Chapter Text
Robin knew he had made a mistake when Bruce smacked him in the face, causing his own rebreather to land on the floor with a clunk. Robin held his breath, hoping he could at the very least reduce the amount of fear gas he inhaled.
“Batman is compromised; requesting batmobile and backup,” Robin radioed. After double checking to make sure Crane hadn’t decided to linger like a creep, Tim used a bit of his demigod strength to haul a sobbing Batman out of the fear gas filled warehouse.
“Heard, Robin. ETA is seven minutes. What’s his state?” Nightwing calmly asked. Tim grimaced as Bruce continued to wail.
“Grieving and inconsolable from fear gas. Not overly combative, but resistant to being moved. I can’t restrain him well enough by myself to get the autoinjector under a piece of armor.” Tim dodged another wild swing from Bruce as he dragged him closer to the warehouse exit.
“Rodger dodger. O, please tell Agent A to prep the med bay.” Tim finally got Bruce through the warehouse doors, heart pounding from exertion. Soon enough, the batmobile pulled into the street and Nightwing hopped out and started to assist in hauling Bruce into the car.
Tim suddenly paused in his tracks, catching sight of something on the roof. It was Ms. Mac, dressed in her work clothes. Tim forced himself to go back to the task at hand, trying to reassure himself it was a fear gas hallucination. The sound of wings flapping towards him ruined that train of thought and he stumbled away from Bruce and Nightwing.
“Robin?” Nightwing questioned as he finally shoved Bruce into the batmobile and engaged the child safety lock. Tim considered his options. Best case scenario was that Ms. Mac was a hallucination. Worst case scenario was that Ms. Mac realized Tim Drake and Robin had the same scent. Nightwing cautiously took a step towards Robin. Tim took a step back. Dick cursed under his breath, realizing that Robin wasn’t wearing a rebreather. The young man tried to soften his stature as best he could without compromising his ability to leap into action.
“Hey buddy, you got hit with fear gas. You’re seeing some pretty scary stuff, right? Try to focus on me; we can fix the scary stuff back home,” he coaxed. Tim’s eyes flicked between Ms. Mac and Dick, trying to see if she had the telltale signs of being a hallucination. It was too dark for her to cast a shadow, and it wouldn’t be unusual for her outline to be inconsistent due to the way the Mist worked. Her wings unfurled from her back and Tim took another step backwards.
“Robin, I promise I’ll protect you from the threat, just please come back with me,” pleaded Dick. Tim tried to find the best course of action; he decided to be a bit risky.
“Do you see her?” Tim whispered as he pointed at the top of the building where Ms. Mac watched Robin with hunger in her eyes.
“Who is that, Baby Bird?” Nightwing asked, his volume dropping to match Tim’s.
“She tried to kill me,” he rasped. “She’s just standing there, watching us. She watched me for twelve years before she tried to kill me. I know there’s a chance she’s a hallucination this time, but I don’t want to risk it.”
“I don’t see anyone on top of the building, buddy. You’re right; she’s a hallucination,” Nightwing reassured. There was a chance Ms. Mac just wasn’t visible to Dick; he couldn’t risk it. It was a stupid plan. Time for a better one.
“You’re right, she—” As soon as Dick’s posture relaxed at Tim’s false agreement, Tim was off like a shot, swinging through Gotham as fast he could while staying out of camera sight lines to make it difficult for Oracle to track him. With a small, controlled pulse of darkness, he also short circuited any trackers on his person.
He led Dick and Ms. Mac on a wild goose chase through the city and eventually managed to lose them both. He landed on a rooftop and allowed himself to catch his breath for a moment. Dick would eventually look for him again once he got Bruce situated and there was a chance Ms. Mac would pick up on his scent again. He needed a place to hide.
Florian’s apartment was out of the question; he didn’t want to lead Dick or Ms. Mac to him. He didn’t want to shed his fake face and go as Alvin in case Ms. Mac realized Alvin smelled the same as Tim and started going after him when he wore that face as well. He could at least prevent Dick from finding him. Tim began to swing towards Monarch Theater.
Bruce always avoided Monarch Theater, even as Batman. Because of that, Dick never really went there either and the fact the theater was now in Red Hood’s territory compounded it. It was a welcome Bat blind spot.
Tim found an opening and slithered his way into the decrepit theater. He took up post by a crack that allowed him to see the majority of the alley below and was next to an exit that faced north, deeper into crime alley. Tim sat there for a while, trying his best to keep his breathing and heartrate under control. The sound of boots entering through his exit ruined his progress and he immediately dropped into a fighting stance, hands ready to grab harpy feathers or batarangs.
“Relax, it’s just me,” Red Hood said as he held up his hands in surrender. Tim dropped out of his fighting stance but found himself unable to lose the tension in his body.
“Why are you here?” Tim ground out.
“I should be asking you that. I’m here because one of my employees spotted Robin entering my territory. I want to make sure there aren’t any Bat operations done without my knowledge or permission,” he answered casually.
“There aren’t any, so you can leave now,” Tim crossed his arms and tried to look intimidating. Jason paused at the action before he removed his helmet and took a seat on the floor.
“Nah, I was planning on taking a break anyways. Might as well take it here,” he shrugged. Tim rolled his eyes before he went back to his routine of counting his breaths and occasionally looking out into the alley through the crack.
“What are we on the lookout for?” Jason asked languidly from his seat on the floor.
“The harpy that knows my face spotted me on patrol; I’m worried she figured out I’m Robin,” Tim answered as he stole another glance out the crack. Jason hummed in acknowledgment.
“That sucks; I thought you would have killed her by now.”
“Dusting a monster doesn’t mean you killed it; they just get sent back to Tartarus. They can get back topside in less than a week or take as long as a century,” Tim corrected with a huff of annoyance.
“That makes everything so much more difficult,” Jason muttered before lapsing into silence. It didn’t last long, as a ping from his helmet ended the silence and Tim flinched at the sudden sound. Jason’s eyes narrowed at the action before he put on his helmet to read the message. After he read it, he took his helmet back off.
“How are Batman and Nightwing handling Scarecrow tonight without you to help?” he asked, leaning back on his arms.
“Batman got hit with fear gas and is currently being treated at the Batcave,” Tim shrugged.
“You and Wing managed to avoid it?”
“Batman knocked my rebreather off in his panic before we could leave the fear gas filled warehouse, but the amount I breathed in is minimal. Just an elevated heartrate and paranoia. Wing was patrolling the streets while we handled Dr. Crane.”
“Even if it’s minimal, you should still be treated for it,” Jason reasoned.
“Can’t,” Tim denied vehemently. “Harpy could find me on the way to the cave. If she finds me out in the open and I have to use celestial bronze weapons, every monster in Gotham would know Robin is a demigod by sunrise.”
“I can escort you to the cave and if she finds you, I can use my swords,” Jason suggested. Tim hesitated before he shook his head again, a voice cautioning him against the idea.
“I don’t…No. It’s a bad idea for me to be around Bats if they think you’re crazy.”
“You sound like you’re saying you’re not a Bat,” Jason said with a raised eyebrow.
“I’ll always be a demigod before a Bat. Alfred and Dick think I’m a murderer, Jason. Bruce locked up Third in Arkham because saying monsters killed two kids does not hold up in court. I can’t be around them if there’s a chance I act irrationally or to monsters.” Jason did a double take.
“Alfie and Dick think you are a murderer. You. The golden child. A murderer.”
“The harpy that follows me tried to kill me in my own house when I was twelve and Dick found the insurance photos I submitted for the blood-soaked floors. He thinks I killed an intruder in self-defense,” Tim shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot.
“Jesus Christ,” Jason sighed and ran a hand over his face. “New plan: I escort you to the cave and stay to make sure they don’t step out of line. Deal?” Tim hesitated before he nodded. Jason stood, cracking his back as he did so. Tim cautiously approached him, suddenly feeling awkward. Jason held out his leather jacket.
“This should help mask your smell, right?” Tim hesitantly nodded before he slipped it on. Jason led Tim onto his bike and gave him a spare helmet. He shoved it onto his head before sitting behind Jason and wrapping his arms around his chest. Jason peeled out of the alley as soon as he knew Tim was secure.
---
They were about halfway through the main tunnel that led to the Batcave when Tim heard the familiar hum of the Nightcycle.
“Nightwing’s approaching; can’t tell if he’s in front or behind us because of the echo,” Tim leaned forward and informed Jason.
“You and your freaky hearing. Of course you can hear an electric bike that’s designed to be silent,” Jason muttered under his breath before he realized Tim could probably hear what he was saying. Jason slowed to a stop and popped the kickstand. He stood next to his bike with his arms crossed, looking down the tunnel. Nightwing soon rounded the corner, coming from the same way Jason and Tim did. Before Nightwing could deck Hood, Tim removed his helmet. Nightwing screeched to a stop at the sight of him.
“Tim!” he shouted, relief clear in his voice. He got off his bike and began to walk towards him. “Let’s get you to the med bay and treated; I’m so glad you came back.” He turned to Jason. “Thanks for bringing him back home, Hood,” he said as if Jason was a coworker and not his little brother. “I can take it from here—”
“Nope,” Jason interrupted, popping the p. “I’m staying until little birdy over here is fully treated.” Tim relaxed a bit at Jason’s words. Tim knew Jason said he would stay as he got treated, but there was still the ever-present doubt he would leave. Dick hesitated before nodding and allowed Tim to ride with Jason into the Batcave.
When they entered the Batcave, Tim stiffened. Ms. Mac was standing in the center of the med bay in her full harpy form, talons and all. Jason didn’t react to her appearance, so Tim tried to reassure himself it was a hallucination.
Jason and Dick hopped off their bikes and waited for Tim to do the same. He shook his head.
“I know she’s not real, but she’s standing in the center of the med bay,” he muttered, the tips of his ears flaring red in embarrassment.
“No biggie,” Dick reassured. “We can treat you here.” Tim nodded and hopped off Jason’s bike.
“Is she doing anything?” Jason leaned over to ask as Dick walked towards the med bay to inform Alfred of the current situation.
“She’s just standing there, but. Um. She looks like an actual harpy and not the human that worked for my parents for the first decade of my life,” Tim whispered. Jason nodded in acknowledgment as Dick returned with medical supplies.
Tim offered up an arm and Dick wiped the area down with an alcohol wipe before taking a blood sample. He efficiently bandaged the arm and took the sample back to the med bay.
“Still not doing anything besides looking ugly?” Jason asked. Tim nodded in confirmation. Dick started to make his way back with an autoinjector in hand when Ms. Mac started to fly towards him, talons aimed at his jugular.
“Jason, she’s coming for me,” Tim choked out as he shot to his feet, looking for the best way out. Jason did not summon his magical flaming swords and turn Ms. Mac into dust. No, Jason decided to betray Tim.
“Alfie, lockdown the cave!” he shouted as he attempted to grab one of Tim’s arms. Tim whirled away from him and booked it towards one of the cave walls. He was halfway to the wall, when he was tackled from behind by Jason. Tim immediately began to writhe out of his grip, slowly making progress in escaping. During his struggle he felt a prick in his neck which caused him to panic enough that he flung Jason off of him with pure brute strength. Tim immediately resumed sprinting towards the cave wall, and he managed to reach it without any further interference. He scrambled up with ease despite his current state, reaching a ledge and looking down below.
---
Jason clutched his broken arm as he slowly got up, cursing under his breath.
“Please tell me you got him before he threw me,” Jason grunted. The look on Dick’s face did not give him hope.
“I did, but…” he trailed off and pointed up towards a high ledge. Jason squinted against the darkness and managed to pick out a face peering down at them.
“Well, fuck,” Jason muttered. “How did he manage to do that?”
“I watched him do it and I still have no idea. We need to figure out how to get him down before he falls off.”
“Can’t you climb up and get him? You’re the climber of the family,” Jason pointed out.
“I climbed chandeliers, not walls,” Dick grumbled. “Grapples are out of the question because the rock is too fragile.”
“I thought Bruce was going to reinforce them at some point so that they would be safe to grapple,” Jason frowned.
“Yeah, he tried that and got too frustrated about the rock composition. He would have had to knock down the entire wall if he wanted more grappling space and he wasn’t willing to do that.”
“Well, the little shit broke my arm, so I’m going to fix that while you drag mats under him so that he doesn’t scramble his brain on the floor.” Jason trudged over to the med bay, not waiting for Dick to answer. He started to open drawers, cursing at the new organization system Bruce apparently switched over to when Alfred appeared next to him like a wraith.
“Allow me to assist, Master Jason,” he offered. Jason held out his arm and allowed Alfred to wrap it.
“Were Dick and I this stressful when we were Robin?” he groused.
“Yes,” Alfred said without hesitation. “Though I will say, Master Tim has a certain knack for getting himself into situations where it’s difficult for others to assist. Do you want your usual red color for your cast?”
“Yeah, red would be great, Alf,” Jason answered, a pang of nostalgia and sadness echoing through his chest. Tim and Dick were shouting at each other as Alfred wrapped his arm and it sounded like Tim was winning. “Tim’s like a cat stuck in a tree,” Jason muttered. He suddenly perked up when he thought of a way to get Tim down.
---
Tim managed to shoo Dick away for the time being, but it now felt like the world was swirling around him. He was white knuckling the ledge at this point, determined to not fall. Ms. Mac was gone for the time being, but that was now the least of Tim’s worries: he was now stuck in the Batcave with vigilantes who thought he was crazy. Gods, he was going to Arkham for a very long time.
One of the cave doors opened and before Tim could even entertain the thought of escape, a blur sped in and the doors immediately started closing again. A very annoying and familiar face smiled at him.
“Hello, Tim,” greeted Clark in his flannel pajamas, eye-level with him. Tim glared at the too cheery man in front of him.
“I’m not going.”
“I’m told you were hit with fear gas, so you don’t really have a choice,” Clark awkwardly shrugged.
“I will hurt you,” he growled. That caused Clark to hesitate and he quickly assessed Tim.
“You don’t have any kryptonite on you.”
“I have magical knives,” Tim countered. He resisted the urge to reach for his pouch of harpy feathers and stick Clark right then and there.
“Duly noted. I’m just gonna…” he grabbed Tim’s wrists with his hands and was surprised when Tim held steadfast to the ledge. Tim started to kick at Clark, which turned out to be a mistake because he grabbed his leg and started to pull him off the ledge that way.
Forgoing holding onto the ledge at all, Tim managed to punch Clark and when his fist landed, Tim sent out a whisp of darkness to blind him. Clark managed to grab the hand that punched him, but Tim used his free hand to reach into his pouch to grab a feather and slice the hand Clark was using to restrain Tim’s wrist. He let go out of reflex and Tim began to fall.
Clark managed to snatch him out of the air despite his blindness and Tim lashed out wildly at Clark with the feather. Clark shifted his hold to be more restrictive, slowly applying more pressure to the hand clutching the feather.
“I need a sedative!” Clark called out. Tim continued to thrash, even when he felt his utility belt and feather removed from his hand.
“I won’t! I won’t go to Arkham! Just let me go and you’ll never have to see me again! I didn’t kill anyone and I never will, I promise!” he started to sob. He was vaguely aware of voices trying to talk and soothe him, but Tim didn’t hear any of it. He continued to plead and sob until darkness claimed him.
---
Tim groaned as he came to, tears already dripping down the side of his face. Restraints encircled each limb of his body, and he started to audibly sob when he smelled the antiseptic. Someone was at his side immediately, trying to soothe him with lies.
“It’s okay, you’re recovering from fear gas, you’re just in the med bay. You’re safe; you’re just having a bad reaction to the antidote and Alfred is working very hard to fix it.” Tim continued to cry.
“Please don’t keep me here, I can still be Robin. I can still be good before I go bad. I don’t want to go bad. I promise I haven’t gone bad, yet; I’ll go to Arkham when I need to, but please don’t send me there so soon,” he pleaded. A conversation happened above him and the restraints loosened. He was scooped into someone’s lap, and they began to rub soothing circles into his back. Tim threw his arms around the stranger and buried his face in their shoulder, soaking their shirt with his tears.
“You’re so so good at being Robin, baby bird. As soon as you’re healed, you’re going back out as Robin,” the stranger lied in a sweet voice. Tim shook his head against their shoulder, spreading his snot and tears.
“Liar. That’s what they told Florian when they put him in Arkham. You can’t fix us because there’s nothing fucking broken. You’ll just drug us until we’re so out of it we get killed or leave us to rot in a cell without a weapon to defend ourselves with. Gods, there’s a chance you’ve killed more of us than monsters. Please don’t make me another statistic,” he sobbed. There was another exchange above him, more heated than the last one.
“Timmy, can you look up at me?” the stranger coaxed. Tim looked up, the sight of Dick Grayson clear despite the blur of tears. “There those baby blues are,” he smiled. Tim hiccupped another sob. “Tim, even if you killed ten times as many people as Jason,” an offended squawk escaped said man somewhere close to Tim. “I swear I will never send you Arkham.” Tim squeezed his eyes shut and buried himself against Dick’s chest, chanting Liar, liar, liar, liar over and over again into his shirt until he succumbed to darkness once again. No new conversations were had above him.
---
Tim was vaguely aware something bad happened before he fell asleep. His eyes were crusty, the inside of his mouth tasted like something died in it, and there was an undercurrent of anxiety that ran through his chest. He cracked open his eyes and saw Bruce slumped asleep in a chair across from his bed. Tim slowly started to get up, mildly surprised to find his left hand wrapped in bandages.
The hypervigilance that sang through his body did not abate and Tim scanned his room, looking for the best defensible position. His eyes landed on the bookshelf that contained his books on various mythologies. He scaled it with ease and perched on top of it, content with his position.
Eventually the sound of an argument began to approach the door, and Bruce woke up with a start. He leapt to his feet when he saw Tim’s empty bed, only relaxing when he spotted the young boy perched on top of the bookcase. There was a sudden shushing behind the doors before it opened and Dick and Jason entered the room.
They both paled when they didn’t see Tim in bed but relaxed after Bruce pointed at Tim. Tim gave a small wave with his good hand.
“Why did you let him climb the bookshelf after what happened last night?” Dick demanded.
“He was already up there when I woke up,” Bruce huffed. Jason looked at Tim, mildly impressed.
“So, you’re saying the kid managed to sneak past a sleeping Batman?” Jason asked.
“I was still recovering from fear gas,” Bruce said, mildly offended.
“Either way, it’s impressive. Hey Timbo, do you offer lessons on how to sneak past the big bad Bat?” Tim gave a noncommittal shrug, not wanting to speak. The three adults took notice of his silence, exchanging glances between each other.
“Why don’t we go to the kitchen and eat something, chum,” Bruce suggested. Tim shook his head, not wanting to leave his spot. Jason stepped closer to the bookshelf and Tim didn’t react other than keeping a tired eye on him.
“Why do you like high places? Do you enjoy the feeling of being tall for once?” Jason joked.
“’s safer,” Tim answered in a whispered rasp. “Most things don’t look up and even if they do, they can’t get you. There aren’t a lot of things that can hurt you if you get up high,” Tim shrugged. Jason grinned.
“I have an idea; we’ll carry you to the kitchen on our shoulders. I would do it because I’m the tallest, but I broke my arm and Bruce has more metal than bone in his spine at this point. So, that means the honor goes to the smallest big brother,” Jason grinned. Dick shot him an annoyed look before giving Tim a small smile. Tim thought about Jason’s proposal for a moment and hesitantly nodded. Dick offered up his back to Tim and soon Tim was secure around Dick’s shoulders. Tim had to duck under the door frame when they left his bedroom, but Tim still counted it as a win.
The next obstacle was the kitchen itself. When Dick tried to pass under it, Tim grasped the edge of the wall, preventing him from going in and nearly choking the man in the process.
“What makes the kitchen dangerous?” Jason asked. Tim bit the inside of his cheek, anxiety nearly preventing him from being able to speak.
“Too open. Too many possible ways for something to enter and if you have to run away it can easily chase you. I. Um. There’s also…” Tim took a breath, trying to regain his composure as a few tears escaped him. “It also reminds me of blood,” he managed to say. He turned his gaze to his hands and began to pick at the dirt trapped under his nails.
“Breakfast while we watch movies!” Dick cheered and started to walk towards the home theater, forcing Jason and Bruce to play catch-up. The resulting meal was the first time Bruce, Dick, and Jason ate together since Jason’s death. That breakfast was the start of new beginnings.