Chapter Text
Tim has been twitching a lot lately and Bernard has noticed. God has he noticed.
On date night he hears Tim talking. He sees his mouth moving with words that fall flat to his ear and render as fake in his mind. He sees Tim’s eyes waver, practically walking past Bernard and moving his gaze over to the restaurant's giant hanging TV on the wall. Bernard drowns out Tim’s hollow words and focuses on the TV behind him. A crime is in progress. A bank robbery. All he can hear is that it’s something about The Riddler. This pisses him off. But he holds back his anger; smiling, laughing, and chatting with his boyfriend.
He’s right in front of him but the distance is palpable as hell. Bernard’s gaze moves down. Tim’s hands are twitching. Twitching as if he’s reaching for something. Something that should be there. Something that’s so close and yet so very far. Bernard knows what he’s reaching for. Knows what he’s longing for. His staff. His costume. Bernard knows. He knows about his boyfriend’s life. He doesn’t keep it a very well kept secret, at least, not from him. He’s known since Tim saved him from the Chaos Cut. He’s memorized every detail of Tim's face. From his soft lips to his surprisingly sharp jawline. But he never pushes. And he wants to push. He wants Tim to hold him and tell him every little detail about his life. How did he become Robin? How long has he been Robin? He wants to know it all. But for now, he’ll turn a blind eye. He loves Tim. So, he'll settle for the distance. He’ll settle for that damn twitching.
Breakfast at a diner. Twitch.
Movie night at home. Twitch.
Workout day? Twitch.
Twitch.
Twitch.
Fucking Twitch.
Yeah, he’ll settle for the twitching.
Currently, Tim Drake-Wayne is walking down the streets of Gotham with none other than Cissie King-Jones. They laugh and play all down the street with their ice-cream melting down their cones and beginning to drench their fingers. Traya runs down the side-walk in front of them-her arms out in an airplane stance. The girl is making propeller noises as she zig-zags down the sidewalk.
“Traya’s really grown up since the last time I saw her,” Tim speaks with nothing but fondness filling his voice. “I pity anyone who crosses her path.” Cissie turns to him with an inquisitive look.
“And why’s that?” Cissie can’t help but keep the question out of her voice.
“Because, she’s going to grow up to be just like you,” Tim snickers as he says this. Cissie just looks at him utterly confused.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you know…overly-blunt, sarcastic, and a little manly too!” Cissie swings her fist playfully at the third Robin in response as he dodges while laughing at her. He runs to catch up with Traya, picking her up and placing her high on his shoulders.
“Get back here you jerk!” Cissie gives chase as the man and child zig-zag down the sidewalk, “You are so immature you know that!”
The trio settles down into a small café not far from where they were running. The waitress walks over with two mugs, a glass cup, and a kettle on a small tray. She places the two mugs in front of the two adults; placing the kettle between the two. She hands the glass cup full of strawberry lemonade to Traya. The trio of friends thank the waitress and she walks off with the promise that their food is on the way.
Tim dumps a bunch of cubes of sugar into his cup along with practically dropping the tea bag in. He begins to pour the hot water into his cup.
“You’re such a boy,” Cissie mocks.
“Wow! I’m finally glad your eyes started working Cissie. Y’know I was getting concerned-” Cissie kicks him under the table causing some of the water to splash onto Tim.
“My shirt!”
“Shoulda kept your mouth shut,” Cissie winks playfully.
“Hey, you were the one making fun of my tea making skills! I’ll have you know I’m so good at making tea I practically own a shop!” Tim crosses his arms with smug confidence written all over his face.
Cissie rolls her eyes “Didn’t your fancy butler make tea for you?” Tim winces hard at this. He’s grieved Alfred’s death of course, but hearing about him so casually in conversation hit him like a semi-truck. And Cissie notices. She reaches over the table and grabs Tim’s hand in an effort to comfort him. “Oh Tim, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I might’ve hit a sore spot I-”
Tim holds a hand up to interrupt her, “I know. It’s fine Ciss.” He absentmindedly dunks his tea bag repeatedly into the water. The table is silent and at some point Traya leaves them to go play in the mini-playpen settled in the corner of the diner. The silence stretches but doesn’t become outright uncomfortable. They’ve been friends too long for that.
Cissie signs, “So, now that I’ve ruined the mood-”
“Cissie you haven’t ruined anything.” Tim objects.
“Yes, I have. We went from joking around to sitting in silence. I know when I've said something wrong. I’m not stupid Tim.” Tim cringes at that. He was just trying to make her feel better. But then again Cissie has rarely ever needed that. She’s always been confident in herself and her decisions. She rarely has a lapse in her judgement. So she’s right. She’s not stupid. “But disregarding that; what did you want to talk about?”
“Huh?” Tim questions.
“Again Tim, I’m not an idiot. It’s not every day you call me out to Gotham City of all places for Ice Cream and a meal,” Tim is only slightly taken aback by this. He had called her here to talk but he thought he’d been subtle about it! “I heard you quit your…job.” Cissie continues; careful as to not reveal too much information on what exactly Tim’s “job” entails.
“Ah…you heard?” Dumb question Timothy, dumb question.
“Word gets around.” Cissie shrugs as she takes a gulp of her tea.
“Cassie?” Tim raises his eyebrow.
“Cassie.” Just then the waitress comes with three plates of a burger and fries. They thank the waitress again. Cissie goes to call Traya over but sees her asleep in the playpen.
“She’ll just take her order to go then.” Cissie turns back to Tim, “But this gives us more time to talk. So spill Timmy.” She leans forward on the table, resting her head in her hands.
Tim suddenly gets nervous under Cissie’s hard gaze. Cissie is a sweet girl but when she sets her sights on something she never lets it go. And right now? Her sights were set on Tim. His palms start sweating and he discreetly rubs his hands on his pants before speaking.
“Well it’s about my…my job.” Cissie hums. She’d already assumed that. She waits for him to continue. “It’s just…how did you do it Cissie.” After he asks this question he looks up to see Cissie looking shocked for the first time that night.
“You’re going to have to be more specific than that Tim,” She already had an idea as to where this was going but wanted to know for sure. She needs Tim to say it. It needs to come from him.
“How did you go on living a normal life after…everything? I want a normal life. I want love. This life…this job was never the end goal for me. And I think I'm in that stage of my life where I want to move on from all of it.” Cissie’s eyes widened at how candid Tim was being. He hardly gets vulnerable like this; especially with her of all people. She listens closely as he continues. “The fighting, the spying, the detective work, if it's all starting to get in the way of my happiness with Bernard then shouldn’t I let it go? I want to let it go. Why is it so hard?”
Cissie takes a second to process the information given to her before she responds. Tim is looking down at this point, food half eaten and tea all gone. His hands are intertwined on the table and he looks absolutely resigned. She realizes this must be weighing heavily on Tim. It has been for a while.
“Well Tim, our circumstances aren’t exactly the same.” Tim looks up at this. He knows this but he at least thought she could relate. He waits for her to continue. “I had power. I ended up abusing that power. I was ashamed of myself. I’m still ashamed.” Time inwardly smacks himself. He hadn’t exactly meant to reopen this wound.
“Cissie-” She holds a hand up to stop him.
“No Tim, It’s fine. I should feel ashamed of myself. I used abilities and skills that were meant for the betterment of others and used them to get petty fucking revenge. Me leaving was something I had to do. Not for Young Justice, Not for the prick, but for myself. My atonement.” Cissie looks at Tim with genuine sincerity in her eyes, “But I feel like we’re not getting to the real root of the issue. What aren’t you telling me Tim?”
“How do I stop helping people?” This boy never fails to surprise Cissie. However, she knows what he means. It’s something that she herself had struggled with at first. Cissie examines Tim’s timid body language and truly does pity him.
“The feeling of wanting to help people never goes away.” The blonde states. She looks deep into Tim’s eyes and can see the desperation for answers. Tim has always been hungry for results. However sometimes, he gets so focused on one result that he fails to see the possibility of another. “Even if it’s just helping an old lady down the street or helping carry someone’s groceries. It’s just who I am. It’s who you are. That’s what makes you so admirable Tim; you’re kind. You’re a hero. And not all heroes need to wear capes.”
Tim sighs, “I’ve been doing stuff like that. Getting cats out trees for my neighbors, pet-sitting, the whole nine yards. But I can’t help the feeling of wanting to do more. I can’t stop thinking that if I was out there there’d be one less crime happening. There’d be one less person that keeps their rent money in their purse. There’d be one less person who ends up losing their parents like I did.” Tim sounds dead serious. He speaks with hesitation but oh so much pure conviction.”
“Tim, I'm going to ask you a question. I want you to think about that question. Don’t answer me tonight.”
Tim, taken slightly aback, obliges, “Uh, alright.”
Cissie leans in halfway across the table. She looks Tim dead in his face and asks, “Are you leaving because you want to or do you just feel like you need to.”
And Tim doesn’t know how to answer that.
Cissie sits Traya in the backseat of the Super Cycle. The sun has set as the moon has risen into the sky. She turns to Tim and gives him a massive goodbye hug, “Bye Tim! I had fun today even with your sour mood.” She sticks her tongue out at him playfully as she says this. Tim responds with a tongue of his own. “Let’s do this again sometime! But maybe on my turf? Gotham gives me the creeps.”
“You bet,” Tim goes to assist her in getting in the Super Cycle but she just jumps in on her own. “Sorry I can’t drive you home, me and Bernard have a thing. But Super Cycle will get you home safe.”
“It’s fine Tim, really. I can handle myself, you know.”
“Haha, yeah. I just don’t want you to have to.” Cissie notices Tim bouncing on the heels of his feet; rocking back and forth. She gives him a look and he breaks easily.
“I just…I hope it goes well. I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately.”
Cissie grabs Tim’s hand, “Tim you’ll do fine. Don’t overthink it!” She says that last part sternly. Tim nods but he can’t help but over think.
As the Super Cycle drives off Tim and Cisse wave to each other. Tim makes sure to wait until they’re out of sight to turn around. He walks briskly through the streets of Gotham. Not out of fear but because he’s late.
Tim makes it back to the apartment at exactly 8:30. He opens the door and the smell of home-cooked salmon wafts into his nostrils. He slips his shoes off and ventures further into the apartment. He veers into the kitchen area and sees Bernard sliding two pieces of salmon onto a plate full of rice. He looks focused on his craft so Tim takes it as an opportunity to sneak up on Bernard and wrap his arms around his waist. He rests his head in the back of Bernard’s neck.
“Hey you,” Tim murmurs. A couple months ago Bernard would have giggles. He would’ve turned around and gave Tim a kiss and asked him how his day was. That was then, this is now. But God Tim wishes it was then. Now all her gets is a—
“Hey.” in that monotone voice that has slowly begun to overtake Bernard’s once loud and joyful voice. He hates that voice. But who is he to complain? It’s his own fault. While Tim got distant; Bernard got cold.
“Food smells nice,” Tim peckers kisses on the back of Bernard’s neck. He presses his front fully against Bernard’s back in an attempt to get any sort of actual emotion out of him. “Can’t remember the last time you made a home cooked meal.” he feels Bernard tense up in his arms. It’s not the reaction he’d wanted but at least it was something other than monotony.
“I wonder why that is?” Ouch. He saw it coming but it didn’t sting any less. Tim’s not worth cooking for. He can’t exactly blame Bernard for thinking that. Tim’s repeated emotional absence has gutted their relationship. But it still hurts to hear. Tim doesn’t respond as Bernard cleanly frees himself from Tim’s grasp. He lets him go. “ I have to go wash up. I didn’t before as I thought I'd be eating alone tonight.”
The blonde slips out of his white stained apron; hanging it up on a singular rack in the kitchen. Bernard sighs, “I need you to watch the rest of the Salmon. You don’t even need to touch the pan. Just turn it off after five or so minutes. That’s all I need from you Tim. Can you do that for me?”
Tim grits his teeth a little at Bernard’s slightly condescending tone, “I’m not a child B, I know how to work an oven.” The shorter blonde boy just turns away and walks towards their shared bathroom. Tim calms his nerves and looks around the dining room. He might as well try and spruce it up a little. Make it look like an actual date instead of two people just living in a shared home. In under a minute he manages to lay a deep rich blue-colored table cloth down. He pours two glasses of champagne and sets the glasses down. He brings out two candles. They’re already half used and have hardened wax falling down the sides but Tim determines they're good enough. Just as he lights them he feels a presence behind him.
The third Robin turns around with great speed as gears up for a fight. He sees nothing. He knows he’s not crazy. Years fighting beside a grown adult in a bat costume should make him crazy but he’s not. His reflexes aren’t as good as Dick’s, he’s not as strong as Jason, and he’s not as skilled as Damian but he knows when someone is behind him. He looks at his outdoor balcony. He doesn’t see anything other than another apartment’s window on the other side. He lives on the fourth floor. Whoever’s out there had to climb up.
Tim can hear the shower water running from the bathroom. He grabs a wooden spoon and sneaks towards the balcony door making sure to stay as hidden in the moon’s shadows as possible. He slowly slides open the glass balcony door clutching the spoon in his hands. He doesn’t tremble. He never once doubts. He’s not afraid. Tim slinks out of the apartment and creeps onto the balcony. He looks around.
No one is there.
A big hand suddenly grasps the railing and Tim goes on the defensive; waiting for the figure to attack. One hand becomes two as the person pulls themselves onto the balcony. They stand firmly on the balcony railing; their face fully cloaked in shadow. Tim decides to strike first, running towards the figure. He throws his leg out in a swift, powerful motion. The figure dodges and stumbles onto the balcony and back into the shadows. They catch their footing and hold their hands up in surrender.
“Hey, hey! Chill out Drake!’ And Tim recognizes the voice instantly.
Jason. Fucking. Todd.
In all this hood wearing, pistol wielding glory stands Jason Todd on Tim Drake’s balcony.
“What the hell Jason? I almost knocked you off the building!” Tim screeches. Jason laughs at that. Fucking laughs in Tim’s face. The laugh goes on for about thirty seconds before Jason decides to pull himself together.
“It’s really cute that you think you can do that,” Jason taunts. Tim rolls his eyes; crossing his arms as he leans on the balcony’s table.
“What are you doing here Jason?” Tim and Jason weren't necessarily at each other's throats anymore–(More like Jason was at his throat but he digresses)--but they weren’t exactly brothers. Tim hesitates to even call them friends. They’re civil and they coexist. That’s the extent of their relationship. They’re certainly not close enough for surprise home visits.
“I don’t know what I did to make you want to bite my head off.”
“Other than making me think you were someone trying to either rob or kill me…nothing at all.” Tim glares at him, still waiting for Jason to answer as to why he’s here.
Jason relents and nods, “Fair, fair. I just wanted to congratulate you”
Tim puts his face in his palms and sighs so hard Jason can almost feel it. “Congadulate me on what Jason?”
“You know…leaving the big b. You finally grew the balls to leave the bird's nest. I'm almost proud of you.” He sees Jason smirk.
“Uh..yeah thanks. Is that it?” Tim is already over this conversation and he feels as though he’s forgetting something.
“How does it feel?” Tim snaps his head up and looks Jason in the eyes for the first time the entire night.
“How does it feel?” Tim questions. He’s not exactly sure what Jason is trying to get at.
“How does it feel to finally be away from the bat? Away from the cowl?” Jason goes and leans on the railing. “You’re finally a big boy now Drake. You started Robin when you were thirteen right? How old are you now? 17?”
“21…”
“Wow, you’re a late bloomer,” Jason taunts with yet another smirk on his face. Tim takes the time to examine Jason’s body language. Jason is putting on a relaxed front but underneath it all he can see how tense Jason is. He can see Jason’s eyes darting around inspecting every area as if something is hiding in every corner. I mean it's Gotham so it's not like he can blame him but it feels different with Jason.
“Well if you must know I’m pretty miserable.” Tim walks next to Jason and leans on the railing looking down at the alley below. “I’ve always felt lost without Robin. Now that I'm done with it I don’t know what to do with myself.” Obviously Jason hadn’t been expecting such a vulnerable answer from Tim if his silence was anything to go by. The two rarely ever get real with each other. This is new territory for the both of them.
“I…” Jason starts and Tim looks at him expectantly.Jason hesitates to get vulnerable with Tim. Jason’s aware that the two aren’t close. He came over here mostly as a joke. Jason just got bored on patrol and decided to bother someone. But hearing Tim admit to having a hard time so candidly made him feel bad for the guy. “I…when I came back and..you…were Robin I was angry”
Tim scoffs, “So angry you broke into Titans Tower to ‘prove a point.’ “ Tim uses quotation marks on that last bit, rolling his eyes.
“Semantics,” Jason waves it off. He looks at Tim and looks back down at the alley below; not wanting to meet Tim’s eyes while being so open with him. “I was alive again and I didn’t know how to deal with it. Bruce he…I was hurt. I was lost. I was lost for so long.” Tim wants to hug Jason but he knows better than to actually do it. Jason would probably try to kill him again.
‘It took me a while to reinvent myself. My lack of identity and need for vengeance caused me to lash out at you guys for so long Drake. But overtime…I started to find myself y’know? Me and Dick reconnected in our own way, I found my outlaws and…even though I’m still hurting sometimes the pain numbs.”
Jason looks at Tim with what Tim thinks is a small, but genuine, smile. “It’s time to ask yourself: Who is Tim Drake?”
At this Tim hears the smoke alarm go off and Bernard bursts out of their shared bedroom with nothing but his boxers on. Tim can see smoke coming from the kitchen.
“Shit.”
Tim hears Bernard yell, “Tim! What the hell?! I told you to watch the fucking salmon!” He sees Bernard turn around looking for him. He spots Tim outside on the balcony. He puts his head in his palms and Tim can tell Bernard is trying to calm himself down. He just turns away and walks to the kitchen. Tim already dreads having to go back inside. The black-haired boy looks to his side and sees that Jason already left.
Tim and Bernard sit at Tim’s romantic gesture picking at burnt salmon. The only edible pieces being the two that were made before Tim got home.
“At least we were able to salvage the rice?” Tim says, trying to bring his boyfriend’s spirits up. Bernard just sighs.
“I guess so.”
“It’s really good Bernard.”
“...Thanks.”
“I…I really appreciate it.”
Bernard’s eye twitches, “Do you?”
“What?”
“Do you appreciate it?” The unspoken ‘Do you appreciate me?’ rings loudly in the room.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Damn, that sounds very gaslight-y. He didn’t mean it that way he just didn’t know what to say/
“Tim, I'm tired of all this dancing around. I’m sick of walking on eggshells in my own home.” Bernard grips his fork and Tim thinks he’s trying to bend it
“Bernard, I'm trying. I’ve been having a hard time lately and-”
“And I've tried to be understanding,” Bernard interrupts. And boy has he been understanding. He knows more than he lets on about why Tim is really distant. But they could talk this out if Tim has just trusted him enough to open up to him. Bernard isn’t weak. Bernard just wants his boyfriend back but right now he feels like he’s dating Robin. “But you being late to every date and so damn distant isn’t helping”
“I was on time today!”
“Walking in right at 8:30 and ruining my entire dinner sure is getting you points in my book Timothy.” And shit Tim knows he’s not wrong but he’s too prideful at this point.
“Well you being aloof over everything isn’t helping me want to stay around. Maybe if you showed even a drop of emotion I'd want to pay more attention!” He doesn’t mean it. Tim doesn’t mean it. But he said it. It’s out there.
“You’re unbelievable. You know that?” Bernard scoffs before he gets up, disregarding the burnt meal before heading to the door grabbing his coat and his keys.
“Where are you going?” Tim gets up to follow his blonde boyfriend.
“Out.” There’s that lack of emotion again.
“Out?”
“Out.”
Bernard exits and makes sure to slam the door to emphasize his point; leaving Tim to clean up dinner.
Tim spits his toothpaste out into the sink. He rinses his toothbrush off and places it back in the holder. He notices Bernard recently got a separate one just for himself. The thought of Bernard sours his mood as he swiftly leaves the bathroom with his towel wrapped wound his waist.
Tim goes to his room and slips into nothing but his boxers as he prepares for bed. Bernard still hasn’t come home. Part of Tim (Most of Tim) wants to go looking for him. To apologize. But if Bernard wanted to hear empty promises then he would’ve come home by now.
Tim barely gets into bed when he hears a loud CRASH from further into the apartment. He jumps out of bed on high alert. Now what? As he sneaks down the hall in pure silence he tries to rationalize what the noise could’ve been. Bernard? Tim thinks maybe he came home and knocked something down by accident.
No, Tim thinks, Bernard knows this apartment enough to know how to navigate it.
Tim goes over some other possibilities. Actual burglars? Jason again? He went over tons of possibilities but none are what he saw when he poked his head out from behind the hallway wall and peered into the kitchen area.
Standing at the center of his kitchen stands a cloaked figure. She’s standing with her back towards him. He can make up a massive hammer in her hand. He widens his eyes. Who is this? What do they want with him? With Time Drake? Does this person know his secret identity? He doesn’t get the chance to dwell more because the figure turns around and dashes at Tim. He rolls out of the way as the hammer collides with the wall, absolutely destroying the part it hit.
Tim attempts to make out a face but can’t as the mysterious person dashes again. Tim barely has the time to lean his body backward to avoid a deadly swing to his torso. He jumps back, grabs the broom beside the fridge, and snaps off the sweeper part. He’ll buy a new one if he manages to survive this. He twirls it around like his bo staff. The person jumps at him again but this time Tim’s prepared.
He ducks under the hammer swing and lands a heavy blow on his opponent’s torso. He hears a grunt of pain.
Feminine, Tim thinks as he uses his current advantage to bring his arm up and knock the hammer out of their arm with all his strength and that hurt. A Lot. Tim doesn't dwell on the pain as he swings his body around and kicks the figure back; throwing the broken groom right after, hitting the figure square in their face. All in one swift motion. Tim goes over to the hammer and picks it up to inspect it. The hammer is a metallic silver with dark purple accents and lining throughout it.
It’s light, Tim ponders, far too light for its size.
He doesn’t get to think much more as the figure pouches on him again. Damnit, Tim had left his guard down. He turns ever so slightly holding the hammer horizontally the cloaked figure grabs on to the hammer and entails a tug of war battle with Tim.
“I don’t know who you are but this game is getting tired.” Tim snarks and as he brings his knees up it connects with the person’s jaw. Another grunt. Confirmed feminine. His attack causes a dark purple flower to fall out of the girl’s hood. Tim uses his superior strength and behind to push her backwards. Now they’re fighting right in front of the balcony window.
All of a sudden the girl laughs. It’s mischievously innocent. She says, “You’re stronger than you look huh?”
Tim grits his teeth. He looks to his right and sees the girl open up the handle of the hammer with her left hand. Tim sees a red button. He doesn’t know what it does but he knows what they usually do and it's not pretty. With all of his strength she jerks to his right and throws the girl and the hammer out of the balcony window; smashing it open. The girl falls over the balcony railing and Tim runs after her.
He runs so fast he almost falls himself. He peers over the railing and–
She’s not there.
Shit.
Tim looks back at his apartment. Rubble for a wall, a broken broom, a messy kitchen, and a purple flower.