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Sometimes, it was hard to see the similarities between Tim and Odysseus. Sometimes, it was hard not to see them.
But it wasn't often that they got to see the spirit inhabiting Tim's body affect him physically in a positive way.
They all remember the first time they all found out. The curse. Odysseus. The owl and Tim's flinching.
It wouldn't be the last time.
Occasionally, Tim would breathe so hard you'd think he was drowning.
Others, you'd see him limp but he'd wave you off as if nothing was wrong. No injuries or blood lining his skin.
But this? This wasn't like that. This was different.
Duke sees the door open out of the corner of his eye. Shadows stretching long from the bright light outside. Noise filtering into the silent sitting room.
You'd think the room empty. But no. Everyone was here. Silent. Still.
Duke's hands itched to do something. Anything. A weapon.
But the door opens and Tim's voice filters in before he comes into view and Duke tenses.
"Yes, Tam. I kno-"
The room falls silent once again in an instant.
Tim's gaze is locked on his family. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Duke, Cass, Damian. Friends too. Oliver and Roy. Babs and Zatanna.
All silent. All still. Tim as well now.
Duke can see Damian's fists clench and the goon’s hands tighten on his shoulder a knife in the off hand presenting a real threat. Damian doesn't flinch but Tim sees the motion anyway.
"I'm gonna have to call you back"
The voice is calm. And that's the first sign of danger that Duke spots. Because it's Tim speaking. But there's something echoing in his voice. Something or someone else
"This is a ransom demand" one of the goons speaks, voice clear and full of false bravado. There’s a shake to his voice that speaks of desperation and fear. Amateur. However, his hands are clasped to Cass' upper arms, holding her still. She'd refused to stand down quietly.
Tim's eyes fall on her and his keys drop to the floor with a clatter.
"I see we have made our point" the spokesperson continues. And Duke agrees. They make quite a statement. The Wayne family brought to their knees by random attackers. But then, it was harder to predict amateurs, wasn't it?
Duke sees something in Tim's stance shift as the spokesperson straightens their spine. A display.
"Hold them down"
And something in Tim's eyes shatter as he takes a deep breath.
It's in an instant that Tim takes in the guard to his right, a gun pointed in Tim’s direction (The only gun in the room. Real amateurs), and acts.
The guard goes down heavy and the gun goes from a loose grip of an inexperienced kidnapper to the hands of a Bat. Gun or not. Tim's hands fumble for a moment like he's expecting something else. But his aim is true. The lights in the chandelier go out in an instant as a shot rings out in the sudden darkness.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" One of the goons demand, loudly into the darkness. "We still have your siblings"
A second shot and the man falls back, gasping in a sucking breath as his back makes contact with the table behind him, his shoulder blown out of socket by a bullet.
There's silence. Nobody daring to breathe.
But there's a single inhale.
And a single exhale.
"I. Have had. Enough"
It's not Tim's voice that says it. But it's Tim's lips that move. Duke knows that, can see Tim's silhouette in the darkness as the goons fumble for flashlights. Can see him moving in tandem with the brighter silhouette generally caged to his ribs, clinging to him like a drowning victim.
And then, Tim's gone again even as the flashlights in the room light, illuminating beams of white against the shadows. But the manor is dark and dreary, the light muffled more than it is reflecting. Besides, Duke’s right here.
He focuses on the shadows and the light and the contrast of light itself seems to sharpen. To the point that even Duke has to squint to see Tim in the darkness. The shadows deep and dark in the manor in the way that screams Bat. And yet, this is anything but.
Another shot rings out and someone in the darkness yells. Duke recognizes the voice of the man who had held a knife to Damian’s side just moments ago.
One of the flashlights fall to the ground, illuminating shiny black work boots for just a moment before they’re gone again before some idiot can take a swing into nothing.
"Keep your heads down!" someone orders.
"I thought they were supposed to be a family of airheads!" someone else to Duke's left protests, the light beams backing up slightly from where Tim had just been. A third person scoffs “He’s always been more of a planner than his airhead guardian”.
There’s another shot and another beam of light falls to the floor before there’s the click of an empty magazine.
A soft curse in the shadows that Duke now knows to recognize as literal Greek. A grumble he can just barely hear.
"Better plan" One of the goons say, pulling Damian up by his hair from where he's still staring at where Tim was a moment ago, blinking and squinting, though his back is tense. Says he’s willing to fight if it comes down to it.
Duke watches as Damian realizes that he’s being used as bait and sees his Damian goes to fight, identity be damned (It’s not like it’ll do any good with this display anyway) and sees the grip of the goon’s hands fall.
Duke sees Damian twist and sees the butt of a gun make contact with the back of the goon's head from a distance.
"In my own home" Tim says echo still to his words. He's farther now. Toward a corner. But his voice doesn't sound that far and someone misses with a swing before he continues "Pathetic".
A "decorative" knife embeds itself into the last goon's shoulder as he grunts and Tim moves forward, moving to end. There’s enough shadow around him that even Duke can’t see if he has another weapon or not. But he comes to a stop and something lifts upward before the goon speaks.
"Mercy" the goon grunts. And Tim freezes. Holding the position, a tension in his form that Duke doesn’t recognize. His silhouette is strange, a form he doesn’t know.
But Duke can see as Tim stares down at the goon and Duke can see something happening inside his head.
A light starts flickering from the side as someone finally takes advantage of the brief reprieve and turns on another one of the lights that Tim hadn’t shot out and illuminates that Tim isn't as unarmed as they thought.
There’s a bow in his hand, string pulled back just slightly and his fingers clenched around the grip. A strung bow is in his hand. An arrow notched in place. But he's staring down at this goon like he's lost his head.
Tim's breathing evens.
He looks at Damian. Looks at Cass. Hesitates one more time.
"Ruthlessness" he says, drawing the bow to full strength, resting the arrow near his cheek and Duke can see both Oliver and Roy move to intercept. They won’t be fast enough, he knows. None of them will be.
"Is mercy"
The arrow flies as fast as a speeding bullet.
And there are no Supers present.
But it embeds itself a hair away from the goon's head with a loud thunk. Embedding itself into the wood flooring in a way that makes Duke wince at the thought of Alfred’s reaction to the damage.
Tim breathes. The light around his chest swirling. Blue eyes swirling with grey.
"Fortunately for you" he says, blue eyes almost glowing in the dark with a smile that could cut glass "My siblings are ruthless enough to do it themselves"
He turns, bow still in hand, his back now to his target in a display of carelessness that the goon makes to take advantage of. It’s a mistake
Damian doesn't waste the opportunity to lunge when the goon moves away from him.