Chapter Text
I want you to love me
Love me, love me
Love me, oh, baby
- JMSN
Today was good — really good. For the first time in months, Tim felt like he had a purpose again.
He’d gone solo, as usual lately, and intercepted a gun shipment coming into Gotham through the Narrows. Seventeen armed men. Rain slicking the docks. Visibility shot to hell. And somehow he’d managed to take every single one down without being seen until the last minute.
The bruises aching under his suit almost felt worth it when Bruce reviewed the report afterward and gave a small nod of approval. Nothing verbal, of course. But with Bruce, that might as well have been applause. Maybe things were finally looking up.
“Remove yourself from the Batcomputer, Pretender. Some of us have actual work to do.” Damian’s voice sliced through the quiet of the Cave with practiced ease.
Tim’s shoulders stiffened automatically before he forced them to relax. A few months ago he would’ve snapped back without thinking – something sharp enough to make Dick sigh and Damian bristle. It never solved anything, but at least it made him feel less like a target.
Nowadays, he knew better. Because no matter how the argument started, it always ended the same way.
Of course he’s hostile, Tim. He grew up around assassins. Be the adult here.
Tim swallowed whatever response tried to rise in his throat and pushed himself away from the Batcomputer without a word.
Tim paused beside the chair and drew in a careful breath.
In. One. Two. Three.
Out. Four. Five.
Again.
In—
He stopped before it could turn into something sharper. Something shaky.
Don’t do this here.
“Are you still here?”
Damian’s voice cut through the Batcave like a blade.
Tim didn’t look up right away.
“I said remove yourself, Drake.” Damian’s glare could’ve cut glass. “You are not needed.”
That should’ve been easy to ignore. It usually was.
But tonight, something in it snagged.
Tim pushed his hands into his pockets, forcing his shoulders down. He couldn’t decide whether to respond or stay silent.
“Tt.” Damian stepped closer. “Grayson made a mistake assigning you the role. He should have known better than to give you a responsibility.”
A pause.
Then, colder, “Know when you are wanted.”
Tim’s fingers curled slightly in his pockets.
That wasn’t new. None of it was new.
But Damian wasn’t finished.
“Do us all a favor,” he added, voice flat with disdain. “Find the tallest building and jump.”
For a second, everything in Tim just… stalled.
Not anger. Not even hurt, really.
Just a hollow, stunned disbelief that his brain didn’t immediately know what to do with.
Red Robin isn’t supposed to be on the receiving end of things like that.
He blinked once.
Then again.
Somewhere behind that shock, something old and automatic tried to surface—sarcasm, a comeback, anything—
Nothing came out.
Instead, there was silence.
Too much silence.
Inside his head, something quieter and worse started to speak anyway.
Stop making yourself the victim, Timothy. Your father and I are busy.
He swallowed hard.
He’s not a victim.
He can’t be.
But…
He could already picture it too clearly – too vivid, too real, too messy. The pavement. The aftermath. The silence that would follow it.
That would be unbearable. For them. For anyone.
Don’t be a burden.
Don’t be a burden.
Don’t be a burden.
His breath caught on the way in, but he forced it steady anyway.
Carefully, mechanically, Tim stepped back from the Batcomputer. From Damian. From the conversation. From whatever this was becoming.
He didn’t respond.
Didn’t look up.
Just turned toward the Cave entrance and walked, shoulders tight, like if he held himself rigid enough he wouldn’t come apart before he made it out.
────────
Tim knows it’s not a good idea to have his Nest in Crime Alley, what with Red Hood running it, but it’s the one place the Bat’s don’t go. The one place Bruce won’t find him and ruin his day with condescending words. He’s in civvies, walking down the sidewalk, not really thinking… just existing.
He hears shouts coming from the building next to him and releases a sigh of relief that it’s not anyone in danger. Just an open window and a couple arguing. His eyes wandered upwards, noticing the building was rather high. He doesn’t remember climbing the stairs, he just remembered the city getting smaller.
Crime Alley looked different up here. It’s less scary and more inviting. Not as inviting as that ledge, though. Wind pushed against his clothes, causing him to wrap his arms around himself despite wearing Dick’s hoodie. A hoodie he’s 98% sure Dick stole from Jason considering how it practically swallowed him whole. Not a bad way to die… wrapped up in your hero’s clothing.
For a moment, he felt relief at having done step one: climb. Despite not having a manual, he knows step two: jump. With quiet footsteps he walked towards the edge, paused and closed his eyes, relishing in the cool wind.
“Seriously?”
Tim froze and internally groaned. Of course Jason would find him.
He didn’t turn immediately.
Not because he was scared.
Because turning would make this real in a way he hadn’t decided on yet.
“You picked this building?” Jason’s footsteps came closer, sharp and annoyed. Tim felt himself tense up. “Out of all the rooftops in Gotham, you picked mine?”
Tim exhaled slowly and turned his head just enough to see him. Jason was stopped a few feet away, frozen and calculating the situation in front of him. He must’ve noticed how Tim’s feet were too close to the edge, practically halfway off it.
“...What the hell are you doing up here?” The hostility was still there but it felt shifted. Less performative and more cautious.
Tim fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve and shrugged, “Just… enjoying the view.”
“Bullshit.” He paused, narrowing his eyes as he properly scanned Tim. “Fuck kid, you look like shit. When’s the last time you slept?”
Tim flared up, giving a harsh glare. “I’m fine.”
Jason snorted humorlessly, hiding his concern with a blanket of indifference, as if this situation didn’t bother him, “Yeah. Sure. That’s your thing, right?”
Tim just barely noticed that Jason edged closer. “Get down from there, Replacement.”
It wasn’t a request. Not quite concern either but something in between like uneasy authority. Must not be used to being told no nowadays.
Tim glanced back toward the edge. Jason didn’t miss it and he shifted to something more softer, “Hey— no. No, don’t do that.”
Tim blinked slowly, confused as to why Jason wasn’t encouraging him to take a dip off the side of the building. He bit the inside of his cheek until it bled, unsure of his next move. His mind felt foggy, like he wasn’t really here. Still glancing over the edge, he heard Jason let out a sharp breath, “Tim.”
That snapped him out of the fog and he glanced over his shoulder. That was the first time he’d used Tim’s name. Not Drake, not Replacement, or Pretender. Just Tim. He stepped off the ledge, suddenly feeling foolish. “Sorry to encroach on your territory.” He murmured before walking past Jason and towards the doors that led to the stairs.
“Hey! Wait! We’re not done here.” Jason snapped, concern edged in his voice.
“Yeah. We are.” There was no anger, just finality. That caused Jason to hesitate, allowing the uncertainty of the situation to creep in. He let out a final, “Tim!” but he was already running down the stairs, skipping two at a time.
────────
I’m such a fucking idiot, Tim can’t help but think as he shook his head and lowered his gaze to the sidewalk. No doubt Jason’s going to run to Bruce with his… concerns? No. Not concerns. His judgement and doubt that Tim can do his job. You can’t save a victim if you’re one yourself, right? If there’s one thing Tim took out of his brutal training with Batman, it’s that one mistake can get you benched and if Tim’s benched then he’s nothing.
You already are nothing. Tears pricked at his eyes and he looked up at the smoggy sky, letting them drip. He continued home without incident, purposely ignoring looking at tall buildings. His Nest was a miracle of technology and the security was through the roof but obviously it wasn’t enough because a small piece of paper with the Al Ghul crest on it sat on his bed. A reminder he’s being watched.
Ra’s has always been a little sensitive to Tim’s actions but blowing up a large number of his bases really hit the nail on the head. Tim’s not completely stupid, he keeps an eye on bounties that come and go, always aware of the fact that his name (or someone he knows) could be on it. Lo and behold, his quick search confirms that, yes, he has a bounty on his head. He grimaces at the amount of money being offered. He’s honestly surprised Deathstroke hasn’t already presented his head on a plate, knowing how he only takes the large bounties.
Against his better judgement, he opened his first aid cabinet and stared at the pain medication. Should he kick the bucket before anyone else can get to him first? Would that be selfish? To make someone come all the way here just to find he already died and can’t collect the bounty. He hummed out a sigh and closed the cabinet.
What if one of the Bats finds his body? Dick would be heartbroken… at least Tim thinks he would. Maybe a couple days of crying and he’d get over it. Jason and Damian would laugh it off, knowing Tim was weak and couldn’t take it anymore. And Bruce? Tim figures he’d be annoyed they’re down a Bat but he’s got a habit of picking up strays and no doubt would have him replaced within months. The only people Tim would expect to maybe miss him would be Alfred and Cass. Guilt bubbles inside of him and in a moment of anger he grabs a drying cup and flings it at the wall, shattering it.
He covers his face with his hands and rubs at his eyes. Pathetic. Ra’s would be laughing if he could see Tim now.
….
Ra’s.
Tim suddenly feels a burst of energy. Ra’s! Holy shit, how did he not think of this before. Tim laughs and it mixes with his sobs. A quick trip to Nanda Parbat and his problem is solved. Tim doesn’t have to die by his own hand and no Bats need to find his body. A pitiful sad smile finds its way to his face. He’s got a plane ticket to buy.
────────
Jason’s having a really shitty day. His men proved themselves useless today and despite the ‘no killing’ rule Bruce has laid out, he really considered relapsing. He barely made it halfway down the stairs to the Cave before Dick’s laugh echoed.
“I’m just saying, if you keep threatening civilians with swords, HR is eventually gonna get involved.”
“There is no HR,” Damian replied flatly.
“There should be.”
Cass snorted softly from where she sat on the worktable, boots swinging lazily. Bruce stood at the Batcomputer, attention fixed on a holographic map while Damian cleaned his blade nearby.
The whole cave looked painfully normal. Do they even notice Tim’s not here?
Dick glanced up first. “Oh, hey, Jay.”
Jason didn’t answer immediately. Something in his expression must’ve tipped them off because Dick’s happy-go-lucky smile faded. “Report.” Bruce said in his ‘I am vengeance’ voice.
Jason shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. “Found Replacement tonight.”
“Okay…?”
Jason’s jaw tightened. “He was standing on the edge of a building in Crime Alley.”
“What was he doing in Crime Alley?” Dick spoke up.
“Really? That’s what you're focusing on? He was on the edge, Dick. Feet hanging halfway off while staring down like he was thinking about it.” This caused Damian to suddenly freeze, something Jason and Cass immediately took notice of.
Bruce’s expression sharpened. “Did…did he jump?”
“No, Bruce,” Jason said harshly, “I wouldn’t be standing here this calm if he jumped.”
Dick pushed off the console. “What exactly happened?”
Jason exhaled sharply through his nose, already irritated he had to explain this twice. “I showed up and he was standing there acting weird as hell.”
Damian fidgeted with his sword handle, “Drake is always strange.”
Jason ignored the bat brat. “I told him to get down. He kept looking over the edge.” His voice lowered slightly. “And when I told him not to…”
He stopped.
Bruce’s gaze narrowed. “Not to what?”
Jason looked away for a second. “…Jump.”
The word landed heavy.
Dick’s face lost all color.
Cass slid off the table soundlessly.
Bruce stepped forward slowly. “Describe his behavior.”
Jason barked out a humorless laugh. “Seriously? He looked like shit, Bruce.”
“That isn’t specific enough.”
Jason scrubbed a hand down his face. “He wasn’t arguing, he just stood there staring over the edge like… like he didn’t care which way this went.”
Silence swallowed the Cave.
Dick spoke first, voice careful. “Maybe he just needed air—”
“No.” Jason snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t do that.”
Dick faltered.
“I know what I saw. I’ve seen it a dozen times before.”
Bruce’s expression has gone unreadable in the way Jason hated most. “Where is he now?”
“He left.” Jason scoffed bitterly. “Took off the second I started pushing.”
“You let Drake leave?” Damian actually looked panicked, something that wasn’t common.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have tackled him? Dragged him here to be interrogated? ‘Hey Tim were you about to kill yourself? Oh that sucks, here’s a lollipop go home’.”
“Enough.” Bruce said sharply. “Did he say anything?”
Jason thought back.
Sorry to encroach.
We are.
Something twisted uncomfortably in his chest, “...Not really.”
Damian let out a breath, like he was relieved Tim didn’t say much. Jason snapped his head over to him, “What did you do?”
“Why do you assume I did something, Todd?” Damian snapped at him.
Jason strode over to him and towered over him, crossing his arms.
Damian, looking increasingly uncomfortable with the hostility, copied Jason’s posture. “I told him to jump. It was meant to be a dismissal, not instruction.”
Dick gasped loudly and Cass’ gaze sharpened. Bruce went deadly still. Jason’s expression looked the scariest, like he was going to strangle him.
“If Drake was weak enough to be emotionally compromised by a simple sentence, then good riddance!” Damian threw his hands up.
Bruce’s jaw tightened but before he could reprimand the brat, Jason grabbed him by the front of his suit. “Say that again.” He spoke quietly, eyes blazing.
“He. Was. Weak.”
“Don’t you fucking dare—” Jason’s pulled back by Dick, causing him to let Damian go.
“Okay, just… everyone take a deep breath,” Dick spoke, ignoring Jason’s yell ‘Don’t tell me what to do, dickhead’ and tries to stop his hands from shaking. “We can fix this. We go get Tim, bring him back to the Cave and have a family talk. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” His voice cracks.
How could Dick be so fucking stupid? All the months he scolded Tim for simply defending himself from Damian and Jason, not realizing it was breaking his little brother down bit by bit.
Jason barked a short laugh, “Oh yeah, great plan. Sit him down, hold hands, maybe pass around some cookies while we undo months of suffering we’ve caused him.”
Dick, getting more and more hostile, pushes Jason (not that it did much) and snaps, “Well, I don’t see you coming up with a plan! Don’t forget you’re a large part of why he’s decided to fucking kill himself.”
“I never claimed not to be responsi—”
“That’s enough.” Bruce growled. “Fighting won’t solve this. We need to get Tim before he does something stupid. His apartment’s in Old Gotham, we’ll head there now. Robin, you’re benched for the foreseeable future.”
“Unacceptable, father!” Damian’s complaints went unnoticed.
“Moved.” Cass spoke softly, getting everyone's attention.
“He… what? He moved? When the hell did Tim move? Nevermind, doesn’t matter. Where did Tim move?” Dick quipped.
“Crime Alley. No Bats.”
“Fuck.” Jason slapped himself on the forehead. “That’s why he was in my turf! He was going home.”
“Nest.” Cass nodded.
They quickly developed a simple plan, carefully devised to prevent Tim from fighting back against the sudden intrusion of Bats. Simple, nothing could go wrong.
────────
Something always goes wrong. Jason grumbled under his breath, kicking at the broken glass. He had to hand it to Tim, though it looks like a shithole on the outside, it’s beautiful on the inside. How the fuck did Tim acquire the technology to turn this place into a monument of technology? On the outside, the building looked small and barren, probably abandoned some time ago but once you go inside, it’s clean and honestly reminds him of an apartment in the Diamond District.
Cass unlocked the fireplace entrance to the bottom level of the Nest, where his beloved motorcycle, Redbird, sat alongside a black sleek Porsche. The building was empty, with no evidence of Tim being there recently besides the broken glass they’d immediately ruled out to have been thrown by Tim, not thrown at him.
Dick exited Tim’s bedroom holding the threatening paper with the Al Ghul crest. “Guess we know where to go.”
“Hold on. We don’t know Red’s has been taken by the League. There’s no evidence of a forced entry or of Tim being taken forcibly.” Bruce reasoned.
Jason glanced over his shoulder and darkly responded, “You sure about that?”. He slid the laptop across the table, gesturing towards the screen. “Looks like he’s got a bounty on his head. Ra’s wouldn’t offer that kinda money unless he were serious.”
“Think Deathstroke took him? He’d be careful enough not to leave behind evidence.”
Bruce stared at the screen intensely, “Nightwing, you’ve got a way to contact Deathstroke, right?” Dick nodded, already pulling out his phone and sending a text to Slade to meet him in Gotham immediately, knowing Slade would never pick up the phone.
“We’ll increase the bounty, have Deathstroke return Red Robin safely.” Bruce wasn’t a man who prayed, not anymore, but for the first time in years he prayed. Prayed that Tim was with Deathstroke and not Ra’s or another bounty-hunter.