Chapter Text
The hammer fell the hardest on the boy. It happened at the zenith of his master's madness, drowned in grief and nurtured in anger. His master was at his dangerous then. Yet the boy answered Alfred Pennyworth's call and though plagued by doubt and reluctance Red Robin fearlessly rushed into a monster's far-off castle to destroy all instruments of his surrogate father's lunacy, and taking for himself the pain of physical violence and the ache of a broken heart. And as if such pain wrought upon his person was lacking, the man he regarded as a father since he joined the Mission stripped him of every privilege made available to all who had bled under the standard of the Bat.
Still the boy suffered graciously, hoping for an eventual reconciliation. He hardly could hide his hurt when his access to the Batcave was voided; he could enter it only by passing through the grandfather's clock.Yet the boy spoke nary a complaining word.
There was anguish though in his eyes whenever his surrogate father, either as Batman or billionaire Bruce Wayne, wounded him with sharp, crushing words. Oh, the boy stood up for himself many times - he's a brave young man. But his voice was never disrespectful and his language at all times deferential. However, it seemed to anger his master more, driving him when proven wrong to stomp away rather than acknowledge the wisdom of his young ward.
It had not come as a surprise then the boy's now standing at the threshold of the Wayne Manor, seeking admission to what may no longer be his home.
"Master Timothy, what a wonderful surprise! We haven't seen you for such a long time!"
"Hi, Alfred, I'm so glad to see you."
"You do remember we have a chess match to finish?"
Tim paused and for a moment the old butler thought he'd cry. "I didn't forget, Alfred. Maybe we'll finish it today." He sighed and forced a smile, his blue eyes hopeful. "Is Bruce in? I left a message in his voicemail that I'd be coming today."
"I'm sorry, Master Timothy, but he went out early for his patrol."
Tim nodded as if he expected it. He sighed again and motioned to the cardboard box in his arms. "You already know so I don't have to explain. I've already tendered my resignation from... from Red Robin. All my stuff are in here, including the access codes to the apartment, keys, uniform and equipment. All credit cards are paid up, closed and cut into half. All bank accounts are back in Bruce's name. I'll be keeping only the trust fund my parents left me."
"Master Timothy, won't you reconsider?"
Tim looked at him with old, sad eyes. No one that young should look so... defeated.
"Bruce doesn't want me around anymore, Alfred. He can't seem to stand being in the same room with me. I don't blame him. What I did was too drastic. He wasn't ready to let go of Damian. I should have been more... considerate."
Alfred shook his head. "You saved a life that day and a soul. Someday Master Bruce may realise you stopped him from becoming a monster in heart and deed."
The boy shrugged. "Umm, where would you like me to place this, Alfie?"
He's putting on a brave face, young Timothy Drake. Alfred motioned towards the coffee table.
"And our chess game, hmm? Surely you don't think I'd let you off the hook that easily."
Tim gave a snort. "Sure, Alfred. You know I can never refuse you."
The boy followed him to his quarters and in three moves, the butler's king was checkmated. Tim had found no reason to prolong the game any further. His decision's final then. Alfred's eyes filled. It could be the last time he'd see the boy.
Tim pulled him in a tight hug and after a few moments, let go and quietly left.