen. Sometimes Tim thinks he must’ve dreamt it up. He remembers there was a telephone booth though. And Tim had been holding books. And it was nighttime. But what happened after that?
Tim can’t remember that.
The day after, Tim remembers his parents wouldn’t leave him alone. Which was super weird. They had gone to the airport last night. Why weren’t they on their plane? Did Tim dream that up too?
There were police officers too. And doctors, so Tim must’ve gotten really sick. He can’t remember what he was sick of. He does remember the yelling between his parents. He overheard them once.
“Why don’t we send him to that doctor we were recommended? Timmy won’t even get out of bed!”
“Jan, I don’t care what that out of touch man child thinks is good for our son! That doctor will just keep forcing him to relive it! What he needs is to move on and live his life like he used to! Like a normal kid!”
One night, Tim’s dad tucks him into bed and tells him “Everything will go back to normal soon, Timmy.”
Tim, with tired eyes, looks at his father’s face in the dark. “Can you turn on the light, Dad?
“No, Timmy. You need to sleep in the dark like everyone else.”
“Oh…” Tim frowns.
“Listen, Timmy. You just need to start doing the things you like again, and everything will go bad to how it used to be again.”
“Okay.” Tim says.
Life slowly gets better after that. Tim stops being sick. His mom and dad stay home for a while. They take him out, and nothing bad happens.
Eventually, they do have to go back to work. Tim misses them, so badly that it makes him sick again. He has trouble getting out of bed again for a few days. He sleeps with the light on. But another postcard quickly arrives, and Tim remembers what his dad told him. Tim tries doing the stuff he loves. The stuff he stopped doing for some reason. Instead of staying in his dark room at night, he goes out into the city again with his camera to take pictures of Batman and Robin.
To Tim it all feels like being on a rollercoaster. Every shutter his SLR gives off in his hands. The way the dynamic duo work as a team while fighting their enemies. The things they say.
“Hey guys! Looks your rides are here." Robin says, mocking the beaten and tied up thugs on the sidewalk as a barrage of cop cars pull up. "Did everyone have fun?” He asks through the sound of the sirens.
Batman comes up behind him and ruffles Robin’s hair.
Robin looks at Batman with a grin like sunlight. Tim adjusts his focus. Perfect. He takes another shot.
-
Robin’s gaze is alert. Batman’s right behind him, like frostbite.
“Scanned the perimeter, Batman.” Robin says.
“How many of them?”
“Twelve. They’re all armed. Benelli M3s. The hostage is alive in the basement.”
“Let’s go.” Batman’s voice is deep and authoritative. Robin has complete faith in him.
They crash in through the skylight. They dodge bullets. They kick ass. The guys go down, one by one. A guy screams bloody murder as Robin knocks him on his ass with his bo staff. But before he can do anything else, he’s grabbed from behind.
The man Robin knocked down stands back up and picks up his shotgun. The guy holding Robin up never lets up, no matter how hard the boy wonder struggles. Robin grits his teeth.
“They say don’t shoot no mockingbirds, but you ain’t a mockingbird, ay Robin?” The man the gun says, a cruel look on his face.
Before he can pull the trigger, Batman quickly kicks the gun out of his hands and knocks the man out cold before he can even process it. The guy who was holding Robin up lets him go and runs out of the building. Robin picks up his staff and chases after him. He runs outside to see the guy getting into a car and driving off.
“Not on my watch.” Robin utters.
He leaps into the sky and lands on the hood of the car. Robin waves at the driver from the front windscreen before he jams his staff into the hood. Then, Robin leaps off as the man swerves and crashes into a telephone pole. Smoke emits from the engine. Tim quickly grabs his staff.
The airbag pushes the man inside the car against his seat. He looks completely defeated.
Robin opens the door for him and says, “Looks like you’re gonna need a mechanic.”
Batman suddenly appears beside him and tells him “Take the rest of the night off, Robin.”
Tim has a feeling he knows why.
-
Spoiler hastily pulls her purple mask off before she throws it onto the floor, careless. She lets out a shriek before she throws herself onto her bed. Tim takes a careful seat beside her.
The world’s unfair. It’s always been unfair. How are they going to fix it?
Tim puts a hand on her shoulder, and she turns towards him. Their eyes meet.
Stephanie’s are brilliant blue, and Tim could just get lost in them. But he makes the effort not to.
“We’ll get him.” Tim says.
And Stephanie nods.
There’s a vibrant fire in Stephanie that burns so bright and gorgeous, like her. She’s so angry. She fights so hard. She’s so amazing. She’s almost like Robin. Not him, Robin. Tim is Robin. But the Robins that came before him are different. They’ve all been angry.
Dick was angry. He donned the cape to get justice for his parents. And Jason, well Tim will only ever hear rumors. He was brash, and brutal, and didn’t think twice before barging it. He had it hard, and his choice to defend the people like him reflected that. But Tim also knew he was kind and thoughtful in all the ways Robin is. Was. The way Dick is. Stephanie is like that. Bold but also sweet.
Tim guesses he must like her. Then Tim smiles, because he likes her. Stephanie is so amazing, and Tim likes her.