Chapter Text
Clang, clang, clang. Stomp, stomp, stomp. It was a never ending mantra that he was forced to bear witness (and hearing) to every time he got near Dick’s and especially Jason’s mechs; which was often, given he was the youngest and the one Jack seemed to dote over.
He had put his suit down to a cycle, preferring the rev of the engine to the metal boots clanking through streets. Tim had always preferred bicycles and vehicles alike over walking. He'd been trying for months to let this girl named star, whom he met at the orphanage, to teach him to skate; she just kept insisting that he was too young and she’d feel bad if he scraped his knee.
A buzz from the intercom placed in the helmet of the mech brought his attention back to the current mission.
“Hey Tim-boy, how’s it looking down there?” It was his annoyance of a teammate, Jason. Tim didn’t hate him, but damn he acted like a bitchy older brother.
“Nope, looks normal from down here.”
“You’d know a lot about that.” Jason was snorting. Fricking Snorting. “Get it? Cus.. cus you’re short?”
Not deeming him with an answer, Tim pressed the button which he was pretty sure wouldn’t expose him to Jason’s voice anymore. four feet and seven inches was a respectable height for someone his age, well he thinks it is, he wasn’t very well educated on the average human heights.
Without so much of a warning, the calm, even goofy (from Jason’s frankly unfunny comments), mood evaporated in an instant. There, Batman. He was bigger than what Tim expected. God he was almost the same height as his suit standing up. A wave of panic hit the top of his throat, it tasted like stomach acid, burning away at his bravery and his courage.
He watched, almost feeling paralysed if he wasn’t still driving, as Batman stood dead center in their path. And almost as if Tim were a prophet, he knew. He knew that they couldn’t win, Batman would beat them in the end. Jason may be as tall as a skyscraper in his mech and Dick close behind him, but Batman was Batman. And there was almost nothing he would do to not protect his city to his fullest extent.
However, certain doom wouldn’t stop Tim from trying, and he trusted his teammates enough to feel they had the same motivation. As the tires skid against the hard concrete and the cocopheny of clanging and stomping started with a jolt of speed, the last ebb of panic melted away and a stupid confidence bled into him.
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There was a lump on the back of his head that Tim was rubbing, wincing every few seconds. Batman had somehow managed to hit him through the mech and give him not only an egg sized companion to his hair but a raging headache.
He was the most banged up, Jason and Dick were spared of anything except bruises given that the most Batman could do to something that tall was make it fall over, and it was too heavy for that. Batman just ended up sort of- shaking the parts of the mech that the two sat in, so they rattled around inside there. Maybe Batman was hoping they'd get dizzy so they’d fall. Tim wouldn’t doubt it, he knew what happened with James Gordon.
Tim watched, still somewhat dazed, as Jason and Dick had a quiet but heated conversation. He would have been fine to be subject to their twin torture of making him witness this if Stephanie or Duke had been here. At least they were enjoyable to hang around.
Darkness flooded his vision as he closed his eyes, putting his head in his hands. He wished that Jack had given them some way to muffle sound, he probably would if Tim asked. He’d have to remember that next time he saw the man. That was if Jack wasn’t too disappointed in their performance today.
Jarring images flooded his brain as bitter self blaming urges tugged at him, he could see himself fighting the Batman, see himself losing, see his fellows losing. Then the pictures shifted, he saw himself, younger, labelled a cruel loner by his peers, saw them tell everyone who dared get close to him that he’d hurt them, that he was a curse. Tim was too intelligent to take it to heart, at least, that’s what Jack said. And Jack is very rarely wrong.
He pushed and prodded his brain, for if it was going to give him a slideshow, at least cheer him up with it.
As expected, it didn’t listen. There he was at the playground, watching with a burning envy as other people had to do as little as say a single word to make a friend, watching as they stuck a finger at him and whispered,
“Don’t go near that small boy! He’ll give you AIDS!”
Watched as they snickered. Watched his hands cover his eyes. Watched darkness seep to every part of his sight. Watched. Watched. Watched?
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Blonde hair smothered his vision as Steph hugged him from behind, lifting him off his feet. He spluttered slightly before giving up resisting her force, there was no use fighting Steph’s affection (which he was usually the main subject of) when she was in a state like this, pent up from being kept in lockdown by Jack. He knew that Steph was a constant force, forever seeking a way to be on the field, leaving an impact, locking her place in history. And to have been benched for this long was practically mediaeval torture to her.
“Timmy, I'm bored, what are you up to?” Her voice came with a slight whine, she was the only one closest to his age, Steph being thirteen, so he was pretty much her main friend and target to bother, of course she was close with the others too but they tended to bore you out after a while. Duke was an exception given he was the third youngest, but Duke was away talking to Jack.
“I’m doing the same thing you asked me thirty minutes ago, reading.”
Her head slumped against his with a groan. Having her only available friend locked into a book was a sacrilegious act on his part. That wasn’t to say Steph didn’t read, hell at times Steph read more than Tim, however she also seemed to have a colour coded system in her brain of when it was possibly justifiable to read your days away, and on day six of benching was apparently not coded yes.
“Why don’t you do something on your phone, Purple?”
There was a flick to the back of his head, and he hissed as the healing bump there was aggravated.
“Sorry, codenames” She sighed, “And Jack fu- effing confiscated it for whatever reason.”
A frown tugged at his lips, what reason would Jack have to confiscate something? Jack usually thrived when he was left alone, and surely he knew that not letting Steph have access to a source of entertainment at an unentertaining time would be opposite to the desired outcome of being left the frick alone.
“What did you do with it, Jack’s not the type to do that, is he?” Deep down he questioned if he knew Jack at all, but that was a subject for a darker day.
“Nuthink. Genuinely nuthink.” There was a slight giggle to her words, there always was when she altered words in ways to lighten the mood. Like when she turns the word however into hootever. *
Weight was lifted from his head as Steph stood to stretch and walk away, deeming him a lost cause to bother probably another half hour later, Tim hardly noticed, he was minutely aware of her action, a larger three quarters of his brain was occupied with the mystery that was Jack’s actions. It didn’t line up, there had to be a missing puzzle piece he hadn’t unlocked yet, like a quest.
He absentmindedly felt his finger tap tap tapping on his thigh as his thoughts raced with a possibility after the other. What if, what if, what if, what if. What if?
What? When? Where? Why? If that was so then why? Why is that? Why would he go down that path? Why?
Questions started to feel more and more like sentences, then just brain waves. For just a miraculous second everything else evaporated, leaving just one What if? and Why so? after the other.
Then a head of blonde hair obscured his vision.
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