Chapter Text
Curiosity killed the cat, or it should've. That's how the saying goes, isn't it? Maybe it didn't work since Tim never identified with any aspect of the feline population, but that's the phrase Joker used when he caught him regardless, and to be fair Tim did whine like one for a long while after being strapped to that chair, and repeatedly electrocuted for the amusement of the clown.
Curiosity might've killed the cat, but unfortunately for Tim he himself was still kicking, and screaming to the displeasure of all not excluding himself.
It started how most criminal cases of abduction tend to start; with a twisted man, a child, and in this instance a drop of jealousy.
Joker was a special, one in a million kind of man. Everything he did was strange, different, and innovative. No one thought like he did. No one liked something as much as he did, or they liked it wrong, not fully comprehending it.
Only Joker knew the right way, the true way.
Lastly; no one– no one understood him like Batman did. Or so he liked to think, the narcissistic bastard.
His twisted devotion regarding The Dark Knight is what made Tim end up in that basement. Because Batman can only have one super fan, and that was the clown himself, not some teenage stalker with a camera and far too much free time. Especially not a teenager on the brink of replacing the previous bird. The one Joker killed.
Jealousy is a powerful trigger, but little Tim didn't know that, not then. He thought himself invincible in these short glimmering panties. Oh, how wrong he was.
You're so much squeakier than the previous one!–
He's still there… his voice has been stuck in Tim's head for years now.
– and so much less hopeful, it's so sad it's almost funny!
That's true. Tim knew he wouldn't be found. Funnily enough he ensured it himself after removing the tracker from the suit, and not showing either Batman or Nightwing his face before disappearing into the night.
And because of that silly attempt at being mysterious now the clown's voice never leaves him.
–did he get a new one just for me to play with? how sweet! I think he's starting to like me. What do you think? No– don't tell me. I think I'll prefer you screaming it out instead!
Not even when he's asleep.
Eyes open Junior. Eyes open. Be a good boy now. You know I don't like taking off my belt– it makes my pants loose!–
… Sometimes it's worse when Tim is asleep.
–and you know what happens when they are loose, Junior.
…
…
…
Tim's clarity of mind returns to him in pieces. The first thing that comes to him through the haze is as usual the feeling of the cold tile flooring against his knees, his own far too loud breathing assaulting his ears, and a burning pain enveloping his palm.
He turns off the lighter with a soft click and gets up, trying to shake off the dissociation, so he can come back to the task at hand, which involves much more focus than he expected.
His hands shake as he threads the needle, and pushes it into the old purple fabric.
He grew too big for this old blood stained suit, so for about a month now he's been remaking it to act as his new vigilante costume. Using it is a bad idea– he knows. The wounds on his hands, and sleepless nights know, but he can't think of a different way of getting desensitized to this sight, and that's something he'll have to do if he wants to face Joker.
Tim gets up and gently picks it up. He walks towards the only mirror in his apartment and puts it before himself holding it by the hanger. He merged the puffy trousers and the shirt together for better mobility, and got rid of the truly hideous clown shoes opting instead for something more similar to what Nightwing wears. The gloves are attached too, and based on the same design. By all means it was a onesie pretending not to be a onesie. That's the main part of his costume, now for the removable parts; the hat, his domino mask, and the coat.
The coat was his favourite part. Dark purple, embroidered with every sparkly thread Tim could find and… lined with kevlar, not to mention all the gadgets hiding in the inside pockets. He wanted to make it red at first, like something Harley used to wear, but then he thought about how fucking jealous the purple color will make Joker when he sees it. He hates impersonators, especially when they have more style than he himself.
A giggle escapes his throat and Tim has to slam his hand against his face to stop it. He has to work on his laughter if he doesn't want to scare the civilians more than necessary.
All of this is happening sooner than he had expected. It's only been three years, and it took Tim a whole year to recover from the incident before he started training, but well– if a bird doesn't fly out of the nest on its own it's eventually pushed out of it, so he shouldn't complain. This is a good thing.
Tim is doing a good thing.
Especially since… there is a new Robin in town.
That's the main reason Tim decided to take Junior out of the closet before he was ready.
Bruce didn't learn not to bring young birds into this. Very naughty.
Sure he knew Batman didn't know what happened to him, but still. The second Robin is still dead in the ground.
He honestly thought the Robin legacy would stay buried after Spoiler joined and started patrolling the streets with the Dark Knight, but… it seems that the position stayed open. A pity really. Tim will have to keep an eye on the kid, and he really was a kid. Perhaps even younger than Nightwing was when he started. Tim doesn't think it will make Joker less willing to go after him, probably the opposite. He did say that Tim's predecessor was a little too old for his liking, too much effort to hold down, and too stringy. He liked his chickens with baby fat still attached.
Shit–
He throws the suit over the mirror before he sits back down by the table. He traces the embroidery on the jacket until his gagging reflex stops acting out.
Take it easy; he tells himself, and immediately after that he slams his forehead against the table, because Tim had never in his life taken anything easy. It's not how he was raised, or made. It's not within his nature.
He presses against the embroidered bird hard until it leaves feather shaped marks on his pale skin. He barely stops himself from doing it with the needle cushion too.
He'll wait until the new Robin is allowed to go on patrol alone, then… he'll hopefully give Bruce a well deserved heart attack, and eventually when Joker finally breaks out of Arkham once more Junior will be ready to greet him with a warm smile.
Tim's not sure how all of this will end for him, but he knows that either way there will be one less clown terrorizing the Gotham streets.