Chapter Text
Tim had known he loved you for a long time now. Even with how strong of a word that was for him, he was sure of it. He loved how intelligent you were, how dependable you were when guiding him off-field, your wit, your banter, and that stupid, annoying laugh of yours when you managed to catch him off guard teasing him.
He loved you. The problem was… he hadn’t told you yet.
He had shown you, of course. He was a firm believer that actions always spoke louder than words. Words were cheap, easy to say and take back; and the months you had both spent together had been everything to him.
It was easier for him to hug you, kiss you, touch you with all the affection his touch-starved heart needed—which was surprisingly a lot—than to simply talk and express his feelings like a normal person. But well, he was more than sure that somehow you loved his emotionally stunted self back.
Well… now was the moment to regret every single time the words had been on the tip of his tongue and he’d held them back.
He was… only vaguely aware of the state he was in. It was taking him an overwhelming amount of effort to focus just on keeping his eyes open, as dark blotches appeared and swam around his peripheral vision. He could barely make sense of Dick’s voice beside him, and his reckless driving around wasn’t helping, but it wasn’t like he was in a position to complain.
Tim had gone all the way to Bludhaven to assist Dick with a complicated operation involving an emerging gang overstepping unspoken territorial lines, which had resulted in a shootout, which had consequentially led to Tim getting shot twice on the back when his grapple line malfunctioned. These things weren’t supposed to happen to him. Much less leave his body in such a state of shock when he was wearing high grade body armor.
He’d be alright—he knew that—he trusted Dick and his resources in Bludhaven. If anything, he was more frustrated at himself. Maybe that was why his hazy thoughts kept constantly drifting back to you.
She’s all the way back in Gotham. She probably won’t know what happened until much later. I could have already told her… What if something had happened and I never got the chance…? It’s fine, I’ll tell her when I get the chance…
What the hell is Dick saying…?
Something about heading to his building, something about first aid, something about a hospital, something about Bruce… How were they going to explain two bullet wounds to the back?
So when you got the call from Dick, well into the following afternoon, telling you that Tim had been admitted into a private room in Bludhaven General… well, you didn’t even stop to consider it before you were driving off to take the next train to Bludhaven.
By the time you arrived, the initial fury that no one had bothered to tell you immediately to a dulled panic and frustration. The speech you’d prepared mentally to scold him vanished from your mind the moment you took a quiet breath and opened the door to his room.
Tim was sitting up in the hospital bed, propped up by uncomfortable-looking pillows. No trace of Red Robin here, no armor, mask or gear; just Tim wearing a plain t-shirt.
The first thing you noticed was how pale he looked, how dark the shadows under his eyes were. His left shoulder was sagging slightly, his spine a bit hunched forward—favoring his back.
His head snapped up when the door shut behind you. His eyes widened and softened immediately, relief crossing his expression. His mouth opened, but no words left him, and suddenly you saw him stiffen, like a detective who knew he had walked straight into a trap.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice raspy and rough around the edges. He tried for a faint, disarming smile—the classic Drake charm. "Dick said he called you."
“He did,” you responded with a quiet exhale, your tone was quiet, because you couldn’t bring yourself to be hard on him at that moment. You pulled up the nearest chair next to his bed, and sat down. You took his appearance in again, now closer; the bandages peeking out from his shirt, the IV tapped to the back of his hand. “Told me you got shot, in the back. Twice.”
“The armor caught the worst of it,” Tim insisted quickly, he leaned forward instinctively before wincing at the pull in his muscles. His hands tightened over the thin bedsheets. “It didn’t fully penetrate the material. Just severe bruising, a couple of cracked ribs, and a minor laceration. I was in shock because of the impact energy, not blood loss.”
You didn’t bother responding, just fixed him with a hard look that was enough to get the message across.
He tsked. “Right…” he muttered, averting his gaze to the blank wall. He dropped his head back against the pillow, and let out a slow, weary breath. When his eyes met yours again, he seemed even more vulnerable. The corner of his lips rose again, but now he looked more like an apologetic puppy. “Are you mad at me? I’m the one who got shot.”
“And no one bothered to tell me until almost a whole day later.”
“I’m sorry. I know I worried you.” He murmured, his voice was raspy, his eyes soft. God, you were so doomed…
Automatically, you reached for his hand over the sheets. He immediately turned his palm upwards, threading his fingers through yours, and squeezed tightly. “I spent hours assuming the worst. Dick had not been exactly reassuring…”
He had been about to retort, but instead let out a low cough. He held his side, without letting go of your hand. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t want you to see me like that. Not when I could barely stand up straight to look at you.”
Your heart stuttered at his words. This was not what you wanted. You had felt frustrated, yes, but it was because of the anxiety it had caused you knowing that he—the man you loved—had spent a whole day injured in the hospital and you hadn’t known.
“Tim, you’re an idiot,” you murmured, tone soft. You almost chuckled at the face he made before going on. “You don't have to be fine all the time. You don't have to be invulnerable. But I would have wanted to be here with you…”
Tim nodded quietly, a small smile tugging at his mouth as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “As if you wouldn’t have worried to hell.” He muttered under his breath.
The silence that followed stretched, not tense like before, but softer, quieter.
“When I was in the back of Dick's car...” Tim started slowly, his eyes shifting back to meet yours. He looked exhausted, the faint freckles on his cheeks stood out more against his pale skin. “Everything was blurry, and I couldn't keep my head straight. But the only thing I kept thinking about was Gotham… and you. Well– you. I was thinking about you.”
You held his gaze, your heart catching in your throat. "Tim..."
"I realized I'm terrible at this," he said, a small, wry smirk touching the corner of his lips, though his eyes remained entirely serious. "I count on you to read my mind. I bring you coffee, I pull you into my lap when I'm at the computer, I trust you with more than I do anyone else, and I just assume you know what all of it means. Because actions speak louder, right? That's what I always tell myself."
He took a slow breath, leaning forward just a fraction despite the pain in his back, refusing to break eye contact.
“But last night lying here, thinking about everything that could have gone wrong… I hated that I hadn't actually said it out loud," Tim confessed softly. "I love you. I– love you so much. And I'm sorry it’s taken this for me to tell you.”
The confession hung in the quiet room, and only the echo coming from other rooms was heard. For a second, you couldn't do anything but stare at him, your chest tightening so much it felt impossible to breathe.
“Yeah, not the best time, Drake..” you whispered, and you felt a single tear slip down your cheek, even as you smiled faintly.
Tim let out a quiet, breathless laugh, his thumb gently reaching out to catch the tear before it could fall further, his hand lingering against your cheek with that tender, familiar touch you knew so well.
“My bad,” he murmured, smirking softly. “But I meant it.”
“I know,” you leaned forward, to press a lingering, tender kiss to the corner of his mouth, careful not to jostle him. “I love you too…” you murmured, and your heart melted when you felt him smile against your lips.