Work Text:
It had been years since Tim last thought about that summer before he was Robin. The last summer he could reasonably call himself a child, before he could’ve saved anyone. Before he failed and won and turned into who he was today.
That summer, as much as many would doubt him, was far more influential on his general character than that first year as Robin. Sure, Bruce had been a hard-ass, a grieving father, someone who had lost his world. And sure, he’d shouted at Tim, trained him until he could no longer get up on his feet, made him feel stupid and young and incompetent. But at the end of the day, Bruce was Bruce and Tim was Tim. He would go back to Drake Manor at night, knowing who he was, what his place in the world was and what he hoped to accomplish in the future. And he had accomplished what he wanted. Had saved Bruce from his own hands, had forcefully pushed them into a new glory-era of success as heroes and as people.
It had changed him, had twisted him and rid him of the last bit of naiveté he had in his life. But, without that summer before it, he never would’ve come to Bruce in the first place. Never would’ve stuck around. And he’d never told any of them, not his family, not his friends. It felt personal, vulnerable, a bitter reminder of what had been and what was.
See, that summer, Tim had been eleven and he’d gone out every single night to catch his heroes in action, taking picture after picture with no one around to take care of him or make sure he slept a full night’s sleep. Tim had been free in a way he never was again after. Free of mental turmoil and instability, for one. Free of his parents, for another.
That was when it happened. He’d gone somewhere he shouldn’t have and he suffered the consequences.
It had been weeks, weeks, before he managed to crawl his way back out, running home as fast as he could go, breaking out into flights of giggling-shrill laughter every few feet. He’d been a wreck, when he came home, bloody and beaten, starved and with that horrible scar around his mouth. Nobody waited there, nobody to console him, to cry against, even just to hold him as he cried himself to sleep.
His parents had come home the following week, not once mentioning the four week period in which Tim hadn’t made any contact at all, as if they hadn’t noticed. And his mother had taken one look at him, let her bag fall to the ground and screamed. Because whilst Tim had come out the other side with functioning limbs and without any broken bones (at least no major ones), he hadn’t been able to escape without the telltale scars.
The scars that stretched from his cheek down to his mouth and up the other side. The scars that you saw on the streets, every once in a while, the mark of too much time spent with the Joker. Tim’s smile was a grimace at best, ugly but thin and not deep enough to become raised. That had been the silver-lining in all of it.
His parents had been so concerned, had stayed two weeks longer than planned, had made him promise to call them, even if he had been doing that for years anyway. And, most of all, they had taken him to a very discreet doctor, who through a mixture of treatments and tinctures, managed to reduce the scarring so much that the tiniest bit of concealer hid it entirely. That was good enough for his parents. They hadn’t changed their ways, even when Tim had demonstrated what danger he was in, being left alone.
It had taken until a week before the new school year started before the laughing fits died down. He had had an intense exposure to joker-gas, so much so that his doctor had been worried he’d gotten addicted.
And in-between the endless doctor visits and a useless therapists office, Tim had flashbacks. Giggling laughter, fists and knives, flying, coming down, show-tunes constantly blaring in his ears. Harley leaning over him, whispering what a good boy he’d been. How good he was for mommy. And Joker, patting his shoulder, playing an absurd game of catch with him that involved live grenades. Calling him JJ, Joker Junior, again and again and again.
Nobody came to save him, nobody noticed until Tim had already escaped. He was free, yes, but at what cost? He’d resented his parents, Joker, Gotham in general. And most of all, he’d resented Batman, for not coming, not looking for Joker.
And yet, and yet, when the Joker took from Batman, Tim was at his side, he held him up, helped him back to his feet and out of the bottle. He took care that Batman went out without posing a threat to petty thieves, that he fought and fought and fought. Because whilst it was too late for Tim, for Jason, every day people died in Gotham, suffered and screamed, and Batman was who stood against it. Batman and Robin.
That summer of torture had been the trigger for the rest of his live and he never forgot it. Not when he fought Harley, not when Harley broke it off with the Joker and went for Ivy, not when Joker escaped. Hell, the clown had no clue his JJ was the one putting him back in jail, but he supposed it was the same principle as Jason, who’d stolen a name right back from the madman. Tim had stolen one too, just not the one people expected. And then, every once in a blue-moon, he got doused with Joker-Gas and he had to worry about relapsing, had to worry that he’d start giggling again, becoming unhinged and unstable.
—
Dick asking him to see someone after Batman’s disappearance, it hit home on too many bases. His instability, the fact that Bruce was lost and no one was trying to find him, the loss, the pain. He’d run as far as his legs could carry him and then some more, and all the while, laughter rang in the back of his mind, fun-size mirror-shards making him bleed, red blush running down his cheeks, no telling what was blood and what wasn’t.
But hey, he’d returned once more, he’d succeeded and he was better than ever—no really. That is, until tonight.
To say this was a bad week would’ve been an understatement. In fact, it was a terrible week. Starting with the fact that his mothers death-date was right around the corner and ending with a clearly forged financial report that meant he had to investigate WE again.
And now, as the cherry on top, Joker had somehow gotten his hands on Damian and the entire bat-clan was up in arms about it. They all had history-though Tim’s was certainly different than most-. No matter, it was never good for a Robin to get lost in the Joker’s hands.
Which was why Tim had worked all night to find his location. And he had it;
“Sending his location now. ETA 5“
There was a second of quiet before other bat’s filtered through. Tim was the closest.
The warehouse Joker had chosen wasn’t special in any way, except for the fact that it sat squarely across from Robinson park, on second and Chaplin avenue. Exactly where one would expect a jokester to hide out.
Tim dropped down from a conveniently placed skylight onto a platform far above his target. The warehouse was empty and the walls echoed.
“-you worry your pretty little head, my murderous songbird- don’t you know, if you love someone, you should let them go! HaHAha Don’t you look ready to ROAST!“ The unhinged voice of the Joker made Tim flinch back. But he couldn’t stop now. And backup was at least another ten minutes out.
He watched Joker taunt a trussed up Damian, who looked somehow painfully bored and deeply annoyed at once. Tim could relate.
“That reminds me—You know you remind me of someone, mhM who could it be?“
Tim rolled his eyes. The taunting was definitely not up to parr tonight.
Joker snapped his fingers dramatically as he spun on his heels, heading for a table filled with props.
“I mean obviously I had the second Robin before, but I don’t think that’s quite it! Who was it? Who was IT!“
Joker took a fake flower attached to a water-pouch and sprayed it right in the middle of Damian’s face. It was safe to say, if looks could kill, Joker would’ve keeled over on the spot.
“Oh I know! My JJ! I haven’t thought about that one in a while—he was younger than you, I think. I forget his name now, but it can’t have been important. He screamed so sweetly though! Not like you AT ALL!“ Joker pouted and Tim’s heart nearly beat out of his chest. Joker never talked about him and he’d honestly thought he forgot about it entirely.
“Maybe I should look him up again! I bet if I asked my sweety-pie Harley, she’d tell me where he lived! You know, he escaped all on his own. Very smart. I was such a proud dad. TERRIBLE CLOWN THOUGH, let me tell ya that. HaHAha! No sense of humor at all“
Damian had stopped struggling, clearly intrigued by the boy Joker was talking about. If only he knew he’d been living side by side with him for years. Tim sunk into the shadows and dropped the rest of the way down.
Quietly, Tim snuck up behind him and he could tell the precise moment Damian caught him, because he stopped struggling for the tiniest second before pointedly not looking at him.
Joker was really going at it now, and he grabbed a rusty looking chainsaw of the table. That was Tim’s limit. He raised his bo-staff and had Joker on his back within seconds.
The man stared up at him with wide, unfocused eyes. “Oh, come on! Not the third little bird! I hate that one. No fun at all“
Tim snorted and knocked him out with a single uppercut.
He turned to Damian who was watching him like a hawk. He didn’t let himself be bothered by.
Tim cut the zip-ties and removed the gag from his mouth.
“What took you so long? I had to listen to his innate nattering for over an hour!“
Tim pushed him a bit, but didn’t do anything else.
Instead he turned his comm back on, “Bird secured. Joker is out for the count for tonight. Alert the commissioner.“
B grunted in response and then Dick took over, filling up the minutes up to his arrival with chattering that Tim would never admit to find comforting.
He helped Damian, who was pretty much unharmed up and handed him over to a much more welcoming brother. He and Damian just didn’t have a relationship like that.
But he did notice Damian being very quiet the entire ride to the cave, where Alfred and the other bats waited for them.
He allowed for some bandages and disinfectant but then he sat up against. Eyeing Tim from the side, he opened his mouth and Tim wanted to punch it shut.
“Father, Joker mentioned something quite troubling. I believe he referred to a so-called JJ, possibly short for Joker Junior“
Tim tensed and knew that Cass had caught it. He tried to smile reassuringly but failed miserably.
“Drake, you must’ve heard as well. From what I gathered, he had a child with the Harley Quinn, or possibly abducted one? He mentioned torturing him quite extensively but him having escaped. Only, if he truly is Joker Junior, I fear there is a possibility he might return as a villain in his own right“
Bruce looked at his youngest pensively. Tim knew from very personal experience that Joker had never mentioned it before or after his time as Robin. And he’d been thankful for it, too. He could almost feel a phantom hand on his shoulder, sharp nails pinching his sin. He couldn’t say if it was his mother or Harley. He felt a dangerous giggle rising up his throat. He did his best to hide it with a cough.
“He did mention someone, yes. But he also called him boring, which from Joker likely means he’s not a threat. Especially because he was younger than Damian. I wouldn’t worry too much, if we haven’t heard about him now, he probably left Gotham“
That’s what Tim would’ve done anyway, had he been the least bit sane or had saner parents.
He hoped that this would be it, but hell, he probably had the worst luck in all of Gotham.
—
Two nights later, and the idea of a mini-Joker had obviously festered inside Damian’s mind—he was doing research on abductions and matching them up with the time-frames of Joker’s escape. It was a Sisyphean task, since for one, Joker had broken out like a hundred times and for another, Gotham was one of the cities with the highest rate of abductions in the world. And-only Tim was privy to that knowledge, though-even if he went through all missing person cases he would not be a single step closer to JJ’s identity. His parents had never reported him missing.
Tonight was pretty quiet so far, except for some uptake in activity from Harley. Batman had gone with Nightwing to deal with it, since they were all a bit testy with Damian, and Tim himself had enough stuff to do without patrol.
“Drake-“ Damian said from the other side of the cave. Tim looked up.
“-Did Joker not mention wanting to ask Harley Quinn? Do you think she would cooperate with questioning?“
It was true that Harley was more of an anti-hero than a villain nowadays, but Tim really didn’t want Damian to do that. Before he could say anything, Damian opened a line with Nightwing.
“N’ try asking Harley about JJ“
To add insult to injury, Damian hacked into the body-cam in Nightwing’s domino.
The fight was already mostly over, the two women had only wanted to destroy some polluting company without even any civilian injuries.
Nightwing approached Harley in quick strides. She looked a bit worse for the wear but unharmed.
“Harley, could you tell me about a boy, our info tells us his name was JJ, possibly Joker Junior“
It was comical how Harley froze mid-movement. She paled.
“Um, not sure why ya would want that, honey-bunches.‘s not a fun story“
Tim snorted, yeah, it wasn’t.
“Please tell us anything you know, the info could be crucial“
A blatant lie since there was no indication of a threat at all. Tim would know, he was JJ.
“Well, if it’s that importan’ puddin’, It was way back, when the angry one was still Robin. We’d just gotten out and a boy literally tripped over ‘r way. And Joker, he really wannted ta keep him, so we did. ‘was a real slip of a boy too. I think his name mighta been Timmy once, but Joker really wanted a son, so we just- ya know. In any case, he escaped, real smart one too— used a plastic fork and some tape. I never looked for him, figured he’da had enough of me, but if ya do find him, tell him ‘m sorry.“
Tim froze. Go figure she’d remember his stupid name years down the line. The comm line was entirely silent and Nightwing practically fled up a fire escape. His hands were shaking. Damian had turned to look at Tim, eyes as big as saucer pans.
Well, yeah, there was no way he could convince them that wasn’t him. Well, he’d had a nice run.
Absently, he rubbed at the make-up concealing his scars. They’d paled further with age but Tim could tell they were there anyway.
“RR, stay exactly where you are. Robin, use force if needed.“
B growled out. Tim groaned and couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. It echoed ominously throughout the cave.
“Drake— what do you have to say in your defense?“
Tim made himself smile even when all he wanted to do was hide. But he couldn’t do that, not as Lon as B wasn’t back anyway.
“I’m coming back to home-base too“ Jason panted out between gunshots. He’d been on patrol before but it was no surprise he was listening in anyway.
“Do whatever you want“ Tim snapped back and sunk deeper into his chair. He really didn’t want to talk about this, about that summer.
The Bat-mobile roared entirely too soon, followed closely by the growl of a motorbike that came speeding in.
Damian had rolled his chair over to Tim, seemingly to keep him in place, even when Tim made no attempt to escape. Such a worrywart.
—
“That true? What Harley said, I mean.“
Jason stalked over, red helmet gleaming in the light of the screens. Tim shrugged noncommittally.
“She wasn’t wrong, if that’s what you’re getting at“
Dick graced him with his-entirely unwanted-presence and pulled Tim in to his lap. How he’d gotten into the chair Tim had literally just been sitting in, he had no clue.
“This is not in your file“ B growled. Tim looked up at him defiantly. He’d never been afraid of the big bad bat and he wasn’t about to start now.
“Yeah well, if you had your listening ears on, she said it happened whilst Jason was Robin. Before my time. And it din’t matter when we started and it doesn’t matter now.“
“I call bullshit. It does fucking matter. Joker had you for what—weeks? And none of us knew!“
That had hit too close to home with Jason obviously, maybe he was blaming himself.
“And obviously I wanted it that way. Look, did that summer fucking suck? Is Joker a fucking sadistic Psychopath? Yeah, but you knew that already. And in any case it didn’t leave anything behind that mattered.“
“How long?“ B grunted out.
“About four weeks, give or take a few days “ Actually it had been precisely 28 days, eight hours and 14 minutes before he’d made it through that fucking vent.
Jason frowned. “Wouldn’t there have been some kind of mention of that? Hell, your parents were pretty public people, you’d think it wouldn’t go unnoticed if there son was missing for an entire month“
Tim snorted again. He shook his head. “Nope. I mean there probably would’ve been, but I wasn’t exactly a missing person case. Nobody called the police or something. I just went back home after“
Dick cooed into his ear and hugged him tighter. Tim was mostly annoyed but also a bit amused at the naivety of his family members.
“Do you mean to tell us your parents knew where you were at the time?“
Damian asked, confused. Now, a slightly unhinged giggle escaped from Tim’s lips that made Jason flinch back like he was burned. Well, that broke his streak of a whopping fourteen months without an incident.
“No- It means they didn’t notice. They were out of the country, I was alone. Obviously they only realized it when they came back and I couldn’t stop laughing“
Damian looked shocked, as if the idea of willful neglect of a minor was somehow a new concept. Well, for him it might be. Although his mother had just let him loose on Gotham, so maybe not.
“And we—we didn’t notice“ asked Jason. His voice was thin, his knuckles white. He was having a fun night of his own, Tim was pretty sure. Oh well, that’s what he got for poking around where he didn’t belong.
“Nope. Let me tell you—that put a right bummer into the hero-worship. You did catch him a few days later though. I think B was in space for most of the abduction and let’s be real, if no one calls in a missing person case, how were you supposed to know?“
“That’s—That’s fucked dude.“
Tim shrugged, “You did die because of him, I figure this is a lot tamer in comparison. I don’t even have a lot of long-lasting damage!“
“Not a lot?“ Dick poked. Tim sighed. Well, if they absolutely had to know, he would just get this over with.
“Yeah. I had a bit of Joker gas poisoning, and um, the scars. But those healed pretty well so nobody can really tell. And I guess you’ve noticed the laughter, that starts sometimes I can’t really hold it back all that well. Most of the breaks healed up alright and the rest I dealt with over the next two years. Nowadays it’s really mostly memories. No need to worry“
“The scars?“ Jason asked with morbid curiosity. Tim rubbed at his cheek. “I told you they’re not that visible anymore, but yeah. You know, typical Joker MO“
Jason bend down and inspected the scars. “That’s hardcore dude“
Well, not as hardcore as the literal autopsy scar Jason had.
“Joker-Gas exposure has been known to have long-term effects such as heightened anxiety and a weakened immune system.“ Bruce suddenly said.
“And ´what exactly is new about that? Come on B, you can add it to my file later if you absolutely have to. I’m tired you guys, come on. Can we end this for now?“
“-tt- I suppose“
“Hn“
“Great!“ Tim clapped his hands and stood up, carefully detangling himself from Dick who watched him with guilt-ridden eyes. Great.
Jason offered him a fis-tbump. Tim returned it. That was how all conversations about trauma should end.
He watched the others filter out into the showers, but Dick stayed behind.
“They should’ve noticed, baby bird, you know that, right?“
He shrugged. “I guess. But they were away for like eleven months of the year, a lot of their parenting choices were questionable“
“I’m glad you’re okay now“
Tim smiled tiredly. “Thanks, I’m glad too.“
He turned towards the stairs.
“Goodnight“, Dick called.
“Goodnight!“ Tim replied.
At least nowadays, should he get abducted again, B had about fifty trackers on all of them at all times. Someone would notice, if not, Tim would just escape by himself again. He’d manage.