Chapter Text
It started like many of Tim’s problems recently, with Jason.
He was nosey for lack of a better word.
The sunk-haired teenager had been digging around Tim’s intricately decorated garden and disrupting everything.
“What are you doing?”
Tim didn’t look up from the Batcomputer. “Updating files.”
“Didn’t Goldie tell you to get to bed?”
Scoffing, Tim didn’t even bother looking up. “He can’t tell me what to do.”
“He’s the older brother,” Jason said, derision only mild. “Of course he tells you what to do.”
Tim rolled his eyes at that. “He’s not my older brother.”
Jason was silent for a moment, which should have been the first warning sign.
“You know, for a guy who barely listens to orders, you sure love writing them down.”
Tim didn’t stop typing. “Maybe I don’t need orders spelled out for me.”
Jason snorted. “Right. You just know better, huh?”
Finally, Tim paused, his hands still hovering over the keyboard. “What do you want, Jason?”
“I want to know how you get away with it,” Jason said, leaning forward. “You act like you’re their equal, but you’re not. You’re a sidekick, same as me, same as Dick. So why the hell does Bruce let you do whatever you want? And why does Dick let you talk to him like that?”
Tim finally caved at glanced at Jason. His eyes were faintly glowing green, but he looked like he was in control.
Still, Tim readied his weapon in case he might need it.
“We aren’t the same, Jason.” Tim glared at the older teen. “And if you have to ask why then maybe that’s your problem.”
Jason took a practiced breath in before his gaze focused on Tim again. “You’re trying to piss me off on purpose. Answer the question.”
Of course Jason would care about the stupidest things. He was petty like that.
“We’re not the same.” Tim repeated, this time biting out the words far more bitterly than he intended. He paused, collecting himself. “Dick was chosen, you were chosen.” Tim waved a hand at him. “But I didn’t get Robin because I listened to Bruce. I didn’t give Bruce a choice.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed, glow growing. “What do you mean?”
Tim leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “It means I didn’t show up because they wanted me.” His eyes narrowed. “I showed up because they needed me.”
“So, what?” Jason asked, scoffing as he moved a bit closer. “They needed a snot-nosed brat and you delivered?”
“They needed to not kill themselves,” Tim snapped before he could think better. “I didn’t become Robin, I stole Robin.”
Jason stared at him. “You decided the best way to fix two grown adult men was to take a dead kid’s uniform?”
Tim glared at him, ignoring the instinct to flinch. “Robin is more than you Jason, and you weren’t the first one who had that costume. Robin isn’t yours.”
“So you thought you should have it?!” Jason sounded hysterical, voice raising as his eyes glowed like nuclear suns.
“It wasn’t a decision,” Tim snapped. “It was a necessity.”
Jason smiled, an expression that was all teeth. “And you’re so humble about it too!”
“I didn’t do this for me!” Tim raised his voice as well. “They were destroying Gotham with their grief!” He closed his eyes, fists clenching, as he forced himself to take a deep breath in. “Robin is the balance to Batman, and Gotham needed someone to step in.”
“Because you’re clearly the superior option.” Jason said with a sneer.
“I was the only option.” Tim said, trying to keep his voice level.
With a cruel laugh, Jason leaned forward. “What? So that makes you better than us? Above us lesser beings?”
Tim felt his cheeks flush with anger. “I don’t think I’m better than anyone!”
Jason’s grin widened, a sharp edge cutting into his words. “Oh, really? Because that’s sure what it sounds like, Replacement.”
Tim shot to his feet, the chair screeching against the floor as it skidded back. “Don’t call me that,” he bit out, voice trembling not with fury.
“Why not?” Jason taunted, stepping closer. “That’s what you are, isn’t it? Just the kid Bruce scraped up to fill the hole I left behind.”
“I didn’t fill your hole,” Tim snapped, standing his ground. “You think I could replace you? Replace Dick? I couldn’t even replace him.” His voice cracked, and he hated how raw it sounded, how exposed he felt.
Jason paused, his sneer faltering for a fraction of a second. “Then why—”
“Because no one else was doing it!” Tim shouted, the words tearing out of him like a wound finally bursting open. “You died, and Dick walked away, and Bruce—he—” He faltered, swallowing hard. “Bruce was killing himself every night out there. He didn’t care if he lived or died, and Gotham was going with him.”
Jason blinked, startled by the sudden outpouring of emotion, but Tim wasn’t done.
“So yeah, I put on the stupid suit, and yeah, I made myself Robin. Not because I thought I deserved it, or because I wanted to be a hero, but because someone had to stop Bruce from getting himself killed. And maybe that’s not something you’ll ever understand, but I’m not apologizing for it.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them, the tension thick and suffocating. Jason’s glowing eyes flickered, and he finally looked away, his voice quieter but no less bitter. “That’s quite a story, Replacement. But you still don’t get it.”
Tim scoffed, throwing his arms up in frustration. “What don’t I get, Jason? Enlighten me.”
“You don’t get what it’s like to matter to Bruce,” Jason said, voice tight. “Not like I did. Not like Dick did. You don’t know what it’s like to have him look at you like you’re the most important thing in his world, and then have it ripped away.”
Tim froze, the words hitting like a physical blow. Jason’s gaze was fixed on the floor now, his fists clenched at his sides.
“You think you’re the glue holding everything together?” Jason continued, his voice low and venomous. “Newsflash, kid: you’re not. You’re just another cog in the machine, same as the rest of us. And one day, when you stop being useful, he’ll throw you away, too.”
Tim’s jaw tightened, but his voice was steady when he replied. “You’re wrong.”
Jason looked up sharply, his glowing eyes narrowing. “Am I?”
“Yes,” Tim said firmly, stepping forward. “He’s not perfect, Jason, and yeah, he screws up a lot, but he cares.”
Jason’s laughter was bitter and hollow. “Keep telling yourself that, Replacement. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”
“I already do,” Tim said quietly, but with conviction. “And deep down, I think you do too.”
Jason’s expression faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his face before he masked it with anger. “You don’t know a void thing about me.”
“Maybe not,” Tim admitted. “But I know Bruce. And I know he’s trying. You just don’t want to see it.”
Jason’s jaw worked, his fists clenching and unclenching as he struggled for a retort. But before he could speak, a voice cut through the tension like a knife.
“What’s going on in here?”
Both boys turned to see Dick standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a frown etched across his face. His eyes flicked between them, taking in the scene: Jason’s glowing eyes, Tim’s flushed face, and the palpable anger hanging in the air.
Jason scoffed, stepping back. “Nothing, Goldie. Just reminding Replacement where he stands.”
Dick’s frown deepened, but his voice was calm as he said, “Jason, I think you’ve made your point. Let it go.”
Jason’s gaze lingered on Tim for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he turned and stalked out of the room without another word.
Dick sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before turning to Tim. “You okay?”
Tim nodded, though he didn’t quite meet Dick’s eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Dick didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. “Alright. But if you need to talk…”
“I know,” Tim said, his voice soft but steady. “Thanks.”
Dick hesitated, then nodded and left, leaving Tim alone in the now-silent cave. Tim sank back into his chair, staring at the Batcomputer but not really seeing it.