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Jason hadn’t expected anyone to find him in this part of Gotham — the crumbling, forgotten apartment building hidden behind alleyways and rusted fire escapes. It was his spot, one of the few places left where he could be…just Jason. Where he could exist without the shadow of Robin pressing down like a weight he could never shrug off. In these ruins, he could pretend, just for a little while, that he didn’t care about anything or anyone. He could drown in the city’s noise, letting it muffle the ache inside him without needing to keep up the act of strength he’d worn like armor. Tonight, though, his sanctuary had been invaded.
The door creaked open, the sound echoing through the space, abrupt and grating. Jason stiffened, his hand clenching into a fist as he heard the thin, dark figure slip in. Only Tim could manage that level of quiet, that irritating way of slipping in like a ghost, refusing to be ignored. Jason didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge him. Maybe if he pretended hard enough that Tim wasn’t there, he’d leave. Maybe he’d finally get the hint.
But Tim didn’t leave. He just…stood there. A noiseless shadow in the doorway, his presence a muted persistence that clawed at Jason’s nerves, each second making him feel more cornered, more trapped. The silence grew thick, suffocating, until Jason couldn’t stand it anymore. With a long, frustrated sigh, he finally turned, his eyes narrowed and dark, meeting Tim’s gaze with all the anger he’d spent so long burying.
Tim looked exhausted. Dark circles framed his eyes, stark against his pale, worn face. His shoulders slumped as if he were carrying something invisible and impossibly heavy. Jason almost wanted to ask why he’d come — almost — but he bit his tongue, the bitterness rising up too fast like venom, too thick to swallow down.
Tim’s eyes held his steadily, his expression unreadable, his gaze unwavering. But there was something there, something buried beneath the calm exterior. Jason could see it in the shadows under his eyes, in the stiffness of his stance. Guilt, maybe. Or regret. Jason didn’t know, and he didn’t care to find out.
He wanted to snap, to tell him to leave, to scream at him to get out and never come back. But something about the way Tim just stood there silent and pathetic and so damn patient, made Jason hesitate. Against his will, he found himself waiting, wondering if Tim would finally speak if he’d finally give a reason for barging into this small piece of Jason’s world.
Tim was the first to break the silence, his voice barely more than a whisper as if he were afraid Jason wouldn’t respond. “I need to talk to you, Jason.”
A bitter laugh escaped Jason before he could stop it, sharp and cold and empty. “Yeah? Got something to say, Drake? Or did you just come here to fucking stare?”
Tim took a breath, his hand clenched into a fist at his side, like he was holding himself together. “I didn’t… I didn’t come here to fight,” he said softly, his words trembling at the edges. “I just thought… maybe it was time we talked. Really talked.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed, his voice coming out in a harsh rasp. “Talk? Now you want to talk, asshole? After all this time, you think a little heart-to-heart’s gonna fix everything?” The words felt like acid in his mouth, bitter and scathing.
Tim shook his head, his face weary but resolute. “No, I know it won’t. But I couldn’t keep… pretending this didn’t matter. That you didn’t matter.” His voice cracked on the last words, raw and unsteady, like he’d been holding them back for too long.
Jason clenched his jaw, feeling a familiar anger simmering, dark and all-consuming. He wanted to tell Tim to leave, to get out and let him drown in his own darkness. But Tim’s gaze held him, unflinching, and for a brief, painful moment, Jason felt something shift. Something fragile, something he’d spent so long locking away.
“Fine,” he ground out, his voice rough and broken. “You want to talk? Then talk. But don’t expect me to make this easy on you.”
Tim nodded, his movements tense as he stepped further into the room, closing the door softly behind him. He took a seat on the worn, unstable metal chair in the corner, his posture stiff, like he was bracing himself for whatever Jason would throw at him. Jason’s hands balled into fists as he watched him, the rage still simmering just beneath the surface, but mixed now with something else — something he didn’t want to name.
They stared at each other in silence, the air thick with things unsaid. Finally, Jason broke the silence, his voice a low, jagged whisper. “You don’t get it, do you? You were handed everything. I had to fight for it, to bleed for it. And then… you just walked in and took it. Like none of it mattered.”
Tim’s gaze flicked up, and Jason saw the exhaustion there, the weight of something neither of them could name. “I didn’t take anything from you, Jason. I didn’t…replace you. I didn’t want to replace you.” His voice was so soft, so unsure that he feared the words would shatter if he gave them too much weight.
Jason’s fists clenched harder, his knuckles white as he tried to swallow back the bitterness clawing up his throat. “You don’t get to fucking say that, Tim. You were his perfect little soldier, filling in all the places where I fell short. Where I died.”
“Don’t,” Tim said, his voice sharp, his eyes flaring with an anger Jason hadn’t expected. But it faded almost immediately, replaced by something softer, something sad. “Don’t say that like it doesn’t hurt. Like I didn’t know exactly who I was stepping in for.”
Jason let out a bitter laugh, the sound jagged and hollow. “You think I care what you felt? I was gone, Tim. Just…gone. And the next thing I know, there you are, in my suit, with my family. Acting like I never mattered.”
“That’s not true,” Tim replied, his voice breaking on the words, raw and desperate. “You — he never forgot you, Jason. He mourned you. And I did too.”
The sincerity in Tim’s voice hit Jason like a punch to the gut, and he hated it. Hated how much it hurt, how much it brought back everything he’d tried so hard to bury. He could feel the darkness inside him clawing to the surface, threatening to consume him.
“Why are you here?” Jason’s voice cracked, and he cursed himself for the weakness, for letting even a single shred of vulnerability show.
Tim’s expression softened, and Jason hated the pity in his gaze, the way he looked at him like he was something fragile. “Because, Jason,” Tim said, his voice breaking, “I wanted you to know that it was never about replacing you. You were Robin. You were family, even if we never met. And when you…when you died, I thought…I thought I was honoring you.”
“Honoring me,” Jason spat, the words dense and ugly. “You thought playing hero in my place was honoring me?”
Tim didn’t look away, didn’t flinch, but Jason could see the pain flicker across his face, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Maybe I got it wrong. Maybe I don’t belong. But I couldn’t stand by and do nothing, Jason. You don’t know what it was like, watching Bruce fall apart. Knowing there was nothing anyone could do to bring you back.”
Jason’s throat tightened, a sharp pang of something he didn’t want to acknowledge clawing its way up. He wanted to scream, to shove Tim out and lock the door behind him. But all he could do was ask, in a voice so low it was barely a whisper, “What do you want from me?”
Tim’s gaze held steady, his voice trembling as he answered. “I don’t want anything from you, Jason. I just… I wanted you to know. To understand that I never meant to take your place. That I was never…that I could never be you.”
Jason’s hands shook, his chest aching with something raw, something he’d tried so hard to bury. He turned away, his voice a murmur, so quiet it was almost swallowed by the silence. “You didn’t know me, Tim. You didn’t know what it was like. I was already broken when I put on that mask. Already…lost. And when I died, no one cared. Not really.”
Tim took a step closer, and Jason could hear the sorrow in his voice, thick and heavy. “That’s not true, Jason. You were never forgotten. We all…we all mourned you.”
Jason let out a hollow laugh, his voice echoing through the empty room. “Yeah? And what did that mourning get me, huh? You got to be the hero. You got to take my place. And me?” His voice cracked, rough, and jagged. “I got to crawl out of a grave with nothing left. No family. No home. Just…this empty, burning rage that’s never enough.”
Tim didn’t respond, didn’t argue, or offer empty reassurances. He just stood there, watching Jason with an intensity that bordered on heartbreaking. There was something in his gaze, something Jason couldn’t understand, couldn’t stomach, that looked almost like he was…searching. Searching for something that Jason couldn’t give, didn’t want to give.
“Jason,” Tim whispered, his voice barely audible, as if the weight of his words would shatter in the air. “You’re here now. You survived. You’re still family, even if you don’t believe it. Even if…if you don’t want to be.”
Jason’s vision blurred, and he hated himself for it, for the weakness clawing its way up his throat, for the traitorous tears that stung his eyes. He wiped one away angrily, turning his face from Tim. “Family,” he spat, his voice thick with bitterness. “That’s what you think this is?”
Tim didn’t flinch. He didn’t waver, didn’t turn away, even when Jason’s words hit like barbs. He just stood there, steady and unflinching, watching Jason like he saw past all the anger and hurt and hollow spaces. “Yes, Jason. Even now. Even if you hate me.”
A strangled sound escaped Jason’s throat, half a laugh, half a sob. “You think it’s that fucking simple?” His voice was hoarse, stripped raw. “You think I can just…let go? Ignore everything?”
Tim shook his head, his gaze softening but his voice resolute. “No. I don’t expect you to forget. I don’t expect anything. I just…I wanted you to know. I wanted you to know that it wasn’t like you think. I’ve always looked up to you, even if I didn’t know you. There’s never been a day I didn’t wonder if maybe you’d be the better one. The one who should’ve…”
Jason’s breath caught a sharp, painful intake that felt like glass scraping his lungs. The words cut deeper than he’d thought they could, dredging up memories he’d buried so deep he could barely remember them. Nights spent trying to prove himself, to be someone, anyone, worthy of the mantle he’d worn.
“I don’t want your pity,” he whispered, his voice tight and choked.
Tim’s voice cracked, barely holding steady. “It’s not pity, Jason. It’s…respect. It’s regret. I just want you to know that you weren’t forgotten. That you’re not…alone.”
Jason turned, his vision blurring, his chest tight, feeling more exposed than he’d ever felt in his life. He wanted to push Tim away, to drive him out, to claw at the empty spaces inside him until he felt nothing. But all he could do was stand there, trembling, the darkness inside him twisting and seething.
“You should go,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Before I do something I regret.”
For a moment, he thought Tim would leave, that he’d finally walk away and leave Jason to his solitude, his empty, broken sanctuary. But Tim didn’t move. He just stood there, watching him, his gaze unwavering.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Tim said quietly, his voice steady. “Not until you believe me. Not until you know that no matter how much you try to push me away, I’m not giving up on you.”
Jason clenched his fists, his knuckles white, his whole body trembling with a surge of emotion he couldn’t control, couldn’t name. It was too much, too raw, too painful. And yet, as he looked at Tim, at the stubborn determination in his eyes, something inside him cracked, something he’d thought was long dead.
“Why?” he choked out, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Why can’t you just…leave me alone?”
Tim took a step closer, his gaze never leaving Jason’s, his voice soft but unwavering. “Because you’re worth saving, Jason. Even if you don’t believe it. Even if you don’t want to be, I see you — the real you. The one who fought so hard to survive, who came back stronger than any of us could imagine. And I won’t walk away from that.”
Jason felt his chest tighten, the words sinking in, hitting deeper than he’d thought possible. For so long, he’d been the one who’d been abandoned, who’d been forgotten, who’d been left to fend for himself. And now, here was Tim, standing before him, refusing to leave, refusing to give up on him. It was almost unbearable, the weight of it, the truth of it.
He turned away, his voice barely a whisper, hoarse and broken. “I don’t know if I can believe that.”
Tim didn’t push, didn’t argue. He just nodded, his gaze softening, his voice gentle. “That’s okay. Just…let me be here. Just let me…try."
Jason’s heart pounded, his fists still clenched, but his rage felt hollow, like a suit of armor he’d grown too tired to carry. He wanted to scream, to shout at Tim that it wasn’t that easy, that it could never be that simple. But his voice betrayed him, catching in his throat, leaving him silent and exposed.
Tim didn’t fill the silence with empty words. He simply stayed there, a quiet, stubborn presence that refused to fade, refused to retreat. He waited, the weight of his presence settling in the space between them, thick and unbreakable.
After what felt like an eternity, Jason finally spoke, his voice hoarse and cracked. “You think just being here changes anything? That it…that it makes up for all the times I was alone?”
“No,” Tim replied softly, shaking his head, his gaze gentle but unwavering. “I know it doesn’t. I know nothing I say can undo what you’ve been through. But maybe… maybe it’s enough just to stand here. Just to let you know that you’re not isolated in this, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”
Jason swallowed hard, the bitterness rising up in him again, twisting with the ache of old scars. “I’ve been alone my whole life, Tim. Even before I met Bruce. Even when I was Robin. And now… I’m just a ghost in my own life. I’m not Jason Todd. I’m not Robin. I’m… nothing. A mistake he’d rather forget.”
Tim stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper, the sincerity in it almost painful to hear. “You’re not a mistake, Jason. You’re a part of this family, whether you want to be or not. You’re more than just a memory, more than just… anger. You’re you. And that’s enough.”
Jason clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar rage clawing up, but it was tinged with something else now, something he didn’t want to face. His voice broke as he spoke, barely a murmur. “I don’t know who I am anymore, Tim. I don’t know… how to be anything other than this.”
Tim’s hand rested on Jason’s shoulder, a gentle pressure that Jason hadn’t felt in so long — a connection, a tether to something he hadn’t thought he could feel again. But the darkness inside him twisted, deeper, darker than he’d ever let anyone see. His hands trembled as he looked away, trying to fight down the swell of emotions clawing up his throat.
“What if…” Jason’s voice wavered, barely audible, lost in a hollow whisper, “What if I can’t be saved, Tim? What if there’s nothing left? What if all that’s here is the rage?”
Tim’s grip tightened, a silent refusal, his gaze steady and firm. “Then I’ll stay. No matter how much you push me away, no matter how much you think you’re too far gone, Jason, I’ll stay. You don’t have to carry this alone.”
Jason turned to him, his eyes glinting in the dim light, haunted, desperate. “You don’t get it. You’re clinging to a ghost, Tim. I was gone the day I crawled out of that grave. There’s nothing left here worth saving.”
Tim shook his head, refusing to let go. “You’re wrong, Jason. I see you. You’re still here, and I—” But before he could finish, Jason’s fist shot out, connecting with Tim’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. Jason’s voice broke, raw and jagged.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare look at me like that, like I’m worth anything to you!” He was shaking, his entire body trembling with a surge of grief and fury that had nowhere to go, nothing to lash out against but the only person who’d ever tried to stay.
Tim straightened, wiping the blood from his lip, his gaze a flicker of pain mingled with determination. He didn’t move to defend himself, didn’t try to retaliate, just stood there, looking at Jason with that same unbreakable resolve.
Jason’s breath hitched as he realized Tim wasn’t going to leave, wasn’t going to give up on him, no matter how hard he tried to push him away. A sob clawed its way up his throat, bitter and broken, but he swallowed it back, forcing himself to stand firm, to be the weapon he’d become.
“Why?” he whispered, the word fractured, almost pleading. “Why can’t you just let me go?”
Tim stepped closer, his voice barely a whisper, the quiet words carrying more weight than Jason could bear. “Because I love you, Jason. And no matter how much you hate me, no matter how hurt you feel, that isn’t going to change.”
For a brief moment, Jason faltered, the anger in his gaze flickering, his expression caught between rage and something else, something so raw and vulnerable it made him feel sick. But the darkness surged up, drowning it out, consuming the last fragile thread of hope he hadn’t known he was holding on to.
“No,” Jason said, his voice a deadly whisper. “No, you don’t. You love the idea of me. The idea. But I’m not that person anymore. I’m nothing but a hollow shell, a busted weapon. And I won’t let you cling to a lie.”
Tim’s eyes filled with tears, and Jason felt his heart twist, a final, cruel pang that ripped through him, hollowing him out. Before he could think, before he could stop himself, Jason reached out, gripping Tim’s collar and pulling him close. His voice was low, broken, as he whispered in Tim’s ear.
“Walk away, Tim. Forget me. Because the Jason Todd you think you know…died a long time ago.”
Tim didn’t respond, didn’t move, just let the tears slip down his face, silent and unyielding. But Jason could feel it, the fracture in Tim’s resolve, the last shred of hope breaking under the weight of his words. And, as he pulled away, the silence between them felt more uncaring, emptier than it ever had before.
Tim took one last look at him, his face a mask of shattered determination, and finally turned, walking away, leaving Jason alone in the darkness, in the silence, in the emptiness that had become his only home.
And as the door clicked shut behind Tim, Jason sank to the floor, the hollow ache inside him spreading until he felt nothing at all.
For the first time, he was truly alone.