Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim doesn’t know when the unease started, only it began with a headache. He doesn’t know what was causing it either, whether it was the constant fear of attacks from Damian, or the perfectionism Bruce expected from him, or the awkwardness of having his ex-girlfriend still living in his house. He half expected it to be because of the disappointment while simultaneously high expectations from Dick, or Jason’s weird attempts at reaching out. 

He knows, deep down, that it’s none of the above, yet still, if a gun was pressed to his temple, we would swear it was the way Tam sighed and shook her head when he failed to complete as much work as he used to, or the miniscule pout in Batman’s lips that practically yelled his regret in letting Tim scratch and chew his way into his life and the role of Robin like a family of termites, destroying the connections between the family tree that once made it stand so tall. 

Maybe it's that, or because Tim is supposed to be the smart one. He finally recognizes the feelings inside of him as self hate when he has an ache in his head as well as nausea, and pain doesn’t seem to register in his head, and the days suddenly seem to stretch on for years, but napping after every couple hours would raise concerns, and he has responsibilities to do. 

When the doctor tells him it’s brain cancer (glioblastoma to be specific) and treatment will likely not do much but buy him another 6 or so months from his 5 remaining, his walls collapse. Suddenly realizes he’s there alone, wishing he took Dick up on his offer to go with his family to the movies, wanting another chance to reconnect with Damian without being viewed as a threat, hoping for at least Alfred to invite him one last time to a family dinner, surrounded by his family (he knows it won't happen. The events are biannually, and the next one is due a month after his expected passing). 

Tim finds himself stumbling through the first place he knows he should find comfort: Drake Manor. All the furniture and countertops were coated in a thin layer of dust that would make Janet Drake either faint or yell at him for not keeping the museum, no, house clean. He doesn’t care anyways, and the news of his cancer makes him want to curl up in his family’s arms. But he can’t. He helped Batman build himself back up when Jason died, what would people think of him if he can’t keep himself strong? Not your job a small voice murmured from the back of his head, but he shook it off. 

Tim climbed up the stairs he once watched Jack storm up after his many fits of rage and yelling matches with Janet. He creaked open the door he’s heard slam shut so many times, and crawled into the bed and under the covers that still smelled of his mother’s perfume, and made him feel like a little child again. 

Under the covers, Tim hides. He hides from the weight of expectations on his shoulders, hides from the crushing feeling of disappointment both directed at and from him, hides from the murky air and water of Gotham, and from the life-shattering news of cancer. 

Can he tell anyone? If he does, who? How? Obviously not Dick, it would crush him and he needs to be strong for Damian, who will take his cancer as a sign of weakness. Jason would definitely destroy his carefully planned calendar to hang out with him, which would ruin his carefully crafted Red Hood persona. Bruce would find some way to blame himself. He doesn’t know if he can take seeing Alfred cry one more time. Cass should be in Hong Kong by now, and if he tells her, she’ll for sure fly all the way back. God knows she’ll already know by the first phone call. Maybe he can ignore her calls? 

Tim burrows further into the duvet as tears spring into his eyes, pretending he doesn't know Cass will know something's wrong the second he doesn't answer her call right away. 

Chapter Text

Tim's been missing for a while now. Dick sat slumped in front of the Batcomputer, his teeth worrying the skin on his lip. 

Maybe he's overthinking it. Tim's only been gone for half a month, but he usually stops by the Manor or The Cave and sometimes just texts to check in. Ever since last patrol 3 weeks ago; nothing. 

“Richard, you are working yourself to death. Drake will come back, he always does after his little tantrums,” Damian strolled into the room like he owned it. Not yet Dick's brain unhelpfully reminded him, while he turned to the big computer to watch Red Hood’s familiar helmet in the security camera as Jason drove into the cave on his motorcycle. 

Dick sighed and stood, choosing to ignore the insult directed at his brother and instead walked over to meet Jason as he parked and took off his red helmet, casting a new but welcoming smile to him. 

“What’s up Dickbird, don’t tell me you lost Replacement again? S’up Demon Brat?” Jason reached over to mess up Damian’s hair, only to be swatted away with a knife. 

“Jay, this might actually be serious,” Dick placed his hand on Jason’s shoulder, almost as a way of calming himself, unsure how to continue, “Tim’s… gone. I don’t know where he could’ve gone, and we only know he’s gone because he hasn’t solved any cases during his disappearance. I would check on his safehouses, but I know he hasn’t told me all of them and you two seem closer.”

Dick watched as his younger brother’s eyebrows scrunched together in thought and his back stood straighter, a habit he most likely picked up from his days as Robin. Dick watched Jason’s eyes, trying to decide if this would trigger something and he needed to get Damian out. Instead of the usual anger that illuminated out of his artificially green eyes, a wave of protectiveness surged from them. Despite the glowing green eyes, Jason’s voice stayed steady as he asked, “When did you find out, and who’s the suspects?” 

Dick swallowed, “Tam called from Wayne Enterprises a week ago, said she hasn’t seen Tim for two weeks and asked us to search. If I had to guess I would say Harley Quinn, The Penguin, Poison Ivy, and Scarecrow. I think we can rule out Punchline, Mr. Freeze, and possibly Joker from their reputation of throwing their dead victims in dumpsters, but we can never be too sure.” 

Now the green eyes were glaring at Dick with pure hatred, and the voice matched with a growl, “You didn’t notice he was missing for two weeks and you still don’t know why he’s gone?!” 

“It sounds worse than it is-” Dick managed to stutter out before Jason interrupted. 

“Sounds?! It is worse than it sounds,” Jason shoved his helmet back on his head and stomped over to his motorcycle, “I’m going to find our brother before you find him dead in a dumpster.” 

Dick and Damian watched as Jason sped off and stood in silence for a minute before Damian decided to break it with a question that almost made Dick break down, “Todd and Drake are close?” 

“They- God, I don’t know Damian. I’ve barely had time to try to connect with Tim since-I guess since Jason came back. Do you know any of his safehouses I don’t know about?” Dick knew he looked desperate, his messed up hair and slightly red eyes, but didn’t care. He was desperate. Tim held the family together, keeping Bruce happy, talking sense into Jason, even (as many times as she would like to deny it, Dick knew the truth) easily being Cass’s favorite, something everyone knew was not an easy task. 

After Jason attacked was pressured into hurting Tim at the Titans Tower, Dick didn’t think Tim and him could get any further apart, but kept being proven otherwise after Damian arrived and needed more attention then Dick had to give and too much jealousy to live peacefully with Tim, and Dick was proven otherwise again when Bruce died. It wasn’t his fault that time however, as Tim was clearly losing his mind, grasping at straws, and claiming Bruce was talking to him. It was your fault Dick’s brain, being so helpful today, piped up you stole Robin from him. I didn’t steal Robin, I promoted Tim. I can’t have someone I respect work for me, it’s not fair. Does Tim know that? 

Dick sighed and closed his eyes before ushering Damian upstairs for dinner and bed before deciding to join Jason on his hunt for Tim. 

Chapter Text

The Penguin fell to the floor, rolling around and clutching his long-crooked nose. “Where are your hostages?” The rough, gravelly voice of Batman demanded, standing over the Penguin with a bloody fist. 

“I don't have any left, Red Hood broke in and beat up nearly all my men,” The Penguin spat, still holding his nose that was leaving a dark red color on his fancy white gloves. 

“Red Hood's territory is Crime Alley,” Batman growled. 

Tim sat in front of his late father's study desk; hands tangled in his hair as he looked over Wayne Enterprise's budget. It was honestly a mess and he wanted to give up and call Tam or Bruce or Lucius, but working made him forget about his diagnosis. Another thing you're alone in . Tim shook his head and looked at the spreadsheet. He tried to focus as the words started to make as much sense to him as Japanese, something that happened more often nowadays than he'd like to admit. 

Tim gave up and looked at the date on his phone, noticing it was way later in the month than he expected. He sighed and decided to retire to his apartment about three miles away from the Monarch Theater. 

Nightwing rolled through the toxic gas with a mask on his face. Through the poisonous air he punched Scarecrow in the gut and watched as he folded over. 

“You ever kill a man named Tim Drake?” Nightwing demanded. 

“Not even beating around the bush, huh?” The Scarecrow muttered with a bloody snarl, “I kill a lot of people, gorgeous. Who's asking?” 

Nightwing sighed and kicked Scarecrow in the face before grappling away, that's a no then.

The drive was long and boring as Tim drove through usual Gotham traffic. (He almost gave up and called a cab when he nearly fell asleep at the wheel. Thankfully [or not, depending on who you ask], he remembered failing to save a small family as they tumbled over the edge of a bridge in a neon yellow taxi driven by an untrustworthy driver.) Instead of giving up however, Tim chugged the last of his coffee and pulled into the driveway of his favorite coffee shop. 

“In three I'll kick down the door and we'll burst in, then question Poison Ivy, okay?” Brown confirmed, far too ecstatic for the following mission. This was supposed to be serious, not a game , Damian thought, and then voiced aloud, something Brown frustratingly laughed at. 

“Damian, lighten up! Tim always has a plan and we'll get him back before you know it. Now, on three?” 

“Shoulder the door Brown, lest you break your foot,” Damian huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. 

He was pleasantly surprised when Brown listened to him. He was even more surprised to find a picnic blanket and basket surrounded by fancy plants. His eyes widened and his jaw almost fell when on that picnic blanket he saw Dr. Poison Ivy and Dr. Harley Quinn having a very obvious date. The following twenty seconds was filled with awkward eye contact, neither wanting to be the first person to speak. 

“Y’all are dating? That's cool,” Brown was standing as stiff as a board, “So I guess you guys haven't been kidnapping anyone recently, huh?” Damian almost facepalmed at her bluntness.

“Nope,” Dr. Quinn popped the ‘p’. 

“Have a nice date Dr. Quinn and Dr. Ivy,” Damian backed out, both dragging Steph out and closing the door at the same time. 

Damian sighed and while he was retreating he heard laughter from behind the door. 

“Uhhhhhhhh,” an old man muttered, squinting at the menu the barista so kindly printed out for him, seemingly unbothered by the long line of impatient customers behind him before another barista started a second line. 

“Stupid New Yorkers,” a man that looked short and white enough to be one of The Penguin’s penguins growled as he walked past the man. 

“Hey!” The New Yorker objected. 

“I'm walkin’ here!” The Penguin wanna-be follower mocked the man with a sneer on his face. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. Why are you guys so fast to make it to the front of the line, but take so long to order?” 

“Excuse me, Mister Moon Knight look-alike, but I haven't had my coffee today, and a man who's worked as many jobs as I have gets some respect back in New York,” The old man turned around to glare at the man. “Hell, all I had to say was ‘My name is Stan Lee’ and they'd hire me on the spot!” 

“Really, old man?” 

“Hey, how about we break this up before this turns ugly, alright fellas?” A third man intervened. 

Ahh, the usual fighting and arguing of his favorite coffee shop. 

It's been another week. Another week of Tim being God knows where, and of the Bats freaking out. Alfred called Cass to update her, and she's already booked the quickest flight back to help in the search, and Jason, being the dumbest, most dramatic theater kid ever, went to Tim's secret apartment to mourn, fully believing he'll never find Tim again. Jason knew Dick and Bruce and himself, not that he'll tell anyone would be broken from another Robin's death. I just don't want another one to join the Dead Robin's club , Jason reasoned. 

Jason fished the key out of his pocket for Tim's apartment and sulked inside. His sulking stopped almost instantly when he noticed a pair of Tim's Red Robin boots next to the front door, a light on distantly in the other room, and the alluring smell of bacon and eggs cooking distantly. 

Jason stalked further into the apartment, smelling the scent of breakfast that was eventually followed by toast. When Jason was right outside the doorway to the kitchen he could hear humming, and stepped in the kitchen doorframe to find… Replacement?! Just listening to some music blasting through the headphones he recognized as a joke gift Dick gave Tim because it was made by the restaurant Red Robin (who knew Red Robin made merchandise?) 

“Timmy?” Jason's voice sounded smaller and closer to tears than he intended and he cleared his throat. 

Tim didn't turn around, swaying his hips so slightly he probably didn't notice, because the music was so loud it carried over to Jason almost perfectly. But there he was, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, alive and well. And listening to the worst music taste imaginable. 

Jason wrinkled his nose at his brother's horrible taste in music as he hesitantly stepped forwards into Replacement's eyesight. 

Chapter Text

Tim’s losing it. He’s losing his sharp senses and refined muscle that came with half a decade of almost torturous training under Lady Shiva and Batman. He almost attacked Jason when he felt his hand on his shoulder because he didn’t recognize Red Hood. When he remembered he almost cried. 

Tim knows some things fade with old age, but to be honest, he never made any contingency plans for if he ever lost his memory. Even if he expected it to happen, he can barely legally drive a car. None of his contingency plans accounted for him dying at 17. Once, for fun, Tim estimated with the way things were going, out of the Robins, Damian was going to die first most likely from his too big of an ego. Next on the list was Dick, possibly from overworking himself, then... Cass? No. Cass is too calculating for that. Alfred? Can Alfred die? The point was, Tim was at the very bottom of the list. 

A wave of unease spread through Tim’s body. Like the one from his cancer, but more unexpected. That’s what panicked Tim the most. Anything unexpected in Tim’s life never came with pleasant surprises (Tim still remembers his parents coming back earlier than expected to an empty house and the consequences of not cleaning up his school project. He remembers The Widower’s looming shadow at the mouth of the cave and wondering if it was a sword or a really long stick before he saw his friend’s limp bodies hit the sand). 

“Replacement! Come on, bathroom! I can’t find your med-kit so you gotta show me where you’ve hidden it,” Jason’s voice rang through the hallway, snapping Tim out of his panicking spiral. 

“Hiding it prevents…” tapering? Temporing? Tim’s brow furrowed slightly as he stepped into the bathroom before finishing lamely, “tapering.” 

Tears almost welled in Tim’s eyes when he saw Jason’s smirk and realized he got the word wrong. 

“Tampering?” 

“I said that,” Tim grabbed the med-kit from behind the trashcan and handed it to Jason as well as his cut hand. 

Tim could hear Jason humming a song that Alfred usually has on while he’s cooking in the kitchen and he knows he should find it comforting, but it isn’t helping with the headache that is slowly throbbing up the base of his skull. 

“Please be quiet,” Tim almost snapped and regretted it immediately as he saw Jason’s face fall a little and his movements while wrapping Tim’s hand faltered. Tim whispered an apology that Jason shrugged off, “I’m- I’m sorry. I’ve had a...shit... vessel day?”

“...Do you mean stressful?”

“Shut up, Jason. People forget words all the time,” Tim scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, but ‘people’ doesn’t usually refer to you, Replacement,” Jason smiled, oddly warmly, as he wrapped up his hand before humming, “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” 

I should tell him, Tim thought, lost in a trance as Jason wrapped around, and around, and around, and- “I have cancer.” The wrapping stopped. Tim looked up to see Jason's subtly shocked face staring back. One of Tim's biggest problems according to Jack and Janet is once he starts talking to someone who's showing no signs of stopping him, he can't stop, “I figured out a month ago, that's why I went missing. The doctor called it glioblastoma. They said I have 4-5 months left, which I guess is now down to 3-4 months. I don't think I want to tell people… I don't know if I can. I'm sorry.” 

“Shit, Replacement,” Jason's hands dropped onto his lap, “Don't apologize. This is shitty as fuck why should you be apologizing? Hell, I should be apologizing. I fucking beat you up when you were Robin and I was such an idiot and cruel to you while you were surprisingly still sweet. I'm sorry. Fucking apologizing little shit,” Jason muttered the last part, standing up and walking to the living room. 

Tim sat on the toilet seat lid, absolutely shocked by Jason's slightly cringy and dramatic (sometimes when Tim isn’t in such a good place, he’ll call Jason and give him a fake story about patrol just for his overly dramatic reaction) apology. 

An hour later (Tim doesn’t think about how that hour felt like both a second and a year at the same time) Jason walked back into the bathroom to drag him to his kitchen table to a plate of cookies and some coffee. 

“Jason, just because I jump across rooftops in red doesn’t mean I’m Santa,” Tim’s jab didn’t make Jason laugh, but it did make him crack a small smile. 

Chapter Text

Tim found his current couch in a dumpster during one of his patrols as Robin. The couch had a floral print, the flowers’ once vibrant color faded with time. The back of the couch has a suspicious looking red stain, and a spring was peeking out of the left side of one of the couch’s cushions. Right next to the spring was a hole in the armrest where Tim can sometimes see a rat poking his head out. (He also thinks the rat could be the one leaving him little snacks around the house, but maybe Kon is testing his luck and going into Gotham just to give him these small delicacies when he forgets to eat?)

Everything in Tim’s apartment was like his couch. Old, used, broken, dirty. He loves it. His apartment felt lived in, and it was a stark contrast to the manor he grew up in that was almost a museum. 

Janet Drake would probably faint at his decor. She would call it a “Frankenstein of trash” and immediately go to throw it out. Jason didn’t care, and barely mentioned the mismatched chairs of various sizes. This and the cookies are why Jason is my favorite . 

Jason’s barking laugh startled Tim out of his daydream and Tim could feel his face heating up when Jason proudly declared, “Thanks, Timmy. I think these cookies are the only real reason Bruce hasn’t kicked me out of the manor half the time.” 

“I think that's another thing I need to concier- conscien- think about,” Tim put a half eaten cookie back down on the plate, sighing at the way he keeps stumbling over words, “Should I tell them? They’re detectives, so you’d expect for them to figure it out themselves, but being a detective doesn’t mean you’re smart. If they don’t figure it out, do I tell them? Do I get someone else to? Do I  tell them at all if they don’t find out?” 

“Timmy, chill. We’ll find a solution to all your crazy ass contingencies,” Jason’s voice brought Tim out of his spiral and Tim just squinted at him as if Jason already had those solutions. Jason just watched Tim for a couple seconds while frowning before he took the cookie plate and walked over to the couch. Jason dropped the plate of his delicious cookies onto a bright green side table and then flopped onto Tim’s dumpster-couch. “We have to at least start with some movies, cause you’ve clearly never had a childhood. Have you even heard of The Little Mermaid? Pocahontas? Monsters Inc.? Lilo and Stitch? Snow White? Sleeping Beauty?” 

“I haven’t watched them, but I’ve heard enough of Damian’s rants to know those last two didn’t age well,” Tim huffed, moving over to the couch to grab his cookies and coffee. He sat down next to Jason and watched with a smirk as he struggled with the remote. 

“Well, they’re classics. If they didn’t want to receive backlash they shouldn’t have tried to make a live action movie about something written 100 years ago,” Jason muttered, pressing all the buttons on Tim’s remote to try to turn the TV on, “whoever made this stupid fucking remote deserves to- oh nevermind I figured it out.”

Sometime through the third movie ( The Little Mermaid ), Tim realized Jason had dragged him closer to the other side of the couch. Tim had his head on Jason’s chest, listening to the soothing thumping of his heartbeat and feeling Jason’s hand comb gently through his hair. 

“I think I won’t,” Tim lifted his head off of Jason’s chest to look at him clearer. 

“If you’re talking about the movie, I think I have to agree. This guy is almost as bad as Cinderella’s prince. These guys need to start paying attention to what their crushes look like,” Jason paused the movie, looking back down at Tim and moving the hand that was playing with his hair onto the back of the couch while Tim sat up. 

“No, I’m talking about the family. I can lie to Batman, but I might not be able to lie to Alfred,” Tim looked at the paused TV screen lost in thought. 

“But have you ever tried to hide anything from Cass?” Jason gave Tim an incredulous stare, “I’m not even kidding, she can call your bullshit out from miles away.” 

“Maybe a list would help?” Tim pulled a pad of paper and a pen out from the hole in the couch ( thanks, Vicky! Yes, he named the rat ). He ignored Jason’s surprised jump and started to write down Cass and Alfred’s names. Before he forgot he wrote down Pru

“If you want them to know, you should also tell your team. Those idiots can’t tell the difference between Dick and I when we’re dressed as civilians. And Dick was doing his fucking gymnastics!” 

“For the fifth time, they were awake for three days and didn’t have any coffee,” Tim rolled his eyes but still put down his teammates names, “Selina is obviously out of the question because she’ll just rat me out to Bruce. Tam will find out something’s wrong and make me tell her anyway. Duke?” 

Jason thought for a moment, then jumped up, cursing, “I forgot to tell the fucking family I found you! Shit! It’s been fucking hours!” 

Four hours after the Batfamily lost track of Jason Dick recieved a phone call from him, telling Dick he found Tim. That night the family turned in for bed with smiles on their faces. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Tim and Jason were huddled around the landline on Tim’s kitchen counter. “Just call him,” Jason urged, “The worst that can happen is you’ll be ignored.”

“The last time I thought that I was replaced as Robin and went to work for Ra’s,” Tim stared at the phone with the same disapproving face that he would give someone from Metropolis who called Batman ‘just okay’. 

After a couple seconds of silence Tim looked over to see Jason’s baffled face as he responded with, “We’re gonna unpack all that later. Now just talk to Dick,” Jason ended his sentence by shoving the phone receiver into Tim’s hand and dialing Dick’s number. 

“ Hello? ” Dick’s grainy voice asked through the old phone. Tim shot Jason a ‘ help me ’ look as he pressed the receiver against his ear. 

“Hey, Dick, it’s Tim. Uh, could you organize an- um, outing with the uh- the family? I just have some free time on my schedule today, a-and I have everyone else’s schedules, so I know everyone else is free…” Tim’s voice trailed off and he kept eyeing Jason’s weird supportive smile. The opposite from the smile he wore as he looked down on Tim on the floor of the Titan’s Tower . 

“ Hey, Tim! Of course I can set something up! Do you have anywhere or anytime in mind? If you’re free this evening we can go to the zoo and see the new exhibit, then go to a restaurant? ” 

“Y-yeah sure. Should we go at 4? I’m going to invite Jason.” 

“ Um, okay! So, I’ll grab the rest of the family and we’ll meet at the Gotham Zoo? ” 

“See you there.” 

Jason and Tim watched from the zoo entrance as the rest of the Wayne family staggered out of the minivan Alfred just parked. “They’re ten minutes late,” Jason whispered into Tim’s ear with a snarl. 

“Keep up that snarl and I’ll throw you into an animal enclosure where you belong,” Tim eyed Jason and leaned away, “With all this growling and snarling they won't be able to tell the difference between you and the kittens in the pet shop down the road.” 

“Hey, Tim and Jason!” Dick enthusiastically waved and bounded over which earned him an eye roll from Jason, “Sorry we’re late, Bruce was booking the whole restaurant we’re eating at later, and then he had to do a background check on everyone working that day.” 

“He could’ve done that earlier, dumbass. I would’ve thought Damian would be jumping out of the car to see this new cat exhibit,” Jason nearly spat. 

“Why are you so eager for us to be here on time, Todd? Are you in a rush?” Damian practically spawned out from behind Dick and glared back at Jason, “And they aren’t just cats . They’re lions. You should know this. With all your rabid habits we could probably try to find a cousin of yours.” 

“Told you,” Tim whispered to Jason. He waited until the whole family was gathered together at the entrance before turning to Damian and saying, “You should lead the way to the new exhibit, Demon Brat, you’re probably the only one who knows where it is.” 

Damian’s purposeful stride to the tiger exhibit was stopped every other yard when any part of the family would see an animal and ooh and aah until they were dragged away by another family member. Dick’s favoritism over the elephants took three members to pry him away. They almost lost Bruce to the bats. There were a lot of tears and some blood but the whole family somehow got Bruce away (Tim doesn’t mention it when he sees the way Jason’s eyes light up when they get near the bird enclosure, but he bumps his shoulder against his in a reassuring way). 

“Finally, we’re here. If you idiots didn’t take every detour we could have been here twenty minutes earlier,” Damian’s huff did little to distract the gleam in his eyes when they caught onto the tigers. Damian walked toward the enclosure and the family started to spread out a little, admiring the animals or reading the descriptions on the animals. 

“Hey! My name’s Bernard, I’m in charge of the tigers here,” a chippy voice from the right of Tim brought his attention to a blond teenager in the zoo worker’s uniform and a smile bright enough to challenge Dick’s, “You just look a little new here, so I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m basically always here besides for school hours, so if you ever end up here again and in need of some assistance, I’ll be right here!” 

“I-I’m Tim, it’s nice to meet you. I’ll keep that in mind, I hope to see you around,” Tim and Bernard exchanged smiles before Bernard left to go back to the office and Tim was so intently watching him that he didn’t notice when Jason silently slid up beside him and wolf whistled. 

“Who was that hottie flirting with you?” Steph nudged Tim and whispered, out of the earshot of the rest of the family. 

“Flirting? He-he wasn’t flirting! He just told me if I needed any help where to find him. That’s not flirting, it’s called being helpful,” despite Tim’s protests he could feel a blush starting to crawl up his face. 

“Please. He basically gave you his number,” Steph slung an arm around Tim’s shoulder. 

“He didn’t give me his number. He just told me he works here all the time.” 

“‘ If you ever end up here again and in need of some assistance, I’ll be right here!’” Steph mocked in an overly cheery and high-pitched voice, “He was totally flirting!” 

Tim just stood there confused until Steph started to drag him over to where most of the rest of the family was and they listened to Damian talk seemingly endlessly about tigers until around 6:30 when they were politely told the zoo closed half an hour ago and they had to leave.

Chapter Text

“We’re here!” Dick jumped out of the minivan the minute Alfred stopped the car followed like a shadow by an exasperated Damian. 

“Richard, you can’t just toss your UNO hand into the car just because you’ve lost,” Damian looks like he’s trying to mimic Dick’s stern tone when he’d talk to Damian similarly, but instead looking like a frustrated puppy. 

“I’m sorry I’m the undefeated champion of UNO. My awesomeness can’t be contained,” Steph stepped out of the minivan with a swish of hair that hit Bruce in the face and made him stumble gracelessly out of the vehicle. 

Cass slipped out of the car behind Bruce, eyeing Steph’s hair cautiously. She stopped for a second to look at the name of the restaurant and stifled a laugh. Tim saw why a second later when he stepped out and was face to face with the neon sign of the Red Robin restaurant. 

“Seriously?” Tim looked over at Dick to see a sly but proud smile inching onto his face. Dick was saved from any further insult by the roar of Jason’s motorcycle as he sped into the Red Robin parking lot. 

“Did the dumbass make you do this?” Jason demanded tilting his head at Dick, swinging off his bike and glaring lightly at Bruce. 

If Jason was going to say anything else he cut himself off when he looked at Tim and saw a genuine smile on his face. “The Titans told me to buy the company. Ever since I started working with them as Red Robin their annual income has doubled,” Tim paused then started to lead the way to the building, “I might be wrong-I’m too hungry to think clearly right now.” 

True to Dick’s word, Bruce had reserved the whole restaurant for them, and the waitstaff seemed too happy and kind-for people in Gotham-to serve the Waynes (but then again, being famous for tipping way more than the bill will do that to a family). 

“Are you ashamed of us, Brucie?” Steph asked in an overly innocent voice trying (and failing) to make puppy dog eyes while batting her eyelashes aggressively as the waiter led them to a booth far away from the windows. 

Bruce’s defense was drowned out as Dick took Steph aside and began to teach her how to do the puppy dog eyes effectively. As Steph’s face lit up with the biggest smile as Dick taught Bruce sighed in defeat. 

“Don’t worry, Old Man, it’s hard being ashamed of all your kids at the same time. We get it,” Jason slapped Bruce on the back supportively before taking a seat at the booth next to Tim. 

Bruce sat down with a slouch at a chair pulled over to the head of the table. Tim could see through his faux disappointment as the rest of the family sat down, chatting and laughing with one another and a smile was slowly creeping onto his father's Bruce's face. 

After the waiter left with their drinks orders Tim looked around and just let it soak in. The stress that usually came from their work as vigilantes and followed them through the day had disappeared. It was replaced by the easygoing attitude they rarely got to experience genuinely. 

Dick and Duke were mocking a red faced Damian about some girl in his second to last period, Steph and Cass were unscrewing a salt top to prank Bruce, who was deep in conversation with Alfred. 

By the time their food had arrived Damian had nearly killed Dick, Duke, and Jason, who had joined in on the teasing a while ago. Steph and Cass already had five pranks set up for Bruce, and Bruce and Tim were animatedly trash talking LexCorp, adding thinly veiled insults about Superman (his worst enemy is a bald guy without powers , and Superman still struggles. You know, like the loser he is). Alfred was trying hard to keep the peace. 

Alfred eventually gave up and retreated to the bathroom, but not before a stern talking to and glare about how they shouldn't all go to hell the moment he leaves. 

“Oh! B!” Steph had a bite of mac and cheese on her fork and was gesticulating wildly, “how are you and Selina- whoops!” 

The whole table watched as the food that was on Steph's fork flew through the air and landed on the middle of Jason's shirt. 

Jason glared at Steph and Dick watched with an over exaggerated jaw drop as three UNO cards slipped from her sleeve. 

“Oh, you're gonna regret that, Stephanie ,” Jason bit out with vitriol as he grabbed a handful of Dick's food and threw it at Steph with such precision and speed she didn't have time to duck out of its murderous path. 

“How could you!” Dick grasped his chest with a gasp dramatically at Steph as Jason grabbed another handful from his plate. 

Almost immediately a food fight had started. Duke had tried to escape the inevitable by wolfing down his food to hide behind his plate, and ended up covered in a mixture of ketchup and mayonnaise. 

“Ahem,” Alfred walked out of the bathroom with a raised eyebrow and the Batfamily turned to him looking like deer in headlights as they tried to unsuccessfully hide the mess they made in those short 5 minutes. Alfred walked to the table, stepping over the pieces of food in his way. 

“I think it would be wise if we left. A fter you all clean this up,” Alfred sent a pointed look to Bruce, “you may finish your meal first, Master Bruce.” 

A few waiters brought mops, brushes, water buckets, and brooms to the Waynes and Alfred supervised as the family started to reluctantly clean. 

“So, Bruce?” Steph inched her way over to Bruce, scrubbing at invisible food, “how are you and Selina? I think I'm starting to see her more and more at the manor for lunches and stuff, and for the amount of smartasses that this family has, no one seems to be questioning it.” 

Bruce hesitated by grabbing the salt, “I figured I'd start to invite her to the manor more often. I'm planning on proposing soon.” 

The shocked silence was all you could hear in the room until the salt cap broke and all you could see on Bruce's plate was a mountain of salt. 

Chapter Text

Jason might murder Bruce. And Steph. Right when Jason was about to ask Dick if he could start inviting Tim to these get togethers. And to not mention they existed before and just ‘conveniently’ forgot to invite him. Actually, Dick might make that list too. Jason was already pissed at the adults in the family for not inviting Tim. When he learned Tim actually had a limited time with them that they were wasting, Jason saw a green so bright he was blinded for a solid minute. 

Now Jason was left fuming as he drove in his motorcycle behind the minivan to the manor. He didn’t even know Alfred had any blackmail on him, and the confusion was the only thing grounding him from a pit-induced fury. 

Jason beat the Bats to the manor and focused on pacing angrily to calm the green that overwhelmed him. When he had settled on shooting apples on a nearby tree to calm down, Alfred had pulled the minivan up the driveway and the family hopped out. They were all fawning over the diamond engagement ring Bruce had stored somewhere in his pockets. Jason frowned when he noticed Tim stalk out of the van last, craning his head to try to catch a glimpse of the ring Steph was currently obsessing over. 

Jason huffed and nabbed the ring from Steph’s hand and shoved it at Tim so he could look at it, “Let's go inside, we gotta show Tim so many movies. He hasn’t even seen Lilo and Stitch.” 

Jason smiled as the topic of conversation was successfully dragged to Tim while he was admiring the ring. Dick almost instantly linked his arm with Tim’s and started to drag him up the manor steps, all while ranting non-stop about how great the movie is. Bruce plucked the ring out of Tim’s hand as he was being dragged away and managed to store it as Cass and Steph did the same exact thing to him. 

Halfway through Lilo and Stitch when Steph had just finished braiding Dick’s short hair, she spun around and looked at Bruce with alarm before practically pleading, “Please tell me when you propose it’s not going to be really boring and basic.” 

“What? No. She’s on a mission in Metropolis, so I’m just going to mail it to her,” Bruce’s pathetic answer got either a gasp or disgusted look from the whole room, and someone paused the TV. 

“Bruce,” Jason’s use of his actual name got his attention, “You can’t have this actual life changing moment through the fucking mail .” 

“I can add a letter?” Bruce weakly replied. His shoulders hunched up by only a centimeter or so, but the whole room saw it. 

“Master Bruce, this proposal requires an in-person conversation,” Alfred calmly explained, seemingly the only person in the room not outraged by his stupidity. 

“So, I invite her to the manor?” 

Steph stared at Bruce for a moment, then got up and walked out of the room to cool off some steam. 

“B, no, ” Dick pleaded with Bruce as he held a hand over his forehead and shaking it with shame. 

Tim wasn’t a genius in romance, but he was pretty smart with knowing what people like and don’t, from his years following Batman around and keeping him content. 

Steph, while she was a teenage girl, wasn’t an expert in romance (he’s pretty sure the closest she’s ever gotten to a romance book was Twilight ). Tim could see when she looked burnt out of ideas after the third one, and the rest of the family wasn’t better either. 

“I would say movies, but you kinda have to wait for either before or after, and she’s in Metropolis . Their idea of a horror movie is probably our idea of a comedy,” (Cass high fived Duke for that Metropolis comment). 

Tim rolled his eyes as he watched the family grasp at straws. Damian mentioned something about some place he went to train while with the League of Assassins, starting a chain where everyone in the group started to talk over each other. 

After Cass signed something about proposing while they sparred with each other Tim decided to pipe up, “You could take her out for a picnic. Somewhere without as much light pollution as a busy city like Gotham or Metropolis. A study I found recently showed a majority of Gothamites have never seen stars because of the light pollution. It could very well be her first experience with stars, and nothing would be more magical than seeing stars for the first time while being proposed to by someone you love.” 

Tim’s shoulders slumped when they kept talking over him, and he shared a pathetic glance with an angry looking Jason who nearly yelled, “Hey! Picnic under the stars?!” 

Dick’s face lit up when he heard Jason and the room quieted down in a second, “Jason! That’s actually really smart! Bruce, you could organize a picnic with Selina, and when she’s mesmerized with the stars, then you can propose!” 

Jason’s eyes flickered green and when Tim put his hand on his shoulder it dulled out a little. 

“ It’s fucking bullshit is what it is ,” Jason was still furious with Bruce after the night before, “ He such a fucking idiot. Now people are going to be fawning over his engagement and you’re going to be pushed off to the side again. It’s not fucking fair .” 

“Jason, it’s fine. I’ve hacked into his computer and found out if she says yes I should have enough time to make it. We can still make thousands of memories before it happens. Worst case scenario, you bring my urn to the wedding so I can judge their horrible taste in flowers,” Tim tried to reason as he pinched the bridge of his nose in the coffee shop. They were taking a ridiculous amount of time to make his coffee, and Tim was wondering if it was even worth it anymore. He glared at a girl as she got her complex, impossible coffee order before his black coffee. He was pondering whether he should ask, but was swept up in the smell of his favorite drink and pissed off voice of his favorite brother. 

“ It’s fucking not fine. What if something happens? I can’t bring an urn to a wedding, you’re going to get weird looks. Not me, I might ditch you at the first chance I get,” Jason retorted with a scoff. 

“Like sentimental-Dick would let you leave my ashes,” Tim smiled, “He’ll give you some long-ass rant about how my ashes could get knocked over or something.” 

“Order for Keith!” Tim scowled as a barista called out another complicated order before his. 

“ Are you still in that stupid coffee shop? That place seriously sucks,” Jason laughed at Tim through the phone, “ Just stop by the donut place, the one no one knows the name of. Tell Carol for a dozen of Jason’s usual. She’s the best. I’ll make you some delicious coffee when you come back with the donuts.” 

(Jason wasn't exaggerating over the donut place name. Its sign has been worn down with weather and sunlight and even on Google Maps the name of the store is just a question mark. It’s a running gag at this point in Gotham. When someone enters the store an employee will mumble the name in their greeting and it never fails to confuse people from out of the city). In situations like these, Tim can pretend to understand it when Justice League members visit Gotham and go out for a walk to get lost for hours (Tim heard of a bet between Green Lantern and Superman of which Bat will admit to getting lost in Gotham. He’s gotten close a couple times, but he’ll be rotting in his cold, dead grave before he wins Superman $20). 

“Fine,” Tim spun on his heel out of the coffee shop and started walking vaguely in the direction of the mystery-named place, “But that coffee better be so amazing it can bring someone back to life.” 

“Deal, just hurry up with those donuts,” Jason chuckled.

Chapter Text

The unknown named donut shop wasn’t as bad as Tim expected. Usually it’s filled with confused out-of-city people with their giggling Gothamite teenage friends. Today there were only a handful of these customers. Tim’s eyes scanned the room the minute he stepped foot into the coffee shop (a habit trained into him almost the second he knocked on Bruce’s door). 

“Hey!” A friendly sounding voice alerted Tim of the person behind him. Tim spun around to try to defend himself, but stopped when he recognized the fluff of blond hair as the one belonging to the boy at the zoo, “Tim, right? It’s so crazy we’re bumping into each other here! I’m pretty new to Gotham, but I can tell it’s a pretty big place.” 

“Um, yeah, well, first…” Tim’s eyes scanned the other boy’s current zookeeper attire for a nametag, “Bernard, you can’t go around Gotham shouting you’re new; it’s going to make you a target. Second, how do you know my name?” 

“Uh,” Bernard shifted a little, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and chuckling awkwardly, “I’m pretty sure you gave it to me. If you didn’t, sorry, I probably sound really creepy.” 

“Eh, I’ve met creepier,” Tim shrugged, starting to walk towards the end of the line behind some obviously native Gothamite teenagers and their obviously nor-native friends (Tim’s already accepted he’ll be here for weeks), “Just don’t kidnap me for ransom and we’ll be fine.” 

Tim smiled awkwardly when his joke got a nervous laugh out of the other boy. They kept up the small talk as the line slowly shortened, and when Bernard mentioned he’s been living in Gotham for only a few weeks (seriously, this guy never seems to learn) it remind Tim of a Gothamite prank played on new Gothamites: 

“So how long do you think it will take for the next Batman to arrive?” Tim brought up as casually as he could. 

“How long what?! ” Bernard leaned forwards as if he didn’t hear Tim correctly. 

“Oh you know,” Tim waved his hand through the air vaguely, “When Batman changes. It’s not usually noticeable, but once, he started acting a little like Nightwing a while back and that was a little weird.” 

Bernard’s eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets as he took a notebook from seemingly nowhere and started jotting down notes at an impressively fast speed. When Tim stopped talking for a second he saw the top of the notebook titled ‘Batman conspiracies’ (Note to self: hack into security cameras nearby to see whatever conspiracies Bernard is making up and laugh about them later with Jason). 

Bernard looked up at Tim and nodded encouragingly to ask him to continue, and Tim did with a small smile, “Someone from out of Gotham might try to argue he’s just going through different moods, but he’s Batman . I’d bet a lot of money that it’s different people, cause there’s no way he’s capable of having multiple moods,” The notetaking moved onto a different page, and Tim was starting to get concerned for the other boy’s pencil. Laughter erupted in the group in front of Tim and startled him out of his train of thought, “You probably figured all that though, living in Gotham.” 

“I’ve legit never heard of this,” Bernard’s serious tone almost made Tim burst out in laughter, but he somehow managed to keep it to a small smile, “It makes sense though, how else could Batman have all his fancy technology? The only logical solution is multiple people pay for it.” 

“Excuse me? Are you two ready to order?” The cashier asked with a knowing smile on their face. 

Bernard gestured for Tim to go, “Uh, Jason told me to ask Carol for his usual. He told me she’d know what that means.” 

“Yep! Got it right here sir, have a nice day!” The cashier handed over a box of a dozen donuts and before Tim had the chance to leave she added with the same knowing smile, “You two make such a lovely couple by the way.” 

“Oh- we- um- uh-” 

Tim was thankfully (or not, depending on who you ask) saved when a radio in the corner crackled to life to announce in a very monotone voice, “ Joker attacks have started up in some southern parts of Crime Alley and northern parts of The Bowery. Batman has yet to arrive on the scene, and individuals are urged by the police to either seek appropriate shelter or to leave…”  

“Sorry, Bernard, I have to go,” Tim turned to the boy who was scribbling down something on a piece of paper, and then shoving it into Tim’s hand. 

“Here, it’s my number,” Tim stared at the paper for a second, caught off guard, “Unless you don’t want to be in contact, I’d just like to know you’re making it home safe. With the Joker, and everything. You don’t have to-” 

“No- yeah, I’ll take it. Talk to you later, Bernard.” Tim shoved the paper into a secure pocket as he raced out of the store. When he had finally ran to a secure enough safehouse he changed into his suit. That night when Red Robin ran out he was hungry, low on caffeine, and ready to kick ass.

Chapter Text

“Good evening Red Robin,” Oracle’s voice crackled to life through Red Robin’s comm, “We believe Joker’s operation is originating from a warehouse in Robbinsville right on the edge of Cape Carmine. He was last seen entering the building after handing a comically large suitcase to Carmine Falcone who Batman, Spoiler, and Red Hood are currently trailing. You’ll be working with Robin, Nightwing, and Black Bat as backup. Batwoman’s on her way but it’ll take her a while.” 

“Aye aye, Capt’n,” Red Robin saluted the nearest security camera. He jumped off the nearest building ledge and swan dove, before soaring through the air with his grapple. 

Red Robin eventually landed on the fire escape of a building right next to Robin, Nightwing, and Black Bat. Today his lungs seem smaller, making him stop in the few places in Gotham where the cameras don’t reach to gasp for air. Everytime he stopped he wondered if it was worth it, keeping such a secret from the family, but each time he remembered their disbelief in him. Jason barely even apologized for trying to kill him.  

“Why does he always need to be late?” Robin demanded, turning to an exasperated Nightwing, “Red Robin is too incompetent for this work, why do you still insist on humoring him and letting him run around in a suit he hasn’t even earned.” 

“Oracle said he’s on his way, for now we just need to be patient,” Nightwing sighed as Robin crossed his arms and huffed. 

Be nice to RR, Black Bat signed. She hesitated, then turned to Nightwing to complete her sentence, I think he’s going through something. 

Robin rolled his eyes and stepped forwards, “Something as in a quarter-life crisis? That isn’t new news, Black Bat.” 

The bat shook her head and looked around the rooftops before leaning in and signing, He doesn’t seem truly happy. I could just be wrong though, no one is happy to give up the Robin mantle. He might just be thinking about that. We all know how it went down, and wasn’t the most pleasant send off for him. 

Red Robin slunk back a few buildings to make it seem like he’s just arriving. He shook his head to try to forget the faces of both Nightwing and Black Bat with an upset look on their faces, and a pondering look on Robin’s. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late, some kids in crime alley ‘got lost’ and led me directly to a mob of kids that just wanted a couple autographs. Barely made it out with my life,” Red Robin panted out, hoping that it was a believable explanation as to why he was so out of breath. 

“It’s alright, Red!” Nightwing’s smile looked so cheerful and genuine it almost distracted Red Robin from the death glare sent his way by a kid that looks like he’s going through a very dark emo phase, “We at least had time to make a small plan.” 

Nightwing and Red Robin slipped through a door barely hanging on its hinges in a corner of the warehouse under a broken light. They slunk behind some cardboard boxes to watch as the pasty face of the Joker commanded a dozen men in plastic, dollar tree clown masks. 

“Put the box there, boys!” Joker’s cackle echoed around the almost empty warehouse, which exaggerated the huge tub of toxic chemicals in the middle of the room with ’Ace Chemicals’ written in large font on its side. 

Red Robin faintly registered Nightwing informing Black Bat and Robin of the Ace Chemicals while he scanned the scene. 

“Twenty-five boxes, twelve workers, five armed guards, one Joker, and a partridge in a pear tree,” Red Robin informed his comm. 

Nightwing gave him an odd look, “Red, I just said that. You feeling alright?”

 “Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry I zoned out,” Red Robin looked closer at the guys in clown masks that were starting to bring out chairs and setting them in front of the toxic chemicals.

Robin spoke up in his normal snippy tone, “You shouldn't fight against the Joker if you're compromised. I don't want to hear you complain all of your time benched because you're an idiot.“ 

”I’ll be fine, Robin. We've all fought in worse conditions,“ Tim rolled his eyes when Robin clicked his tongue, ”Ready to take them down, Nightwing?“ 

”I was born ready,“ Nightwing gave Red Robin a wolfish grin before they both jumped out from behind the crates and started to fight the masked clowns. 

The workers went down fairly easy, their fight was almost consumed by the cackle Joker was letting out as he started to dart towards a platform above the tub of chemicals. Red Robin and Nightwing split up, Red Robin opting for the five guards currently shooting at him, while Nightwing went after the Joker. 

Sound bounced off the walls and ceiling, intensifying the gunshots, and amplifying Nightwing and Joker’s conversation. 

“Haven't we been here before, Joker?” Red Robin stole a gun from one of the men and used it to shoot his friend in the leg, keeping an ear out while Nightwing spoke, “I thought you weren't supposed to repeat jokes.” 

“I know I shouldn't,” Joker laughed as Red Robin took down another one of his followers, “but this one is just so funny!”

Nightwing and Joker continued to talk, teetering near the edge of the top of Ace Chemicals. Batman was called in by Oracle, and at this point they just needed to stall for another 15 minutes until he would be arriving. By now, Red Robin had already taken down most of the men, with 2 workers left that uselessly swung baseball bats around (the bats were even decorated with Harley Quinn’s signature), and two guards who were so inexperienced they were scrambling to reload their guns. 

Red Robin was panting and blinking through black spots in his vision by the time he had taken down his last guy. To catch his breath he bent over to put his hands on his knees, dropping his bo staff in the process. He spared a glance up to see Joker taking random swings with a dagger at Nightwing who was flipping through the air. 

Just when Red Robin fully believed all of his adversaries were taken down was when three more jumped out of seemingly nowhere clad in more cheap Halloween clown masks. They all held guns and Red Robin eyed his bo staff with envy as he swayed slightly on his feet. 

Despite his current situation, his fists shakily made their way into a fighting position as he assessed the following fight. 

It was going to be difficult, these men clearly stepped away to avoid friendly fire, so they were more experienced than the last group. The clown wannabes all formed a circle as best they could around Red Robin.

Red Robin knew he messed up earlier which made the fight drag on longer. If he finished with these guys quickly, then the chances of Batman or Nightwing not yelling at him would be better. 

Red Robin saw one of the men make the first mistake, stepping close enough for him to kick the hand holding the gun into the air so he could disarm him.

Once the guy was down and his gun was kicked away, Red Robin went after the second man. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the last man aim his gun at his fight. 

Red Robin stood in front of the second guy, pretending to struggle with him. If he was right with his guess on their intelligence levels, the last clown should try to shoot Red Robin while he's “scuffling”. If all goes well, he’ll jump out of the way in time for the bullet to hit the second guy, and when he falls, his gun goes off and shoots the last guy. 

It shouldn't take more than a minute, and will help get the Joker back in Arkham and his men back to their slightly less secure jail cells. (Considering this could be Tim’s last fight alongside his family, he’ll take the smallest wins he can get). 

”Red Robin watch out!“ Robin shouted, jumping down from the rafters and throwing two batarangs at the last clown, successfully disarming and knocking him out. 

Red Robin swore for a number of reasons. First, Robin’s element of surprise jerked the man’s hand up, up, up right where he could get the lucky shot of right in the back of Nightwing’s calf. 

Second, because the last man hadn’t had a chance to aim a shot at the second guy, he was able to shoot Red Robin in his arm. Because he was close enough, the bullet also went straight through, giving Red Robin both an entrance and exit wound to patch up.

Third, Robin’s interference distracted Red Robin and Nightwing just enough for the Joker and the second guy with the gun to run off. 

Fourth, Red Robin knows he’s going to be blamed for this. He can already hear Batman’s angry voice yelling and giving him a headache for a problem he didn't start. 

Lastly, the stab at his confidence hurt almost more than the bullet wound.