Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

What do you do when there is nothing left for you. Every part of you replaced, every task taken over by somebody else.

What is there to do as a shadow, existing behind the people who truly matter. When the clock isn’t even ticking anymore, because it has run out of time for you.

They all have. Because time is the one thing truly limited in this world, and you require none of it. You are just there, floating alone, waiting until someone's attention makes you visible.

Time.

The curse of humans has always been that they paid too close attention to it. Counting every second, every minute of it, valuing it on a golden scale. Even measuring it in the first place must’ve been a mistake.

He would’ve preferred to never know what it was. Not having to know how much of it he had left and how much had passed. Not putting limits on every task, worrying about each second passing.

Not having to see them sliding by, counting the minutes as they stretched into eternity.
And yet, Tim had set himself a timer. A countdown. A limit. Because if he could not get rid of time itself by sleeping at ridiculous hours, fluctuating his schedule so that he was on a new one every week, he wanted to be in control of it.

It was ridiculous to wait on your own death. Trying to guess when it would arrive or running from it, only for the grim reaper to stare you dead in the eyes one day. He wanted to meet him on his own terms.

So he set himself a countdown. One year to live life to its fullest, not putting things off for the next time or waiting around. He had told himself that he wouldn’t let a single chance go, that this would lead him to becoming the greatest version of himself.

He wasn’t sure if he had kept that promise. But at least he was quite contempt with what was now awaiting him.

Tims feet were dangling off the top of the skyscraper he had sneaked up on. He had told Bruce that he would be out on a secret mission with Young Justice, and then he told Kon that he was on an undercover mission with Batman. Both were sure to tell anyone else who was worrying, and it would take long enough for either side to go in contact with each other, seeing as both would think the other was unreachable due to a mission.

9pm. He didn’t know why he had gotten up so early, considering that the plan had been to go through with his plan at midnight.

Maybe he had grown tired of living already. Quite a shame considering that he had only done it for a year. Tim didn’t count the years before, they seemed quite insignificant at this moment. Nothing else had really mattered since he became

Robin.

The magic mantle, supposed to turn lifes’ brightness up by a tenfold and give him wings. Wings to fly the sky, see the beauties of the World.

But for him, there had been nothing.

The colors of the suit had lost it’s magic with the Blood that spilled on it, even after he had gotten his own. Made it his own, changed the design, tried to make it work again. But the Magic had evaporated with the death of a kid who had smiled so brightly, it made him light up even brighter in those traffic light colored shorts.

The secrets of Robin had refused to reveal themselves to him. Perhaps it was because he was wrong. He was never meant to be Robin, he wasn’t chosen. He was a necessary replacement, a substitute. Like Applemouse instead of Eggs in a recipe for Chocolate Cake. Changed the flavour and texture, just enough so that the recipe stopped being popular, but not enough for anyone to point it out.

Enough to be bad, not bad enough to be noticed.

Close enough to Jason to get called by his name, not skilled enough to fill the hole that his predecessor had left.

It hadn’t even been a month since the last time it happened. Bruce called out for him, casually, not even turning around. Not until he saw Tim, and that slightly disappointed, slightly guilty look snuck back to his face. The look that revealed that while Bruce was trying to give Tim his best, he would still wish that it was Jason looking back at him every time.
The look that revealed that if it wasn’t necessary, he wouldn’t have wanted Tim to be Robin. The look that revealed that Bruce was very glad that he wasn’t an orphan so that he wouldn’t be bound to him in case a better option came along.

He couldn’t blame Bruce. He hadn’t been a very good Robin. He was smart, he followed the training plan, but he didn’t have what Dick or Jason had.

Tim had watched them for years, admired the way they flew through the sky of Gotham. He thought that when he took up the mantle, he would feel what he had seen on them. Wonder, Magic, Hope.

But he had just been… Him.

Not enough.

Not even enough to remember him by his name.

Not enough to be noticed if he was gone. He would just be a footnote. The great first Robin, who led to all other heroes taking in their own prodiges! The amazing second Robin, spreading hope with his bright smile, Gothams sweetheart!
Wait, wasn’t there a third one too?

But he had only been Robin for a year.

Surely Bruce would replace him within a timely manner. Maybe pretend like the one after him had been there all along.

After all, there was no reason to worry the people of Gotham. Another one of their birds dead would just bring panic. Why risk that?

And Timothy Drake?

His parents would surely find a way to make sure that the press was speaking in their favour. They had spent their lives on the fortune he was supposed to inherit, and the lack of an heir did not make it any less important.

Not when it had always been prioritised over said heir anyways.

At first he had taken his phone with him, as he would usually on an undercover mission. Maybe the reason he hadn’t immediately turned it off was because he had been scared. Scared to be alone with his own thoughts.

Even when it was already to late, when his insecurities and failures were already walking him to his own demise, he was still too scared to look them in the eye. No, Tim preferred to stare at a screen instead, dreading the sound of a notification coming in as he scrolled through Pinterest.

No one had messaged him yet. That was good. No one worried, no one cared to check up on him. Of course, they wouldn’t think he needed to be checked up on. Tim had always been strong, independent. Refusing to let others help him, lying when they asked him how he was so that he could push through whatever was going on. It was easy.

He had never wanted help.

But a tiny part of him wished for some right now. Whether it was help with ending it, finally pushing him over the damn edge he was sitting on, or help with getting off.

Someone who would care enough to convince him to care about himself too.

But he had long written that off as impossible. Or at least something he didn’t need, didn’t want. Tim would decide this for himself. And his decision was made, it was final, he just needed to follow through on it now.

It was easy, really. He was already sitting there, the edge of the building digging into his thighs as his feet dangeled into the nothingness beneath him. His phone was laying in some bush half an hour away, smashed by being stomped on repeatedly. The only thing he had left now were an old music player and the cable headphones that went with it from Dicks’ room. It was different music than he would usually listen to, but it felt fitting. Tim had spent half of the day loading new tracks onto the device, trying to at least give his death a nice soundtrack.

It was quite Ironic how much he cared about this while throwing his life away like a used tissue.

The things he had packed for the “undercover mission” had been abandoned in a hidden place near an entrance to the batcave, along with the Robin suit he had been wearing when he first left the manor.

Robin couldn’t die again.

Timothy Drake had to.

Perhaps that was why he had never truly been Robin. Because Robin was magic, and Robin was alive. Bleeding only when Injured in a fight, stitched up in the MedBay.

Tim had never really felt alive. He was there, sure, but he had never really been living. As hard as he tried to, it all still felt so detached, so unreal. He tried to bring himself back, snap out of the trance that had kept him prisoner his whole life, tried to slice through the clouds that occupied his brain with sharp razor blades.

Yet when he did, it had only ever bled red, clouding his view more. Left were only marks, ugly and pink, separating him more and more from the life he wished for.

Nothing could help him. He was sure of that.

So he was here to help everyone around him now.

The clock on the Ipod now showed 11.58 pm.

Tim took out the headphones, placing them gently on the floor next to him. Someone would find it eventually, maybe use it again. It was quite a nice device after all, playing music without the fear of someone texting him or the addictiveness of Social Media.

He looked down one last time, a rush of emotions flooding through him. It was hard to tell whether they consisted of relief or fear, but it didn’t matter now. Another look up at the sky, silently counting the few stars he could see.

It was a cloudy night.

Tim took a deep breath, his hands finding their place on the edge of the building, ready to push him over.

He heard something rumble behind him, maybe some security guards who had noticed that there was someone on the roof, but he ignored it.

One Push.

And finally,

Timothy Drake was flying now.
Truly flying.
Not trying too hard as Robin, swinging over buildings chasing the glory of a ghost.

He was himself, and he had grown the wings he had been searching for all along.

Chapter Text

It had not exactly been an easy Day. Trying to make place for himself in a city already overcrowded with Villains was not exactly an easy task either. Especially when his entire plan had just been derailed by some Idiots who thought that he wouldn’t actually care if they dealt to Kids.

Fucking hell, gotta do everything yourself these days, right?

So, he had to make a new to-do list. First point: make a statement. And not in the pearl-necklace way, this would have to go more into the bloodied-bodies direction.

Gotham had never learned without blood spilling down her streets, mixing in with the sewage water and dirt. Just like Batman never learned. He outright refused to.

Dead kid? Great, let's send out the next one! Crime rate staying the same while dozens of Goons are now in the hospital? Let's keep vigilanting just the same!

Batman had always looked away, refusing to look at the rotten system truly causing the crime he claimed to be fighting. But Red Hood would be different. He would clean Gotham up, and if that meant drowning her in Bleach until the Rot was extinguished, he wouldn’t hesitate.

Anyway, that was the kinda stuff for dramatic monologues he thought about holding when trying to fall asleep at 4am. At the moment he was kind of busy carrying three mostly unconscious men up a skyscraper.

The things he did to get his other Goons to listen. It was like they were deaf to anything that wasn’t money. But how could Jason blame them, he would’ve probably grown up to be just like them. To be one of them, even.

Still, he couldn’t let a violation of the only rule he had set go this easily. He had to show them that profits didn’t matter more than the moral code he wanted to establish. Jason needed to tell them that humanity was something that they should value again, even if it went against everything that they had seen and lived ever since fate decided to bring them to this rotten City.

Finally, he got the first guy onto the rooftop. He took a deep breath, looking up slightly and-
Someone was sitting there. On the damn rooftop where he was trying to throw 3 men off of.

Oh Fuuuu-

Okay no that looked strange. That hand placement, the Ipod laying on the side, that slight hesitation before-

Oh fuck. This was a suicide.

Normally, Jason wouldn’t care. Sit there quietly and let them go on with their plan. After all, he had often wished to do it after being revived, and he was certain that he wouldn’t appreciate some stranger coming up to him and telling how ‘life is worth it’ or something. But this?

The figure was small, almost tiny. A lot like what he must’ve looked like at 15. An Adult of this size wouldn’t have survived long in this part of Gotham. And he really didn’t need anyone to think that he had some kid working for him just because it fell off the same roof that his henchmen did. Plus, carrying them to another skyscraper was just way too much work after having spent a whole hour on this one.

So, saving the Kid it is.

His plans really did not work that day.

Jason ran to the edge as fast as he could, not even trying to talk the fiure down anymore. The kid was already about to push itself over so the only thing that could save it now was-
It jumped. He jumped. It looked like a boy. Like-

Doesn’t matter. Where’s the damn Grapple gun oh fu-

Okay there. Got him. Looks like he broke a few bones because of the way Jason caught him, but he was safe now. Just had to slowly roll the Grapple gun back in and get this kid some medical attention. Easy, right?

As everything that day, it turned out to be not easy at all. Man, something in the Universe must really hate Jason.

The moment he finally pulled the kid over the edge of the building, he felt relieved. The worst part was done, now he just had to-

But the kid had other plans. He launched forward, grabbing Jason by the throat and pinning him to the floor. Well, his back and legs might’ve been injured, but at least his arms seemed fine, because they were strangling him with more power than he would’ve expected from a tiny kid like this.

Jason had been right, the boy looked around 15. He also had a striking similarity to that Timothy kid Bruce had gotten to replace him as Robin. But it couldn’t be him, there were still too many differences between them. The kid that was choking him now had something different in his face, something Jason couldn’t recognize even after hours of staring at pictures of the boy that had taken his place.

“Why did you stop me? You had no right to stop me you-” The kid started screaming, crying too, Jason couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or genuine sadness that he was still alive. Eventually he must’ve realized that it was kind of hard for Jason to answer while he was still having his airways cut off by a tiny gremlin, so he switched to slamming his head on the floor and holding one of his hands down instead.

“Get the Grapple off of me.”

Jason tried to fight the little beast off, but he was met with a lot more force and resistance than he had expected. This kid was certainly anything but weak, stronger than the boys that had grown up in crime alley even. How a boy this size still had this much strength without special training was a mystery to Jason, he would ask about it later if he hadn’t already left by the time that the kid would stop screaming for long enough to be asked a question.
Eventually, Jason managed to get the boy off of him, immediately holding him down so that he wouldn’t get a chance to get out of the Grapple hook and jump again.

“Hold- still- for- a second- will you-?” Jason got out, trying to keep the Kid in place. He didn’t seem to want to comply though, only trying to fight him off even harder.

“Please I wont- I won't force you to anything just-” Finally, after a bit of more fighting, the Kid gave up. Then, he looked at Jason closely for a second, seemingly trying to figure out if he could really trust him. Damn, the Kid was starting to look more like Timothy every second now.

“No Hospitals.” The gremlin stated, further elaborating, “Not for my Injuries and not for my mental state.”

Jason just sighed, throwing his head back in annoyance. This was going to be a long night. Seriously, where did he sign up to be Gods strongest soldier, because he certainly did not feel like fighting all these fucking battles. But, one thing at a time, he still had to throw his guys off the damn roof. While making sure the kid didn’t kill himself. Great.

“Okay, let's make a deal. You stay here until I’m done, then I can patch you up a bit. If you still need to kill yourself by tomorrow we can arrange that. That alright with you?” Jason really did not need a Kid on his consciousness, no matter how much trouble it was to keep this one alive.

The boy made a face at first, clearly not wanting to wait even another minute with the whole dying thing. Man, what made this whole thing so urgent for the kid, he barely even had a life to run from in the damn first place. Well, it wasn’t like Jason had much either, being only 17 physically and having been kind of dead, or half dead, or in a coma, or whatever for a solid 2 years of those 17. But dying at 15 was early. Way too damn early. He would know after all.

“I can also just carry you to the next hospital and tell them that you tried to kill yourself so that they’ll call your parents or whatever and send you to the psych ward in the next city over right away.” He shrugged, trying to make the kid believe that he truly didn’t care. It was easier to not appear like he had any personal feelings about this. Feelings could influence how he dealt with this in the end, if the Kid still wanted to die after the day he had asked for. “Your choice.”

"Fine. Just” he started fighting back again, trying to free himself, “get off me already!”

Jason did just that, slowly backing off, still keeping a close watch on the kid in case he tried anything sudden. But he only got the Grapple hook that was still clawed around his lower abdomen, off.

Just as Jason was about to turn around he saw in the corner of his eye that the kid was nearing the edge again. Oh fuck he could not trust this boy.

He jumped onto the kid as fast as he could, holding him back from going any further towards the end of the roof.

“Hey! I just wanted to get my damn headphones you-” He landed a punch to Jason's face, “absolute Idiot!”

Fucking hell the kid was feisty. That was most certainly going to turn into a nasty bruise. But Jason figured after he had probably broken at least one bone while catching the kid with the grapple, a bruise in return was probably fair.

He grabbed the headphones that were just about in his reach, throwing them more towards the center of the roof. “There.” he looked back at the kid, “You go sit where it’s safe. If I catch you on the edge again I swear to any god in the damn universe I will tie you up until you can’t even try to kill yourself anymore.”

That threat should be enough to keep the kid safe. Hopefully. Goddamn Jason was so done with this shit.

So, back to business. He still had to throw his ex-goons off the roof. Right. The first one was still laying on the entry to the roof. He would finish that one first and then get the other two still on the bottom of the stairs where the elevator ended, right before the top of the building.

It wasn’t a big deal. Carry the guy to the edge where the kid had just sat, throw him off and done. He just had to move a bit quicker now, a batman encounter would really make this already fucked up day just perfect.

He went back quickly, already half down the stairs when he heard it.

“What the fuck did they do to you man?” The voice must’ve been coming from the top of the stairs. Damn it, of course the kid wouldn’t just let him do his job in peace. With his luck the boy would fancy himself a hero right now and need to save these to-kids-dealing-fucked-up-goons. Someone fuck him gently with a chainsaw why did he not just let the damn goblin die.

Well, Jason figured it would probably be best to just be honest about the situation. He could still tie the kid up if he protested.

“Dealt to kids after I told them not to.”

“Oh.”

A few seconds later the kid was suddenly on the other side of the body he was carrying. What even-

“I’ll help. Gotta be fast before Batman hears about this right?”

“Right.”

Apparently he didn’t fancy himself a hero, but rather a goon. Great news for the kids’ future. At least he was fairly strong, so they both were actually a lot faster than Jason had expected. The kid didn’t help him throw them off the building, but he hadn’t expected him to.

Didn’t want him to.

He was just a kid.

A bit before the edge he told the kid to stop and stay. He couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t let those little hands be covered in blood already.

The kid would have enough time to kill others once he himself was a bit older.

Eventually, he and the kid both left the skyscraper, getting on Jason's motorcycle.

“You got here by bicycle or something? Because a helmet would really be helpful right now”

The kid looked down as he was going to admit something shameful.

“No, I walked”

That was strange, but okay. The part of town was pretty abandoned, not much there besides factories and a few offices, but maybe the kid lived here or something. Who was Jason to guess that. He just needed to save his life, not write his Biography.

And saving his life would probably become even more difficult if he split his skull open on the pavement.

He took off his helmet and handed it to the kid, the Domino Mask underneath still hiding his Identity good enough. Hesitantly, the boy took the Helmet and put it on his head. It was a bit too big, so it fit a bit weirdly, but it should be fine. He just needed to get this kid home to treat his injuries now.

Chapter Text

Tim felt utterly useless. Like an empty vessel, wiped clean and ready to be thrown away. Only to be put back into the fridge, disappointing everyone who searched for anything within him.

He had not even been able to kill himself. After a year of planning, making sure no one would worry about him, leaving no possibility in which he would survive the night, he had failed to think about a stranger bursting in.

Maybe because strangers in Gotham typically don’t care enough about someone killing themselves to do anything about it. They have their own worries, their own struggles. He would probably get pickpocketed while going cold on the pavement, that was what he had expected at least.

Certainly not… This. A random guy, a Villain at that, insisting on keeping him alive. While, might he add, his so called saviour was busy killing 3 other people. Really, Tim could not figure this guy out. He didn’t even know his name.

And yet, for some reason, he wanted Tim to live.

It was weird. This random stranger cared more about Tims life than Tim himself. What could possibly be the reason for him to care this much. Did he loose someone to suicide? Was he trying to redeem himself by saving Tim after he couldn’t save someone else?

Whatever it was, he couldn’t find himself to care much about it. Whoever this asshole was and for whatever reason he had done it, he had saved Tim, and probably fractured 3 of his ribs in the process. And now he had gotten him on his motorcycle, wearing the damn guys helmet.

Which all in all meant another day of waiting. Another day of praying that neither Bruce nor Kon would spot him somehow, or figure out that there was no undercover mission.

At the very least, his parents were on another business trip, so it would take at least another month before they noticed anything.

Tim wouldn’t be missed. If anyone was searching for him, they would’ve found him by now. He had been out for hours, swinging around as Robin, then walking the final distance to that damn skyscraper in civilian clothing.

If they had cared to check the logs, they would’ve noticed that there was no undercover mission that he had possibly could’ve gone on.

He hadn’t been the best at hiding his tracks.

Maybe he had hoped that they would figure it out after all. That they cared enough to notice his change in behaviour and see it as a sign.

Or maybe he had just always been weird. Maybe they didn’t see the signs because they were all he had ever been.

Suicidal.

Either way, no one had shown up. He wouldn’t even know if anyone texted him to check up on him, seeing as his phone was smashed in a bush somewhere around Gotham. Now that he was alive after all, it had been a pretty awful decision. Yes, most of his data was saved to his laptop, but all of his contacts and-

Well. Those weren’t exactly things he had been concerned about when he was certain that he would be dead by midnight.

At least he still had the IPod. But all the music did was remind him. Remind him that he had failed at the one goal he had set for himself. That he was still alive even after trying his best to just not be.

Tim was so disappointed. He had planned everything, all of his life leading up to this day. It was all over now. He had nothing going for him anymore. Nothing to achieve, no project left to finish. No one who would miss him, not after he had been bitchy and mean to them for the past few weeks.

There was nothing more for him to do, no life to live. He had given it up in order to die in peace. But yet, he was still forced to keep living this cruel life, except now with 3 more bruised ribs and probably some other Injuries he hadn’t yet been able to identify.

What a great start to this new day.

And on top of that, he had just assisted this random stranger in killing 2 men and was now sitting on the back of his motorcycle. Had he gone completely insane?

Well, that was probably kind of a silly question. After all, killing yourself was good enough a reason to get a nice little space in a psych ward, even in a place like Gotham where the next mental hospital was in another city entirely. But Tim didn’t feel insane. He felt normal. This had always been his version of normal.

Maybe that was the actual insane part of this.

The fact that he didn’t care that he had tried to end it, just that he had failed.

Every breath he took felt so wrong. Like even the air around him knew that he wasn’t supposed to be here, that his heart should’ve stopped beating the moment he stepped on that rooftop.

He shouldn’t have waited. He should’ve just gotten it over with, freeing everyone around him from having to care. What right did he have now to complain that they hadn’t shown up after he had pushed everyone away, after having been an absolute nuisance in their lives since the moment he had entered them?

Timothy Drake had to die so the people around him could live. Be free of him.

Timothy Drake had to die so that Robin could live.

It was nothing more than a fact. With him, Robin had lost his spark. His magic. The Robin mantel had become empty the moment he tried to fill it. And what was Gotham without Batman and Robin?

This stranger probably put more lives in danger by saving him than he would’ve if he just let him die.

~~~

Tim had never believed in an afterlife. You die, then you’re gone. Plain and simply. There was just nothing. The relief he had always been searching for. He wouldn’t have to exist anymore, he wouldn’t bother anyone, he wouldn’t suffer simply from being himself.

But maybe, a part of that belief had been attributed to the fact that he had been terrified to meet the dead.

Specifically, one person. One person whose entire legacy he had ruined, put to shame.

He couldn’t imagine how disappointed the second Robin, Jason Todd, would be if he saw what Robin had become. That the suit that was supposed to die with him lived on in the wrongest way possible. That all that had made Robin Robin had been stripped off of him, just so another kid could pretend to be a hero.

All he really was was a thief. He stole an identity, a life, from a dead person. Tim wasn’t good, he was outright despicable.

Which was why he should’ve died. Should be dead right now. Buried in a few days, far away from Jason, any association that had ever connected the two buried with him.

He wouldn’t have the Wayne name on his grave, nor would they come.

Sometimes he had wondered if Dick would cry after finding out he had died.

Then he remembered the distant looks Dick had given him at the start, the fights he had walked in on him having with Bruce. “You can’t replace Jason” he had screamed, in a hundred different versions, over and over and over again.

He had been a placeholder, a vessel of their grief. And he was happy being that. But now, they had started to move on.

And Tim really didn’t know where that left him.

And then, there was Young Justice. And Kon. His best friend. The Guy he’d had a crush on for the last 3 months.

He hoped that Kon would just forget about this. After all, they did have that big fight. Tim was sure what Kon had said there was true, and not all the apologies after.

That way he didn’t have to worry about hurting the one person he had always relied on, trusted, loved.

He wouldn’t have to worry about his team. He had only been there to be the leader. The sole human, there for his leadership abilities. But Cassie had taken over that now. And it was great, she was great.

It just meant that he wasn’t needed anymore.

Which was fine on his part. He didn’t want to be needed after all.

They had finally arrived at whatever location this guy was bringing him too. For the first time, Tim noticed that maybe it had been an awful Idea to just randomly trust him. But what did it matter? If he wanted to kill him, he could be his guest. One short and painless death, please.

He got off the bike and reached up to take off the way-too-big helmet, but in the very second that he stood on his own legs, dizziness overtook him, his vision suddenly splitting into thousands of little colourful pieces of glass.

To his disappointment, Tim woke up soon after. He shot up out from where he was laying, realising it wasn’t the pavement that he had fainted on anymore. Instinctively, he tried to get up to run, but a hand pushed him back down almost immediately.

“Stay still. I’m not done yet.” Only now did Tim realize that he must be in… well, the strangers apartment, probably? It looked more like a mini hospital, equipment laying everywhere, but it looked like everything one would need for immediate medical care was there. The bed he was laying on even looked like a regular hospital bed.

What kind of guy just had access to a mini hospital? Well, he had seen something like this before, in the batcave and the headquarters of young justice, but this was just one regular villain. How the actuall fuck could he afford this?

And on top of that, he was actually bandaging Tims wounds? The bandages that had already been finished seemed to be made perfectly, up to Bruce’s standards even.

Now that his mind started slowly working normally again, he tried to figure out who this guy could be. He had memorized the trademarks of almost every villain in Gotham, surely he would figure it out.

But he didn’t exactly have much to go off. A red helmet, leather jacket, motorcycle…

The only guy who really fit that was that new one. Red… something. Trying to take over the drug trade. Only one brief encounter with Batman on a night that he had been out with Young Justice.

Now him throwing those goons off the roof started to make sense.

The one thing he couldn’t seem to figure out was why he had saved him. Why he was stitching him up in his own apartment/hospital. Why did he care about Tim?

No one who knew him had. What reason could a stranger possibly have to go to all these lengths, to put in this much effort, for someone like

Him.

Tim should probably figure out some kind of strategy to get out of here, or to get information on this Red-whatever-it-was-again guy. But still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to go behind his back again. Not after he had trusted Tim enough to bring him here.

And what did it matter if he got Information on him anyway? He wouldn’t be able to relate it to anyone anyway. Not when they all still thought that he was on some undercover mission.

So the best option seemed to be just… staying there until he was sent away again. He had said after one day he would let him kill himself if he still wanted to.

Maybe Tim would be able to figure out why this stranger felt that it was his duty to ensure he was alive.

The stranger stepped back, taking a last look at the bandages he had put on Tim as if to check if he had made any mistakes. Then he sat down by his bed, looking down on the floor.

“You had a few cracked ribs, nothing else was really damaged except for your side.” He pointed to a spot on his waist which was covered by the most bandages. “The Grapple kinda stabbed you there, which caused the blood loss that made you pass out earlier.”

Oh. So it wasn’t the exhaustion again. Great to know.

With the normality returning to his brain also came back the cold, sharp clarity that he was alive. That he actually, really tried to end things.

And that he had failed.

Tim didn’t want to see this stranger anymore, didn’t want to figure out anything about him. He just wanted to be alone, to rot in the knowledge that he was a failure even at killing himself. He wanted to call himself pathetic 50 times over, stare at the ceiling and question why fate had kept him here despite his existence clearly being a mistake. An Inconvenience.

He wanted to trace along the lines he had previously left on his stomach and thighs, walk along his collection of pain and add new memories to it. After hiding them from everyone ever since he had started, changing in toilets when he had to attend PE and wearing shirts when going to the beach, he couldn’t even bring himself to care that this complete stranger had seen every little line that haunted his skin.

Pathetic. A weakness that could be used against him. A part of him that he had never wanted anyone to see. One of his best kept secrets.

And he didn’t care.

Tim turned around on his side, trying to hide his face in the way too thin sheets of the hospital bed. He wished this guy would just go away, leave him with the things scattered all around the room. Surely he’d find something sharp enough.

Maybe he’d manage to die that way at least.

Still, he felt impolite to ask for him to leave in his own home. Maybe, if he just pretended to be asleep, he would be left alone.

“I know you really need to rest right now, but I’ve got some questions-” The stranger started, and Tim already wanted to jump out of the window. He didn’t want to ‘talk about his feelings’. He didn’t wanna get told that ‘it gets better’. He couldn’t hear it anymore. Everyone he had ever told, every google search he had ever made and every therapist he had ever talked to had all been the same.

He wasn’t fixable. He was broken beyond repair, and this new guy certainly wouldn’t be any different.

The stranger seemed to notice the shift in his demeanor, and quickly came up with a counter offer.

“You get to ask me one in return. So I ask one, you answer, then you ask. And so on. No lies. That work for you?”

Well. That at least didn’t sound like he was trying to make Tim his little DIY fix it project. And if he wasn’t going to leave him alone, he could at least find out some stuff about the guy.

Chapter Text

Jason felt like his heart broke into a million little pieces.

He could remember being 15 so vividly. The first signs of teenage angst started to show, but still, he had been a child. A kid, free and flying under the colors of the Robin mantle.

Yet what he was now confronted with was so incredibly heartbreaking. Another 15 year old on the verge of death, but this one wasn’t fighting it. No, he had been inviting death in, slicing off pieces of himself to lure the grim reaper in.

This kid was his polar opposite, and yet, Jason felt himself relating to him. Empathising. Thinking back to the times in which he fought with no fear, not caring for a single second if the next hit would send him back into a grave that he never should’ve left in the first place.

He had been so sure that the world would be a better place without him. He was murderous, felt like he had stolen the life he had been given from someone else. Only half alive, his body still reminded him of the corpse it had once been. From his autopsy scar to the unbearable stiffness and pain in his limbs when it got cold, it felt like he was sharing a vessel with death itself. Like he had only borrowed it for some time, ready to hand it back over at any time.

Jason had done nothing truly good for anyone since coming back. He should’ve stayed back in his grave, where he lay a hero. Instead he had woken up a villain, destroying the boy he had been before and the world he had sought to create.

But what could this boy, this child have possibly done to think that he didn’t deserve something as simple as life.

What could possibly haunt his little head?

The clothes he had been wearing looked anything but cheap. Sure, a little torn, some blood stains on them (some from being stabbed by Jasons grapple gun, some probably from… Jason couldn’t think about it. It was just-), but overall pretty nice.

They had been pretty oversized though. Maybe from an older sibling? But they probably would’ve looked a lot older, been more worn in…

Either way, this kid didn’t look like he would’ve ever had to worry about anything. Besides the things Jason had only seen due to his Injuries, he was well taken care of.

One of the kids he would’ve hated. Well taken care of. Never had to worry about money a day in his life. Parents who picked him up from school instead of stumbling around crime alley, looking for the next fix.

One of those kids who had everything he had ever wished for.

And yet, he was the one who had tried to kill himself tonight. The one with scars upon scars on his skin, methodical yet messy, flowing down his stomach and thighs like a waterfall, changing colors the more you looked down. It was clear that the ones at the top, the least visible ones were the oldest, slowly turning into less healed cuts and even fresh wounds the further down on his body he looked.

Like a map of pain, telling silent tales of the tragedies that must’ve weighed over this kid's life.

Although Jason had found no wounds from the fall on the kids legs, he had still bandaged them up. Disinfected the streaks that couldn’t have been older than a day at most.

And once again he asked himself what could’ve caused this. He couldn’t explain it to himself, couldn’t make sense of what was going on in this child's brain, no matter how hard he tried.

The easiest way would be to just ask him. But how do you ask someone that?

Hey, did your parents beat you or something? Did you go to church and were too close with the priest?

What did life do to you?

What broke you?

So he settled for the more… easy questions. He had never been the best at reading people, but he wasn’t completely awful either. Maybe he could still figure out at least something.

“What’s your name?” the kid seemed surprised, probably having expected a question more related to what had happened. But Jason needed to know.

Totally not because he wanted to look him up and check what his deal was.

Okay, maybe partially. But also because the author of this fic was tired of constantly using synonyms of ‘child’ to refer to him.

He hesitated for longer than Jason had expected, before seemingly brushing whatever doubts he seemed to have aside and answering.

“Tim.”

“Just Tim? Isn’t that short for something? Or like, do you have a last name?” Jason tried to dig deeper. Because a really bad feeling was emerging in him now.

That kid he had looked so awfully similar too.

The new Robin. The kid who had taken his place.

Timothy Drake.

“If you want my full name you gotta tell me yours too.” the kid- no, wait, Tim, answered, almost overconfident. Well, if he was the new Robin, he sure would’ve figured out what villain he was by now, and that his Identity was a very well kept secret.

“Justin Balko” he responded, trying to put all his confidence into the lie. Usually he was great at lying.

Not this time, apparently.

Tim just rolled his eyes and sat up in his bed. “You seriously expect me to believe that? Come on as if you’d tell me your name. You even have a damn Domino mask under your helmet-mask. Can’t get much more paranoid than that.”

Can’t really deny that now huh.

“You still owe me a first name though. Remember the deal?”

Fucking hell Tim was kind of annoying. But a first name couldn’t hurt, he supposed. Not when from what Tim knew, he was still supposed to be 6 feet under. There were enough people with his name for that not to be suspicious, even to the potential current holder of the Robin-mantle/title.

“Jason.”

That, the kid believed, even if it took a few seconds of being stared at like he was trying to see through his skull and analyze his brain for any indication of him lying.

Sadly, without Tim's full name, any further research into him would be virtually impossible. He’d had no ID on him, nothing besides that damned IPod. He’d have to trust the kid to just… tell him.

Not exactly Jason's strong suit, and it didn’t seem to be Tim’s either. Which could be another sign that-

No, he wasn’t just going to assume that. Any kid in his position would be paranoid. Bruce and his family weren’t the only paranoid people in Gotham. Still, he should probably keep the possibility in mind. The risk of any information leaking back to Batman was just too high.

Fucking shit he was gonna have to keep his Domino mask on for another day. As if the glue wasn’t already itchy enough.

But it was for the wellbeing of the kid. That was why he was here after all. To take care of Tim until he wouldn’t try to yeet himself off a skyscraper, or at least until the day was over and their deal would come to an end.

It seemed that the only way the two of them could communicate was in deals, but that was fine by Jason. He had always liked knowing exactly where he stood with others.

“You got any friends I could call?” he tried. Maybe they would be able to actually help. Jason doubted his awkward dancing-around-the-subject without even knowing how to hug a person properly would suffice as comfort for Tim.

“No.” He looked back at Jason, probably registering the confused look on his face. A kid like him? No friends? Well enough off, not too bad looking, since when did the kids of Gotham mind you being a bit weird if you had those first two?

“I mean- Yeah I do have friends, but no one you can call.” Tim looked away again, seemingly getting trapped in his own thoughts again, just like he had earlier right before their little questionnaire started.

“Why?-” Jason wanted to ask, trying to maybe convince Tim that it would in fact be a good idea to call someone, but he was very quickly cut off.

“Nope. You got a question, now I get one too.” Upon seeing Jasons expecting expression, he defensively added, “Give me a minute to think about it alright?”

“Why do you care if I live or die?”

Wow, Tim was really getting out the big questions now. It certainly was a good one.

Why did he?

Jason had asked himself that question ever since he saved the kid, and he wasn’t even sure if he knew the reason.

Maybe it was because when he was Tims age, he would’ve given everything to get another chance to live. Maybe it was because he felt bad just letting a kid kill itself in front of him.

Maybe he had wanted to prove to himself that there was still something good left in him. Some scrap of the 15 year old he had once been.

But what was he supposed to tell Tim? ‘Oh, I died once around your age, and it really wasn’t worth the hype y’know?’

“I remember being 15. And… No 15 year old should feel like this.” he took a deep breath in, trying to think of something more he could say without giving away the full story.

“Are you seriously about to tell me that I should be at the beach building sandcastles or something.”

Jason snorted at that, remembering how he had also been the polar opposite of that. He hadn’t been fighting off bugs and things trying to knock over a sandcastle, he had been jumping from rooftop to rooftop, chasing the insanities Gotham produced in the dark of his night. He had spent his years fighting villains, believing that they were wrong in every aspect, evil.

Now he found himself as a villain, talking to a 15 year old maybe-vigilante who had just helped him in killing 2 men. A 15 year old maybe-vigilante who yearned for death like a rogue who had lost everything.

“No. I just- I don’t really know what exactly I was thinking. But I’ve wanted to die before, and I really can’t figure out why you want to be. What could you have done that makes you think that you don't deserve life?”

Silence spread between them, a heavy blanket that almost made it hard to breathe, awaiting Tims reaction to this new information.

“Why did you want to die then? Did you have a reason? Did you do something that bad?”

“Wait wait, you already got your question. My turn now, remember?” Tim sighed almost dramatically, throwing himself back onto the thin bed sheets.

It took Jason a while to remember the question he had wanted to ask, silence taking its place again in the meantime. But it was a different kind, an awaiting silence, an almost-but-not-quite comfortable one.

“Why can’t I call your friends?”

“They think I’m away with my da-” he paused for a bit, seemingly searching for the right word. “a family friend”

“And I can’t call that ‘family friend’ because…?”

“He thinks I’m away with my friends”

“What kind of family friend even is that? Don’t you have parents who would worry too?”

“They are on a work thing. Will probably be back like, in a month.” Tim took a deep breath, his eyes looking as if he saw something in the blank white of the ceiling “Or in a week or so. Might need to attend my funeral y’know. Doesn’t look too good in the press if they don’t.”

So this kid's parents were rich, or at least famous enough, to matter to the press. Tim was famous enough for the press to potentially attend his funeral.

Tim had thought about who would be there for his funeral.

Tim had doubted that his parents would bother to come.

The more he found out about this kid, the more it hurt to look at him. Not like when he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror because all he found was a monster, but because Tim was just so…

So different to him, and at the same time, he reminded Jason of himself so very much. They grew up on opposite sides of Gotham, had lived such different lives.

But they both had ended up on death's doorstep too soon. Except that Jason had wanted to live, and died. Tim had wanted to die, and lived. Thanks to Jason. Jason, who after getting his life back, had wanted to just be dead again.

The Grim reaper must be laughing at them both from hell.

And with every question, his suspicion that Tim was the boy he had hated for months grew. The replacement Robin, his biggest enemy, Bruce's way to show him that he had never cared at all. That his death had never mattered.

He told his friends and this family friend that he would be ‘away’? Probably played it off as an undercover mission. The friends were probably his colleagues from Young Justice. But the family friend?

Surely, Bruce would’ve adopted Tim. The detail about his parents being away fit too, the Drakes were rarely home. That should’ve been enough of a reason for the child-addicted maniac to make Tim another kid in his line-up of adopted vigilantes.

Maybe another Hero.

Just then did Jason notice that he had been completely zoned out of their conversation, and the kid had clearly been trying to get his attention.

“Hey, you asked two damn questions. Now I get two too, right?” he looked to Jason, waiting for a response. He just nodded, still trapped deep in thought about Tims identity. Maybe, just maybe he was jumping to conclusions.

But the incredible strength the had displayed for his size, the way he wasn’t freaked out by him being a masked lunatic at all-

Well, that last one could also be attributed to Tim just being a Gothamite.

“Why did you want to die?”

Oh fuck. How was he going to answer that without explaining that he had been dead before.

“I- I just I fucked things up with my crush at the time and-”

“Bullshit. The real story. You said something about me not having done anything to warrant wanting to die. So what’d you do?”

He was looking at him again now, his expression almost challenging. Lying wasn’t going to work, Tim had seen right through him every damn time.

Just like Bruce used to do.

Well, maybe he could just… leave some things out? Yeah, that’d be the only way.

“I got… very angry sometimes. Killed some people. Was getting trained to be an assassin. I was sure that my existence was an overall negative for the world.”

“You’re leaving something out”

Add a ‘champ’ at the end of that and it could’ve come straight from Bruce.

Well, he really did owe the kid an answer. That had been the deal he asked for in the first place.

“I died when I was 15.” He tried to continue, but it felt like the words were getting stuck in his throat, choking him slowly. It was getting harder to breathe and for the first time since he had gone to Gotham again, tears started welling up in his eyes. Jason wanted to say more, wanted to explain, but he just couldn’t. Not when his vision was suddenly flooded with Images of the closed casket over his head, dirt falling into his throat. The pain that had torn through him for every second, the pain that had only been amplified a thousand times over by the lazarus pit.

The days he had spent training, pushing himself to his limit and past just to prove to Thalia that he was still worth something.

The night he had spent in her room, not remembering a single thing the next morning.

The horror of not knowing. The horrible feeling of shreds of memories laying around his mind, not enough to ever paint a clear picture of what had happened. Of who he was, or who he was supposed to be.

He felt the kid taking his hand, but it barely registered. Not until the feeling was gone again, and he realized Tim was too. Frantically he looked around, trying to find him, fuck what if he had left to go finish what the had tried to do-

Cold cut through his panic, sharp and clear. Ice cubes on his wrist. Tim right in front of him again, looking at him as if he was trying to analyze every microexpression of his.

“So.” Tim started again, his voice more gentle this time, almost like he was trying to soothe him. “You’ve been dead, and that was why you wanted to die again. But you also wanted to save me from dying.”

He looked at him, almost desperate.

“Why would you make me live when you know how painful it is?” Tim asked with almost tears in his eyes, looking like he was begging now. Begging for a reason he was still breathing, why his heart was still beating.

When Jason didn’t respond and just stared at him, still shocked, processing what he had just been asked, Tim added “This is my second question. You still owe me one.”

Still, Jason couldn’t answer.

Life had been painful since he’d come back. He struggled to remember his life before, piecing together memories from the scraps he had and the old videos, photos and news articles there had been of him.

He had been convinced that he was happy before.

But being confronted with this, with Tim, he realized that maybe, he had always been messed up.

That maybe the seeds for Red Hood had already been planted, even back in his Robin days.

Maybe Tim was right. Maybe life had never really been worth it.

Chapter Text

“Why would you make me live when you know how painful it is?” he asked, his eyes once again filling with tears as thought about the fact that he was, in fact, still here.

A year of planning, a year of waiting. It had all been for nothing. Empty, useless.

A lot like him.

He still wanted to scream, to run away and find the next sharpest thing and crawl into a hidden corner with it until he came up diced up and damaged. But better.

Anything was better than being himself. At least he felt different that way. Fresh cuts and blood haunting his skin made him more aware. If it was from the pain or the fear of someone noticing, reality was amplified by a thousand.

Every scar stood for a shortcoming of his. Sometimes they appeared because of a specific situation, a task he had failed. Sometimes it was simply because of him. Because he was too much and too little, overwhelming and never enough, because he would always be simply awful.

*

Because the boy he saw when he looked in the mirror was nothing like he should be, too small, too timid, and recently 10 pounds too skinny.

How was he supposed to keep up with being Robin if he was constantly on the verge of being underweight?

How was he supposed to eat when he could practically feel the food looking back at him, glaring at him for wasting perfectly fine meals on himself.

*

Tim laid there, waiting for an answer. Surely, there must be one. He couldn’t have been saved simply out of Jason's desire to play hero, or some heat-of-the-moment lapse of judgement. And even if, why would Jason have taken him back to his apartment if that was the case.

There had to be a reason.

Or his survival was just as meaningless as his life had been.

His answer never came, and Tim felt reassured in his theory.

He hadn’t even mattered enough for there to be a reason to this torture that was surviving.

He had simply been on the wrong roof, at the wrong time. He sighed, turning around so that his back was now facing his supposed saviour.

Jason had said earlier that he had died at 15. It wasn’t too crazy. Tim had only ever heard of People who had already been Heroes or Villains coming back, but as often as that happened, he wasn’t too surprised that Jason had come back too despite probably being a normal citizen prior to his revival.

Still, it felt quite Ironic.

He had been saved by a man named Jason who had died at 15, after taking over a role that had previously belonged to a boy named Jason who had died at 15. Maybe that was the Mantel's revenge for being stolen by him.

Normally he wouldn’t believe in coincidences, but him being alive was a coincidence in and of itself right now, so who was he to question the logistics behind that. Many people named Jason had died at 15, and someone certainly would’ve noticed if the great Jason Todds’ grave was empty. On top of that, Jason had been a rather small boy when he had died. Even tinier than Dick when he was Robin, he wasn’t pathetic like Tim, but rather built like an athlete.

He had truly been able to fly in the sky of Gotham at night, disappearing in the shadows even in a suit designed to make him as visible as possible.

He had been magic. A true Robin.

A true son of the Wayne family, too.

All the things he had never been able to achieve had just come to him naturally.

Tim couldn’t help but compare himself, see all his shortcomings in relation to the boy wonder who had come before him. And even then, there was still Dick.

The first Protegee. The boy who had set all standards for what it meant to be a young hero, for what it meant to be Robin. A legend of the Hero community.

The man who hadn’t even been able to look at him when he had first picked up the Identity he had invented.

Sure, he had tried to be nice to him. Taken him out to fast food places after patrol when he was visiting, occasionally texting to check up on him. But Tim had never forgotten the looks he had given him when he thought he wouldn’t notice, the fights he had had with Bruce over him.

How mad he was when he first got to the manor. Sure, he hadn’t said it in front of him. Dragged Bruce to another room, not noticing tiny Tim following them both. How he had screamed at the man, accusing him of replacing Jason like he had never been there in the first place.

He never belonged in Wayne Manor.

He belonged to the loneliness of Drake Manor, where the floors creaked and the halls were haunted with memories of seeing other kids having lunch boxes which their parents packed for them. The shocked look of adoration his friends had when he told them that he practically lived alone most times.

The nights of loneliness he had spent in his bedroom corner, making himself as small as he possibly could as if that meant the space around him would grow smaller too, the halls shrinking into normal living rooms and the endless floors disappearing.

Wayne manor was just as big, but it was less… empty. Life filled the halls, talking voices echoing instead of creaking stairs. Wayne manor was alive, and he was not.

He always imagined what it’d be like to have Jason as his older sibling. Would they have made fun of Bruce together? Would he have taught him what it meant to be Robin instead of the few and far between lessons with Dick and having to figure it out by himself?

Then he remembered that he never would’ve been associated with the Waynes’ if it hadn’t been for Jason's death.

The Jason he was now in the room with still hadn't said anything, and Tim just wished that he would give up now. Why keep trying if he didn’t know why he was even doing it?

“Death made me suicidal” Holy shit finally. Tim turned back on his other side, facing him again.

“Yeah, you already kinda said that”

“Not because living was awful.” Jason quickly added, seemingly trying to grasp the right words for what he was trying to say.

Tim was kind of confused now. Why else would he have wished to be dead again?

“Let me tell you the full story alright? You just… You gotta promise that this stays between us two. In this room. Whatever.”

“Well, I’m kinda still planning to be dead as soon as possible, so that won’t be that big of a problem”

Jason took a deep breath, whether it was because he was exhausted from Tims chronic wanting-to-be-dead bullshit or because he was building up courage to start with his ‘story’ Tim couldn’t tell.

“I died after being tortured and blown up. I’ll spare you the details. But when I came back it wasn’t exactly pretty. I woke up in my own grave, and first of all, I had to dig myself out of there. And well, the scars from before my death never got the chance to heal.” Another deep breath, trying to collect himself.

“Neither did the autopsy scar. I spent a year in a coma after that, but because I was considered dead, no one managed to identify me. Then Thalia Al Ghul came to kidnap me. Might’ve heard of her?” He looked at him, waiting for a sign of whether he should explain Thalias Identity to Tim. He nodded, because of-fucking-course did he know who Thalia was. And that she had an affair with Bruce. He had not intended to find that out but he did and he was still traumatized.

“She took me to the Lazarus Pit and dumped me in. Healed most of what was wrong with me. Got me these-” he made some signs toward his eyes, “too. But it couldn’t exactly, y’know, cure the death out of my body. I was a corpse for like multiple months at least after all. So sometimes it still feels like I forgot I’m supposed to be alive again now. And on top of that I was trained to be an assassin after that. Which, well, the little morals I still had really didn’t like all that.” He chuckled a bit, smiling through the pain telling the story seemed to bring him.

“So, my life before wasn’t so awful. Damn it, I’d probably be happy if I hadn’t died then. And I was so sure that you’d regret it too.”

He looked back at him, tears now falling down his face. “I wanted to give you the chance at life that I never got”

Oh.

Tim didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know what to say, what to feel. But still, he felt the tears slowly dripping down his cheeks.

Jason had wanted his life so badly.

And he hated it like nothing else in the world.

What kind of an asshole did that make him? He kept threatening to kill himself, screamed at him when he saved him, and even now he still couldn’t bring himself to want to live.

If he could give Jason the life he was living he would.

But one thing from the story stood out to him.

Died after being tortured and exploded.

Jason. Died at 15. After being tortured and exploded.

It was all looking eerily familiar now.

But if this was Jason, surely he would’ve figured out Tims Identity too by now.

The morals he had mentioned, making him hate himself for the assassin training…

Batmans moral code?

It’d make sense. Surely it would be kind of messy to go from a strict ‘no killing’ rule to literally being trained to kill people.

But how would he even ask that?

‘Hey, are you the dead kid I replaced?’ would probably be kind of weird. And if by some miracle he hadn’t figured out Tims’ Identity yet he could not risk giving it away under any circumstances.

But what would it mean if Jason was back?

He could take the Robin mantle up again. Take back everything Tim had taken from him. Fill the holes he had left that Tim had so desperately tried to squeeze himself into.

It meant that he could go in peace, knowing that someone would be there to take over any responsibilities he left behind. That Bruce and Dick wouldn’t have to mourn another son but rather gain the one they had truly valued back.

Oh fuck trying to be undercover and all that. He was gonna be dead soon anyway, and now he had to know.

“Todd?”

“Hm?”

“Is your last name Todd? Jason Todd?”

The expression on his saviour’s face was horrified. Tim figured that meant that he was right.

At least he was still an alright detective.

“Timothy Drake?”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. Well, kind of. He still didn’t know he was Robin at least. Still, the fact that he just knew his full name was-

“The third Robin?”

That was his clue to shoot up from his bed, now truly horrified. How did he- How could he have-

They were both now looking at each other, both staring the other down with utter fear.

“You said everything stays in this room?”

“Promise.”

After another moment of absolutely deafening silence, Tim tried to pick the conversation back up.

“You can have it all back. I don’t want it I’ll leave immediately I promi-”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t need shit from you. Now you tell me why the fuck I just had to prevent another Robin from dying?”

“But the Mantle and- I took your spot. As Robin. In the family. I was just a placeholder I promise they all want you back”

Jason didn’t reply to that one at first, but his eyes seemed to get noticeably greener.

“What do you mean you are just a placeholder for me.”

“Well Bruce and Dick- They would love you back. I was just there so that Bruce didn’t go all killer mode, he hasn’t even tried to adopt me or anything I promise!”

Something shifted in Jason's expression. It looked like anger. Probably at Tim, for taking a place that hadn’t been his to take. It was alright. He could take another beating. If Jason wanted to kill him, well, then at least they’d both be happy with the end of this day.

“You’re telling me that asshole took on another kid and then didn’t even take care of you? Nothing?”

Oh.
Well, it didn't look like it was Tim he was so mad at. Which was a relief, seeing as the man in front of him was build like a fucking fridge, but still it really confused the fuck out of him.

“Did you even get proper training before going out as Robin? I mean you are strong enough but you are skinny as a stick kid, and how would he have even trained you if he hadn’t at least taken you in before?”

“Well to be exact my first mission as Robin was without training-”

“What.” He looked truly enraged now, scaring Tim again even though he knew that that anger had very little to do with him this time. “Did the Bastard learn nothing? Loose one Robin and send another untrained one out into the field?”

“Well, I kinda send myself out- or Alfred did at the most”

Jason seemed to be too stunned to speak. But slowly, he regained his composure, returning his attention back to Tim. He wasn’t sure if he should be too happy to have the full attention of the man whose life he had stolen on him.

“I’m sorry.”

…What?

Those were the words he would’ve expected the absolute least. Why would Jason apologize to him, of all people?

“I can’t imagine what they were like after… Y’know. But you deserved better. Really.”

No. No. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be true.

“No it’s me, I was the problem! Not them they are absolutely alright-”

“Tim. You were alone on a random rooftop. No Dick, No Bruce in sight. They should’ve-”

“I lied to them and told them that I’m on an undercover mission, it’s not their mistake.”

Jason sighed. Was he annoying him already? Great job Tim, another Person who hates you.

“And your weight? The scars? Goddamn Timmy it's Bruce's literal Job to notice that. It’s not your fault that he was being too much of a fucking prick to take care of you.”

It wasn’t his fault.

Not his fault.

How could Tim ever accept that?

How could he accept that his heroes had failed him not because he had failed them, but simply just because?

Chapter Text

Jason's world view seemed to get derailed more by each passing second. He had known that Tims parents were little shits who were never at home. But he’d assumed that Bruce would’ve taken Tim under his wing, treated him like he had with Dick and Jason before.

He hadn’t expected this. A Robin who had gone out on the field untrained (he would have to have a word with Alfred about that one), who hadn’t even received the proper attention and care that he should’ve gotten. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to tell Tim, but if Bruce had checked his records once he would’ve noticed that there was no undercover mission for him to have gone on.

Bruce had always been a human lie detector. How come he didn’t see the dozens of lies Tim must’ve told him?

How could he not have noticed that his closest associate, his protege, was planning to end his life?

It didn’t make any sense. Sure, he had hated Bruce when he came back. Convinced that his methods were wrong, still carrying anger over the Jokers very much still beating heart in his own. But he hadn’t thought he would become this.

A neglectful father, way too similar to the one Tim already had at home.

Jason only knew one thing for sure. Someone had to take care of the kid, or he’d just jump off the nearest bridge the moment he had the opportunity to. Maybe he would even then.

If anyone knew how hard it was to undo the damage left on someone, it would be Jason.

But he wasn’t looking to undo anything that had happened to him. Right now he just wanted to hug him. Tell him that he had deserved better. Wipe that confused look he got when someone told him that he wasn’t completely worthless off his face.

He wasn’t sure if he should, though. What if Tim saw it as an attack? An attempt to pretend to care just so he wouldn’t have to face his guilt when he inevitably left Tim alone again?

His mind raced through all possibilities, and in the end, he decided to just go for it. He could clear up whatever awful thoughts the kid was thinking later. Tim needed the damn hug, for fucks sake.

It was very awkward at first. Jason suddenly remembered that the last time he had actually hugged someone might’ve been before he had even died. Still, he held onto tim, trying to make it more comftarble. He deserved this. He deserved someone much better to do it. But here they were.

After a minute, slowly and almost carefully, Tim started hugging Jason back, leaning into his embrace. Jason only let him go when Tim had pulled away first.

At first he got a bit of a shock, looking at the kids face after the hug had ended. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, his eyes were red and a bit puffy. Still sniveling, he wiped away some of his own tears and with a voice so incredibly small, reminding Jason that he was still only a child, he muttered “Thank you”

What the actuall pig-flying fuck was he supposed to do with that.

The kid was even thanking him for basic kindness now? How had Bruce even managed to mess up this bad. He really put his all into fucking up this kid huh?

“Don’t thank me please. That shouldn’t be something you need to thank someone for.”

“But-”

“Nope. Nuh uh. You aren’t thanking anyone for hugs. You deserve them just because, not because someones being extra generous or something.”

Once again, that slightly confused look. What had happened to make this kid confused every time someone told him that he deserved to be treated well? What the actuall fuck was Bruce doing with the kid?

He was thinking about Bruce way more than he usually liked to. While yes, he was here to avenge his death, torture his dad a little in the process and clean up Gotham, he had not planned to come here and find out Bruce had become an even shittier father than just the whole ‘taking his kids to the war that he had made his life mission’.

After a while, Tims expression began to soften again, the dreaded confusion finally disappearing from his face.

“So you’re not mad at me for taking your place?”

“If anything I’m mad at Bruce and Dickface for letting you still feel that way, Idiot”

The last word had not come out nearly as sharp as Jason had intended, sounding more like an affectionate nickname than an Insult.

“You shouldn’t be running around too much for a while by the way. So no crime fighting.”

He sighed as he saw Tims bothereed expression, reminded of him when he had been benched.

Of what had happened after.

“You aren’t benched, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. If you do go out on partol, please take me with you for now?” he shot him a pleading look, hoping that Tim would agree to this. Their third deal.

“I mean, if I ever go on patrol again, why not”

Ah yeah. He still had about… 20 hours. To convince Tim not to die. And with each passing hour, he realized that he could not lose this one. Not when he had already started to care so deeply for the little gremlin.

It was 4am now. Normally he’d be safe asleep by now, but he couldn’t risk leaving Tim alone. So, it seemed like a reasonable time for breakfast at least.

“What does Alfred usually make you for breakfast?” Of course Jason knew what Alfred probably made the kid, and he knew how to cook it by heart. But still, he wanted to ask. What if Tim had an allergy?

Maybe he just wanted to get the conversation back to a topic that didn’t involve the future so that Tim wouldn’t have to think about it either. Jason wasn’t exactly an expert at curing suicidal-ness, so he just hoped that that would help somehow.

“Coffee?”

Coffee.

“Nothing else?”

Tim nodded. Nothing else.

“Alfred doesn’t usually make breakfast for me unless I stay over at the Manor. And well since I usually don’t eat in the mornings I don’t then either y’know?”

The kid still slept at Drake Manor most nights. The Manor that could very well be a haunted house, considering that it had basically been abandoned by it’s owners.

What the fuck was Bruce even thinking? Was he thinking???

Jason pulled out the IV needle Tim still had in his arm. “You’re coming to the kitchen with me. And you are fucking eating breakfest for once.” He would’ve formulated the first part as a question, but he couldn’t risk Tim saying no. Leaving him alone in a room full of medicall equipment that could be used to break as much as it could fix really did not fit his definition of safe right now.

“Well, since there are a few stairs I can’t roll you there on the bed, but just lean on me if you need support alright? I can carry you if it gets bad, just tell me” he knew damn well that he would absolutely never tell him if he needed the extra help. Tim was still a bat after all, and no one could avoid inheriting Bruce's stubbornness. It just came with the job.

He watched as Tim got out of bed, moving way too slowly at first and having to stop and hold his side. The side he had been stabbed in because Jason hadn’t aimed the damn gun right. Great job Jason, you’re just as useful as the Idiots that brought him to you.

“Be careful kid you’re gonna tear your stitches”

“I’m not a kid.” Tim replied, but he still started moving more slowly, holding onto the bed for support. Finally, he was up and standing. Jason knew he wouldn’t ask for help from him, so he just did it. He could complain about not having needed it later.

After what must’ve been at least 20 minutes of Jason half-carrying Tim up the stairs (he had refused to actually be carried even though it would’ve been no problem, the kid looked light as a feather), they had finally reached the kitchen-/living room of Jason's apartment. The couch was in the middle of the room, with the TV opposite on it and the kitchen counter slightly to the side behind the couch.

Jason had never loved his layout as much as he did now. After a few half hearted protests from Tim about needing to help he got him to lay down on the couch while he prepared breakfast. A real breakfast.

“I still need my coffee though”

“You are 15 why the fuck do you need coffee?”

“Well how the fuck else am I supposed to do vigilante shit, work on my own cases and go to school? How’d you do it smartass?”

“You have your own damn cases? Bruce lets you work enough so you don’t sleep? Has he gone fucking insane and forgot that kids need sleep?”

“Not a kid”

“Didn’t ask”

Reluctantly, Jason threw on the coffee machine. He wasn’t that much better than Tim after all.

He placed a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and two slices of toast in front of Tim, together with a mug of coffee, which had ‘world's most acceptable brother’ printed onto it.

“Did Dick get you that?”

“How the fuck would he last he knows I’m still dead”

Silence laid over them as Tim took a few sips of the coffee before carefully taking little bites from his toast while Jason had already cleared half of his plate.

“You should tell him y’know. He still cries about you. I get why you have a problem with Bruce, him reviving the Joker and all, but Dick really misses you”

Jason dropped the fork he had mounted half of his scrambled eggs on.

“Bruce revived the Joker? The Joker was dead?”

Tim got that ‘oh fuck’ look on his face again, seemingly scrambling to find the right words for his explanation.

“Well, when Dick killed him-”

“Dick killed the Joker!?”

He hadn’t expected that. He had thought that Dick returned to how he had been when he first got to the manor. Distant. Ignoring him at all costs. Blaming him for taking his title, his role as Robin from him.

But he had…

Tim was right. He should really give Dickface a call sometime. And find out more about this killing and reviving Joker thing.

And calm down before Tim freaked out completely, seeing as the kid already seemed scared to death by his sudden zoning-out with his eyes suddenly turning neon-green.

“I’m sorry kid I just- that’s the first time I heard of that. But thank you.” The silence between once again felt like a heavy, awkward blanket.

“So, if not Dick, where’d you get the mug from?”

“Remember the whole league of assassins training thing?”

"Yea of course”

“Did you know that Bruce had an affair with fucking Thalia Al Ghul?”

Tims face twisted, seemingly remembering something he really did not want to remember.

“Yep. Know way too much about that” Jason could barely hold himself back from laughing now. The story was so absurd, and Tims implication that he had walked in on the two once was just too funny.

“Well, they actually have a kid. Bruce doesn’t know but I met him there. He’s pretty uptight, which is why ‘acceptable’ is already the biggest possible compliment from him”

“Bruce managed to actually have a biological kid!?”

They were both laughing at the absurdity of the situation now, throwing jokes in when they could get enough breath to talk only to laugh even harder at them.

“He actually looks nothing like Bruce”

They were wheezing now, holding their stomachs and trying to grasp for air.

“The one biological kid he has? His genes got through to you and Dick but not to him?”

“Well they got to you too, look at yourself”

“Does he at least have the black hair and blue eyes?”

Jason laughed even harder before punching out a breathless “NO, his eyes are green”

There was no holding back now. They laughed until they couldn’t anymore, Tim even had to check if any of his stitches had ripped.

When even the kid had finally finished his plate (and requested another cup of coffee, which Jason had not given him), Jason went to throw them in the sink and sit down beside him. It was half past 5 now, and he had a bit less than 19 hours to convince Tim to live.

The clock was ticking, and Jason had no Idea how to use the time that he had been given.

Chapter Text

Tims mind was racing. He had just eaten, and not that small of a portion. He rarely did these days, so the feeling of actually being full felt almost weird, almost wrong. On top of that, he had accepted food from a guy who had every right to want to kill him. But like, he didn’t seem to actually want to? And Bruce had a biological son, so he already had a new potential Robin if Jason didn’t want the role.

But he liked it here. The living room was pretty cozy, and Jason was actually pretty good company.

It was a good way to spend his last day.

Better than the day before where he had frantically gone through every detail of his plan before wandering around Gotham as Robin with the only goal being to avoid Bruce, only to take off the costume and do the same thing as himself.

He was almost happy that he had survived his initial fall. But still, some little voice in the corner of his mind kept telling him that if he had died, he wouldn’t even have to be happy. He would just be nothing, not being able to feel anymore.

And he would always prefer feeling nothing ever again to feeling almost happy.

“So, got a crush on anyone?” Jason asked.

Why would he ask that, though?

It was kind of a strange question considering the situation.

Was he trying to find reasons for Tim to live? Even if it was that, he would fail tremendously with that question.

He had always been awful at romance.

“Yea, why?”

“Figured if you got a girlfriend, boyfriend, whatever they would probably help you better in this than I probably am. Since I now know your family is out of the question y’know”

“Why didn’t you just ask about my friends then?

“You said they were off limits, also, I was just kinda curious alright? Leave me alone”

“If you really don’t wanna deal with this just call Kon. He’s my best friend”

Jason looked confused for a split second before starting to scramble as if he was trying to go back in time.

“Nononononono I do want to deal with this. With you. I just don’t know how to since I barely know you outside of stalking you and I’ve never really comforted someone so I just- I wanna do this right? And I have no Idea how to?”

“You’re actually doing pretty well I’d say.”

Silence laid over them like a heavy blanket, bringing the two closer together rather than apart. A nice, comfortable kind of silence.

“That's… good”

“But now I am really curious. Is there someone?”

Tim sighed dramatically, throwing his head back onto the back of the couch.

“Do I really have to?”

“Of course. C’mon it cannot be that embarrassing. Unless it’s like I dunno, Harley Quinn or something”

“No ew- She’s like 10 years older than me”

“See? It can’t be that bad”

“Kon”

“Who?”

“Superboy? You don’t know him?”

“Well I know fucking Superboy exists but I don’t exactly know him enough to call him Kon considering I have been dead, comatose or crazy for most of the guys existence.”

“Good point”

“Wait so you have a crush on your best friend? You said that earlier”

“Yeah”

Suddenly his voice sounded quieter, smaller, more timid. Like admitting to himself that he had a giant fucking crush on his best friend had crushed his confidence. Hah, get it, because crush? Crushed?

He had really kind of been crushed by this… thing.

Even though his promise to himself had been to not pass up on opportunities, live the life he had to its fullest, he had avoided this for months now.

Because Kon deserved better than a guy who would inevitably kill himself in the near future. He deserved someone with a future.

Someone who wasn’t an absolute failure, as a hero and as a team leader. Kon himself had once said it.

He was just an athletic teenager, big flipping deal. He was only on the team for his Brains. (Young Justice 1998 #37 chat I looked it up)

Not because he was particularly useful. Half of the reason they kept him around was probably just because of Batman anyway. And Kon deserved someone who could actually offer him something. Someone who was on his level. Not the pathetic half-useless Tim who hadn’t even managed to hold the responsibility of being team leader.

Sure, Kon had apologized for that. Probably didn’t mean it or something. BUt still, he deserved more than Tim, that was the point he was trying to make here.

So he had never made a move. Why would he if he was guaranteed to have his heart broken anyway? It would just destroy their friendship too, and Tim wasn’t sure if he could take that.

What he had done instead was to put distance between them. Stayed less in Young Justices headquarters, hadn’t teamed up with him when the team split up, just generally stayed away.

Kon, even though he acted all tough, was really just a big softie. And Tim wouldn’t let him blame himself for his suicide. So what better way than to just have as little contact as possible without being suspicious.

Kon couldn’t blame himself if he hadn’t even been there to cause anything.

And maybe it gave him time to find a new best friend. To move on before the blow landed. To replace Tim before he felt bad about doing so.

Tim had told himself that that had been the goal, that he should wish for it to happen for a month now. In reality, every time he thought about Kon spending his weekends on the couch with someone else than him, telling them his secrets and opening up about whatever was bothering him at the time he could feel his heart cramp up, his fingers started to hurt for no damn reason.

The thought of losing Kon caused him literal, physical pain. But it was better for him. And Tim would always prioritise Kon over himself, in every universe and in every situation.

“So did you ever ask him out or anything?”

“I’m not that self destructive”

“What do you mean with that now?”

“I’d just get rejected anyway and I’d prefer to at least have him as a best friend if I can’t have him as a boyfriend”

“How’d you know if you never even tried?”

“I just do, okay? Leave it”

Now it was Jason's turn to sigh dramatically. God the two of them would’ve been theatre kids in another universe.

At least Jason would be. Tim didn’t consider himself particularly good at anything required for acting. Maybe he would do the tech behind the show.

A fun thought about a universe where everything was okay. A universe that would never exist, not even in the endless multiverses they had access to.

Because in every timeline, in all possibilities, Tim Drake is too far gone to be saved.

And in every Universe, the people who think otherwise will eventually give up on him.

Just like Jason would soon.

“You know what? We said one day until you’re allowed to kill yourself. I’m not letting you waste that day rotting in here.”

“Well it’s kinda hard to walk so-”

“I gotta still have some old wheelchair somewhere around here. Thalia gave me like every possibly medically relevant thing on the planet to stuff into this place, I’m sure we can make it work”

“And the stairs?”

“I’ll carry you. And then the wheelchair. Easy.”

So he wasn’t getting out of this. And he also wouldn’t be alone for some while too. Great, just what he had wished for.

But at least spending the day with Jason wouldn’t be too bad. He really liked the guy if he was honest.

The rule of ‘never meet your hero’ clearly didn’t apply to him, because even though he should definitely hate Tim, he was still taking care of him and being so damn nice to him. It was even more than Bruce had managed to do if he was being quite honest.

“So, what are we doing?”

“I don’t know” Tim replied, afraid to give the wrong answer. Because of course there was a wrong answer. And he would always find a way to say exactly that.

“What do you mean you don’t know!? No things you still got on your bucket list, nothing?”

Great. He had actually given the wrong answer. Wow, what a great detective you are Tim.

“I mean, we could go get my stuff? I hid it in some bush before going to the skyscraper. My phones there too”

“That’s a decent first stop I guess. But we are doing something more fun later. You gotta live a little kid”

“Still not a kid!” he shouted after Jason who had ran away in a hurry to find the earlier mentioned wheelchair.

Briefly, he saw something fly by the window, but it was gone so fast that Tim couldn’t see anything past the fact that it had been kind of - maybe? - colorful. Probably just another Rogue swinging alone buildings.

Although, it was a bit late for that.

Maybe another one of those who were foolish enough to think that they would be better off doing crime in the morning since there were no vigilantes outside during the daytime.

Jason had soon returned and helped him get into the wheelchair, which he of course had heavily protested. He could fucking sit down by himself please and thank you. Moreover, Jason also insisted on carrying him down the stairs to the ground floor of the building, which Tim really did not want to.

But Jason just picked him up and ran down the stairs with him sitting on his back piggyback-style. Which honestly was way too funny to be mad about, especially since they were both dying laughing the entire way down.

Once all three of them, including the wheelchair, were down, the fun could really begin. Well, fun. Rolling through Gotham trying to find the right fucking bush wasn’t something he’d usually define as fun, but with Jason and the absolute absurdity of the situation, it soon turned into the most hilarious thing he had ever done.

Then finally, after what must’ve been at least over an hour, they found it. Stuffed so far between the leaves and branches that Tim couldn’t even reach it from his sitting position was his backpack, stuffed full with things he had only taken to make the undercover mission more believable.

And his phone, as well as the Robin suit. He packed the latter away again as fast as possible, not wanting to risk being seen with it. Even after everything, he still didn’t want to risk disappointing Bruce like that.

His phone, however, was a bit more complicated. He had turned it off before he left, so it probably still had some battery left. But could he risk turning it on and potentially being tracked by oracle? No matter how many safety guards he put on there she could surpass them, even if it took her an hour or so.

He looked to Jason for help, hoping to find an answer in his expression.

“Just turn it on Timbo. If you’re scared of anyone having texted you or something we can look at that together alright?”

It’d be okay. Jason was here and he was helping Tim. For now, at least.

The first thing Tim saw when the screen finally lit up was a flood of notifications. He saw mostly Kons name in there, but Dick too. He wasn’t sure if those were the only two though, because there were just so many.

The phone still had a solid 30%. Not too bad.

“Want some privacy to look at those?”

“No- Can you please stay?” Tim asked before he could even register the words that had left his mouth, praying them to go back in the moment he realized what he had just said. How stupid could he be to just ask something like that? Jason would leave like they all had. That wasn’t something he could prevent by just asking.

But right now, Jason did stay.

After a moment of collecting himself again, Tim managed to ask a second question. Still stupid, but if he hadn’t laughed at him after what had just happened he might as well ask this too.

“Can you look at them with me? I just don’t want to deal with whatever happened alone”

“Sure, wanna find a bench so we can be like, y’know, on one level?”

Only now did Tim notice that Jason had been crouching down to be more face-to-face with him. It must really be a weird point of view to talk to him while he was constantly sitting.

He probably looked even stupider from above.

Jason was still taller while sitting on the damn bench they had found. But, whatever. As much as Tim dreaded opening those messages, he also felt like he couldn’t wait another second to do it.

He opened the messaging app, expecting to see at least five chats light up with the new message symbol but…

He looked at the screen, and in an instant, he wanted to cry again. To scream and hit everything around him, or to disappear completely.

Kons contact was right at the top, 9+ new messages.

Dicks was next, just a glowing white 1. The preview: “Hey, wanna go to that new Batburger location tuesday?”

Then… nothing.

For a moment he had actually believed that they had noticed. Looked through the records well enough to see that his undercover mission was a bad lie.

He thought that maybe, at least one person had suspected something. Recognized his behavioural changes. Hell, the only person who had reached out from the bats had even forgotten that he had told him he’d be on an undercover mission!

Not one.

He had known that he didn’t belong to the family, not really. But this still… hurt. Especially when for just a few minutes, he had been stupid enough to think that he had been wrong about that.

Getting that foolish hope ripped from him felt like having a hand reach into his chest to rip out his heart. And the worst part was that it was his own hand, torturing him, warning him about what it meant to trust, to hope.

His eyes filled with tears, and he couldn’t hold himself back from letting out a muffled crying sound. Hell it was embarrassing to cry in front of Jason, again, but he couldn’t stop himself now.

Jason must think that he was some pathetic weak loser. Well, great, because it seemed that he was just right about that.

“Hey Timbo” Jason tried, but Tim couldn’t react, couldn’t move from this frozen state he seemed to be in. His thoughts started racing so fast that he barely realized that Jason was still sitting beside him, nothing existing beside him and that damned screen.

He clicked onto Dicks message, still fixated on the one-liner. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the fact that his undercover mission had become a lot less believable if he was still able to open messages now but not later.

He really wished that he would’ve just died on that roof.

Suddenly, he felt something touching him. A Hand. On his shoulder. It took him a while to realize that it was Jason who had been talking to him the entire time, probably trying to get Tims attention back on him instead of the damned screen in his hand.

“Hey kid. You back?”

He reached up to his cheeks, realizing that he must’ve been crying his damn eyes out while zoning out.

Jason was about to leave wasn’t he?

Scrambling to find the right words to say, to find a way to make Jason stay, he started panicking even more.

“Oh yeah I’m fine I’m actually great! How are you? Everything alright? Please-”

The last word was more a panicked whisper, and he hoped, almost prayed that Jason hadn’t heard this. It was just another piece of proof that he was nothing short of pathetic, begging someone he hadn’t even known for a full day to stay.

“Timbo what’s going on? Stop panicking I promise I’m here just please tell me how I can help you right now”

He was going to stay? He was going to stay. He had to believe Jason on that. Or could he?

“Tim.” Jason was directly in front of him now, looking into his eyes.

“I’m not leaving if that’s what you're worrying about.” he said, directly before pulling Tim into a hug. It was quite awkward due to the position with the wheelchair, but Jason still held him close while also being careful to not press on any of his injuries or to squeeze him too tight. Almost like he was a fragile porcelain doll.

And while Tim certainly wasn’t one, and usually he’d hate the comparison, it felt nice to be treated like he was worth the caution. Like Jason was actually afraid of breaking him instead of considering it a necessary risk to take.

Slowly, he leaned into Jason, lifting his arms to return the hug. They stayed that way for quite some time, and Tim felt the way his breathing slowed down again, his thoughts although still awful stopped racing so fast that they left burn marks on his brain.

After separating again, Jason sat down on the bench again.

“So, Dickface forgot that you lied about that undercover mission.”

“Yea”

“But Kon texted you plenty”

“Oh. Yeah”

He had almost completely forgotten about that. Whatever, it was probably just him spamming because he was hanging out with Bart. They did that sometimes, and usually it was really funny, but he didn’t know if he could take looking at them all happy at the moment.

“Bruce didn’t notice I badly faked the undercover mission. Or Oracle. And I just-”

“You don’t need to justify why you broke down. It’s your right to be upset.”

It felt strange to listen to Jason tell him all these things when he knew that it would all mean nothing soon. Whatever friendship they had now wouldn’t last, and in the end, Jason would hate him for following the things he was saying now.

“I don’t know if I can read Kons- What if he’s just having fun with someone else? I don’t think I want to-”

“I can check them for you if you want to?”

“Hm?”

“I can look at the messages and tell you what it’s about. Maybe there is actually something in there you should see too, y'know?”

“Okay, just please don’t like look at the chat or-”

“Don’t worry, I won’t interrupt your privacy” he replied, winking at Tim as if to imply that there was something going on between him and Kon.

And oh God was it hilarious.

Tim couldn’t have imagined that he’d go from crying to laughing so fast so often before. Not when he had spent half his life in complete apathy, only to be flooded by so many emotions at once now.

It felt amazing and awful at the same time, but right now, the amazing part was outweighing the awfulness by a bit.

One step at a time, then some tippytoe-ing backwards and another normal step forward. That’s what it felt like, and even if he didn’t really want to go forward, he was happy with the direction the day was going in.

Jason had promised him that if he still wanted to die by the end of the day, he wouldn’t interfere. He always had that promise even if something went wrong.

So why not just go along with it?

He couldn’t imagine himself wanting to live just because of one day, but he could live for one day. At least to make Jason happy.

He hadn’t thought about the possibility of wanting to live after all of this before. And now that he did, Tim realized that it would be quite hard. He’d either have to keep faking the mission or go back and admit that it was a lie.

What would he tell Bruce? He couldn’t just say ‘hey, I tried to kill myself but your other dead son changed my mind so I’m back!’ now could he?

It’d be hard. Harder than just dying at the end of this.

But still, he couldn’t quite give up on the possibility yet. Not when Jason had seemingly made it his only mission to convince him to live.

“You should really look at them” Jason said as he gave him back his phone, pulling Tim out of his thoughts once again.

And he was right.

~~~
Kon: Heyyy so I just heard from Clark that he and Batman had a shift together at the watchtower today

Kon: Weren’t you on an undercover mission with him?

Kon: So I was in Gotham briefly today and I didn’t wanna look for you because privacy and all that but I saw Batman so you definitely aren’t on an undercover mission

Kon: Whatever it is though I won’t blow your cover I promise <3

Kon: Tim I’m starting to get really worried you aren’t even getting my messages anymore

* missed call *

Kon: please reply when u can

Kon: timmy? It’s been a whole day dude what the hell are you doing

* 2 missed calls *
~~~

Kon had… been worried?

Cared enough to notice that something was off?

Tim was tearing up again, but it was different this time.

He had tried his hardest to abandon Kon, to make him stop caring. He had pushed this beautiful, amazing human away and left him to worry about what was going on for this entire time.

Hell, he had probably been worrying the entire time Tim had been avoiding him.

He didn’t deserve Kon. He was horrible. And yet it felt so good to see that even after all of his shitty behaviour, he was still trying to be there for him.

Only Seconds after he had started to tear up Jason was in front of him again, scrambling to find what went wrong.

“Fuck did he say something bad that I didn’t see? Are you okay? I’ll beat that fucker up I promise you-”

“No it’s not that” he protested, willing his voice to sound normal, but it still came out as a half-sobbed whisper.

“Then what is it? Please I want to help you”

“He cares”

Something changed in Jason's expression, shifting from panic, anger at Kon and worry about Tim to something softer. The anger didn’t disappear, but the panic was replaced by a weird kind of sadness that Tim couldn’t understand.

“Tim, of course he cares. You’re his best friend, that’s the absolute least he could do”

“I love him and he’s just so much you know? I love him too much? Is that possible?” he took a deep breath before saying the next part, “I just want to protect him from me”

That was the final push he needed to actually start crying again. He hated being vulnerable. It was hard and it was shitty and just ended badly. But Jason made it feel so natural, as if it was really okay to trust him with his darkest thoughts and secrets.

“You don’t need to protect him from you, he’s superboy he can and has to make that choice for himself. And he clearly decided that he wants you in his life. Don’t take that from him just because you think that you don’t deserve him or some shit”

Even Tim couldn’t argue with that logic. Though doubts still flowed through his head, he slowly but surely started smiling a little at the messages.

Jason was right. The only thing that really mattered about this was that Kon cared. Not that Bruce or Dick or whoever had forgotten.

If they had forgotten about him, he could return the favour.

And he would definitely do the same for Kon too.

Chapter Text

“Kon. He’s my best friend”

Kon froze in an instant to listen to what was going on. That had been Tim. Tim, who first faked being on an undercover mission and then hadn’t replied to any of his texts or calls for way too long. Like, so long that it had actually really started to worry him.

Tim, whose heartbeat he had listened to constantly since he had stopped responding, scared that it would go away completely if he stopped listening for even a second.

Tim who had avoided him for like two months now, cancelling almost every single one of their hangouts, staying away from him when they were out with Young Justice, everything. He had been pretty sure that Tim was trying to subtly tell him that he didn’t want to be friends anymore.

He figured that maybe, being the best detective Kon knew, Tim had figured out that Kon had feelings for him and therefore wanted to distance himself.

Kon had just accepted that for what it was. A mistake on his part. A mistake that led to him losing the best friend he’d ever had, or that he’d ever have. Sure, it hurt like hell seeing Tim pull away from him like that, but he wasn’t going to stop him. It was his choice, even if Kon wished on everything that he could change that.

Still, he couldn’t help but imagine Tim hanging out with their other friends instead, or maybe people from his school. People who he didn’t even trust enough to tell about his secret identity, who he now prioritised over Kon.

But he had just said that he was his best friend. To who? Was there maybe some context that could explain this? Unfortunately, he couldn’t go back to hear what was said before, but he decided to keep listening. It wasn’t something he’d usually do. He had promised himself to not listen in on conversations anymore a while back, firstly because it was just shitty because of privacy but also because knowing what was going on could hurt.

Having the ability to hear almost everything at any time had taught him that you should never know everything someone says when they aren’t with you.

But still. He had been worried about Tim for months now, even before he had started pulling away. Something was off, and he needed to know what was going on, no matter how much it might hurt.

“Nononononono I do want to deal with this. With you. I just don’t know how to since I barely know you outside of stalking you and I’ve never really comforted someone so I just- I wanna do this right? And I have no Idea how to?”

Well, he clearly didn’t have the context for this. But that was just kind of concerning. Whoever Tim was talking to had stalked him before, but now he had to comfort him?

What the actual hell had Rob gotten himself into? And why did he need to be comforted? Has something happened that he hadn’t been told about?

Was Tim keeping secrets now too?

They were supposed to be over that after he had finally revealed his Identity.

But clearly, a lot of things had gone wrong between them if he was now seeking comfort from an ex-stalker instead of coming to Kon’s like he used to. When he had creepily stood in front of the window until he was let in, not telling Kon anything about why he was here until they were both cuddled up in his bed with some movie running in the background so that Tim could say that he had just wanted a movie night.

Secretly, he’d loved those nights. Sure it was always awful to hear that Tim was going through a rough time, but at least he got to comfort him instead of seeing him stuff it all up until he’d inevitably explode. He had earned his trust enough so that Rob actually opened up to him, and Kon had always seen that as an honor. An achievement, almost.

And maybe, being cuddled up in bed with his crush was also a nice side bonus.

Yet now from what he could hear, Tim instead went to a random stranger to talk to after not having done that with Kon for almost two months.

It was just… unfair. What had this person ever done for Tim?

What was the difference between the two of them that drove Rob to him instead of Kon?

“But now I am really curious. Is there someone?”
“Do I really have to?”
“Of course. C’mon it cannot be that embarrassing. Unless it’s like I dunno, Harley Quinn or something”
“No ew- She’s like 10 years older than me”
“See? It can’t be that bad”

Sounded like they were maybe talking about Tim having a crush. Well, he wasn’t completely sure. At least the ‘Is there someone’ would make a lot of sense that way.

“Kon”

So, they definitely weren’t talking about crushes.

An Arch nemesis, maybe? That would make sense with the whole Harley Quinn-mention. But why would the age gap matter in that case? After all, if he had heard correctly Dick had had beef with grown-ass men at the ripe age of 13.

“Who?”
“Superboy? You don’t know him?”

Great. Whoever this fucker was didn’t even know who he was. Tim had never once mentioned him before, not even that.

Sounded like he had really no part in Tim's life anymore. Despite apparently still holding the title of his best friend, how much could he really matter if a person Tim trusted enough to talk about his feelings with didn’t even really know his name.

“Well I know fucking Superboy exists but I don’t exactly know him enough to call him Kon considering I have been dead, comatose or crazy for most of the guys existence.”

Okay, that was uhm.

Something?

Where the actual flying fuck did Tim find this guy?

“Wait so you have a crush on your best friend? You said that earlier”

For a moment, Kon felt like his brain had just… stopped thinking. He must’ve just heard wrong. Yeah, that had to be it.

Tim? A crush on him?

Whoever believes it can become Jesus 2.0 because that was such bullshit not even his naive ass could fall for it. Maybe the other guy had been joking or something.

“Yeah”

That sounded so… serious. Like he actually meant it.

What if he did actually mean it?

They continued arguing about Tim not asking him out, and it started sounding less and less like a joke. But it had to be. Kons thoughts were starting to race with all the possibilities but none of them truly made sense.

There was only one thing he for sure knew. He wanted to talk to Tim right now. And if he was still calling him his best friend and he potentially maybe had a crush on him, there was still a chance to get their friendship back.

Kon clung onto that hope like a lifeline almost, hoping for the conversation he was still listening in on to confirm his hopes.

“I’d just get rejected anyway and I’d prefer to at least have him as a best friend if I can’t have him as a boyfriend”

That sounded so defensive and so vulnerable at the same time, and suddenly, Kon wanted to cry. He had known about Tims absolutely shitty self esteem, but he’d not heard Tim say it out loud like, ever. Whatever was going on, something must be really wrong for him to start talking like this.

He wished that he could just swoop in and tell him that he would never even think of rejecting him.

“You know what? We said one day until you’re allowed to kill yourself. I’m not letting you waste that day rotting in here.”

…Tim wanted to kill himself. Everything after that just felt like static noise, growing louder and louder until Kon felt like he would explode.

His best friend didn’t want to live. And suddenly, everything that had happened started to make sense. Avoiding him, not talking about how he felt at all even when asked…

Kon had just thought that he hated him. Hadn’t even tried to push back, to find out what was going on because he had thought that he already knew. He had done absolutely nothing, while Tim continued to isolate himself.

Now it made sense why he hadn’t been hanging out with other members of Young Justice or from the hero community.

He probably hadn’t been with anyone at all.

Tim had just isolated himself for fucking months and he hadn’t even noticed, too caught up in his own fucking self pity and thinking that Tim hated him. How could he have been so blind to the signs?

It was so obvious now.

Tim had been suicidal, and Kon had refused to notice.

He must’ve felt so alone.

Surely Tim had known that he was a walking sign for suicide. And still no one had noticed. Surely, if his family had he’d be on some kind of watch, at least. But he had just gotten away with a half-assed excuse, disappearing for a whole day.

Kon was worried sick, but it was already too late for that. He should’ve been worried weeks, months ago, when Tim had actually needed him.

Whoever he was talking to now was clearly a much better friend than Kon had been recently.

He had to do something. Even if he couldn’t talk to Tim right now, he needed to at least see that he was still alive.

What if that change in heartbeat the evening before had been because something had happened? Tims heart had been racing for way too long before suddenly going so slow Kon was about to try to track him down and fly over. But before he could do that, it started racing again and slowly, but surely, calming down.
But now, flying over to Gotham seemed like the best option. With his superspeed it would only take a few minutes to get over and search for Tim.

The whole time he was mentally beating himself up for what had happened between the two of them over the last months, trying to find something he had done wrong to set this off.

Until he remembered what had happened on Apokolips.

He had called Tim useless. Told him that he was nothing special, just an above-average smart teenager.

It had been months ago, and he had apologized a million times over. He hadn’t even meant it back then, rage having taken over him and Tim had just stood there as the nearest and easiest victim of his awful outburst.

Tim had forgiven him a million times. But what if that was still the reason? What he had said could never be undone again, no matter how many times he wished to go back in time and punch his past self in the face before he could ever say any of it.

That must be it. He was responsible. He was the reason, he had to be. Sure, Tim had gone through a lot with his parents and with Bruce, but that had always been a constant. Nothing new, nothing that would make him change this quickly.

But Tim had started being suicidal now, only a few months after their fight. It could’ve been the thing to tip the scale, the deciding factor in Tims misery.

Even more of a reason for Kon to stay away from him for now. Tim shouldn’t have to see him. Not when he had been nothing but awful to him this entire time.

Finally, he had found where Tim was. It was a pretty small apartment complex, with Tim sitting on the couch in the living room.

That was blood. Blood on Tims shirt. Enough blood to make whoever was losing it pass out.

He needed to find out what happened. Maybe if he just kept listening it’d make sense.

It was just to make sure that Tim was okay and safe.

After searching around a bit to find an at least okay hiding spot that was still kind of near the two of them. Not near enough that he could hear what was going on without his super hearing, but in case anything happened he could be there in under a few seconds.

He wouldn’t know what could even happen, but still he couldn’t bring himself to leave again. Not after what he had just heard. Not when Tims survival depended on a complete stranger trying to make him want to live.

A while had passed and not much had happened, but he still couldn’t bring himself to move even an inch from where he currently was. And it felt like he was proven right in doing so when suddenly he heard Tims heart speeding up slightly, accentuated with very quiet crying sounds.

It frustrated him to no end to not know what was happening, and what they were saying didn’t help much either. Figuring out what was going on was virtually impossible without seeing what was going on, and he couldn’t risk that. After all, Tim was probably the best detective in the world. He’d notice if there was someone directly watching him, no matter how many damn superpowers were involved.

At least he was pretty sure that the blood had been Tims blood, but he was all stitched up. That would explain why they had mentioned a wheelchair for him. To not tear stitches while walking.

“I don’t know if I can read Kons- What if he’s just having fun with someone else? I don’t think I want to-”
“I can check them for you if you want to?”
“I can look at the messages and tell you what it’s about. Maybe there is actually something in there you should see too, y'know?”

Messages. The messages he had sent. The missed calls.

Tim was scared to look at them? Because he might be having fun with someone else? How did that make-

He was jealous. Tim was scared that Kon was with someone else because he was jealous and didn’t want to deal with the fact that it wasn’t him with Kon in that hypothetical hangout he had supposedly had.

That made sense, when he ignored the fact that Tim should absolutely hate him right now. After everything he had fucked up, driving him to the point of…

He couldn’t bring himself to think about that again. Not muster up the damn courage to think of the words in that order. It was ridiculous. But it hurt.

How could the person he adored more than anyone else, who he had spent countless nights watching movies or playing games with, who he had saved time and time again and who had saved him uncountable times too want to stop living. He couldn’t even imagine a world without Tim. Thinking about it felt like the whole Universe collapsing around him, because what would he even do if he didn’t have this boy in his life?

But he’d almost lost him already if it wasn’t for this stranger.

He would probably be thankful if he wasn’t also so damn jealous of him. It was his fault that it was someone else by Tims side now, but he still hated having to keep his distance while this stranger got to talk to Tim. Help him. Take care of him.

“You should really look at them”

Did that mean that Tim should look at his texts? Probably. He didn’t know why that would be good for him right now. Maybe the stranger was just really stupid.

It sounded like nothing had happened for a while, before the other person started rambling in a panicked tone, “Fuck did he say something bad that I didn’t see? Are you okay? I’ll beat that fucker up I promise you-”

Kon was all for that. He deserved it. Someone put him under a red-sun lamp and he’d let the guy have his fun.

Maybe it’d ease the pain of knowing just how much he had hurt him to know that Tim had at least gotten his fair revenge.

“No it’s not that”
“Then what is it? Please I want to help you”
“He cares”

That was what Tim was upset about? Sure he’d been awful at showing it recently, but he had always cared. Sometimes more than he should have.

“I love him and he’s just so much you know? I love him too much? Is that possible?”

Tim’s voice cracked and Kon could hear that he was crying now. Crying because of him. What had happened that made Tim believe that his love was too much? That he was too much?

He had always been perfect in Kons eyes, and oh, how he wished he could swoop him up in his arms and tell him that a thousand times over until he finally believed him.

The fact that Tim had just said he loved him made his heart jump, but still he was more concerned than anything. Tims well-being was the most important thing, not what his feelings towards Kon looked like.

Still, he hoped that maybe, they could still save whatever was between them once this was over.

“I just want to protect him from me”

Kon could almost feel something break inside of him. How could Tim ever think that he was bad for Kon?

Was that why he had avoided him so much and not because of the things he had called him?

It’d make more sense. Maybe. Considering that Apokolips had happened four months before Tim had started isolating himself.

Still, he couldn’t not blame himself for this.

Tim was his best friend, the boy who he loved more than anything.

And he believed that he was dangerous to Kon, that he had to stay distant to protect him.

Oh, Tim.

If only he knew how much the distance had hurt. Like having one of his organs ripped out of him, every other thing he had done only badly supplementing what he had lost.

Chapter Text

Tim knew what he should do. But it was still so fucking scary.

Kon deserved to know that he was safe. He deserved an explanation for how Tim had treated him for the last few months.

Yet how could he hear Kons voice and just… say that. How could he tell him that, knowing that his sweet, caring best friend would always find a way to blame himself, no matter how untrue that was.

How could he stand there and say that he didn’t want to live when all Kon had ever done was give him reason after reason to stay. How could he say that he had distanced himself because he knew that Kon would always make him want to stay, and he couldn’t even want to want that.

“Please, if you want to, call him. I can go somewhere else if you need some privacy”

Tim instinctively held onto Jason's wrist, a slight panic returning to his eyes. Still, it had calmed down a lot since the first time this had happened. Tim felt calmer, less like Jason was trying to find reasons to leave so that he could run away and never have to put up with him again.

“Stay. Please” he asked, still careful and a bit scared but with a lot more confidence this time.

Like he had the right to ask Jason to do just that.

To stay, unlike everyone else had done before.

Finally, he decided to hit the call button without even having thought much about it. Almost like he knew that if he spent even another minute considering it, he maybe wouldn’t have the strength to do it anymore.

“Oh holy fuck Tim are you okay? What’s going on? I-”

“I’m okay”

“I’m sorry it’s just you were gone for so long and-”

“Can we meet up? Like, to talk?” He took a deep breath, thinking that that was a just-about-fine invitation.

Jason did not seem to think so. But, seeing as Kon would most definitely hear whatever he wanted to say, he decided to try and sign it to Tim instead. An awful array of bad hand signs later, he still did not have a single clue about what this guy was trying to tell him.

“Uh yeah of course! What do you want to talk about though?” Kon sounded different. Anxious almost. But that couldn’t quite be. When had Kon ever been anxious about meeting up with Tim?

Oh, right. He had said that they needed to talk randomly after almost no contact for two months. That was probably what Jason had been trying to say, too.

“It’s nothing about you, don’t worry please. Text me when you have time okay? I’m free anytime. Or I’ll just make time for you. Promise”

Hell, if Kon only had time tomorrow or the week after he would wait. He wasn’t sure how long exactly he could do that, but how could he leave this world without clearing up the messes he had made?

How could he die in peace knowing he was leaving the person he loved with a lifetime of confusion and uncertainty?

“I actually have time in like half an hour? If that’s fine with you?”

Tim’s heart made a little jump at that. He would see Kon again, in not even an hour? There was nothing he could want more.

“Yeah sure! Same café as always?”

“Of course, see you then!” he could almost hear Kon smile at the end of the sentence and he could practically feel himself melting at the thought of him being the reason for Kon wearing that cute, irresistible, so-dangerous-it-should-be-illegal smile on his face.

But after hanging up, a few facts crashed in on him. Like him still being in the same clothes he had worn the day before, meaning that he was practically dressed in his own blood stains. Or the fact that he was in a Wheelchair, and he would certainly not be able to walk much on his own soon enough to abandon it for his meetup with Kon.

He tried to remember if the café was accessible for wheelchairs but he could not for the love of anything holy to him remember how wide the entrance was, or if there were stairs in front of it.

Well, at least that part Kon could kind-of fix when he got there. What he really needed to change as fast as possible were the clothes.

“Uhm, Jason?”

"Yeah, Timbo?"

“I can’t wear this”

“Oh. Oh yeah you definitely can’t. Fuck I was planning to borrow you some clothes in the morning but I completely forgot- Wait when are you two meeting now exactly?”

“At 9.30 in the cat café that’s like a bit off from the main shopping street. You know, the area with the comic shops and a bit weird thrift stores?”

“It’ll take at least 15 minutes to get there if we speed- Wait, do you think you can get there alone with the Wheelchair? I can meet you there with some new clothes”

And for the first time, letting go of Jason actually felt somewhat safe. Because Tim knew that he wouldn’t just leave him to deal with this alone. He would be there.

While he still had his doubts, he trusted Jason. Trusted him enough to let him leave.

“Yeah. See you in 15?”

“Wait, before I leave” he bent down a bit so that he was at Tims height, extending a hand with an outstretched pinky finger to him.

“Pinky promise you’ll be there alive and not hurt any more than you are right now?”

“I promise”

“That also means not tearing your stitches. If it takes you 35 minutes to get there that’s still better than arriving early but bleeding”

“You’re worse than my mom. Hell, you’re worse than Bruce.”

“That’s my goal”

Tim sighed, but it was more a lighthearted about-to-laugh sigh. He hadn’t even known Jason for a day and the guy already acted like he had adopted him.

Which, to be honest, Tim wouldn’t actually mind.

He pulled up Google Maps on his phone, rolling down the streets of Gotham as fast as he could without worsening his injuries. Jason had been right after all, it probably wouldn’t exactly be a great look to turn up to his and Kon’s first real meetup in months with blood dripping down his side.

Finally, he arrived at the café and was very relieved to see that there was nothing blocking his way in. Checking his phone he saw that Jason had texted him to meet up in the bathroom. Tim would be surprised if he had managed to make it back home and then here that fast, but he still went there to wait on him.

They still had 10 minutes until Kon would be there. Hopefully he wasn’t too early.

Tim started growing more and more nervous. What if it took him forever to change? He really didn’t want to make Kon wait on him. Not after all the shit he had put him through in the last few months.

Finally, only shortly after Tim had arrived, Jason burst in, a pile of clothes in his hands, which Tim immediately took from him and unfolded.

A black graphic T-shirt and black, washed out rather baggy jeans.

Exactly what he had worn had he gone home and gotten ready for this.

But there wasn’t much time to comment on that, or the fact that there was no world in which either of the pieces fit Jason while also being Tims exact size, because there were little more than 5 minutes left. and god dammit the fractured ribs were a pain while trying to put on the T-shirt.

Jason assisted him when needed, and soon Tim was changed, no bloodstains left on him.

He almost felt like himself again when he looked in the mirror, although there wasn’t much to see considering that he was still in the wheelchair.

The wheelchair. Only now did it really hit him that Kon would see him in the wheelchair. He was here to tell Kon that he was fine and not to worry, and he was turning up sitting in a damn wheelchair.

But it was too late to pull back now, he was probably already sitting outside waiting on him. And even though Tim really wanted to do everything to avoid the conversation that was about to come, Kon deserved it. He deserved to know.

Hell, he deserved the world and so much more, but all Tim could give him at the moment was a proper excuse for his shitty behaviour.

Jason left the bathroom first, trying his best to blend while doing so. He would leave the café as soon as possible, still staying near to make sure that he’d be there in case something happened.

Tim really hoped that he wouldn’t need him. Not when it was about Kon.

Finally, after another minute of waiting and bracing himself, he rolled out of the bathroom and back to the main area of the café. One of the cats briefly stopped right in front of him, and since he couldn’t exactly make his way around her with the wheelchair, he decided to just pet her until she left.

It was the same black cat that usually laid somewhat near his seat. Over the time he had been coming here it was like she actually started to like him in particular, and admittedly was really happy about it. It was nice to be liked, and it was even nicer to know exactly why.

Because he normally always had a few cat treats with him, and he wouldn’t stop petting her the entire time that she would let him.

But instead of going to the side and letting him roll on, she decided to jump onto his lap, curling up into an adorable ball of black furr. And he really wanted to stay there for another second and pet her, maybe in some part due to him still being pretty terrified of facing Kon like this, he had to start moving now. He was standing very in-the-way, and it wasn’t a big enough café for people to just not go through the part he was blocking.

So, he rolled along, surprised that the black cat stayed with him even though he had started moving. Usually she was rather jumpy, leaving at the slightest inconvenience just to return to him five minutes later.

Well, to him and Kon.

He had only ever really been here with him. It was kind of their little spot, the place they met up at when they just wanted to yap to one another outside of each other's rooms.

It was then that hespotted Kon, sitting at their usual table not far from where he currently was. He hadn’t noticed Tim yet, nervously looking down on the table. He hadn’t bothered to open the menu, both of them knew it by heart at this point. Not that they ever really changed up their orders much, but still.

Tim wanted to turn around, but at the same time it felt infinitely good to see Kon again, like his brain automatically felt a bit less awful the moment that he saw him.

“Hey” he said, trying to get Kons attention. The super had still stared at the desk even when Tim got closer, not even noticing him until he was spoken to.

“Oh- yeah, Hey” he replied, a whole mix of emotions mixing in his expression. But he seemed really happy to see Tim still, even though there were a thousand other things going on as well.

At least Tim hoped that he was, because damn it he was really happy to see him too.

“I know you wanted to come here to talk and all but I gotta tell you something first. I’m sorry”

Why was he apologizing already? That was so unlike Kon, who had never once apologized unless he had actually done something wrong, or at least when he thought he did.

What could Kon have done?

Was he apologizing because their friendship would be over after this meetup? Had he already decided that? Tim wouldn’t blame him, he had every reason and right to do just that. But still he was so scared of what would now follow, hoping that in some unlikely way, it wouldn’t mean the end to this before he could even try to repair it.

“I heard a bit of your conversation earlier. You mentioned my name and I was really worried about you so I just- I had to”

Chapter Text

“I’m so sorry I know I shouldn’t have, but you at least deserve to know about it”

Kon had been listening. Listening to… well, what had he heard exactly? About his crush? Had he said his name in combination with those words? He had probably started listening at some point when he mentioned his name, he knew that at one point Kon had trained himself to listen in for that in case he or any of their teammates were in immediate danger.

Had he heard something about Tim trying to kill himself?

What did he know?

Tim wanted to run away, to roll right back to Jason and put this off for another day, or preferably, never do it at all. But he was already here, with no way to escape it.

Silently, he reached down to his upper thigh, just beside where the cat was still curled up. There they were from the last time he had hurt himself. Carefully he started putting pressure on that spot, waiting for the pain to shoot through him in that familiar, almost comforting way.

And it did, but it didn’t feel like enough. Not when his mind was racing through every little word he had said today, trying to figure out how to still get out of the situation he had asked to be put in.

“I can tell you what I know, if that helps?” Kon offered with those adorable blue eyes, almost begging Tim to say something. To react instead of staring at him as if he was suddenly unable to move.

“Yes. Please.”

“So, uhm. First of all?” he said, asking rather than stating it before walking across the table and leaning down to look Tim directly into the eyes.

“I like you too. Or rather, I love you. I really, really, do”

Tim had expected everything. He’d been prepared to be thrown in the trash, screamed at, asked to just be friends, be kicked off young justice, anything.

But not this.

He didn’t have a plan for this. He hadn’t planned for anything that had happened the whole day, and it was scaring him to no end. He was supposed to be in control, to know what was going on.

Was Kon kidding? Filming a prank maybe? What was his reason behind this?

“Are you sure?” was the thing he managed to get out, and the moment it left his mouth he already wanted to eat it back up. What kind of reaction was that even? Seriously, brain?

But Kon was still looking at him with that endless love in his eyes, not a hint of humour in his expression.

“Yeah, very.”

Tim wanted to kiss him. Really, he did. But he also felt like he was almost scamming Kon, tricking him into something with him when he didn’t know just how fucked up Tim truly was.

Or did he?

He’d said first of all before doing this, so there was something else that he knew about too.

Did he know just how messed up he was and decided to do this anyway?

But he couldn’t assume that, and depending on how this went, this might still be the last time that Kon looked at Tim without that familiar aversion and disgust in his eyes.

And it was so much easier to never know anything about heaven than to bask in its glory for just a minute before being thrown back in hell, where he truly belonged. He couldn’t afford to do this with Kon right now, not when it might not last longer than it took him to say the magical words that would change him into a monster in Kons eyes.

So he said them as fast as he could so that he would stop drowning in the bottomless sea of happiness that was behind Kon’s eyes.

“I’m suicidal" he managed to bring out before tears started filling his eyes, panic coursing through him like an unstoppable storm. This would be the end of whatever was going on between them, he was sure of it. And yet, even though there was barely anything even there yet, he was so scared of destroying it. He didn’t want to crush the hope and love in Kons eyes, he wanted to encourage it, to tell him that he loved him too.

But people like him don’t just get to do that. Because Kon deserved to know just how fucked up he was, and Kon deserved to go move on to love someone who wasn’t as damaged. Someone who wouldn’t avoid him for 2 months just to completely disappear on him at the end of it.

“I know” no reaction. The only change in Kons expression was that it had, if that was even possible, gotten even softer.

How could Kon think this was okay? How could he look at him, stand there that he loved him when he knew what Tim was?

“I tried to end it last night” he tried again, searching for some severe reaction. Maybe that was what was needed to push Kon over the edge. Maybe he’d move away now, scream at him and leave.

But the reaction Tim was waiting for never came. Instead Kon slowly raised his hand up to Tims cheek as if he was waiting for him to pull back at any second. But even though Tim was sure that he didn’t deserve any of this, that it would be ripped from him as suddenly as it had been given, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. Not when Kon looked at him almost as if he was a puppy who had been left alone for too long, happy to finally have his companion back.

“Tim?”

“Yes?”

“I know I said I heard some things, but I still need you to respond to-” he gestured between the two of them, “this. Please?” The last word was spoken in a timid, almost begging way, so opposite to anything you would expect from a boy who was built like he went to the gym twice a day and also had that punk-turned-farmer look to him.

But Kon had always been like that. Looking and acting so harsh, but beyond the very surface was a boy who felt more deeply than anyone else Tim had ever known.

Tim wanted to say it. Wanted to say how much he loved Kon, kiss him and finally be happy for once, even if just for a short moment. But he could feel his hands shaking, and he knew that if he even attempted to talk he would bring out nothing but some stuttering and a few tears.

He didn’t want that for Kon. He wanted to be perfect, to say it with unwavering confidence just like he had done. He wanted Kon to be told just how loved he was without having to watch him break down word by word. Because how dare he confess his love, how could he do that to Kon?

Still, he had to do something. If he couldn’t talk, he needed to at least show Kon. He wanted to. He really, truly did, no doubt left in his mind.

Slowly, he moved forward, waiting for Kon to pull away at any second. He stoped right before their lips met, looking up at the boy he loved more than anything. Silently, he waited for him to say something, to move away, to give any signal that he didn’t want this. But all he found was Kon looking back at him, his expression almost challenging him to finally do it.

And what could he say, Tim had never been one to back down from a challenge.

Finally, he closed the little space that had remained between them. The kiss was heavenly, more than Tim could’ve ever imagined and more than he’d ever deserve. He tried his best to somehow convert his feelings into it, to show Kon just how much he meant to him without having to say it out loud.

Because if he ever would get the chance to, he would do it right. Not out in the public in a café, and not in a whirlwind of emotions that made it hard to talk at all.

Right now he really wished that one day, he would get that chance.

The chance to kiss Kon after saying he loved him and not instead of it. The chance to gather enough self confidence to feel like he even deserved to say those words in Kons presence.

Because Kon was all he could’ve ever wished for and so much more. The kiss was rather short, but it still lit up every nerve in his body in the best possible way, his various injuries completely forgotten about as all he could feel were Kons ridiculously soft lips on his own. Even after they separated again it was the only thing he could think about, wanting to chase after the feeling with every breath he took.

Kon’s hand was still cupping his cheek and Tim was getting scared that he might burn the other with how hot he felt his face get.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to say it yet. We’ve got all the time in the world after all, right?”

Oh.

Oh Kon, how did you always find the exact right words to say? Because even though Tim still doubted that what they had now would really last, he did want that time now.

The same time he would’ve refused a hundred times over if he had been asked just a day before.

But maybe life wouldn’t be all that bad if he could spend it in Kons arms. Of course, assuming that he would have a place there.

Even if Kon left now, Tim would never move on, never truly leave this café. Maybe, the next time that he would be falling, it would remind him of Kon carrying him around the night sky.

If he ever could let go of the railing again would depend on what was about to happen.

Right. They still had a lot to talk about.

After a while, Kon had sat down on his chair again, and they had both ordered. Both of them had stuck to the comfortable yet dense silence between them. Maybe out of fear of what would happen once either of them opened their mouth.

Finally, it was Tim who worked up the courage to start the conversation once again.

“I’m sorry. For everything. I thought that if I distanced myself from you-” he could feel his eyes getting teary again, but he collected himself again, continuing what he had been trying to get out “it’d be easier for you to move on. When I would be gone”

“I wouldn’t have moved on. Ever” Kon stated with such certainty, as if it was simply a proven fact that he could never be who he was now without Tim. As if his importance was simply a given, something that he had never once doubted.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure”

“Since when were you, y’know”

Oh fuck.

How could he even answer that?

‘Oh yeah basically I didn’t really like my life in the first place so I started planning for it when i became Robin, so yeah I was planning to kill myself all throughout our friendship!’ really didn’t feel appropriate.

He didn’t want to confess that that was all he had ever truly been. That there was nothing more to him than this shell of a human, that that was all that Kon had ever known from him.

But he had to. That was the reason he had asked for this hangout after all. To confess his sins and beg for forgiveness, knowing full well that he had never deserved it.

And yet, Kon granted it to him again and again, not a doubt in his mind about speaking Tim free of his misdeeds. A true saint as he had always been.

“I started planning it when I first became Robin a year ago”

“So the thing on Apokolips- it wasn’t the reason?”

What? He really hadn’t expected that. Kon had thought their fight had-

Kon blamed himself.

Of course he did, he always did, never being able to admit that something had been out of his control. He was a super, he was supposed to be super, to know everything and be there for everyone.

But Tim had spent the last two months doing what he thought would make sure Kon wouldn’t do exactly that. Clearly, another plan of his had failed.

“You could never be the reason for that. Anything but you.”

Kons expression immediately filled with relief. Just how much had he held onto this belief that it had been his fault, that he had been responsible?

It was hard to know, but Tim knew one thing. He would make it up to Kon in every way possible, if he let him.

“Oh yeah, I also heard you talking to someone. I mean you don’t have to tell me but-”

“Jason. Caught me with a grapple gun right after I jumped and has been weirdly insisting on taking care of me. He even somehow managed to get me these in my exact size in the like, 20 minutes I had to come here”

“You knew him before?”

“No- Well, I mean, that’s kind of complicated? But in general, no. I don’t even know how he figured out what size or what kind of stuff I usually wear”

“Wait wait wait if you jumped, where did all that blood come from?”

How did Kon know about the blood? Sure, sitting in a wheelchair wasn’t exactly an indicator that he was healthy, but Kon hadn’t seen him in his previous clothes.

“Were you watching me?”

Kons face turned red as a tomato allmost immeditaly. Absolutely adorable, in Tims very unbiased objective opinion.

“I uhm. Flew to Gotham after I heard about the whole you-wanting-to-die thing. Saw you through some window”

Kon had been worried enough about him to fly to Gotham for no other reason than to see him? He hadn’t even interacted with him, hadn’t even tried to. He had just… looked if he was alright.

This guy kept surprising and overwhelming him at the same time. Just how could anyone care this much about him? Yet Kon kept proving over and over again how it was possible.

Yes, he was pretty sure Jason cared. Mostly sure. But he had only known Tim for a day. It was easy to care when you didn’t have to put up with someone long-term. (Even though, of course, Jason was ready to care for him for the next five years if that was what Tim needed)

But Kon. Kon had known him for almost a year now, and he was still here. Still acting as if Tim was some grand treasure to be worshipped and protected.

He had confessed his damn love for him. And that was when it hit him.

His hand froze in the middle of petting the cat still comftarbly sitting on his lap as he really, truly realized it for the first time.

Kon loved him. Kon wouldn’t leave anytime soon. Because he had been with Tim through the last almost-a-year, he had gone through the distance he had forced upon the two of them. And still, he had come here to meet up with him. Not to leave forever, but to tell him that he never wanted to leave his side.

Silently, he took Kons hand under the table, holding it tightly.

He didn’t worry about Kon finding it weird, or that he would leave because of it. Because this was his Kon, god damnit, and he had always done everything in his power to show Tim just how loved he was.

He wasn’t going to leave because of some hand holding, and he wouldn’t leave because of anything else either. If anything, he would stay and try his best to comfort Tim.

Talking got easier after that, almost as if the two months before had never happened. The details of the previous night were slowly laid out for the both of them to see, and Kon tried his best to be comforting with every new thing he learned.

They wouldn’t be completly okay right away. But they had each other, and they would never let go of that again.

“By the way, where are you going to be staying the next few days?” The words hang in between the two of them, the invitation clear.

If Tim wanted, he was always welcome at Kons place. Not in a weird way, just in the way the two of them had always done. Maybe with a few more kisses than usual.

But he still had Jason, and Kon, even though he loved him dearly, was at risk for potentially being surveiled in case someone caught onto his disappearance.

“Probably with Jason if he lets me”

“Are you sure he’s safe? You haven’t known him that long and you are still pretty injured”

“Yes.”

Kon seemed to trust his judgement, immediatly dropping the topic again, but Tim wasn’t quite done yet.

“I’ll ask him if you coming over would be okay. I really miss our sleepovers” that caused Kon to smile a little, and oh Tim was going to melt right then and there.

“I miss it too. Call me, okay?”

It had slowly but surely gotten dark outside, and they had been in that café for so long that even the black cat had gotten enough of Tim. Of course, it was winter, so the sunlight never really lasted long, but it was still really time to go now. After all, Jason had probably been roaming around somewhere near them for hours now.

With a bit of Kons assistance, the two of them made their way to the exit. Of course, Tim didn’t really need it, but it was nice to have.

Nice to feel that even if he didn’t need help, he would receive it anyway if he asked for it.

He looked at Kon one last time for the day, certain that he would get another chance to admire his way-too-beautifull face tomorrow.

The punk leaned down to Tim, once again meeting him at eye level and kissing him, with no hesitation left in his movements.

This kiss was even better, if that was possible. Because this time around, Tim was certain that it wouldn’t be their last, that Kon wouldn’t push him back in disgust.

He would never get enough of Kons lips meeting his own, carefully carressing him as if he was a treasure while also having a certain roughness to them that just felt absolutely perfect.

In the end they had to sepperate once again, but it was okay, because that only meant that they’d get to see one another again soon.

It was okay. And this time, Tim was sure that he would be okay too.

Chapter Text

Jason was feeling anxious for the first time in what was probably a way too long time.

Ever since he had come to Gotham, he had been sure about his actions. He’d had a clear plan that left no possibilities for mistakes. It was what he needed to do.

Build up himself as a threat, confront Batman, either get him to take out the joker or do it himself, and at some point make an example of the new bird.

Kill the new Robin. He had spent weeks researching everything about him, getting to know every little detail of the boy's life. And now he found himself waiting around the corner of a café, waiting for the same boy to return from a meetup with his crush.

And he was anxious. Anxious about Tims well-being. What if Kon had said something wrong? Made Tim take him up on their deal to ‘arrange that’ for him if he still wanted to die?

At the time, he hadn’t cared about the kids' survival beyond a very surface level. But now?

He wanted him to live. Not simply because he had sworn to protect the children of Gotham, but because he wanted Tim to grow up. To have a chance at life beyond Robin, beyond his always absent parents.

He wanted Tim to get what Jason had gotten when he found Bruce. A decent, loving parent.

That was what Bruce was supposed to be. Sure, he was far from perfect. But Jason had known that he was loved, while Tim clearly had no Idea about it.

Bruce surely loved him, Jason was sure of that. The old man had never been good at expressing emotions. It had been fine with his previous two sons, who had simply taken the affection they needed, not quietly looking for reassurance but rather assuming it as a given once they had settled into Wayne Manor.

But Tim was different. Sure, all of them had been traumatized in their own ways, but Jason and Dick had known they were loved. Tim, however, saw himself as more of an inconvenience to anyone around. It wasn’t hard to guess that he had probably learned that from his parents.

Jason had never wanted Kids. But he did love taking care of Damian at the league. While the little guy could sometimes be an absolute demon, most of the time, he was adorable. Just a way-too-uptight kid who needed someone in his life that wasn’t all about duty and honor.

Someone to teach him curse words, on occasion. Or to just be a figure from outside the league.

The boy was traumatized and violent, but if he would ever come to Gotham Jason wouldn’t hesitate to take him in for even a second.

And Tim?

Even though Jason had hated him for months, had made him out to be the villain of his story in his mind, he couldn’t help but care for the kid. And as he wondered about where Tim would be staying the night, he felt himself wanting the kid to stay over at his place.

It was rational, right? The Drakes Manor was always empty, way too much space for Tim to feel alone again and fall into the same cycle again. And Wayne Manor was just…

He wanted him to stay at his place. Because there, he could make sure that he wasn’t climbing up on another rooftop. Tim just had to want to stay there too.

The sun had started going down, and Jason had spent the day running random errands near the café. He regularly checked if Tim was still inside, but still every time that he turned around again he got worried. Worried that Tim might go out of the café without waiting for him and go roll himself off the nearest bridge.

He didn’t owe it to Jason to stay alive, after all. Well, he kind of did, but only for a few more hours. And after all, what did debts mean to someone who wanted to die?

But, finally, while Jason was sitting on a bench nearby reading a book, both Tim and Kon got out of the café. He tried to watch them without looking all too creepy, but he couldn’t help staring a little. This was the kid he had saved after all, he wouldn’t let him be messed up by some super now.

They kissed. That was good, right? Probably. Hopefully.

He didn’t have that much experience in that regard. The most romance he had ever had was quietly crushing on Dicks teammate when he was still Robin, but considering that his crush was as old back then as he was now, it was good that he hadn’t even noticed what Jason was up to back then.

Although, if they met again now, that might be fun. After all, Jason was turning 18 next week. Or 19, he wasn’t quite sure. The year that he’d been dead for kind of messed things up a lot. But an age gap of 3 years wasn’t that bad now was it-

Stop it Jason, you’re here for Tim. You’re supposed to be the responsible one here. Responsible adults don’t think about getting with their teenage crush instead of paying attention to what their kid is doing.

Well, not exactly his kid. Yet. He would be open to changing that, though. It’d actually be hilarious if he adopted Tim before Bruce got to.

That would probably be an even better Identity reveal than the whole ‘That’s right, it’s me, your son, Batman! And it’s Red Hood B!’ stick he had planned.

Imagine your son comes back from the dead just to adopt the kid you were supposed to adopt before you could. Imagine that, Bruce.

Although, it was still a bit early for that. They still had to get through their first milestone after all: keeping Tim alive past midnight.

“Heyy” Tim greeted him, rolling over to the bench he had been sitting on. Although Jason had been reading for almost an hour now, he had barely gotten 5 pages deep into the book.

Man, he had to stop thinking about adopting Bruce's kids away from him. But it would be a really funny way to show him just how flawed he was-

Anyway.

“Hey Timbo, you ready to go home for the day?”

Suddenly, Tims expression changed drastically, a definite look of panic taking over right before he went back to his usual, neutral bat-trained indifference.

“Yeah, don’t worry about getting me there. I know the way”

“Wait Timmy what do you mean? I gotta get there too, remember?”

Oh. Oh he thought he was going to send him back to-

“What do you need at Drake Manor? Don’t worry about the money for the clothes I can pay you back right now, just-”

The kid started reaching for his wallet, but Jason immediately stopped him.

“No. I don’t need money and you are not going back to the Manor. You’re staying with me” he softened his tone, asking more than stating now, “if that’s what you want, at least”

“But you said-”

“It’s your home too if you want it to be. Now, do you want to go or is there anything you still want to do for today?”

“Are you going out as Red Hood today?”

“No. I put all my stuff off to Gary for today. I’m free for the entire night if you need me”

“We could get some snacks and do a movie night?”

They proceeded to head over to the next supermarket, and of course, they definitely did not at all fight over the best chip flavours.

“You’re insane if you don’t like paprika”

“I didn’t say that I don’t like it, I just said that sour cream and onions way better”

“You also chose the whole-hazelnut chocolate, why am I even surprised by your bad taste at this point”

“Says the one who likes 90% chocolate? That’s just straight up masochism”

Jason held his hand before his mouth as if he was deeply upset by what Tim had just said.

He loved this bickering. Because for once, Tim stood his ground on something. He acted like a normal teenager, fighting about things that didn’t really matter as if his life depended on it.

It was so… normal. And Jason had a feeling that that was exactly what the kid needed. To fight with someone about which chips flavour to buy.

They ended up getting both Sour cream & onion and paprika. Because how could Jason deny Tim something. But still, he hadn’t quite been willing to give up his own agenda either. He was, after all, objectively correct. Paprika was clearly superior in every possible way.

After they had gotten everything the two of them felt was necessary (some good frozen Pizza, Popcorn, the two packets of chips and chocolate for both of them), Tim stopped Jason for a second.

“So, I know this is weird, but like sometimes I need to do something with my hands too in order to like feel calm? And I have my stuff at Wayne Manor?”

“Okay what do you need? A rubik's Cube?"

“Yarn and a crochet hook?”

Damn, the kid was productive even when just watching a damn movie.

So, they walked around the store, until they found the yarn aisle. It was rather small, but Tim had insisted on not going to another store just for that, so it’d have to do.

Tim grabbed a 4mm crochet hook and then went over to inspect the yarn, reading the labels and seemingly checking things that Jason didn’t really understand. He was more of a book reading guy if anything.

In the end, Tim got two huge black skeins and one in red. He also exchanged the 4mm hook for one in 4.5, mentioning that it wasn’t the best hook since it wasn’t ergonomical but it’d do.

Jason made a mental note to get him an ergonomic (?) crochet hook in 4.5mm as soon as possible.

“You already know what you’re going to make?”

“Yup. But it’s a surprise”

When they finally got to the checkout, Tim tried to pay. Jason was not about to let him.

“Cmon the yarns really kind of expensive-”

“Tim if you don’t stop right now I will buy you two more, now go and put it in the bag instead of trying to pay”

“I am a successful shrug lord and have a credit card from Thalia. Trust me, I’ve got enough money” he added after they had walked out, the shopping bag resting on Tims lap. Jason had agreed to let the kid carry it as long as he got to pay.

He would’ve already adopted Tim if he could, of course he would pay for the kids stuff.

Getting home was kind of a long task, considering that with the wheelchair, it wasn’t really an option to use Jason's motorcycle. But at least that meant plenty of time to ask about how the date had gone.

“It wasn’t a date”

“You two kissed at the end. It was a date”

“You saw that?” Tim asked, sounding absolutely mortified. As if Jason was his dad and had just caught him sneaking around with his newest crush.

Well, it was kind of like that. Just a bit.

“Yes I did. Now, how was it? Was he nice? He better have been”

“Of course he was.”

“Cmon don’t make me ask for every detail. Just tell me how it was? Please? I’m nosy”

Tim sighed dramatically, looking up at Jason. “Why do you need to know that”

“I just want to hear how my little brother spent his day”

Something softened in Tims expression, and suddenly he realized that that was the first time he had called him his little brother.

Tim eventually gave in, telling him all about the date, even though Jason did notice that he had left some of the details out. But it was alright, after all, Tim was right. He really didn’t need to know all about the two of them kissing.

Finally, the two of them arrived at the apartment, and after a lot of back and forth on Jason's side to carry everything up the stairs (“I can walk you Idiot” “Yeah, in about two weeks”) they both settled down on the couch once again.

“What d’you wanna watch?”

“No Idea”

“Ever seen pride and prejudice?"

“I think not actually”

And of course, that meant that Jason just had to show it to him. What else was he supposed to do?

That didn’t stop him from commenting on all the inaccuracies of the movie though, pausing every 10 minutes to point out some small detail that was always really, really important.

Meanwhile, Tim had started crocheting with the red yarn, making some kind of rather small band with it while regularly standing up to hold it around himself and see how long it had gotten. Jason didn’t know enough about crochet to be quite sure what the kid was making, but it looked like a piece of clothing.

Pants, maybe?

And so, the two of them peacefully sat beside each other, both of them kind of doing their thing but still sharing it with the other. Eventually, a while after pride and prejudice had ended and they had changed to a movie both of them didn’t really care about, Tim had enough of Jason asking him what he was making.

“A red hood hoodie. I was wondering if I should make it for you, but since that would be kinda dangerous with the whole Identity thing, it’s for me”

Jason was stunned. Bamboozled.

“What? If you wanna be a successful villain you gotta have your own fanclub. I’m just helping you reach your dreams Idiot”

He’d been called an Idiot pretty often over the last few hours, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. It meant that Tim was comfortable enough around him to insult him, which in his book, was a definite win.

And Tim was making a red hood-hoodie. As far as he could tell, that would take, like, a lot of time. Because even though they had been sitting there for a good three hours now, Tim only had finished with what seemed like half the front of the hoodie.

The kid was making a damn hoodie of him. Fucking hell that was just the cutest thing he had ever heard.

He was definitely not letting Tim go back to Bruce again. He could be Robin, if he really wanted to, but he was Jason's kid. Brother. Whatever. He’d keep him, was the point. For as long as Tim wanted to stay, he’d always have a place with Jason.

Chapter Text

Tim woke up, wearing a giant oversized shirt of Jasons. Not that Jason was simply that giant, no, he had gotten a shirt that was oversized on Jason. And the guy was larger than Bruce, for fucks sake.

Because although Jason had somehow, and for whatever reason, decided to get him enough spare clothes for at least a week while waiting for him and Kon yesterday, he had forgotten that Tim needed something to sleep in as well. And since they had stayed up well past midnight last night, he ended up with the first shirt that had dared to fall out of Jason's closet.

It wasn’t like Tim was complaining though. It made the little voice in his head quiet down. The one still trying to convince him that Jason was just luring him into a false sense of security before getting rid of him for good.

Certainly Jason wouldn’t kick him out while he was still wearing his shirt. That’d just be inconvenient. More inconvenience than Tim was worth overall.

It wasn’t like Tim didn’t rationally know that Jason must like him. At least, that was the only thing that would explain his behaviour. And how he had repeatedly told Tim exactly that.

But it wasn’t exactly easy to just accept that. If it was that easy to just like him, why couldn’t his parents? Why had he never been enough for anyone else if it was really that simple?

Or maybe it was just the sympathy. Jason had said that he’d been at a similar point after all. This could be him projecting his past self onto Tim, and god he didn’t want Jason to be projected onto him again.

He’d been wrongfully called by his name enough times for him to just react to it as if it was his own. He just hoped that the real, actuall Jason wouldn’t find out about that. It was weird. It wasn’t okay at all. But it was what he had done in order to please Bruce. To fit in. To comfort the man that he had taken up Robin for.

No matter how much Jason wanted to tell him that it was Bruce’s responsibility to take care of him, he couldn’t believe him. Because he had entered that household as a caregiver for Bruce. He had been Robin to make sure that Batman wouldn’t kill himself, and he had been ‘Jason’ Drake to make sure that Bruce Wayne would get out of his grief and back into his actual life.

That was what he had chosen. His choices, his consequences. And if the consequences were him crying in his room at night, wondering why he could never be more than a replacement, that was okay with him. It was okay.

It was really, truly, okay. Jason just didn’t get it yet. He hadn’t seen Bruce after his death. But that also meant that he would never understand how Bruce was behaving towards Tim. That he would never understand why Tim had become part of the family in the first place.

Because he hadn’t been chosen, and that meant that he had never had the right to be taken care of like a child either.

Tim didn’t end up changing out of the shirt just yet. If that inconvenience was what kept Jason from throwing him out, he’d keep it on his side for as long as possible, even if the whole thing was really unlikely.

It wasn’t like he wanted to think that Jason was a bad person or something. It was just easier to have that extra assurance that even if he fucked up, he’d be able to stay for just a minute longer, maybe get the chance to explain.

When Tim walked out of the room, he found Jason already making breakfast again. He’d just get himself some coffee later. Better than annoying him while he was making his food. After all, Alfred had taught Jason how to cook, and if Tim knew anything about the Kitchen in Wayne Manor it was that no one but Alfred was allowed in there. So Jason probably didn’t want him talking at him either.

Although he really wanted to ask him where the wheelchair had ended up last night, because walking even the ten steps it had taken to look from his room to the Kitchen was enough for him to be gasping for air and holding his side.

“Hey Timbo. Wait why are you- Oh fuck I forgot to bring you the wheelchair shit Wait lemme just-” Jason left everything he was working on to rush and run across the rather tiny apartment, where the wheelchair was still standing just a bit off from the couch. How had he even gotten to his room without it last night?

Oh, right. Jason had half-carried him. And was now probably letting his breakfast burn to get him the wheelchair. Could he even be a bigger burden?

But at least he could move now. Time to get back to the room and hide before he could bother Jason even more.

“Wanna stay here? I mean if you’re tired you can go lay down again, but if you want I’d love to have you here”

Strange. But slowly, Tim was getting used to Jason’s weird behaviours. He had stopped questioning why he wanted him around all the time. If there was a reason for it beyond literally just liking it when he was there, which was highly illogical in Tims humble opinion, he couldn’t figure it out.

“I’ll get my crochet stuff”

Jason smiled at him a little before returning to the completely-forgotten breakfast he had been making. Hopefully it wasn’t burned. This whole exchange really wasn’t worth the wasted food.

The sun was already up high, suggesting that it was somewhere around the late morning. Tim hadn’t bothered to check his phone yet, there was nothing that he needed to stay updated on or someone he was wanting to hear from anyway.

Wait no. There was. He had someone who he’d promised to keep contact with.

Fuck, how could he have forgotten that? Kon had said he’d call him, right? What if he had last night and Tim just hadn’t heard it because of course the damn phone was set on silent as always-

He rushed over to his phone, seeing that Kon had texted him. Not called yet. He was good. And the text was just over an hour old. That was fine. He was fine.

Kon: Hey, want to go to the beach? Weathers great today

Yesyesyes of course he wanted to. No way in hell would he ever say no to hanging out with his boyfr- friend? Kon. His Kon. That sounds about right.

No way in hell would he ever say no to hanging out with his Kon again. He’d just have to go somewhere where Kon could pick him up without giving away the location of Jason's apartment. Although, seeing as Kon had kind-of-a-bit stalked him yesterday, that might just be unnecessary.

He texted back confirming that he had time and asking when Kon would want to go, before rolling back to the living room/kitchen where Jason had just finished making breakfast.

“So, if you want to, you can decorate your room. We can go get you some of the necessary stuff today, and I’d say we can get the things that are still at one of the Manors in like a week or so? Or rather when you’re fit enough to go there because that’d probably involve seeing Bruce sooner or later”

His room?

Jason wanted him to have his own room in his apartment?

“This doesn’t mean that you have to stay here. But I want you to know that you’re more than just a guest, and that means having your own space here”

“You want this? Really?”

“I want you here as much as possible, yeah. Now go sit at the damn Table, breakfast’s ready”

This guy was fucking unbelievable.

Making both of them breakfast, only making himself a cup of coffee and placing a glass of orange juice in front of Tim? He thought not. Instantly, a fight started breaking out over the once cup of coffee, with Jason vehemently defending himself saying that ‘Tim shouldn’t need any caffeine anyway’.

It ended in Jason going back to the Kitchen to fill up another mug for Tim, because of course he had made enough for the two of them.

He wasn’t stupid after all, just insistent on telling Tim that he shouldn’t be drinking coffee every time that he drank it. Which for anyone else would’ve probably ended in a kick to the stomach, but Tim tolerated it from Jason. At least right now he did.

“I’m going to the beach with Kon today”

“Don’t you have to like, ask me first or something?”

“You aren’t my mom”

“Wasn’t like I was going to say no to that anyway” Jason mumbled underneath his breath, seeming almost insulted at the previous comment.

“When are you gonna be back?”

“I take that back you’re worse than my mom”

“Not that hard to do. No but seriously, just let me know when you’re leaving and text me a bit before you’re back to tell me if you need Dinner.”

Was this what parents were supposed to be like? Huh, it wasn’t that bad after all. He had always imagined it’d be way too controlling and suffocating.

Maybe that’d just been because that way, what was happening was okay. Great, even. Because he had always been free, and no one ever tried to take that from him.

But what was freedom worth someone to share it with, what did it matter to roam the streets as he pleased without a warm home to return to?

Because home had never been a Manor, no matter if it was from the Drakes or Waynes. Home had been that feeling of affection, unconditional love and care, the kind he had seen when his friends got picked up from school while standing on the sidelines himself, picked up by a nanny who would leave the moment her shift ended.

So, that was his day. Kon had said he’d pick him up around 3pm, which meant that he and Jason still had time to go pick out some things for his new room. Jason also insisted on getting both of them lunch on the way, stating that Tim desperately needed 3 meals a day. Which, in Tims opinion, was pretty bullshit, since they had just eaten breakfast two hours earlier, and he’d meet up with Kon in just an hour who he’d probably get some more food with.

Once they both got home, having picked out paint for the room and some various other things that Tim couldn’t later get from his room at Drake Manor (he was still insisting on not going to Wayne Manor, he had taken everything that he really needed with him on his ‘undercover mission’), Tim decided to try and actually get ready for his date.

That was what it was, right? A date?

Well, they had kissed, which would indicate that they from that point on would be a… romantic thing?

He wanted to be Kons boyfriend. He wanted it to be a date.

He didn’t want to assume that Kon wanted that too, though.

Most of his ‘getting ready’ was just putting on the same pants he had gotten from Jason yesterday (they were really comfortable AND made him look good. At least as good as he could look), a shirt that wasn’t all too baggy (that’s what people wear on dates, right?) and staring at himself in the mirror trying to figure out what else to do.

Eventually, he decided to put on some eyeliner that he had brought with him (Bruce would’ve been concerned if he left without it. He hadn’t gone more than a day without it since he was thirteen).

The longer he looked at himself in the mirror, the more he could see every little detail of himself. The pimple on his forehead, the way his shirt slacked around his stomach because he was just too skinny to look good in it. The way his arms looked way too chubby for the rest of him.

But worst of all, the way his cheeks fell into his face. The longer he looked at it, the more he looked like a corpse. Like he truly had died that night.

Or at least like he’d been supposed to. Like this world had written him out of its story when he fell down the skyscraper and had now left him to rot, no matter if he was breathing or not.

His hair fell down the sides of his face, way longer than he usually liked to keep it. Of course, that was just because he hadn’t had the motivation to cut it considering he’d be dead soon anyway. But now it looked more like his face had grown smaller, all the life and blood drained from it as if he had spent those 2 days in a morgue, waiting to be put in a suit and dressed up nice for his last goodbye.

The dark shadows under his eyes started to look like his eyes were losing all the tissue around them, standing out until his eyelids would close one last time.

He looked ready to be fed to the maggots, consumed whole by the ground and forgotten until one of his friends felt bad enough to change the flowers on his grave.

Maybe he had been supposed to be dead. After all, it’d have been so much easier for everyone. Jason would still be living on his own, not spending money on someone already lost.

Because clearly, the moment he had touched death made the grim reaper chase him back, hunt him down until the rot had consumed him fully from the inside out.

Tim should’ve died that day. He regretted not trying again last night, he regretted giving life another chance when in reality, he was the one who shouldn’t get one more opportunity to live.

Meeting Kon wasn’t even an option. Not when he looked like this.

Slowly but surely, he had retreated to one of the corners in the bathroom, holding his legs as tight as he could and pressing his face up against his knees, trying to hide it. Trying to make himself as small as possible so that no one would notice him, so that no one would have to see him.

Something sharp. He needed it right now. Surely, Jason kept some razors in his bathroom. He had to. Anything, even some nail clippers would do, as long as it would hurt.

And Tim had been right. After some searching and playing around with a lock on one of the cabinets, he found a stack of refill razor blades, similar to the ones he always used.

*
He pulled his pants down, far enough to reveal all the previous scars left on his thighs, some of them not even a week old yet. But still, he had been clean for much longer than usual these days.

The last time he’d been on a beach with Young Justice, a shirt and some knee-lenght shorts were all he had needed to hide them. Now, if his shirt lifted a centimeter too high due to the wind, or if he sat down weirdly and his shorts got pushed up too high, he ran a way too high risk of revealing them. So long pants and a neatly tucked-in shirt.

That didn’t matter now. He just had to get through with this, quickly. Maybe he could still meet Kon after.

If he didn’t manage to bleed out right then and there, that was.

It wasn’t exactly his goal, he wasn’t trying to die. But he wouldn’t particularly mind it either.

Tim sat down in the shower, his pants pulled all the way off now. It’d be easier to wash it off this way.

His hand was almost shaking as he placed the blade under the last, still healing cuts, waiting for a second before sliding it over his skin with just the right pressure. He had always preferred fast cutting to going slow. Although going slow also meant going deeper, it was hard to keep going when the pain was already burning through him, but he wasn’t even done with how he wanted the cut to be like yet. So, fast it was.

But today, he needed something more. Needed the pain to shoot all throughout his body, to prove to him that he was more than a corpse.

To prove that he was still living, breathing, that he was still himself. That he hadn’t died two days ago, even if he wished that he did.

So he set the blade down on the same spot again, the previously white cut already filling up with deep, red blood. And he cut again, the pain more intense this time, filling his whole leg and making him tear up. But it felt real. Like the first sip of water after laying in the sun all day, he felt such an intense wave of relief.

He continued going along his thigh, one swipe, second swipe, sometimes even a third one. Blood was spilling everywhere, looking like a beautiful red sea, lulling him to go deeper into its waters. It was starting to make him dizzy, but not dizzy enough to make him pass out. It had only been a couple of cuts, he’d be fine. Tim knew how much blood he could lose before it got dangerous, and he was sure that just one more line would be fine.

Just one more.

*
On the edge of his mind, he registered something hitting the door. Knocking? Shit, he had to stop- Jason couldn’t see him like this.

But he had barely had time to store away the blade and badly wipe off the already half-dried blood before the door burst open.

In that very moment, he felt the dizziness overtake him, leaving him with only a thick, black blanket over all of his senses except for the throbbing pain in his side and leg.

Chapter Text

Kon was waiting on the spot they agreed on to pick Tim up. Of course, it’d be easier to do it from a house or something rather hidden, but Tim had figured out a corner with no CCTV and almost no people either, so it was fine.

It wasn’t like Kons identity was very secret anyway, but Tim couldn’t just let himself be seen, flying with superboy or not. After all, he was supposed to be on a week-long undercover mission.

So he waited. Usually Tim always made a point to be exactly on time, so when he wasn’t there yet ten minutes after they’d agreed to meet up, Kon was starting to worry. Had something happened on the way there? Had that Jason guy done something?

Had Tim decided that yesterday was all just a joke and gone back to how he was before?

But that still wouldn’t make sense. Tim had never agreed to hangout and then just not shown up. Maybe he was just running late for once. People change after all.

Kon leaned back and decided to listen in on Tims heartbeat, for his own comfort. If he was kidnapped, surely it’d be racing or something. So, when all he heard was a comforting, steady rhythm, he calmed down a bit. Sure, it was going a slight bit slower than normal, but not slow enough for it to be caused by a drug.

It’d be fine. Tim was just late for the first time in his life.

So he waited as the minutes passed by, Tims heartbeat still going steady as he slowly lost himself in the rhythm of it.

Tim never came. It had been an hour since they agreed to meet up, and Kon had checked their chat 50 times to make sure that he was really at the right place, that they had really agreed on 3pm. But he was right, and Tim hadn’t even told him that he was running late. In fact, he hadn’t said anything in the last few hours.

Did he do something wrong? Was yesterday too much? Maybe the kiss had just been impulsive and he regretted it now and he regretted seeing Kon too and-

What if he had messed up their friendship by doing that? Tim could’ve just felt pressured into doing that, he wasn’t even able to say that he liked him too after all-

After all, Kon was now standing in some random abandoned corner of Gotham all alone, no one, and especially not Tim, in sight.

He decided to just listen in on what was going on around Tim for a moment to make sure that he wasn’t in any actual danger before heading home. It wasn’t really that likely that something was going on. After all, even when he couldn’t call for backup from Batman, he could still call out Kons name. That had been the deal with all of Young Justice: If they were in danger and needed him, they’d just need to say his name and he’d be there.

It was mostly when one of them fell off of a building or something like that. Immediate situations that only a super could fix.

But Tim had fallen off of a building, and he hadn’t called for him. Because he didn’t want him there. Today was just the same old story again.

Kon wanted to be there for Tim. Tim didn’t want Kon to be. Kon stayed on the sidelines to jump in if he was needed anyway.

Tim wasn’t saying much of anything, but he could still hear a faint noise of someone crying nearby.

He should probably stop by Jason’s apartment and see what was going on. But how could he, knowing that Tim probably didn’t want him there?

Of course, he went anyway. Because no matter if Tim wanted him or not, he’d always be there if he needed him.

~~~

After no response from Tim after he had been banging on the door for 5 minutes, Jason decided to open the lock himself. Tim had been there for almost an hour now, even though he had been supposed to meet Kon like 20 minutes ago. Something was going on in there, and Jason needed to know.

The first thing he noticed was the blood. As if Roy had come back from a particularly bad patrol to recover at his place, there was blood everywhere. Pooling in his shower, running down Tims legs, it was as if a glass of red ink had splattered over the room, leaving it looking like a battlefield.

A war that Tim seemed to have lost.

Only moments after Jason had entered, neither of them had even gotten the chance to react, to say anything yet, Tim collapsed right then and there. He would’ve hit his head right on the wall if Jason hadn’t finally gained his composure back and caught him the millisecond before any more damage could be done.

It was easy to see why Tim had passed out. Multiple stitches on his side had ripped, adding to the sea of blood that was already flowing out of him.

Jason couldn’t afford to worry about what had happened at that moment. The only important thing was making sure that Tim didn’t lose any more blood than he already had. Man, the kid really needed to stop passing out from blood loss, it was really becoming a bad habit now.

He rushed to the mini MedBay he had set up, taking every supply he could possibly think of needing to the Bathroom. Briefly he had considered just taking Tim there, but the possibility of ripping another stitch open combined with the time he’d lose carrying a whole-ass-Tim there was enough to make him move his first aid to the bathroom.

His hands were shaking as if he was about to perform open heart surgery, but there was no time for him to worry now. It’d have to do, because he was all Tim had right now. Damn it, he couldn’t even give the boy a blood transfusion now, he had used up every bag of O- he had when he stitched him up two days ago. And of course, he hadn’t thought to ask Tim what his blood type was.

It wasn’t like Jason had thought he’d be fixing the kid up again just two days later.

First was the stab wound. It was easy to fix the torn stitches and bandage it up. It’d hopefully stop bleeding soon enough. Next he did his best to fix what had been left on Tims leg. The cuts were deep, but not deep enough to have hit anything vital. So, steristrips over the deepest few, and some pressure bandages to make it stop fucking bleeding.

It was hard to see what he was doing as the blood just kept flowing, covering his hands and the floor beneath Tim. But somehow he worked through it. He finished up his work by checking if there was anything else he had missed, but thankfully, that had been it.

His hands were still shaking, but he wasn’t quite done yet. He should still have some blood substitute left, even though he didn’t really keep much in stack. Wasn’t like he was treating Jehovah's Witnesses in his fucking apartment.

Now that the worst was over, he could carry Tim to the MedBay and give it to him there. Carefully he picked the boy up, holding him close to his chest while he slowly carried him back to the bed he had just cleaned up from his last visit there.

Oh, Tim. What happened?

Finally, Jason had actually finished. Gave Tim what he had of the blood substitute and wiped off the blood so he could be sure that he hadn’t made any mistakes or left anything out earlier.

He sat down by Tims bed just like he had not even two days before, and he found himself asking the same question once again.

What could’ve possibly caused this?

Everything had been going so well. Jason was doing everything he could, trying his best to make sure that Tim knew he was welcome. That Jason cared.

If Tim would’ve come to him instead he would’ve done his damned best to support him in any way possible. But what was he even supposed to do now?

How could he help when he was already too late?

He couldn’t keep doing this. Things wouldn’t change if he always found Tim at the very last second when any help beyond stitches and Bandages had already become unnecessary.

Where had he gone wrong? Was it too early to give Tim his own room, did he feel pressured into staying with Jason? Did he say something that had thrown him off, maybe made a joke that had gone too far?

He tried to find something, anything, went through all the interactions he had had with Tim since the two of them met on that rooftop, but there wasn’t anything there.

The only explanation was that Tim had already been doing this before. Jason had seen the scars and scabs after all, he’d been doing it for at least more than a year already.

But he couldn’t just accept that.

He couldn’t accept that this wasn’t something he could help with, nothing that could be fixed in the near future. It had become a part of Tim quite similar to the scars it left, able to become paler, blend in, but it could never disappear again, only heal.

Of course Jason was ready for that. He’d known that Tim was dealing with a lot, that he needed to get a therapist from out of town for him as soon as humanly possible. In fact, he had already done some research into that.

He just hadn’t been prepared for it to hurt this much. Seeing Tim lay there on the blank, white bed sheets while his thighs were covered in everything from mostly faded white scars to fresh red cuts, it was as if he could feel his own damn heart break.

This was the kid he had been supposed to protect, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d failed him.

~~~

Jason had been sitting at Tims side for a while now, silently crying while hoping for the boy to just finally wake up. He should be cleaning the bathroom. He should be throwing away those fuckass razor blades and get a kid-safe one instead. He should give the therapists he had planned to contact while Tim was away with Kon a call to get Tim an appointment.

But what if Tim woke up and he wasn’t there? What if he thought that Jason had left him because of what had happened?

No matter how he had caused this, he wouldn’t fail Tim again. Never again.

And finally, he opened his eyes, squinting at the sight of the way-too-bright lights the same way he had done not even two days earlier.

“Hey Timbo”

“Jason? You’re- You’re still here?”

“Of course kid”

Silence followed, but Jason needed to ask something. He just needed to know. He had to.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Could you please just not?”

“No, Tim. I need to know why you did this, how else am I supposed to protect-”

“You don’t need to fucking protect me. I can take care of myself just fine”

“Yeah I can see that”

Tim turned around on the bed, purposefully avoiding looking at Jason. And damn, he knew that what he said was wrong, and that he should really back down now, but Jason had never been good at stopping once he had started something.

And if this was going to help him understand, he needed to know.

“Why.”

“I don’t know, alright? It’s not like I have any fucking controll over it anymore, I mean look at me! Do you think I do this just because it’s fun? Because I like to play the victim or something? You think it’s about that? Attention? Oh, look at Tim, he’s such a big attention seeker, he looks like Frankenstein himself with all those scars!”

“Frankenstein's the professor, not the monster”

“I know”

Silence spread between the two of them. Tim was still refusing to look at Jason, staring at the wall as if he was trying to decode something on it.

How was he supposed to reply to that? Jason knew that he fucked up big time. He should’ve stopped that moment it was starting to turn into a fight.

He wasn’t supposed to fight Tim, he was supposed to help Tim fight through the things that resulted in this. But still he had acted like Tim was at fault here, forcing him to give an answer when the only person he should have to tell about all of this was a therapist.

That simply wasn’t something Jason could do. He couldn’t protect Tim from himself, he could only try to support him the best that he could.

Jason really needed to apologize for that. What had happened wasn’t Tims fault, and it wasn’t his responsibility to blame him for it or to try and ‘fix’ him.

Apologizing had never been easy for Jason. The last time he remembered saying the word ‘Sorry’ was to his mother when she had been crying about dad leaving again. He’d been so sure that it was his fault, that the only reason she was sad again was that he just couldn’t be good enough. He hadn’t been working after all, only bringing in some change from selling off the things he was stealing from other kids just as poor as him. And on top of all of that, they needed to pay for his food, sometimes even for new school books.

Of course dad was leaving because of him. Of course mom was crying because of him.

Shortly after, his mother had taken all the remaining money from the coin jar in the kitchen and gone off with it. But this time, she came home early, laying down in bed next to Jason to warm the both of them.

The next day he had woken up to a corpse that had already gone cold.

After that, he hadn’t apologized to anyone again. Not to Batman when he had tried to steal his tires, not to Talia when he had messed up at the league again. Jason Todd had never apologized to anyone.

But now, that was all he wanted to do. He wanted to tell Tim that he was sorry, to admit that he had been wrong and to hug Tim tight as he apologized a thousand times.

“I’m sorry.”

“What, for the Frankenstein comment? Don’t worry I know you’re a literature nerd”

“For saying well… all of that. I shouldn’t have commented on your ability to take care of yourself or forced you into giving me a reason. That’s your business.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, wanting to properly explain everything. “I know it’s not a justification, but I was really, really worried after seeing you like that. I don’t know what happened and if I was part of whatever caused this, but I felt like I failed you and had to fix it. I know that doesn’t make it okay and all it’s just- the reason, you know?”

“You weren’t”

“What?”

“You weren’t any part of the reason. I like being here. With you.”

“Oh” was the only thing he managed to bring out as a response. Tim still wasn’t facing him, but he could hear the tears in his voice now. And God damnit, Jason wanted nothing but to wipe those tears from his face before they turned into blood again.

He’d respect the distance Tim was putting in between the two of them, though. The kid would come to him when he felt ready to do so.

Because somehow, he managed to make him feel safe enough to stay here. That was a big step forward, at least in his book. Sure, they still had a long way to go. Both of them.

But the bathroom would be cleaned and Tims wounds would heal, and even if new ones got added again, Jason would be there to bandage them up and provide whatever support it was that the kid needed.

After sitting together in silence for a while, Tim turned around, still teary eyed but finally looking at him again.

“You meant any of it?”

“Not a single word”

“Promise?” he extended his pinky finger, holding it out to Jason.

“Promise.” And they shook their pinkies on it, because if that was what would help Tim, Jason would pinky promise it to him a thousand times over.

Suddenly, he was pulled in by his wrist, the force way greater than you’d expect from a rather tiny 15 year old. In the next moment, he found himself being hugged as if he was a lifeline, Tim clinging to him so vehemently that he was a bit worried that the kid would tear one of his stitches again.

But after reassuring himself that he was taking care of himself, Jason returned the hug, holding Tim as tightly as he could without suffocating him.

In that Moment he realized that there would never be anything as undoing as a child. But Jason didn’t love Tim despite the difficulties that he brought with him, he simply just loved him.

Chapter Text

Tim was still in the MedBay. The air between him and Jason was still a bit tense, but it was getting better.

He hadn’t expected Jason to apologize like that.

Back in his stalker days, he had once heard a fight between Robin (at the time, Jason) and Batman going on. Of course, some of the pictures of that day were still stored away safely in his room at Drake Manor.

It sounded like Jason made some kind of mistake. Tim wasn’t sure what had happened exactly, but it certainly didn’t happen while the two of them were fighting. He would’ve noticed that.

“Why can’t you just apologise? You made a mistake, you need to fix it Robin!” Batman had yelled, already aggressively hovering over the younger vigilante-sidekick.

“How will apologising help with fixing this? I’d rather actually help than turn up some useless phrases to get out of it”

“Fine. But one day, you’ll need to learn how to apologise. You won’t always be able to just reverse what you’ve done.”

“Over my dead body”

Well, that last one seemed kind of ironic now.

Back then, Tim was surprised at how Robin had acted. After all, he seemed to exist to apologize. Every action, every little flaw was something he had to own up to. He couldn’t be fixed, so the only thing he had left was to assure his parents that he was aware of his missteps and his deficits, and that he regretted them just as much as they did.

That was probably why he remembered what had been said so well.

Robin was someone who didn’t apologize, he could fix his mistakes. And oh, Tim was so damn jealous.

When he became Robin, he thought it’d be like that. That his mistakes would be fixed and forgiven, he simply had to work for it. But he was still Tim, and he was simply irreparably broken.

It had become clear to him once when he messed up on a mission, blowing his cover even though he didn’t have to.

“Robin, you’ve sabotaged this whole operation. I can’t have you rushing to save someone when they’re already accounted for, that’s not what we’re here to do”

Tim had broken down immediately, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. But back at him stared the blank, black cowl, donning its usual cruel scowl, meant to scare criminals. But now, the only one it was scaring was Tim, reminding him of all the flaws he could never fix and the skills he was lacking, throwing all the guilt that he’d been suppressing right back into his face.

That night was the first time that Bruce got his name right on the first try.

It was also the night that Tim realized for sure that being Robin wouldn’t undo his misdeeds, that there was simply no way out for him.

But now, the Robin that had been so insistent on never apologizing had done so. To him, of all people. It wasn’t like he deserved the apology either.

Still, it felt good. Comforting, even.

“There are some things that make me want to… you know?”

“Wanna tell me about them?”

“If I’d list all of it I’d never be done”

“Then is there a certain type of thing? Anything I can do to help you avoid them?”

Tim had tried that one a while ago. And of course it didn’t work. How could it when even seeing a razor made him want to drag it across his skin, when the always-remaining pain of his own scars made him want to create new ones?

Triggers could never be fully avoided, because everything could be triggering. He could only learn to accept them, to take control of the urge despite everything. There was no avoiding the urges, not when they sat so deeply within him, his own body being the biggest trigger of all.

But he had never quite managed to do that.

“No.”

He had tried every alternative, snapped elastics against his wrist and cut paper with red cardboard underneath. He’d done it all, from just quitting without anything to getting every self-help kit that he could find on etsy.

In the end, the blade always welcomed him back like an old friend, waiting to catch up on the time they’d lost.

But maybe not being alone would change that. Maybe, if the blade wasn’t his only company, he wouldn’t hug it so desperately anymore.

“But we could try to like, work out a system? So I can try to tell you when something happens?”

“Can’t you just come to me? Or call me?”

If that’d work, he’d have fixed his whole problem months ago. It wasn’t like Kon would hate him for self harming, he knew that. Hell, he’d do his best to help Tim in every way possible.

But Kon had always been a whole town over, and even if it was just a matter of minutes for him, Tim would’ve felt like the biggest bother in the world. He couldn’t just ask for help like that. What kind of fucking attention-seeker behaviour was that even.

“It’s kinda hard to like, reach out? Most times I don’t even want to”

“A watch?”

“Hm?”

“I could get us one of those safety-jewelry things. Like, you press it twice and I get an alarm or something. And it works both ways so you’re helping me too in case I’m in trouble”

“Oh. Yeah I think that’d probably work”

“And even if you don’t like- it’s okay. I won’t be like earlier again, I promise”

“You already apologized it’s fine”

“It doesn’t have to be fine just because I said sorry”

“Honestly I’ve heard worse”

At that, Jason stood up in front of Tim, hands on his hips as if he was a mother trying to lecture her child.

“Tim. Just because someone was awful to you or because I regret what I said doesn’t mean that you have to be perfectly okay again, you know that right?”

Tim, in fact, did not know that. Well, rationally it made sense. But still, he should just be able to walk it off. He was Robin, he could deal with a little fight.

He’d rarely fought with Bruce, but when he did, it had always been fine. Bruce didn’t need to apologize, and they’d gone back to patrol normally the next day, forgetting that most times it was because Tim had hurt himself and refused to be benched afterward.

Hell, the only time benching had worked between the two of them was when Tim was the one benching Bruce (although, that still required some help from Alfred). He knew all the ways to comfort someone and make sure that they were taking care of themselves, although he had never even considered applying that to himself.

He didn’t need it. Bruce, on the other hand, was still grieving his son. Of course he’d need a little help.

Which also involved forgiveness. It was a given. He’d forgive Bruce, just as he’d forgive that Tim was a kid who had invaded his life, not a son he’d chosen willingly.

But here he was, and Jason despite apologising wasn’t even asking to be forgiven. He was just concerned about Tims well-being.

“It’ll be okay. If it really bothers me we can talk about it again, right?”

“Of course”

He knew that it wouldn’t, but assuring Jason that he’d come to him and talk it out just-in-case was more important to Tim at the moment.

Some time passed, and Jason finally allowed Tim to stand up again (“be careful and if you move even a bit too quickly I’m rolling you around on the bed for the rest of the day”). It was weird to walk, or well, roll around (Jason was not letting go of the wheelchair yet) with his new cuts so out in the open. Even if they were bandaged, he had never just let them be like that, always quickly putting on long pants or hiding them under blankets, no matter how much the fabric felt like it was digging into his skin or rubbing around the wound, irritating it further.

He’d hit it as if it was a secret of the highest priority, because what would people think if they saw it? How could he step into his parents, or Bruce’s sight, presenting himself as who he really was?

A broken record, scratched so many times that you could barely hear the music anymore.

Finally, and with way more help from Jason than he’d prefer, he got to the bathroom and put the pants he had abandoned there back on. Luckily, no blood had gotten on them, but his shirt still definitely needed changing.

Wait. The pants and the shirt. That he had put on for his date with Kon. His date with Kon that was supposed to start over an hour ago-

Oh fuckfuckfuck. He’d forgotten. He hadn’t even texted Kon that he was running late or that he couldn’t make it, nothing.

Kon probably thought that Tim was distancing himself again. That he was going back to what he’d done before which he really didn’t want to do, but he just did and-

It’d be okay. Breathe, Tim, breathe. You can still call him and explain. Yes it’ll be absolutely shitty to explain. Yes, Kon deserves that explanation anyway.

So he ended up rushing back to his room, trying to find his phone whereever-the-fuck he had left it after coming back from buying all this damn stuff with Jason.

One missed call, 3 messages.

The first text was to tell him that he’d arrived at the spot they’d agreed on, then one after half an hour asking him if he was running late (He never was. Kon knew that he never ran late. He must’ve thought Tim was kidnapped or something-), and one about twenty minutes ago asking him what was going on and stating that he’d be leaving if Tim didn’t turn up soon.

It’d be fine. He’d call Kon back and they could maybe still meet up-

Why did he always mess up like this? The moment he found himself finally happy it was like he also set out on a mission to destroy all sources of that happiness.

Not right now. He just had to call him and it’d be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.

“Tim?”

“Hey, Kon. I’m so sorry I know we-”

“What happened?”

“I- I’m sorry but can I tell you like, in person? I just- You deserve a full explanation and I can’t just give you that over the phone”

“I heard some things”

Again? Oh, Kon must’ve been really worried. Tim knew that the boy barely, if ever, used his super hearing for spying, even being hesitant when using it on missions sometimes.

“Are you okay?” Tim decided to ask. He didn’t need to know what Kon had heard if he’d explain it all anyway. Look at him, trying to communicate and check up on his friends, that’s probably the closest a bat has gotten to a healthy relationship since Dick and Wally (Or Kori. Honestly, you can replace this with a redhead of your choosing).

“Yeah- I guess? I’ve just been really worried- Was there something I did? I promise you can tell me”

“No.” he immediately responded, not a hint of hesitation in his voice. Because Kon had done everything but hurt him.

“Can we maybe still meet up? I know it’s late and you probably wanted to be home for dinner, but I really want to see you. Even if it’s just for a bit”

“Yeah of course, don’t worry I’ll just tell Ma that I won’t be there. You still wanna go to the beach, though?”

“If that’s fine by you”

“Meet you in 15?”

“I’ll be there. Promise” he said, a slight chuckle at the last word. Now he just had to change into another shirt and finish cleaning up the bathroom with Jason. Thankfully, after all the times he’d done this, he had started to develop certain cleanup routines. Blood in the shower rinsed off easily, wet wipes for the floor. Somehow, no fabric had gotten hurt in the disaster besides Tims and Jason's shirts, so he just gave Jason a few of the tips he’d figured out to make washing out blood easier. Although, that one was pretty unnecessary, since both vigilante and league work both came with a lot of blood-stained clothes.

Finally, he was outside the apartment, rolling over to the spot he and Kon had previously agreed upon. As he arrived there, Kon was already leaning against a wall, waiting for him.

And of course, after all of that, he was still smiling at Tim, so beautiful that Tim was sure he’d be blinded if he looked for too long.

Chapter Text

By the time the two of them arrived at the beach the sun was already slowly starting to go down, drowning the scene in a faint orange.

Carefully, Kon placed Tim down on the blanket he’d thrown out. Tim had convinced him to leave the wheelchair out, but he’d only agreed on the condition that Tim would ask to be carried when he needed it.

Now, they both knew Tim had never been good at asking for help. But maybe, this would be the first step to that getting better. Kon was certainly not going to let Tim walk around unsupervised, at the very least.

And hey, he’d already told Kon that he shouldn’t be sitting just on the sand (because of “the thing I wanna tell you”, which was very confusing in Kons opinion but whatever), which was already an improvement!

Tims cheeks were still a bit redder than usual, probably from the kisses they’d exchanged on the flight there. Nothing was going to stop Kon from kissing his boyfr - whatever he was - when he wanted to.

Whatever Tim had to talk about, they definitely needed to talk about what the two of them were too, because he could not take this is-he-is-he-not for long. He wanted to call Tim his boyfriend. Or say that they were seeing each other. Or whatever Tim wanted to be, he just wanted to be something together with him! Something more than friends, at least.

Kon was really trying not to think about what was about to come. He was especially trying to forget everything that he had heard. Because yes, he was worried sick, but Tim was here with him now and he was okay.

He would tell him soon enough anyway, so Kon wanted to just forget for a moment. Yes, he wanted his Tim to be okay and well. Yes, he also wanted to escape the sad reality of not having been able to help him at all by kissing him absolutely silly.

A man of many talents, as one might call him.

Soon, both of them were laid down on the blanket, all cuddled up. Tims head was just below Kons, almost laying on his chest. Perfect position to give him forehead kisses, and oh god did he look adorable like that.

But still, he couldn’t quite forget about what had happened. About the crying and the screaming and not knowing what happened but remembering every little detail of how much it had hurt Tim.

“Is it okay if we like- talk now? I just don’t want to keep thinking about it the entire time that we’re here”

“Yeah. Do you have any questions or do you just want me to like, start storytelling”

“As long as you play some subway surfers so I can concentrate”

“You fuckass low-attention span gen alpha-”

“Aye I’m gen z”

“No you’re not you were born like 5 years ago”

“If we’re counting that now then you are technically a pedophile”

“Oh shut up”

And Tim really did shut him up with a well placed kiss on his mouth, making the kryptonians face feel like it had been lit on fire. He’d never get bored of the feeling of Tims lips on his own.

“See? That’s a much better use of your mouth” Tim added, his cheeks also just slightly red-ish. It looked adorable in combination with the few freckles he had on his nose and his overall pale skin.

“So no questions?”

“Yeah, just hit me with it” Kon replied, putting his arm around Tims waist. He was now almost on top of him, resting his head on Kons shoulder. It was a position in which they both couldn’t really look at each other directly without Tim looking pretty high up, which he didn’t seem to want.

Usually, Kon would want to look at Tim and tell him that it’ll be okay.

Right now, he didn’t know if the look of pain was an addition that he needed. Hearing him scream, hearing his heartbeat fluctuate had been enough for the day. And Tim really didn’t seem to want to look him in the eyes while talking about this either, preferring to absent-mindedly fidget with the end of Kons shirt while he talked.

“I was getting ready for our date. And before you think anything that’s the only time you’re relevant in this. So it’s not your fault - If you blame yourself again I will tell Cassie that you tried on one of her crop tops once.”

“Okay okay got it” he replied, but he couldn’t quite take it seriously. The threat was simply too hilarious.

As if Cassie didn’t already know that, she was the one who made him try it! And then proceeded to gift him one (in his size and more fitting to his style) for his birthday!

“Good. Anyway, I was getting ready and I looked into the mirror for a bit too long and I just- I kinda lost it? I looked like a damn corpse and suddenly I was like ‘what if I was meant to die and then I didn’t’ so I panicked and-”

Kon was gently petting Tims hair, trying to make him calm down for a second.

“So. I panicked and I-” tears leaked down onto Kons shirt and he could hear Tim silently sobbing onto his chest.

Kon held Tim a bit closer, not wanting to interrupt him but also trying to show that he was there, that he wouldn’t leave.

“You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to”

“But I do want to, I just-”

“Hm?”

“It feels like my voice just cuts off when I try to actually say it for once. Like it just stops. I don’t even know why but-”

“Wanna write it down?”

After a moment of consideration and a few more tears, Tim responded “Yeah that’d probably work”

He took out his phone and opened the notes app, typing in something that Kon couldn’t read from this position before handing it to him.

’I cut myself’

Suddenly, Kons brain seemed to go static.

Tim hurt himself. How long had this been going on he’d never even noticed-

Was that why he insisted on not ever changing in front of the team? At first, it’d seemed like it was just about his identity, but after the reveal maybe it had just become a habit.

But now, it made sense. Tim wearing long pants and a shirt to the beach. Tim never actually going into the water.

How bad was it? Leaving scars? Oh fuck, he hadn’t even read everything of what Tim had written yet.

’Jason came in and I tried to hide it but just ended up ripping a few stitches. Ended up passed out for a while’

He hurt himself enough to pass out. Well, the stitches probably added a lot to it. But still, that had to be…

Tim was looking up at him now, still teary eyed and expression full of fear. Oh fuck, right. He had to say something.

But what could he say? How do you respond to that?

A simple ‘It’s okay’ wouldn’t be enough, but he still had to be supportive, but also not too pushy and-

Okay Kon, just take a breath. You’re the one panicking now.

He decided on hugging Tim a bit tighter, burying his face in the others hair. It smelled like lemongrass, the same shampoo as always. The last time he washed it had probably still been at the Manor.

“Can I help? At all?”

“You always have”

“Hm?”

“It’s been going on for… a long time. And when we hung out I just felt like I didn’t have to. I felt alive without having to bleed, you know?”

“So… I help?”

Tim nodded, burying his head deeper in Kons neck.

“And when I’m not there?”

“Got a deal with Jason about reaching out. I can give him your number if you want? So he can call you if he can’t help?”

“Yes please”

Silence laid over them, but it wasn’t suffocating. More like a heavy, comforting blanket, laying over the two boys as the sun slowly started to go down.

Still, one thing was bothering Kon. He couldn’t shake the thousands of images that had swarmed his head, showing different versions of what Tims scars and cuts could look like, each worse than the one before it. Did some of it cause permanent damage? Had he gotten the medical attention he needed?

Probably not before today, considering that Batman would’ve never just let this go on without an intervention. He shouldn’t either.

He’d text that Jason guy and ask about Tim getting Therapy.

“I’m so sorry this is such a weird question, but like how deep?- I just I’m worried about your safety and you said you passed out-”

“I can show you?” he offered, looking up at Kon. Seeing the scared and concerned expression on his face, Tim quickly added “Just some of the older scars, I mean. They are always pretty similar.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, I don’t really like them, but if it helps you stop worrying I don’t mind. You’d probably see them anyway, sooner or later”

Tim had moved away from his chest, sitting in front of him now. Kon followed, both of them facing each other as the air between them grew more tense.

Without another word, Tim lifted up his shirt slightly, showing rows of scars along his side. They looked neatly arranged, the placement purposeful, but the scars themselves, although fully healed, were more jagged, like the cut that had born them was made in a pure panic and with shaking hands.

Almost like Tim. Neat and organised on the surface, but so different once he actually started getting to know him.

Slowly, he raised his hand, softly sliding his fingers along the scar tissue. There was barely any skin left between them.

Tim flinched for a second, probably not having expected him to touch them. But when Kon looked up at him with a questioning expression, he simply nodded before looking away again.

It was hard to look at. Like the scars heroes often wore told stories of their heroic deeds, these told stories of pain. Of loneliness. Of times when Tim, his Tim, didn’t know another way to cope than to cut his own skin.

He placed his other hand by Tims other side, pulling the boy closer towards him and placing a kiss on his lips. It wasn’t passionate or particularly hot, but it was soft. Full of affection and acceptance, and the reassurance that he loved him.

“I love you”

In response, Tim raised a hand up to his cheek, tracing the little scar he had there softly with his thumb.

“I love you too”

Holy shit he said it. He actually really said it and Kons heart was suddenly going thrice as fast as it was supposed to.

“Holy shit Kon are you having a heart attack-”

“No” he totally was, though. Because this beautiful stunning amazon kindhearted boy who he loved to the multiverse and back loved him too. He said it, no doubt, no hesitation.

Was Kon in heaven, perhaps? He doubted that such a thing existed, after all their world was pretty complicated when it came to gods and goddesses and all that mythical stuff, but if it did, this would be it.

A late Afternoon on a beach with the boy he had loved for months finally telling him that he loved him too.

Kon didn’t even notice as Tims hand wandered from his cheek down to his neck, feeling his pulse.

“Are you seriously okay? Wait- Is that just because I said that I love you?”

“Uhm- Probably?”

“You’re an Idiot”

“Your Idiot, though”

Tim placed a small kiss on his lips, but pulled away immediately, so that it almost felt more like the most pleasant breeze Kon had ever experienced.

“Yes, my Idiot”

Gods he must be smiling like an absolute Idiot too.

From this position, he could see every little detail on Tims face. The few freckles he had on his nose, the eyeliner he had probably intended to wear but was now washed away to the point where only a bit of it remained in his waterline. There were a few first indicators of wrinkles there, for example on his forehead. Kon knew that it was from his super-serious thinking expression, or from when he was upset.

But he also had some smile lines, even if they were very few. Kon was proud to say that those were probably from the many times they’d goofed around, just the two of them or together with the rest of young justice.

Tims eyes were the most captivating of all. The blue made him question if he was really powered by the sun, because the moment he looked at it, he wanted to get lost at sea. His eye bags were way less prominent than they probably should be, considering that Tim really did not get enough sleep.

Well, that was a difficult topic. Tim would say that he did, because even though he only slept a few hours a night, he took a ‘power nap’ every time he had even the slightest chance to do so. Kon would say that he’s a sleep deprived little fuck that randomly passes out during the day because of how tired he is. They would probably never agree on who was right.

Either way, Tim barely had any eyebags. Kon wondered if he had put makeup on to look that way, but it didn’t seem like it. And trust, Kon had enough experience with concealers to know how it looked.

If that was makeup, he’d need to ask Tim for the products he was using because there was no creasing at all. Well, Tim was also kind of rich. So whatever he was using, Kon could probably never afford it.

“Why are you staring at my eyes like that”

“I’m trying to figure out your makeup routine dumbass”

“I literally only use eyeliner”

“Then please teach me your skincare routine the way you barely have any eyebags is insane”

“The fuck I don’t did you turn blind? Half my face is eyebags”

“Get some confidence love they are barely noticeable at all”

Suddenly, Tims heartbeat started going faster again.

Hah. Love had been a pretty good nickname choice, then.

“Oh fuck you that was mean”

“It worked”

They both laughed before practically falling into another kiss. Tims hand was still caressing Kons jaw while his other hand found its way down to his waist, steadily holding on to him.

Kons hand however was in Tims hair, holding on as if it was a lifeline and he was drowning.

This kiss was a bit different than the ones before. While it started as just a playful peck, it quickly turned more passionate. It took forever for the two of them to break apart for even a second, neither of them wanting to let go of the other.

The Kryptonians' other hand had wandered down a bit, now resting on Tims lower back.

After a second to give Tim time to breathe they went right back to kissing, lips meeting as if they had been made to fit together perfectly.

Suddenly, Tim pulled away. Kon was about to ask what was wrong, before he felt it. Slow kisses along the side of his neck, starting soft but losing that quality along the way, until Tim gave him a damn hickey on the spot where his neck met the shoulders.

The slight sting of pain was one of the best feelings Kon had ever experienced, Tims mouth sucking and softly biting his skin until he actually left a slightly reddish-mark behind, although it vanished only shortly after he’d pulled away to look at his work.

For a second, Kon wished that it would stay.

“Wow, didn’t expect that to work at all”

“Well, that’s probably because of me being partly human?”

Tim just shrugged his shoulders and went back to his new favourite activity: kissing Kon.

Eventually, the two of them finally let go of one another, Tim laying half on top of Kon while the blanket underneath the two of them was little more than a crumpled mess.

“Oh, by the way uhm- I know this is kind of a weird question, but, what are we?”

“Well, I love you”

“I love you too. And, if you want to, I’d love to be your boyfriend as well”

Tim replied with a little peck to his lips, grinning the most Tim-like grin that was full of mischief and joy.

“Anything you want, princess”

“Don’t make fun of me!”

“I’m not, it fits you”

“You’re insufferable.”

“What, you’d rather I call you an anxious little gay child instead?”

“Whatever”

They ended up staying until well past the sun had gone down. Tim had already let Jason know that he wasn’t going to be home in time for dinner, so they just enjoyed each others company until Kon got tired. Not wanting to worry anyone by staying there overnight, Kon first flew Tim home and then went home himself, falling asleep with the thought of Tims lips on his still fresh on his mind.

Chapter Text

They ended up staying until well past the sun had gone down. Tim had already let Jason know that he wasn’t going to be home in time for dinner, so they just enjoyed each other's company until Kon got tired. Not wanting to worry anyone by staying there overnight, Kon first flew Tim home and then went home himself, falling asleep with the thought of Tim's lips still fresh on his mind. It was already pretty late by the time Tim returned to Jason's apartment, and although he would’ve loved to stay home with him for a couple days more, being a newly-established drug lord wasn’t exactly the kind of business where he could afford just disappearing for a week or two. 

So, he made sure Tim could send him an emergency alarm at any second, and got into his red hood uniform. 

The moment he slipped on the helmet, he felt an overbearing weight drop onto his shoulders. It was like he had dreaded this exact moment for days, fearing the time where Jason would have to turn into Red hood again. 

But this wasn’t just some silly hobby. He was trying to clean up Gotham, to really change something. And disappearing after his little act on the skyscraper had really not been the best Idea, even though he loved the time that he got to spend with Tim. 

One last check on all the equipment later he was already out, back in crime alley and checking up on the business he had left unfinished. First of all was the usual routine, checking up on the guys he had working for him, making sure that everything was going well (and that no kids were involved, but he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have to worry about that too soon after the rooftop incident). 

Of course, there were a couple of problems. After all, he’d offered his dealers full protection from black mask and batman, which was a full-time job to maintain. 

Luckily, the bat didn’t choose to show his face that night. He wasn’t sure if he would be ready to confront him yet. Not after everything that had happened with Tim. 

The original plan: reveal his Identity and force him to kill the Joker. Fix what had gone wrong. Make him realize that letting kids get involved in the battlefield that was his life was messed up. Get the justice that Jason was owed by seeing the person he used to call dad to break his code, by probably breaking the whole concept of the batman and ending his useless way-too-weak vigilante justice. 

And Jason would’ve had no hesitation if this was only about him. He would’ve tortured Bruce with every single one of his failures a thousand times over, his own face being the biggest of them all. 

Because even though the lazarus pit had almost completely healed it, he still wore the Jokers J on his cheek the way so many of his other victims did. It didn’t mark him as Jason, it simply marked him as another victim of a madman that had filled half of the graveyards in all of Gotham. 

It marked the countless people that had been failed by the vigilante that had sworn to protect them. 

Batman had never realized that true Justice didn’t exist. He had made it his mission to restore it to Gotham without ever seeing the injustices the city dealt with. 

How could a boy from one of the richest families of the country ever understand the difference between a crime alley kid that had grown up to be a goon, trying to make enough money to stay off the streets that night, and the criminal insanity that they were following?

Bruce had been failed by a person who himself was failed himself, the system in place failing to catch him before he committed his crime. So, Batman's justice consisted of beating up villains and rogues alike, occasionally donating but never actually fixing the Issues that let his enemies run free again and again. Because every Arkham breakout the rogues just came back to their old circles, connections with others and strategies improved. 

Jason, however, had been failed by the system itself. Twice. Once, as a kid, wandering the streets of crime alley with a stomach so empty that he could’ve eaten the rubber right off the Batmobile's wheels. A second time when he was killed by a monster who, if Batman had truly brought him to justice, should’ve been sitting in Arkham with dozens of life sentences preventing him from ever breathing fresh air again. 

So his approach was a bit different. Because Arkham wasn’t reliable, and crimes didn’t go away if the criminals had broken spines. 

Joker was a product of all Batman's failures, and Jason was the result of those failures. 

Joker was all the violence Batman caused, the ever-escalating criminal energy due to Batman's ever-escalating technology and brutality. Jason was the people of Gotham who got caught in the crossfire of the fight. 

Red Hood was a mission to take it back. To put an end to the ever running cycle of corruption and jail breakouts. Because there was no way to save the plant without cutting off its rotten leaves. 

There wouldn’t be another dead kid, it’s life ripped away simply because Batman couldn’t get over himself and just realize the truth. That his methods had never been enough for a shithole like Gotham. 

So, he couldn’t fail. Couldn’t take a break. Not when there was so much on the line. 

He had almost been too late. Another Robin, life on the line, with Bruce nowhere in sight. 

But this time, Jason had been there. He’d stopped history from repeating itself. Now he just had to keep going, to not let go of his goal no matter how close he felt to collapsing under the weight of the rot that consumed Gotham in its entirety. 

The drug trade was slowly but surely coming under his control, and it was noticeable in the way black mask behaved. Red Hood had been completely unknown just weeks ago, undercutting the crime lord's plans from the shadows for as long as he could. But now, he already owned a good amount of the territory that had once belonged to black mask. 

But that was just his starting point. Regulate the drug trade, then he would try his best to do the same to the prostitution industry. And after all that was done, all that would be left was to return to being a vigilante. 

Sure, a different kind of vigilante. The kind who kills, the kind who makes sure the structures he’s set up for the criminal sectors of the city were upheld instead of punching it all into the ground. Because he knew that they could never be eradicated, they would just get resilient and more radical, until no justice in the world could control them anymore. 

So that was the only way to keep people safe. 

Control. 

At the end of his usual round, he sat down on the roof of one of the buildings in crime alley. It was high up enough to not be seen, but still he could watch what was going on below him. 

The drug dealers in the corner, the kids sleeping in a dark alleyway, the prostitutes searching for a safe place to do their work with their customers. Of course, once that was over, the customer would return to his car and drive off to another part of town, settle back in his bed and go to work the next day. All the while the person he had used for his entertainment would probably never see the kind of money that could buy a car like that, a bed that didn’t smell of smoke and alcohol, could never afford to even imagine returning to normal life. 

Because the drug dealers and prostitutes that now avoided looking at the kids sleeping right beside them had once clawed at their clothes and shivered on the very same dirt-covered floors. 

And Jason was the only one who dared to try and put an end to it. 

Yet the pressure was slowly getting to him. It had always been a lot. He felt like he’d been overwhelmed ever since he woke up in that coffin, never truly having been able to take a breath since then. Because there was no stopping, he had to train, to get revenge, to restore justice. 

He hadn’t stopped for a moment ever since then, always just fighting. Fighting his way through the dirt crashing in on him, through the league, through Gotham's drug trade. There had never been a question about it, that was the way he needed to go. 

Still, now on that rooftop, it felt like everything around him was slowly crashing in on him. Like he couldn’t move another muscle as long as he was wearing the helmet, as if it was cutting off all his air and leaving him to suffocate. 

The fear sat in rather slowly, crawling through his body as if it was an ant searching for a way out. But it didn’t just leave once it reached his arms or feet, and he couldn’t swat it away either. It had been crawling on him for weeks, months now, and only now did he notice how much of him it had actually consumed. 

He used to love his plan, wanting to dedicate his entire life to it. And now that he was finally here, everything going well and every second of his day (until recently) planned out to better fulfill his duties, he couldn’t help but want out again. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t still want to follow through on his plan. But it was also suffocating him, and goddamn Jason hated the feeling of that. Ever since he had been in that grave, 6 feet of dirt cutting him off from the foul Gotham air, the feeling had started to haunt him. Fear had become the inability to breathe. 

Which was just another reason to never feel fear. To never feel anything, really. 

Because fear made his airways close, sadness made his fingers feel stiff and pain related to the ones he loved made his autopsy scar ache. 

He had truly come back broken. Rigor mortis still caused him to have trouble moving when he got too cold, and it came with such an unbearable pain that Jason often just had to lay down and wait until it was finally over. 

In fact, there hadn’t been a second of no-pain since he’d come back. It was either the aches of his scars still haunting him or the dull pain of his muscles trying to go stiff just as he was using them, but it had never fully stopped. 

Sure, he could manage it. Make sure that his suit was warm enough, take painkillers with him everywhere he went. But he’d never be able to just go out in a t-shirt and shorts again, because he’d be doubled over in pain the moment it’d start to rain. 

Funny, huh? A crime lord that couldn’t even handle living in his own body. He’d sworn to never take any painkillers stronger than Ibuprofen after his mother lived and died her life with narcotics rushing through her body. But now even that had been taken from him, because without them he wouldn’t be able to really live at all. 

Jason took off his helmet, hoping that the dread that was filling him would disappear once he was able to breathe without a bomb right on his head. But it didn’t go away, and neither did the sinking realization of how pathetic he had become. 

He’d once been Robin, a magical symbol of hope. 

Now he was a shell of his former self, mourning the life he could’ve had because the second chance he had been given was more torture than anything else. 

He was finished with what he’d wanted to do tonight anyway. So, Jason went home, hoping to find relief at his apartment, where Tim was probably still up. 

The kid needed a fucking sleep schedule. But considering that he’d been asking Jason to buy some of his favourite energy drinks multiple times in just 2 days (‘I only drink coffee because I still need caffeine’) he could probably be happy that Tim was sleeping at all. 

The relief he was searching for never truly came, the weight on his shoulders only temporarily losing a few pounds. 

Chapter Text

After patrol, Dick was sitting in front of the Batcomputer, looking at the documentation on the undercover case Tim was on. It’d become a habit to track everything when he wouldn’t see his little brother for a while. 

Maybe that was just because the little 15 year old boy at the edge of his vision had never once stopped taunting him about how he’d failed him. How if he had been there, he’d be so much older now. 

18. He’d be 18. A full adult. Instead his brother was stuck at 15, forced to be a child forever. 

The little boy in the Robin suit hadn’t left ever since Dick learned about his death. The moment that the real Jason was six feet under, Dicks mind had decided to bring him back in the most tortuous way. 

“He’s 15 too, just like me!” 

“Yeah, you’d have loved him” 

“Promise to not be late again? You were too late for me”

“I know” Dick replied, tears blurring his vision. He had already taken the pills he was prescribed, the ones that should make Jason finally go rest in his grave. But they’d barely ever done anything. If anything, they just made him so confused and helpless. 

Tim had left his message on read for a day now. Of course, it had been stupid to ask that. He’d known that Tim would be away. But laying there at night, alone in his bed, with Jason once again taunting him for not being there, he’d just wanted to do it right this time. 

He knew that Tim was keeping his distance on purpose. After all, Dick hadn’t exactly been welcoming when he first picked up the Robin mantle. 

Because there he was, 14 and a few inches taller than Jason had been, in the same suit that haunted him every single night. The same mantle that had gotten little wing killed, the mantle he had created in the first place. 

Beside him was Jason, beaten and broken. He didn’t usually see him that way. But at that moment, he took it as a sign. 

Robin was a curse, and he was going to kill another kid. Another innocent boy would die simply because he had to play hero all those years ago. 

So at first, he’d tried to get rid of Tim. Not because the kid wasn’t absolutely adorable, or because he wasn’t an amazing Robin, smarter than he could’ve ever been. But because every time he looked at him his vision started to flicker, and just for a moment, he could see a freshly cut J on Tim's cheek. 

When that didn’t work, he started to keep track of him. Not full on stalking, but he looked after him. Made sure that if he was on a particularly dangerous mission, he wasn’t too far away. 

He’d never yelled at Bruce so much as when he did when he found out that Tim had gone out alone. It was Batman's responsibility to protect his Robins. 

Behind the large figure of Bruce, he could see Jason on the desk of the batcomputer, swinging his feet and smiling. But that smile quickly grew sinister, distorting into the same manic laugh that the Joker wore. 

That night, he’d gone out to finally make sure that Tim would be safe. But for the first time in years, Bruce decided to follow him. Revive the Joker. Because Dick wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt. 

Dick was already unable to live with his guilt, but not from killing the Joker. No, he was haunted by the little boy that’d been killed by that grotesque clown. He was everywhere, no matter how far away he went, the little brother he had never wanted and still loved more than he ever thought he could love anyone followed him there. 

Dinah had said to stop talking to him and take his meds instead. 

But how could he ignore the little boy that had died before Dick could ever tell him that he had been wrong to ignore him, that he loved him the way only older siblings could?

He’d been trying to change things with Tim, be the brother he never got the chance to really be for Jason. 

“You did have the chance, Dickie. You were just mad about Bruce making me Robin instead .”

~~~

While looking over the mission, Dick started finding more and more inconsistencies. By the time he reached the end of the available information, none of it really made that much sense anymore. Sure, it wasn’t completely bullshit, but there were so many things that just did not add up. 

And this was made by Tim, after all. The boy who meticulously documented every single detail, made sure each and every one of his reports was precise and on point (Well, except for the Young Justice reports. Those were… something else).

It could be because this seemed to be a mission that he went on with Kon, listing the other members of Young Justice as potential backup. But the problem wasn’t the precision or messiness like it’d be if it was a team report. 

The case just barely had evidence. Why would Tim go undercover for a case that barely seemed to exist in the first place? 

“Or he went out on his own and didn’t want Bruce to know. Like I did. Remember that Dickie?” 

Yeah, he remembered. In fact, he had spent the last three years remembering. Combing through every detail, wishing it had gone differently. 

Over time, the voice of his hallucination started sounding just slightly off, reminding him that he now couldn’t recall how exactly Jason had sounded in the first place. 

He hadn’t celebrated his birthdays since then. Those days were dedicated to sitting in his bedroom, staring at the mirror, watching as he grew older while Jason always remained the same. 

Jason would turn 18 soon. The first birthday that Dick skipped, because Jason wouldn’t be there to celebrate it with him. 

He was 20 now and he had long moved out of the manor, becoming his own superhero in Blüd. But still he returned here as often as he could, because the thought of being just one city away while another Robin died was too much to bear. 

And now, something was definitely off about Tim. 

This time he wouldn’t be too late. That was what he’d promised Jason once he got to his grave after learning about his death. 

No more dead Robins, even if at the time, he’d meant that the mantle was supposed to rest with him. 

It was the first time that Dick truly accepted that Robin belonged to Jason just as much as it’d once belonged to him. Because it wasn’t just a nickname his mother had given him anymore, it was a failed sign of hope for a doomed city, and it had taken both of them down to the grave with it. 

Except only one of them got the chance to actually rest, to hopefully find peace in his unjust death. Meanwhile Dick was busy doing everything to somehow show his brother that it hadn’t been for nothing, that his life, however short it had been, left Gotham a better place than it had been before. 

But the cycle had just repeated itself. Batman grew more violent and the criminals did too, until eventually another Robin stepped in. 

And now that one was gone too. 

“Don’t bother Dick, you’re too late. You always have been” 

~~~

One Oracle-tracking later, he was on the way to wherever-the-fuck Tims phone was. Some shady part of Gotham near crime alley. Hopefully, if the phone was still alive, it meant that Tim was too. The entire way over was filled with mocking comments from Jason, but Dick had grown used to it. 

He once tried to blend it out with music, but in the end, he found that the only thing that truly made him go away was a handful of those pills swallowed down with a good sip of whatever spirit he had on hand. 

Don’t ask him how he found that one out. But it was the only way to free him from Jason's haunting smile, his ever lasting hope that still grinned at him through the hallucinations. Because the last time he’d seen that smile was in a casket, and his hope had died the day he found out about the news. 

All his hallucinations had to offer him were empty promises of something that was long dead and rotten, and while usually he still kept them around just to be able to pretend that it was something more, sometimes it was just too much. 

“What do you think my identity would be if I ever stop being Robin?” 

Oh, how many times Jason had asked him that now. And every time without fail Dick wanted to cry, because it reminded him of just how unfair it was. He got to live, got to build a life outside of the mantle. But Jason would forever be trapped in it despite not even having created it himself. 

Jason never got to build an Identity of his own. He had simply inherited Dicks only to then die in it. 

Finally, he got to where the phone was located. It looked like it was in one of the apartments in the building he was standing in front of. Luckily, Oracle had by some miracle found out how high it was above ground level, so Dick knew which door to kick in. 

If he found another dead Robin in that building he would jump right off that roof. Maybe then the curse would finally die with him.

Maybe he could finally let Jason rest. 

It wasn’t easy to just burst open the door, and the moment he finally did, some sort of alarm went off. But that didn’t matter. Tim. He had to find Tim. 

Dick ran around frantically, not hearing anything besides Jason's voice. Until suddenly, he was stopped by an arm grabbing him only to find a gun pressed to his temple not even a second after. 

“What business do you have breaking into my home, Nightwing.” 

Suddenly, the constant bickering of Jason stopped. Must be the adrenaline. 

And that voice seemed… familiar. Perhaps he’d fought this person before? He couldn’t really see who it was, but still-

Didn’t matter. He could shoot him if he wanted to. He just had to find Tim first. 

Abruptly he turned around, landing one hit to the guy's face before quickly turning around and continuing his search. It didn’t take him long before he saw Tim's face, and thank god he looked alive, alive, alive . 

Dick rushed over to Tim who was sitting on the couch, some yarn shit in his hands. Crochet, not knit. He’d told Dick a hundred times until he finally managed to remember. 

No wounds, no apparent sign of anything wrong. But why the fuck was he here? Just crocheting on the couch of a random guy? 

He wanted to ask, but in his relief he couldn’t bring out a single word, only helplessly wrap his arms around Tim as if he hadn’t seen the boy in years. 

Until he heard something click, and suddenly he felt what was very clearly a gun pressed up to his back. 

“Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here.” The figure behind him paused after each word, getting more aggressive as he went on. 

Again, Dick just really couldn’t be bothered with the gun. What did he have to live for if he failed at defending Tim now? 

So he turned around quickly, grabbing the barrel of the gun and holding it up to the ceiling in case the man would still try to shoot. And suddenly, he wanted to laugh. Because this mysterious figure looked so much like Jason used to with his domino mask. 

It made sense now. Tim had simply run away for a couple of days to get away from Bruce. There was no one else here. It was just another hallucination, and a really silly one at that. He must really be going insane if that was what his brain chose to imagine. 

Dick started laughing, because how could he not? The scene before him was so utterly ridiculous, he couldn’t have come up with it in his wildest dreams. Except, it seemed like he did. 

Good one, brain. We’re really making progress on the whole grief thing now, huh? 

“Dick what the fuck-” 

“Oh sorry Tim, just another hallucination- I’m guessing you’re just taking time off from Bruce? Yeah he can be really annoying… Make sure to eat well okay? And text me sometime!” With that ramble he decided to leave, heading straight for the door.

Well, he was, until the damn hallucination grabbed him again . He was really growing tired of this shit now. Could his brain stop making him think that he couldn’t move and just let him go home?  

Seemed like he really needed another one of those special alc-pill mixes tonight, holy hell. 

“Stop - Dickface - Fucking hell I’m not just letting you walk out of here what the fuck?” 

Dick however was not going to be stopped by himself that easily. Only when he found himself in a grip so tight that he really could not escape did he stop for a second. 

“Yes, what is it now? Any more gun pointing? I know I should be dead instead of you but really, this is worse than when you first died” 

“What?” 

“Oh my God are you stupid? We’ve been over this a million times Jason, now just let me get home and take the damn pills I’ve had enough of you today” 

But Jason just stared back at him with an even more confused expression. 

“Dick I- what are you talking about?” 

“Am I really going to have to explain to my hallucination that he’s a hallucination? Oh Dinah's gonna hate this-” 

“Hallucination?- You think I’m not real?” 

“Yes great job sherlock, time to go have an existential crisis over it. Now can I please just-” 

Suddenly, Dick heard Tim's voice coming from a few meters away from where he was standing. 

“He’s real Dick, I can see him too” 

Chapter Text

For a brief moment, it felt like Jason had never died after all. Here Dick was, back to bickering with him just as he used to all that time ago.

But Jason had grown, and although he forgot that it wasn’t true for a moment, looking down on the brother he had always looked up to reminded him of that.

The golden child, the perfect boy, the monument of greatness that Jason could never even dream to get close to, now standing in front of him going on about hallucinations and whatnot.

Not so great and perfect now, huh Dickie?

It took a while for it to hit him that not only was his brother (brother? But he wasn’t Bruce’s- Whatever.) thinking that he was a hallucination, but it wasn’t the first time that he was hallucinating Jason.

Dick had been hallucinating him, but since when? Since…

Right. The last time they’d seen each other was before that space mission.

”If you die out in fucking space I’ll kill you, dickface”

Dick had smirked, brushing his concern off with a shrug of his shoulders. He’d never seemed worried about getting hurt, almost risking it willingly if it meant that everyone else was safe. Jason had always admired that about him, how he’d rather take the punch himself than let another person take it.

“Good luck with that kid”

They’d been on… okay terms. It had started awfully, and Jason still wasn’t sure what he had done for Dick to hate him this badly at the beginning. But seemingly, he had fixed it somehow. So over the last few weeks, they’d started to be more tolerant towards one another.

If Jason would imagine what having a big brother felt like, he’d probably imagine Dick. Sure, they fought. But they also laughed. Maybe they’d be like actual siblings one day, and he’d tell his friends about how Dick, the legend of the hero community, had once let his friends draw on his hands and had come home with Dicks all over his arms as a result.

Hesitantly, he made a step closer towards him, trying to gauge if initiating a hug was too much. Jason wasn’t much of a physical-touch person, but it just felt right at the moment. Still, he was too scared of rejection to do anything more than wait and hope.

But Dick didn’t act further on it, turning around and leaving for his mission.

He wondered if Dick ever noticed what he’d been trying to do that day. He wondered if Dick had ever looked back on that conversation and regretted not saying more. If he had pondered the ironic nature of Jason being scared of him dying.

Jason wasn’t even sure if Dick remembered all of that. It had seemed so insignificant at the time. Just another mission, nothing big. Nothing tragic.

He had looked up news reports on his funeral.

At the time he was angry when he saw that Dick hadn’t been there. Was he misinterpreting things, had Dick seen him as such a stranger that he didn’t even consider him dying significant enough to come back and attend the funeral?

Until Tim had said that thing about Dick killing the Joker. And suddenly Jason's view of the boy he had once wished to call brother shifted once again.

Maybe he hadn’t known. Surely, Bruce’s tech would’ve alerted him immediately, that couldn’t have failed.

But he couldn’t receive info about it if no one was sending it to him. Considering all of Jason's hatred towards Bruce, he felt like maybe his thought process was a bit biased. Yet still, the only thing that made sense to him was the possibility that B considered it more important for Dick to complete the mission than telling him about his death.

At least that theory supported this little knot of hope that he’d been keeping. The hope that maybe, just maybe, he did truly once have a brother. A brother who had cared, who had loved him, even if that love would long be gone by the time that he’d reveal his identity to him.

The last time they had seen each other, Jason believed in happy endings. He was sure that every fight they had, they’d win, even if the Rogue escaped that time. Because good guys get good lives.

Now he stood in front of the first boy wonder, the man who had been nothing but good and had grown up to be happy, thinking about the fact that if he had listened to Bruce, if he had been like Dick, he’d be laughing with him at an inside joke instead of trying not to cry after not having seen him in years.

And for the first time ever, his perception of Dick cracked. Because hallucinating Jason didn’t exactly sound like he’d been all that happy. And killing the Joker wasn’t good either.

“Jay?” Dick stuttered, tears streaming down his face and his voice breaking halfway through, as if merely uttering his name was already too much. And yet it sounded so hopeful, almost pleading. Begging for him to really be him, for him to be the little wing that Dick had taught how to fly.

But Jason had changed. And though he wanted to be that little boy, to fall into Dicks arms and hold on until he felt like he wasn’t freezing for once, that wasn’t him. Acting like it now would only give both of them false hope.

Because he was a crime lord now. The red hood. The better Batman. The guy that killed and made a living off the drug trade.

A rogue, a crime lord. A danger to society, someone Bruce would lock up in Arkham the second he’d get the chance to. Which was exactly why he couldn’t let that happen.

He stepped away, the small distance that stretched between them reminding him of the same small step he had taken all those years ago.

“I’m the Red Hood, Dick”

“I don’t care, please- Jay is it you? Really you?”

“Go back to the cave”

He turned his back, slowly walking back towards Tim before stopping once again.

“Please Jay come back- come back don’t-”

From the sound of his voice, Dick was absolutely sobbing and begging. But there was so much between them now.

Jay.

A name for a 15 year old who still believed that people could be good, that Rogues were just the nightmares of crime alley come to life. And in a way, he had been right.

That kid was who Dick wanted back, who his sobs, screams and pleads were for. But if Jason knew anything about himself, it was that the person he had been after coming back no longer had anything to do with his former self.

No one could ever truly come back. Death wasn’t a merciful creature, returning souls out of the kindness of its heart. It had kept him, keeping the Jason he’d been while sending a broken copy in his place.

He wasn’t Jay, and the moment Dick realised that, he’d go running to Bruce again. Tell him that a crime lord was keeping Tim hostage. Make Tim go back to that godforsaken lonely Manor. Because although Bruce would be worried about him, nothing would change.

Nothing would ever change. He died, and everything seemed like before. If anything, Tim had been treated worse. Going out on the field without training, being able to go on solo-missions without anyone questioning it even a little bit.

So he stayed there, waiting for Dick to stop, for his begging and sobs to slowly turn into silent tears until he finally got up. For a second, Jason thought that he’d walked away, until he heard footsteps getting closer and closer to him.

For just a second, he froze up completely, not knowing what to do. How to react. Dick was supposed to accept his reaction, to leave and move on. Was he going to kill him? Bring him to Arkham? Take Tim away from him?

He couldn’t let that happen. Sure, a few days ago he wouldn’t have minded that much. In fact, he almost expected it to happen at one point. But he had Tim now, and he wanted to keep him. Take care of him. Be there for him. And he couldn’t do that if Dick decided that he was a threat now.

Suddenly, he felt something fall against him from behind. A body. Dicks body. Against him. Hugging him. An attempt at it, at least. Wait, how did he know that this wasn’t just him pretending so that he could get past Jason's defenses?

Quickly, he turned around to face Dick, checking if there were any weapons in his hands or if he was trying to reach for them. Nothing. Everything about him was non-threatening, as if he really was just trying to hug Jason.

But why would he? It was so painfully obvious that Jason was no longer the little boy that he had lost. Why would he hang on so desperately to something he didn’t even truly want?

“I’m not leaving this time”

The callback to the last time they’d seen each other, the pain of having thought that Dick wouldn’t have even cared enough to remember, the urge to just finally let him in overwhelmed Jason, bringing tears to his eyes.

He sure was crying a lot nowadays.

Dick was still crying into the chestplate of his armor, not even fully standing but rather holding onto Jason to keep himself up as if he was a lifeline, the only thing that could save him from his own mind.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Jay-”

Jason still kind of wanted to run, to kick Dick out of his apartment and ignore everything that had happened. But even if everything in him screamed to flee for the sake of his own emotional stability, there was one reason to stay right there.

Tim, who was still sitting behind him. Tim, who Dick had come to take away.

The only way to keep him without having to deal with the Bat storming his apartment now was to convince Dick that he was a good caretaker for Tim, that he needed to stay here to be okay.

Even then, who knew what Dick would want. He could just as well decide that he wanted Tim at the Manor, even if it wasn’t in his best interest. Hell, Jason wasn’t even legally a person, in the worst case scenario he couldn’t even try to adopt him. Technically, Dick could claim to act in the interests of Tim's biological parents.

It was all a mess, but one thing was for sure. If he didn’t get into Dickies good graces, he was fucked for sure. At the very least, he needed to find out how they’d been found in the first place.

And goddamn he didn’t want to have to start relying on the league of assassins again in order to flee with Tim. Also, the kid had just started dating Kon, that would get really difficult if they had to go undercover-

Slowly, he lifted one arm, carefully wrapping it around Dick, supporting his weight while he was at it. The vigilante hadn’t grown since the last time they’d seen each other, but Jason certainly had. Because even now that Dick was almost standing normally again, he was still probably around 5 inches shorter than him now.

“Dick?”

Finally, the flow of apologies and are-you-real-omg-you’re-reals stopped for a second, interrupted by a quiet and shaky “Yes?”

And for the moment, Jason decided that being honest was probably the only way to resolve this, to get out of this without losing the kid he already loved more than his own freedom.

“I missed you” he brought out, interrupted by a sob he immediately tried to choke down again in the middle. Because it was true, and it was more than he’d ever even dared to admit to himself thus far.

Maybe because it meant acknowledging that somewhere in him, the little boy who had once been Robin was still alive, still yearning for a hug from the brother he had always wished for.

But admitting that meant confronting himself. Looking in the mirror and acknowledging that he wasn’t simply in the wrong body, but that things had changed. That all the damage he had taken, the chronic pain and the everlasting stiffness were real, that they were happening to him. That he’d have to live with himself and with this body for the rest of his life.

So the words rang hollow, spoken with truth but no conviction behind them. Yet Dick didn’t care, only hugging him even tighter.

“I missed you more, little wing”

They remained in that position for a while as Dick slowly regained his composure, although still breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon.

“What happened? How’d you come back?”

Jason paused, looking down on the blue-black vigilante. Was he ready to talk about that? To potentially reveal to Batman all that had been going on behind his back?

But if anyone was an expert in defying Bruce, it was his kids. Dick might’ve never been able to lie to the man, but he was surely an expert at hiding, dancing around questions until he escaped the labyrinth of B's interrogations.

“You can’t tell B. Not that I’m back. Not anything.”

“Why? Jay he’s missed you so much, I’m sure-”

“No.”

“Okay– Okay. Just please don’t leave right now. Stay. Let me stay.”

He could do that. Even if it’d hurt, even if he wasn’t sure how to act around Dick now, how they would behave together after all that time. He could stay, for once.

After all, he’d already done so. After moving around Gotham and the League, never feeling truly at home, he’d found a random kid on a roof and taken him to his apartment. His apartment, which in the last few days had finally started to feel like home.

Jason wouldn’t question more about Dicks hallucinations, as long as he didn’t ask about how he got back either. It was a silent, mutual agreement that those conversations could wait.

That they had time now, time they both had believed to be forever taken from them. Time they could never rely on, but hope for. Hope that had somehow, in this cruel world that never gave anything, came true.

And the cost would hit them eventually, but right now, they could ignore that. Ignore the years that had passed, the distance that stretched uncomfortably between the two of them. Finally, it was time to take a step back and breathe.

Enjoy the hug that Jason had never gotten, but always wished for.

Enjoy the brother that he had never gotten, but still silently wished for.

They didn’t talk much, Dick seemingly not being able to bring out another word after what had just happened. So soon enough the three of them went to bed, Jason in his own bedroom, Tim in his and Dick still in his Nightwing suit on the couch.

Chapter Text

Tim felt like decor. No, not even that. More like a wall. He wasn’t an accessory in this, not relevant even in the slightest. He was the background of the scene, the blank space no one spent a second thought on. 

But it was okay, really. It was a feeling he was used to, only ever being allowed to exist in the background. As a kid of the Drake family he wasn’t supposed to be seen nor heard unless his presence added something valuable to the occasion. Which, more often than anything, it didn’t. At least in the eyes of his parents. 

He had never really minded it. But he minded being dead even less. 

Between Jason and Dick, there remained no space for him. No tiny corner for him to fit into, no wallpaper to disguise himself as. He stood out like a sore thumb, ruining a perfectly good background. 

While watching the two of them, one thing had become very clear to Tim. 

He’d been even less of a brother to Dick than he’d ever realized. Sure, he didn’t really consider himself much, the half-adopted kid of a man who needed a parent more than he needed a kid. But seeing Dick care so desperately, falling apart completely the moment he realized that Jason was truly back? 

While he was sitting in the background, his cuts were still stinging and the smell up on the roof was still fresh on his mind. 

Dick had lost one brother, but he had never lost a second one, even if he was dead. No matter how not-alive he was, whether physically or mentally, Dick could only ever lose one brother. He’d never mourn him like he’d had for Jason, not break down crying at the sight of his reappearance. 

Who would? 

B would probably go to his grave, accidentally call him Jason and then turn away in shame, never visiting again. Because the world had stopped spinning after Jason had hurt, and he’d just been there to keep everything from collapsing until he could return, putting everything back to how it should be. 

How could Dick or Bruce mourn him when the one they had really wanted all along was back now? Why mourn the replacement when it means that you’ve got the real thing back? 

So he decided to leave. Only take the things he’d need to ensure that he wouldn’t be found, that his plan would work this time. This time he left his phone and went out after patrol times, right before the first few rays of sunshine passed through the cloudy Gotham sky. 

He wished that he could call Kon, be whisked away in his arms and return to safety. But it wouldn’t be fair. Not fair to Jason, to Dick, to Bruce or even to him. He couldn’t keep pretending to be more than he was. An empty, broken shell of a human, unable to ever be useful again. 

Tim didn’t deserve help, he didn’t need it. Although he now so desperately, achingly wanted it. 

Just one word, one name, and this would be over. He’d be with Kon. 

One word that would declare him the biggest attention seeker of all time, deeming him unfit to be on his own. To be a hero. 

One word, and he’d have to explain everything to Kon. And even worse, to Jason . He’d have to explain that all he’d done for Tim was useless, that he was simply unrepairable, a lost case. That Tim still wanted to die even though he’d gotten everything he could’ve ever wanted, because nothing would ever be enough. 

He was insatiable, always yearning for more as if the next hug would plaster up the cracks in his soul, as if the next bittersweet promise of love would ease the ever-lasting ache in his heart. 

And absolutely nothing could ever fix that. It didn’t matter how much they cared because it’d never be enough to repair the damage he’d taken. 

Really, who would want him if they realized that? If they realized that a button to call for emergencies wouldn’t fix the fact that he wanted to make himself bleed, would he still look at Tim like that? 

Would he still care when he realized that his care was nothing more than a thin plaster on a stab wound? 

And really, how could he bother Kon with this. How could he call upon him knowing that in five minutes he’d be back to fighting for his freedom, wanting to be alone so that he could secretly follow through with his plan. 

Tim remembered how he’d acted in the past. When his brain was buzzing with voices, his limbs aching as if the mental pain alone wasn’t punishment enough. When he couldn’t quiet them down because the bottle of whiskey had run out, and his blade felt so damn dull. When all he wanted to do was to quiet them down, to get a break for once. 

It wasn’t a nice look. In those moments, he’d have done anything. Anything no matter how dangerous, because the alternative was killing himself. 

Today, he’d decided to take the other way. To not go to the next corner store and beg for a carton of cigarettes, despite the father he was buying them for not having been in town for a whole month. To not take the next bottle of high-percent alcohol and drink until he couldn’t remember why he had done so anymore. 

It wasn’t like he’d ever really used up much of either. One cigarette was usually already enough to get him coughing, and a few sips could pull him into another world entirely. 

But today, Tim Drake didn’t want to be desperate anymore. He wouldn’t beg for anything, whether that was affection or substances. He would simply do what had been his duty all along. 

The Gotham air greeted him as if he was a lost son, blowing through his hair and cutting through his skin with its sharp, cold nature. He’d always loved the feeling. It was a silly way to cope, but sometimes going out without the jacket necessary was already enough. 

Although it was an even better feeling when he wasn’t all that sober. 

He wasn’t addicted to anything he’d taken. Tim preferred being able to think normally, his sharp mind being the only thing he really valued about himself. Until that sharpness turned on him, driving its blade into his own skin until all he could see, all he could think was pain. That was the time to turn it off. It was simply an efficiency thing, no big deal. 

He wasn’t ‘addicted’ to caffeine either. Yes, he drank up to three energy drinks a day. Sometimes that was all the breakfast his stomach could tolerate. But he did it with a goal in mind. Cases needed to be solved, and he could sleep later. These were human lives they were talking about, after all. 

The mission. The goal he’d taken on together with the Robin mantle. And if it meant he’d take naps throughout the day while staying up at night, what could really be so bad about that?

The mission he had failed to complete. He’d failed as a Robin. Yet another reason to keep going, to keep walking until he was just out of sight. 

One last time, he pulled on the Robin mantle. It’d be easier to move forward if he could use the equipment still stored in it, and of course he’d turned off any trackers that could be on it before he had even ran away in the first place. 

This was what solidified his decision as final. Because Robin couldn’t be sighted if he was on an undercover mission. So before any of the other vigilantes would pick up on that, he had to already be gone. 

Gone for good this time. 

The suit felt just slightly unfamiliar, like an old friend that he hadn’t talked to in a while just to realize that too much had happened in his life to reconnect with them. But still, it felt good in a strange way. 

One last time, Tim's Robin swung across Gotham's night sky, free from the dread that awaited him down on the floor. 

Shortly before reaching Drake Manor, he took off the suit and walked up to the entrance. Of course, he’d avoided any cameras on the way as best as possible, although he doubted that Barbara would have hacked into them. He’d given her no reason to. 

The plan itself was easy. Weigh himself, calculate the amount of painkillers needed to end it and take them. Straightforward. Failsafe. No other people, no variables. 

He would never leave the Manor again. The first step inside, closing the door behind him, and that was it. Tim Drake was officially done with the outside world, only existing in his own little universe from now on. It was too late to call for help, to reach out and try to redeem what he was trying to do. 

Why would he even need help if nothing had actually happened yet? 

It was too early and also too late. Too early to be saved and too late to deserve being saved. 

Still, he couldn’t go through with his plan right away. One last time, he walked through the halls of the manor, every step he took echoing right back to him. And although he had hated it for most of his life, had despised the emptiness and loneliness haunting every room, it felt comforting now. Even if it was a kind of strange-off putting kind of comfort, it felt like he was truly at home. 

Like they were welcoming him one last time, the ever-lasting emptiness giving him the space to die in her arms. 

Tim wanted to die in his room. It had been his sanctuary for most of his life, welcoming him when the strange unfamiliarity of the Manor overwhelmed him. Because even though he’d spent months upon years in this place, he still remained a stranger to so many secrets the building must hold. 

The scale he needed was in his bathroom. Clean and sterile, as if it had never been used at all. Wiped down again and again, as his blood continued to fall onto the pristine-white tiles on the floor, lightly sprinkling everything in sight. 

Or at least, he’d always wiped everything down, not wanting to risk a single drop being overlooked. As if anyone would’ve cared to look in the first place. 

Slowly, he pulled it forward from under the sink, staring at it for way too long before finally stepping on it. 

Another first step, another first that would soon be his last. 

*

The numbers quickly climbed, and so did the fear inside of him. That it was too little, too much, everything he wasn’t supposed to be. 

If Bruce had seen this he’d have benched him until he gained the weight back. His head said that he needed to keep going, see these pounds drop further until he would finally be small enough. 

Small enough to be noticed. Maybe, if he was just a bit thinner, the rocks in his pockets wouldn’t suffice anymore. Maybe, someone would notice. Acknowledge it. 

Maybe he’d finally deserve the help he was looking for so desperately. 

*

But all that didn’t matter right now. Yes, he wanted to cry, to break down right here and sob himself pretty, but he didn’t have time. He’d taken enough when walking around the Manor once again, he needed to act now before his disappearance (or appearance as Robin) got noticed. 

Not being noticed shouldn’t be so hard after all. 

Tim went to the medicine shelf where he found a mix of different painkillers. He took whatever, hoping that they all had a somewhat-sufficient amount of paracetamol. It was too much to look it all up now, he just wanted to finally do it . To finally make the turmoil in his head stop, to finally not think for once. Tim Drake, known for his smartness, was tortured by the mere process of thinking . 

He was underweight, and 24g was the minimum for an average adult. He could probably get away with taking just a bit less than that. The pills he’d gotten were sometimes 1g, sometimes 500mg. He’d just try to mix and match, somehow.

Looking in the fridge, he found that there was still one half-liter can of his favourite energy drink left. Might as well have fun one last time, right? 

Once he was in his room, he sat down on the bed, laying the pills out in groups of five on his nightstand. That was probably the most he could swallow at a time. 

And even though he’d felt this overwhelming sense of urgency earlier, even though he’d wanted to be gone as fast as possible, Tim paused now. Stared at the pills. 

His stream of thoughts didn’t stop or slow down, but it got more quiet. Almost like some peace was finally setting in now. 

It felt like a sign. That the only peace he would ever get would be in death or right before. 

This felt different to his last attempt. Because hell, Tim knew that there were people who loved him. That Kon would miss him terribly, that Jason even though he had a better brother now would still be sad for a bit. 

But sitting here now for a second time made him realize something. 

Who or how many loved him didn’t matter. Not as long as he didn’t love living . No matter how much they tried to comfort him, how desperately they tried to fix him, he’d always be the same broken boy, wanting to leave this world at the slightest inconvenience. 

Yes, Kon loved him. Jason… liked Dick more, but he still probably somewhat cared. And Yes, Tim loved them both with all his heart. He would die for both of them. 

But he couldn’t live for them. 

Still, he felt like he owed them something. Neither deserved him just up and leaving without a word. 

Especially not Kon. Kon, who he loved so much that it made his heart hurt, who he almost could’ve imagined a future with. 

But that was all irrelevant now anyway. What’s done is done, right? 

Letters felt too artificial. They probably wouldn’t be found until he was either, and fuck knew when that’d be. On top of that, anyone could read them. 

So, a delayed text message. One hour from now should be fine. 

It hurt. It hurt so damn much. Saying goodbye without a response, writing down empty phrases along with heartfelt ones because maybe that could fix what he was about to do. Apologising for something he hadn’t even done yet, knowing that it was so utterly meaningless, because why apologise if he was going to do it anyway? 

Tim didn’t want to say goodbye. But he did, writing out all that he felt and all that he thought would help Jason and Kon move on. Holding back on how much he didn’ t really want this and instead explaining how it was always going to end this way. 

Hollow, meaningless, and everything he had never been brave enough to say. 

Even though he felt like crying, wanting desperately to let his feelings fall from his eyes instead of having to experience them himself, he couldn’t. It all just felt so meaningless. So numb. 

The reason he had even done this was long gone, lost somewhere along the way with the little hope he’d had that someone could still notice and save him. There was no escape for him, no hero to sweep him up in his arms and carry him away from danger. 

There was no reason. No cause, no trigger. It was just him . 

Faintly, Tim remembered that he’d left because of something with Dick and Jason. It felt so silly now, so normal . Hopefully they wouldn’t feel bad. 

No one should have to feel bad. After all, it was his fault. 

Tim was going to die, and the only one responsible for that was Tim. Not Jason, not Kon, not Bruce or his parents or anyone else. Just him, sitting on his bed with all the blame beside him. They’d die together, and it’d finally be over. No more guilt, no more fighting. 

It’d end with him. 

Finally he opened up the can and took the first five pills in hand. It was hard. Hesitation stretched out the moment, making it last forever, as if he was living all of the life he’d been supposed to have in those few, short moments. 

With shaking hands, he reached up to place the painkillers in his mouth, choking them down with the energy drink. Suddenly it felt like he was taking pills for the first time, not being able to swallow them properly and spilling half of his drink on his shirt. 

It wouldn’t matter soon anyway. 

The next 5 went more quickly. He barely hesitated anymore, throwing them into his mouth as if they were candy. But swallowing grew more difficult, as his gag reflex activated and he almost spit all of it out again, only barely swallowing it down. 

The energy drink had now spilled on his bedsheets too, and he felt like he was already about to throw up, struggling to hold all of what he’d taken down. 

That was a good sign, right? 

That must mean that it was enough. Tim wasn’t sure if he could take another handful, shivering at the mere thought of repeating that again. It would suffice. It simply had to. 

He laid down on his bed, already dizzy and only half-conscious, waiting for the sweet relief of death to wash over him. 

~~~

After what felt like an eternity, Tim realized that it wouldn’t come. He’d blacked out, he’d laid still, waited and waited but still, the final unconsciousness that he wouldn’t be forced out of again never came.

And neither did anything else. 

He just remained there. Broken, helpless, alone. Moving alone felt like too much. 

Like it’d force him to acknowledge that he’d once again failed. That he was still very much alive, no matter how much he wished that he wasn’t. 

But there was also the quiet, cold feeling of relief washing over him, almost unnoticeable but still very much there. 

Because in a strange way, Tim was happy about what had happened. Now he deserved help, right? 

Right? 

He was happy to be alive, happy to have survived. But at the same time he still felt so unbelievably disappointed in himself for failing. 

Could he reach out? Tell someone that he had tried to end it all, again , and failed, again ? 

It was so lonely. The only things keeping him company were a still quarter-full energy drink, the leftover painkillers he was almost terrified of now, and the stuffed dragon he had loved as a kid. Almost desperately, he clung on to the latter as if it could bring him back to the time when he last held it like that. 

When he was lonely, not because he decided to shut everyone out but because there was no other way. When he still had a school to go to where he wouldn’t be all that alone for a few hours, instead of feeling alone even when two of his brothers (?) were in the same room as him. 

When the worst thing he’d ever done was sneak out to watch Robin fight crimes at night, wishing that he could be like that. Strong, brave, selfless. 

At that moment, Tim looked back on his life. And he realized, no matter how he had felt like while doing it, he was Robin . No matter how scared he felt, he’d still fought every criminal in his way, investigated every case Batman would let him get his hands on. 

He might never be like the boy he watched all those years ago, but he’d reached his goal. 

Maybe, if little Tim could see him right now, he’d look forward to being him in the future. He’d be all excited, jumping up and down and looking at him with star-glazed eyes as if he was the best hero in the world. 

Meanwhile the Robin suit was crumbled up in his backpack, and he was back at the same place he’d started at. But if he had reached at least one of the things he’d always dreamt of, it couldn’t be all that bad, right? 

And slowly, he managed to bring out a little smile. Not because he was happy, or because life was suddenly good. No, his stomach ached like it never had before, and his brain still felt droopy in the most awful way. It was because no matter how much he hated himself, how much he just wanted to vanish into thin air, he also suddenly understood how people could like him. 

Tim wasn’t all that bad. Maybe. He’d still have to figure that out before being fully convinced. 

And if someone out there was really capable of liking him, he could call for help. He wouldn’t have to be alone in all of this. 

He was Robin. And Robin always had Batman, or a team behind him. Robin wasn’t alone. And Tim didn’t want to be either right now. 

Silently, still hesitating and with a shaky voice, he spoke the magic two words. The ones he should’ve screamed before he ever entered this house in the first place. 

“Kon, help” 

Chapter Text

Kon reacted instantly. The moment he heard it, even if it was so quiet that he almost didn’t understand the second word, he was certain that something was going on. If it was the crack in Tim's voice halfway through the call for help, or the fact that his heartbeat seemed to be going so fast that it felt like Tim would explode in the next 10 seconds.

It was pretty early, and he’d just wanted to go down for breakfast from Ma Kent. But this was more important, even if the sweet smell of fresh apple pie was almost irresistible. With his superspeed, he left a note on the counter explaining that he was off to save a friend and not to be worried, before speeding to Gotham as quickly as possible.

He could hear Tim silently groaning, as if he was in massive amounts of pain but trying to keep it in. Had he gone out as Robin? Did something go wrong?

Either way, it helped him find Tim, being able to locate where he was by his voice.

And it was… Drake Manor?

Sure, Kon knew that Tim technically was the heir of the Drakes. But he’d never visited him there, never even heard him talk much about it. When they hung out in Gotham it was mostly out in restaurants or, on rare occasions, Tim's room in Wayne Manor. He hadn’t even known Tim still had that many ties to it, seeing as well, he seemed to be more part of the Waynes than anything.

Yeah, it was kind of an awkward position over there, and Tim had often talked about how he wasn’t Bruce’s son and how complicated that relationship was. But it still seemed like even though there was a lot going on, Tim was part of the Waynes. And even though Bruce was mighty bad at showing affection, he looked at Tim just the same way he looked at Dick.

With a sense of pride and fondness, a look only reserved for his children. As soon as he looked back to Kon it was a back-to-batman level suspicious glare.

So why in the actual fuck would Tim be at Drake Manor? Not to mention he was, as far as Kon knew, living with Jason at the moment. Had he been kidnapped? Something with his parents?

The more he thought about it, the less sense it seemed to make. His thoughts were racing with superspeed just as he was, going in circles and always coming back to the one question.

Why was Tim, from the sounds of it, alone?

What’d happened to Jason? Was there some bigger scheme going on to catch the two of them?

Or was it… something else.

Kon didn’t even want to really think about it. Didn’t want to imagine Tim laying in a puddle of blood, or falling off the roof of Wayne Manor.

Finally, he got there. And Tim was inside, so no rooftop-problems. At least that.

Carefully but quickly he picked the window lock of the room he guessed Tim was in, flying in and immediately searching the entire room with not only his eyes but also his TTK.

Which was pretty unnecessary, considering that he just had to turn to the right to find Tim laying on the bed, scrunched up into the fetal position and clinging onto a stuffed animal. But who could blame him, he’d rather be extra careful than lose his Tim.

Only one or two seconds could’ve passed since Tim's cry for help. And what scared Kon the most?

There was no kidnapper here, Tim wasn’t bound to a chair or visibly hurt at all. No falling-off-a-building, not even some fainting. He wasn’t in any physical danger.

And he looked so small. Like a scared, helpless animal that had been pushed into a corner, holding onto what looked like a childhood stuffed animal and looking at him with eyes that could make him cry at any second. But he tried not to, wanting to provide the help he was called for first. Tim went first.

His eyes also seemed a lot… darker. It took a bit for Kon to notice, but it wasn’t because of the lighting or anything. The pupils were, even though it wasn’t much, dilated, giving them even more of a puppy-look.

Frankly, it was terrifying. Kon quickly tried to mentally list off the things that could make human eyes dilate, but he’d always been really bad at keeping track of that kinda information.

“Hey” he tried, not sure how to proceed. How he could help.

Tim slowly raised his hand, bringing it up to Kon's own and holding onto it.

“You came”

Kon could practically feel his heart shatter into a million pieces. Of course he did. How could Tim have ever doubted that? Had he given him a reason to do so, had he done something wrong?

What was going on?

“What did you call me for?”

Helpless. That was the best word to describe how Kon felt. Helpless, and utterly useless. Because clearly, every safeguard they’d agreed upon had somehow failed, and Tim had been hurt once again. And he couldn’t even figure out what to do on his own, or put together the pieces of what happened. Pathetic.

Tim's voice was a tiny bit slurred and sounded broken, little pauses sneaking into places where they didn’t belong and his voice sounding just off.

“Could you bring me to the bathroom?”

Finally, something Kon could actually do. Something he could help with.

Something that didn’t make him feel like he was just a bystander, watching as Tim was slowly succumbing to whatever was torturing him.

Carefully, he picked up the boy into his arms, softly floating him where Tim was pointing him. Once there, Tim immediately held onto the Toilet seat and started throwing up until his face was sweaty and even though he was still gagging, nothing came out of his mouth anymore.

Kon just sat there, watching, holding onto his shoulder as if that was any help at all and wiping his face when it was over.

He’d rather be fighting off rogues and criminals than sitting here as Tim suffered, nothing more than an accessory in the moment.

Tim almost fell back on his back in exhaustion, Kon catching his head right before he was about to hit the tiles. His eyes were still blurred and unsteady, but tears were now welling up as he looked to something right beside him.

The scale.

“I failed” he whispered, so quiet that Kon wouldn’t have caught it if it wasn’t for his super hearing.

In an attempt to soothe Tim he held up his chin, redirecting his eyes towards himself and wiping off the tears as they came.

“At what, baby?”

But that just earned him a whole sob, and oh gods Kon wasn’t ready for that. He’d made Tim cry even worse when he was supposed to be helping, and now he was almost crying too because he really shouldn’t have said that and he was just awful at this and Tim-

Tim was now cupping his cheek in the very same way Kon did his, wiping away the sole tear running down his face.

“Bedroom?”

“Mhm” Kon answered, once again picking up Tim as if he was the most fragile and precious thing to ever have existed. Because right now, he was.

He’d never known Tim to be that vulnerable, that… broken. Almost everything that had happened over the last few days was so new, and with every confession, Tim had started to look more like the human he actually was.

Even though he was technically the most fragile out of all of them on Young Justice, he was still an unbreakable leader, almost seeming invulnerable in the way he fought. Asking for help wasn’t something he did, he was the one any of the others would call for if they needed help. Because no matter how human, how normal he was, Tim still always seemed like the most resilient out of all of them.

And here he was. Crying on the floor, and still wiping Kon's tears. It was just so him.

It had been hard to see his boyfriend, the person he trusted most in the scrunched up figure on the bed, it barely even resembled Tim anymore. But his strength, though he seemed so weak right now, still persisted in a way.

Still, Kon remained careful. He really did not want to test how strong Tim really was right now.

Tim curled up on the bed again, holding on tightly to the dragon plushie and burying his face in it. It was adorable, and it broke Kon's heart at the very same time.

In any other situation, he’d try to capture the moment, hold the innocence of Tim just cuddling what appeared to be his childhood stuffed animal for as long as he could, looking back on the memory with a smile.

But Tim's hands were still shaking and his sweat smelled acidic, and all Kon could think about was that he probably needed medical attention.

After a moment, Tim pointed to the side of the bed he wasn’t on, as if to ask Kon to lay down next to him. And of course, how could he ever say no to his dearest Tim?

Shortly after, the boy wonder was laying almost completely on his chest, the only distance between them being put there by the stuffed dragon Tim still held. Kon found himself playing with Tim's hair, petting it gently as he tried to soothe the other.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Someday”

“But not right now?”

“No”

“Do you need a doctor? You seem pretty sick”

“I’ll be fine”

Of course he’d be. He always was somehow, even when logically he should very much not be. Hell, it was a running gag in the team that Rob was simply too stubborn to actually get hurt.

But it wasn’t easy to trust him regarding his health this time. Not when his heart went either exploding-bomb levels of fast or sickeningly slow, not when he ended up throwing up five more times.

A few hours later, Tim had changed clothes once due to the bile getting all over him, and they’d have to wash the dragon later. Right now, since Tim couldn’t let go of it, Kon had just put it in water and dried it quickly with his superspeed, but that wouldn’t really be enough in the long run. Kon's shirt was almost completely wet, both from Tim and his own tears.

They’d talked about everything, except for the reason Kon was here in the first place. Of course, he wanted to know, he almost ached to hear what had caused all of this. But he knew that Tim would tell him, someday. When he was ready. When Kon's questions wouldn’t make him sob quite so quickly.

Tim had ended up going on an almost-hour-long rant about dinosaurs, prompted by Kon asking why he’d had a dinosaur stuffie in the first place.

It would’ve probably gone on for even longer if Tim hadn’t been interrupted by the bile forcing its way up his throat and ending up on his clothes and the dinosaur. After that he’d gone back to crying, refusing to continue because he ‘didn’t want to bother Kon with his stupid ranting’.

As if Kon could ever be bothered by Tim talking too much.

But no matter how much he reassured the other, he wouldn’t continue. Which was quite sad, because not only had he been in the middle of telling him about the misrepresentation of the T-Rex in pop culture, but also because Kon immediately missed the way his entire face lit up.

That expression Tim only wore when he was fascinated or excited by something. The one reserved only for cases and certain niche interests he had. It was captivating.

Kon wanted to listen to him and get lost in it, in his words, his messy explanations and over-analyses, the little smile he wore while talking.

And as the hours came and went, he slowly grew more calm. Because if anything really bad was going to happen to Tim, it would’ve at the start, right? It was far too late for him to die now.

They’d have more time. More days to spend with each other, enough for Kon to listen to every little thing Tim wanted to say, no matter if it was about dinosaurs or if it was another call for help.

Chapter Text

Jason woke up way too early, covered in sweat and his mind still racing after just getting out of his nightmare. The last few days he’d been spared the nightly terror, but apparently they weren’t done with him yet. Great. 

Soon he got up and went to make breakfast. He’d never been a morning person, but the thought of laying in the same bed that led him back to that warehouse every night got him out of there pretty quickly now. 

A little pang of pain flashed through him as he saw that Dick was still asleep on the couch. He even still wore the Nightwing suit. 

He probably should’ve offered him some clothes, but really he wasn’t thinking much last night. At least not about that. 

It was still… a lot. But whatever was going on with that, he’d have to think about it in like, a week from now. There was still so much to do for Tim, and he’d been meaning to talk about the therapist thing but he kept forgetting, and it was all just such a mess. 

And at the same time, the few days he’d spent with Tim now, he’d also grown more organized almost. Beside his bedroom, the house was mostly clean, and there was more than a few vegetables and protein in the fridge. Yes, he was good at cooking, but why bother with that if it’s so much easier to just eat a paprika and protein bar sometimes? 

Being a crime lord didn’t exactly mean waking up at 8am to be happy and make breakfast, although he did treat himself sometimes. It was more of an ‘this is fine right now’ than not taking care of himself properly. He’d been in the league way too long to not have the necessity of good meals drilled into him. But look at him now, actually cooking breakfast even if it wasn’t nutritionally perfect so that Tim would eat well. 

A true dad, or something like that. A big brother. 

Which brought him back to Dick. 

Dick, who’d been the only brother he’d ever had before. Who had been so fundamentally flawed and tried his best at the same time. Who, if he was honest, he was maybe trying to copy a bit when taking care of Tim. 

Because even through his issues and the phase of not even wanting Jason to be part of the family, Dick had been a good brother. The kind you look up to and wish to be like one day. Someone whose affection Jason had been chasing for all of his previous life. 

The golden boy, a legend of the hero community. Bruce’s perfect foil, the compassion and kindness to his emotional constipation. While B had always been awful at expressing feelings, showing his love through more subtle gestures, Dicks was obvious, blatant, always very clearly there, a constant comforting presence. Easier to grasp. 

A beacon of light, not only for humans and heroes alike, but also for little Jason who had suddenly been taken in by a billionaire, not knowing what to do with himself and so scared of misbehaving because mistakes could always mean going back to the streets of crime alley. 

Not that Bruce would’ve ever done that, but it took Dick screaming at their father and dragging Jason out to get Burgers in the middle of the night for him to realize that. 

And now, here he was, on Jason's couch, looking like he hadn’t slept in years and finally found rest after all of it. The confession that he’d been hallucinating Jason still lingered in the air, an uncomfortable presence that Jason tried his best to ignore. 

After finishing up breakfast, three plates this time, he first woke up Dick, trying not to look too close. Not to interact too much, as if talking to him would force him to confront everything that had happened. 

Tim didn’t sound very awake either, but that was normal for the kid. Apparently his sleep schedule was less of a schedule and more comparable to a badly managed startup attempt. Odd hours, weird 15-minute check-ins throughout the day, whatever. Jason had bigger things to worry about when it came to Tim. Although, he probably would stop asking him to stock up the fridge with that energy drink if he started sleeping regularly-

Anyway, Jason decided on taking the risk of waking the little gremlin up, because the food-issue was at least as pressing as the sleep one, and at least so far Tim had eaten everything he’d cooked. A great success, in Jason's book. 

Carefully, he knocked on the closed door, opening it a moment later to look if Tim had woken up yet. 

And Tim… wasn’t there. 

Okay. It was okay. Maybe he’d gone to the toilet and he didn’t notice- of course he wouldn’t Tim was bat-trained, he was probably even better at sneaking around than Jason was-

“Tim?” he asked, loud enough for it to be heard in the entire apartment. No answer. 

“What’s with Tim?” Dick asked, just coming back out of the bathroom. 

Great, so he wasn’t there either. 

MedBay? Jason's room, somehow? He was searching, checking every single damn corner, desperate to find the little gremlin. But he was gone, gone , and Dick was just standing there , and-

It was him. It had to be.

And suddenly, Jason saw green. Much in the same way that people say they see red, not because the color actually swarms their vision, but because it fills them, flooding the anger through them uncontrollably. But Jason's green was different . It felt almost poisonous, and suddenly he could feel everything ten times more intensely, every thought racing through his head became clear and sharp while the world around him started blurring, the only thing he could hold on to anymore being himself. 

But it wasn’t a foreign thing tearing through him, it was his own anger, his own panic simply being amplified, being formed into a weapon. One that he could use to get Tim back, wherever he was. 

If the kid left by his own accord, he’d have left a note. So, something happened. And Dick had shown up just last night, searching for Tim. 

How could he have been so stupid to let him stay. He probably alarmed Bruce or something, told him that Tim wasn’t safe with Jason. 

Just because he had threatened Dick didn’t mean that he’d do the same to Tim. Well, he’d planned to, but that felt like ages ago, like a whole other him. He’d take a bullet for the gremlin. He’d fix up his life, his apartment, so that Tim would have a safe home to live in. 

And well, Jason was ready to do much more than threaten Dick. 

It felt like all his admiration, all the love he’d thought he could rekindle vanished, replaced by everything he hated about the man. 

The burning jealousy of being the second Robin, the placeholder, only a follow up thought. 

Seeing Dick and Bruce interact and though they fought, they fit together. They got along, they were more than just a forced kind of family. They got along perfectly, a duo made for each other. While Jason was a dirty crime alley kid, a stray, so fundamentally different from Bruce no matter how desperately both of them tried to bridge the gap. He could never be like Dick, he could never make B smile like he did. 

Second place to a legend. What did that make him? 

Forgotten, in life as in death. The year he’d spent in a coma, though Dick claimed to have hallucinated him, missed him , he hadn’t even visited the grave for the whole year that it had been dug up, messy, clearly empty . 

Yes, Jason knew that he didn’t deserve Tim as his brother, that the blood on his hands was far too fresh for him to be nurturing and kind. But still, he wanted the chance, wanted to for once be the person Dick had always just naturally been. 

And he’d taken that away from him. Taken Tim someplace where he could potentially hurt himself without anyone noticing, putting his life in danger . Because though Dick was so grand, he’d failed Tim. And now, he could die because of it. The little gremlin could lose his life because he was somewhere out there, alone, without any of the support Jason had fought so hard to give to him. 

The support he had tried to make accessible so easily that Tim wouldn’t even have to think about it, so that he could learn to reach out. So that he could learn that whatever inconveniences he brought with, he was worth every single one of them. 

How was Jason supposed to help now? How could he know that Tim hadn’t already snuck out and done something to himself? He’d love to trust the kid, to know that he’d be fine, but this wasn’t the time for that. 

Within what felt like seconds he jumped forward, pressing Dick to the wall with his forearm while using his other hand to reach for the knife he always kept on him. 

“Where is he.” he growled, but it came out sounding more like a threat than a question. After just a second of hesitation, Dick started fighting back, quickly getting out of Jason’s grip and distancing himself from him. 

“You mean Tim? Do you really think I-” 

Jason lunged towards Dick again, both of them now fighting as they used to in training. Except Dick was still going easy on him, only fighting with half the strength he truly had. And that drove Jason mad . How dare he still not take him for full, acting like he was some vulnerable little boy? How dare he take Tim away, risking his life just to irritate him? 

“Jason what-” 

But it was clear now, the green leading him, directing him on what to do. Dick was just the first obstacle to Tim, and he had to get through this, get to the gremlin before it was too late. 

Jason barely registered what he was doing anymore, fighting the way he had learned at the league while also using some of the things he’d learned back in his Robin days, throwing Dick off even more with this new style, this weird mix of no-kill vigilante and trained assassin. 

It was like muscle memory, and it felt so good , so right . He got completely lost in his anger and worry, what would happen after the fight, how he’d find Tim, and before he could even register what had happened, he found his right hand placed in a fist against Dicks upper stomach. 

The hand he’d held his knife in. 

Slowly, Jason loosened his grip, staring at the familiar handle sticking out of Dick as if it was his worst nightmare come true. Still, it barely got to him, and the only thing he could think about was that this was his time to leave. To go and find Tim before it was too late for him too. 

Still, he stopped for a moment, looking into Dicks wide open eyes, getting more glass-like with each passing second. His expression was so weird, and Jason could not for the life of him figure out why the acrobat was smiling . It wasn’t much, but the corners of his lips were slightly tilted upward, giving him almost a kind of peaceful look. 

“Jay?” Dick croaked, his voice high pitched and broken. And Jason still didn’t understand, didn’t get what was happening, because why did it sound so soft through all the cracks? Like it was a last-minute love confession, spoken with more affection than he could take. 

When he looked down again, Dicks hand was wrapped around the handle, and for a moment Jason wasn’t sure whether he was holding it in place in order to not do more damage or if he was trying to pull it out and give it back to him. 

Until Dicks hand moved, jerked forward just slightly, slowly, and suddenly the blood started pouring out of him like a fountain- 

Jason quickly grabbed his hand, holding it firmly in place. It wasn’t like he wanted his brother  to stay alive, really he didn’t know what he was doing at all anymore, completely lost as to how all of this had happened in the first place, but still-

“Don’t you dare” he growled, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do, because Dick just flinched at that which worsened the whole thing more and oh fuck he sounded like Bruce- 

And that was enough. He ran, ran away until he was finally out of that goddamned apartment, away from Dick and away from the Knife buried deep in his chest. 

Ran until he couldn’t see anymore, not knowing why he was crossing certain corners or why he didn’t just call an ambulance, hell he didn’t even know how he would find Tim now. Dick had been his only clue, and well that was definitely not an opinion anymore-

Until he found himself in the luxury part of Gotham. The small part that was well protected by the police, where Manor after Manor lined up nicely on the street. 

And well, if Tim really had been taken somewhere, it would be either Drake or Wayne Manor, right? 

Wayne Manor was probably more likely if Dick had taken him. He’d want him in his immediate vicinity. But if it was Bruce, Jason really had no clue. 

It seemed like B had been a completely different Father to Tim while still being the same vigilante. 

So, what was it? 

Wayne Manor, the place Bruce took stray kids in, gave them a home in?

Or Drake Manor, the place Bruce let Tim stay in despite definitely having enough stalking tendencies to know how abandoned it was? 

The B he’d known, the father he’d adored, or the person that had refused to kill the Joker, revived him even, and had failed Tim in every way possible? Who did he really think Bruce was? 

Chapter Text

Tim didn’t notice when someone entered the Manor. Not because he couldn’t have, hell if he was in his right mind he’d have jumped at whoever was there with a kitchen knife the moment he’d heard. But he wasn’t.

Tim was still in his bed, heart still racing, his throat raw and painful from the bile that had been forcing its way up almost every hour since he’d swallowed the pills. He was so hungry that that alone made him feel even dizzier, but even the small glass of water Kon had given him earlier had been thrown up not even ten minutes later.

Thinking felt like walking on clouds, and he hated it. While he was desperately searching for the feeling before, wanting to turn off his brain, it felt more like a curse now. He wanted his clarity, his sharp cutting-edge conclusions and thought processes back. How could he be himself, Tim Drake, a detective, without that?

Sure he wasn’t working right now. But what did that matter? He wanted to. If he could, he’d be figuring out a case right now, or taking down a drug ring-

Something that would be productive. Something that justified him still being alive. Something that would justify why his heart was going so painfully fast, something that made him feel like himself again.

He wasn’t a great Robin, but he was still Robin. And he loved that. He missed going out on patrol, no matter if it was by Batman's side or alone.

Instead, all he could do was lay in Kons arms, begging anyone, anything for this to stop, for him to feel normal again, despite not even remotely believing in any higher power. Really, he hated it. Hated everything about this day. If he had any say on it, it’d be evening and he’d be dead asleep, his mind clearing up while he didn’t have to think.

But it was still early morning, and his ability to sleep had to have gotten lost somewhere along the way, because every time he tried to his heart beat even faster and suddenly he was shaking again, always wide awake, scared of dying right then and there.

Tim Drake was scared of dying now. Because as his stomach cramped and his head was spinning, as he was sweating through his shirt and crying without any tears, he just wanted out. He wanted to go back in time to the moment he had started packing his bag and stay in that apartment, stay there with Jason and Dick even if he’d be an irrelevant accessory.

Maybe go out on a date with Kon, or even patrol with him instead of almost dying slowly and torterously in his arms.

The longer he thought about it, the more he realized that he’d rather do anything else. Rather fight with Bruce about not endagering himself, rather sit alone in this room, only accompanied by the silence.

Well, maybe not that. But he didn’t even have to do that did he? Kon was right here.

And suddenly, the reasons Tim had to stay alive lined up one after the other, and at the end of it all was fear. Fear that now as he realized all of this, as he finally felt like he could really try to live his life and somewhat enjoy it, he might still die.

Rationally, he probably wouldn’t, right? It was probably not even a lethal dose. But Tim couldn’t stop thinking about it, not when he could feel himself dying right then and there. This had to be that. He had to be hovering above the fires of hell, tethering just on the line between sweating and being burned alive. Or dead? If he was in hell he’d be burned dead right?

Technicalities.

Tears kept rolling down onto Kons shirt at random, because the longer they remained in that position, the more Tim felt so desperately sorry. He’d almost left Kon alone. Almost made him grieve his boyfriends death, the same boyfriend that he’d showed up for without even a single question, not a single doubt about helping him even when it was just to let him cry on his shoulder.

How could Tim have done that to him? How could he have even tried to?

He felt so overwhelmed by guilt, wanting to apologize until his throat was too painfull to utter another word, but every ‘Sorry’ from him was immediatly shut down by Kon telling him that it was okay, that it wasn’t his fault, that he would never have to apologize for needing help.

But it wasn’t the help he was apologizing for. He was apologigzing for everything, for his shortcomings and his messed up mind, for almost making Kon tell people about him in the past tense.

And Tim couldn’t correct him. Couldn’t say what was going on, tell him how wrong Kon was to think him innocent in all of this.

Tim was still caught up in his own thoughts when suddenly, someone was standing in the already wide open doorframe. He only really noticed once Kon was looking towards the door, prompting Tim to do the same.

It was Jason. Although it took Tim a moment to realize that, it most definitely was. But his eyes were glowing in this weird green way-

And suddenly, Tim remembered the messages he had written. They must’ve sent out probably like three hours ago. So Jason had woken up and read it and-

How did all that blood get onto his shirt? And his eyes were glowing green, that hadn’t happened before-

“Jason?” he tried, his voice still way too shaky for his liking but it had to do.

“You’re fine” Jason simply stated, not even really a reply but more of thinking out loud. And with that, he simply turned around again, walking off. It couldn’t be too far, Tim could hear his steps stop soon after, but that could also be due to his stealth training and the distance between them.

He’d left.

Jason just… left. Turned around and walked off into the endless halls of the manor, as if Tim had never been there at all.

Did he do something? What had even happened before Jason got here, why was he covered in blood, was it his own? Was he passed out in the hallway right now?

If Tims heart hadn’t been racing for the last few hours, he’d have had a panic attack right that moment. But it was really hard to do so when he’d been doing pretty much nothing but panicking.

Was Jason disappointed that his attempt hadn’t worked? Had he come here expecting to find a body, and turned around once he realised that Tim wasn’t ready to be buried yet?

Jason would never want him dead. But what if he’d been relieved that Tim was off his shoulders now, that he didn’t have to deal with him anymore?

Of course. After all, he had Dick now. He had his family back. Why would he still need Tim?

He had been a placeholder, a replacement for the family Jason was too scared to go back to. But why keep him, why keep worrying and caring when he could have the original family, the one he really wanted back? Tim was just an obstacle, standing in the way of him and Bruce.

“Tim? Are you okay?”

Only then did he notice that he hadn’t said a single word, not moved one centimeter since Jason had left the room again.

Left, left, left.

He knew that this was coming. It was so obvious, Jason was never going to put up with him forever. Sure it was unusual that he came if he thought Tim was already dead, he’d probably leave that cleanup to someone else, but-

Why else would he leave the room again after coming here? The only reason Tim could find was that Jason was disappointed by what he’d found. And why else would that be?

“I’ll go talk to him” Kon simply stated, getting up and leaving the room before Tim could bring himself to say anything against that.

And now? Tim was alone in his room once again. And although he really didn’t want to think that way, for a moment, he thought that dying from this whole pill-thing, it’d stop the pain and distress he was in just as well as sleep would.
~~~

“Now what do you think you’re doing just turning around and leaving again?”

“He’s fine”

“Well you didn’t see the thousand mile stare he got after you walked away”

“I had… something to do”

Jason still stared at his screen, the list of recent calls now showing one new number. A number he’d just called with a voice changer on, informing who was on the other line that Nightwing was injured in his apartment. Well, he hadn’t called it that. But he’d given the right address.

If the Idiot didn’t somehow pull the knife out while fainting after loosing all that blood, he’d be fine.

Jason would just probably lose his apartment. And Tims room.

Good that he’d barely started building the furniture they’d gotten yet.

And he would probably lose his identity. His secret. Oracle could decode any voice changer in seconds, especially one as shitty as the random-ass app he had to use.

Bruce now had his number, his voice, and his apartment where all of his gear still was. And still, Jason didn’t want to walk out of the Manor and somehow get there before he did.

Because even if Tim was fine in there with Kon and he had his support system and damn he was really proud of the kid for finally reaching out even if that wasn’t to him-

He couldn’t just leave completely. And although the shock of seeing Tim completely okay and with Kon and safe, making him realize that he threw away everything he could’ve ever had with Dick for nothing had made him turn around in that moment, he wouldn’t fully leave as long as Tim didn’t ask him to.

And now the kids boyfriend was standing in front of him, hands on his hips and looking at him as if he was about to scold him. It was quite funny to be honest, considering that even though Kon was definitely some type of Kyptonian, Jason was still a good bit taller and wider than him.

Well, the kid was only like what, 15? Which made it even funnier, because this barely grown teen was now trying to tell him what to do.

“What the fuck do you have to do that warrants you just leaving like that?”

“Tim is fine he has you-”

“No see I haven’t been able to figure out what’s been going on for the last few hours. I don’t know why he’s here. I know he cried once when I mentioned you and then stopped reacting when you showed up. So if you-” Kon raised his finger, pointing at Jason in an almost comical manner, “don’t either explain to me what is going on and if he is going to be okay or go in there right fucking now and talk to him, I will be taking him with me for now. I know he trusts you, but if you don’t give me a reason to do the same right fucking now-”

Jasons mind was racing trying to find a reason, trying to come up with anything that could explain all that Kon had just told him and-

There’d been a notification on his phone form Tim. He hadn’t minded it since the first time he’d even looked at his phone besides putting it in his pocket was just now to make the call about Dick, and he already knew that Tim was safe at that point.

Maybe he had reached out to Jason too? Explained a bit more than he apparently had to Kon?

“Did you get a message from Tim too?”

“What- no he called my name I didn’t even check my phone”

Now Kon was getting out his phone too, and right there on the lockscreen was the notification. One new message from Tim.

“But- if that explained anything he would’ve just told me once I got here”

“Then read it later. You said that he isn’t actually fine?”

“Well fucking obviously he’s been throwing up and crying on and off for hours”

Oh. God, who had ever let Jason be the person responsible for someones feelings. Really, a horrible decision if you asked him. Not that he didn’t care, he was just so obviously and desperately awful at, well, doing anything in that regard.

Without another word he went right back to the room, where Tim was still in almost the same position as he was when Jason had left earlier, only now Jason could clearly see that he was clutching on to some stuffed dragon. Honestly, if he wasn’t so damn worried, and if Tim wasn’t just frozen like that, it’d be adorable.

“Hey?”

“You read the message” it wasn’t a question, it was a statement. A fact, in Tims opinion. Except, Tim had probably been overthinking everything for the few minutes he and Kon were gone, so anything that he was assuming now was probably far fetched and had something to do with both Kon and Jason leaving him forever.

The worst thing about being a detective who solves the most convoluted and messy cases is that at some point, the worst and most unlikely option becomes your default conclusion.

“No I didn’t, I was trying to find you”

“What about Dick?”

Oh.

“Why are you asking?”

“Why are you looking for me when you could be spending time with him”

God, Jason was so dreadfully happy that Tim always seemed too tired to even try and lie or hide how he was feeling. He could see that the boy would never open up like this to anyone else, or in any other circumstance, but he had really just been there at the right moment every time.

Why not trust a stranger with your pain when you wont live another day to feel it?

Why lie about what had happened when that ‘stranger’ had now earned your trust?

Why hide how you feel when you feel so drained, and it’d cost you so much more energy than just confiding in someone he felt safe with?

It was all just pure luck, moments of vulnerability that might’ve never happened if anything had changed even in the slightest. But Jasonn was grateful for it. Because the more Tim was honest with him, the less of an incentive to lie he had the next time.

“Becaue I was worried about you, and why would I want to spend time with him? I let him stay over so he wouldn’t snitch to B about where you really are”

Jason had flown by lie by lie, sneaking his way through the cracks with the little off-truths ever since he’d learned how to do it convincingly. But if one thing from his Robin days had stuck, it was that total honesty was needed in a fight. How else could you help one another?

And what was life if not a battlefield?

“You what?” Tim answered, voice more broken now and tears starting to flow down his face again.

Jason walked up to him, ruffling through his hair gently, hoping for his dear life that Tim would just stop crying. Seriously, how was he supposed to keep up the tough-guy thing in front of Kon if Tim just started crying?

He’d do too. And then someone would know that he could cry. Which just really did not fit into his crime lord image and he had spent way too much working on that-

It’d be like Tim suddenly starting to wear a bright yellow cowl. Like no, he probably hated yellow (at least that was the only reason Jason could think of for the cape being black on the outside), and seriously a cowl? For Tim?

Just really not a good rep overall.

“So you still want me there?”

“I’m sorry that I ever let you doubt that”

“You didn’t really I just- I’m me?”

Oh god would Jasons heart ever stop breaking? Seriously Tim, if you keep being this tragic the pieces might vaporize.

“And that’s perfectly fine kid, as long as you call for help if you need it”

“Not a kid”

“Details”

Kon cut in, now standing beside Jason.

“You going home now?”

Jasons apartment was Tims home in Kons eyes. That felt strangely good to hear, somehow.

Tim looked back at Jason questioningly, and Jason just thought about it for a minute. It would be fine for today, right?

He wanted it to be. He wanted to not uproot his life again, leave behind anything that he had in there, together with the memories he’d collected in the place, no matter how awful they were.

Just today, until they knew what was going on with the whole Dick situation.

Jason took a step back, letting the two boys say goodbye and looking away when they kissed. No matter how old Tim was, and if he only ever got to know him as a teenager, Tim was practically his small little baby brother in his eyes.

Yes, he was a competent and very capable guy that was even more capable than Jason or Batman in some fields. Yes, he also was very much the baby brother that will somehow always stay 12 from Jasons point of view. Not in the way that he can’t grow as a person in his eyes, more that Tim would to him always be young and innocent in a way that he simply couldn’t explain.

Especially since he hadn’t even known the kid at 12.

Goddamn this was weird. But it was a good kind of weird.

A kind of weird that made Jason smile as he and Tim went home, forgetting about all that had happened for just a moment.

Chapter Text

“Do you want me to read the message?”

The question confused Tim. Not because he was unsure why Jason would ask, but because he simply had no idea how to answer.

Did he want Jason to know every single detail of what had been going through his mind, every doubt he had about himself and his life along with him confessing just how much everything Jason had done meant to him?

What had happened would get out soon anyway, there was no universe in which he’d be able to avoid Jason prying that information out of him, even if it was secret blood tests to make sure that he wasn’t severely hurt.

Ultimately, Tim decided on one thing.

He did want Jason to know all of what he’d meant to say. Eventually. But in a different context, from Tim directly, and not from a note that he’d written intending to never speak to Jason again.

“No”

“You ditched the wheelchair?”

“Don’t need it”

“Stop bullshitting me, you’re barely even walking right now”

It took quite a while for the both of them to get home, considering that neither had thought about taking the motorcycle with them. So, the bus it was, since Jason was insisting on not letting Tim walk.

Tim really didn’t want to be on the damn bus. Busses had cameras, he could so easily be tracked like this. It wouldn’t even take a batman or a cop to find him if he got on there. But, as always, Jason ended up convincing him somehow. Even if it took him wearing Jason's jacket in order to not reveal his face or stature to anyone on there.

It was kind of odd that Jason wasn’t concerned about his identity at all. But well, that could also be explained by the fact that he was simply dead. He couldn’t be recognized, because as far as anyone watching them was concerned, he only had a little resemblance to the boy who died tragically two years ago.

Quite a good secret identity, now that he was thinking about it.

Still, Batman was paranoid. Even more so than Tim. And Jason was just out here, showing his face to the city's cameras while also appearing as Red Hood? That was risky.

But in this case, it meant that Tim could stay undercover. Which was really comforting, considering that he’d already given Bruce way too many opportunities to track him down as is.

It’d probably only take another day or two until his cover was blown anyway. The only thing protecting him right now was the fact that since he was supposed to be on an undercover mission, Batman wasn’t trying to keep track of him.

And then what?

That was the big question, wasn’t it? What would happen once Batman learned about what his Robin had really been up to?

Would he get fired? Never be able to go out as a vigilante again? He didn’t have superpowers, or something backing his identity as a hero. It was a borrowed mantle, a borrowed spot as a part of the bats. What would he do when his return period was over?

As much as Tim felt crushed by the weight of Robin, he was also freed by it. It gave him a purpose, a reason to go out instead of rotting in the Manor all day. Whether that was because he was Robin or because he was following the vigilante around was a different story.

Still on the bus, Jason started whispering to him, explaining what had happened before he’d gotten to Tim.

“You stabbed him?”

“It was an accident”

“So he tripped and fell on your knife?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s Dick”

“So he backflipped onto it?”

They were both chuckling now, trying not to be too loud as they talked.

“So he’s okay?”

“Well, I kind of left after that”

“Damn”

They were both silent for a moment, only interrupting the constant chatter in the background by occasional half-suppressed giggles.

Clearly trying to sound more serious, Jason started again. “I told B to come get him. So, I assume he’s already in the MedBay by now, but I can’t promise that we can stay in the apartment for long.”

“Wait, but your Identity-”

“I was going to reveal it anyway, and finding you was more important than getting Dick somewhere else before calling B.”

One thing wasn’t said, and Tim was pretty sure that it was deliberate. That Jason just didn’t want to say it, or even think about it.

He could’ve left Dick there, waited until he was home to relocate him. It’d just probably taken another hour. Time that Dick might not have had.

As much as Jason laughed about what had happened or tried to act like Dick was no more than an annoyance to him, he’d put his life above his mission.

This wasn’t just revealing that he was indeed alive to Bruce. He knew Jason's apartment now. Even if Dick didn’t mention that Jason was alive, if Batman went back to investigate, he’d find that Jason was the Red Hood.

This was potentially ruining everything Jason had built up, every fragile string he’d strung throughout Gotham's criminal underworld threatening to be snapped by the Batman himself.

All for the life of a man Jason claimed to be indifferent to at most.

“My biggest worry in all of this is you, because I have no legal claim to you, but Bruce could easily try and adopt you. So really, it’s your decision where we go from here”

Tims decision. What were his options?

Move? Pick up a new Identity?

Go back to his old life?

It was difficult. He wanted to stay with Jason, he liked the way things were right now. But could he give up his Identity as Tim Drake and the Robin mantle up for that?

He didn’t have that many emotional connections to his civilian identity, really. But Robin?

Robin was a member of Young Justice. Robin was friends with Bart and Cassie. Sure, they knew about Tim Drake. But they’d never really seen him outside of the mask except for missions, maybe the occasional movie night. And even then, he was Rob to them.

He liked being Robin in front of them. The real Tim was pathetic, nothing more than just a guy. Suicidal. Depressed. Alone.

Kon was probably one of the only ones out of his friends that really knew him beyond who he wanted to be. He knew what Tim actually was.

Although, Kon would say that Tim was actually just like Robin, but more human. Just as brilliant and strong, but without a mask to cover his flaws.

Hell, he’d said it so much that Tim almost believed it. But he couldn’t just risk that. Who was he to the team without being Robin?

Who was he overall without him?

The vigilante life had changed him, given him a purpose and a way to keep busy. To do something that actually had an impact.

To do good and solve mysterious cases instead of slowly going insane with all the thoughts racing around his head.

Even stopping for the last few nights had hurt. How could he ever give it all up completely?

The simple answer was that he couldn’t.

But how could he keep living with Jason and be Robin at the same time?

A while later, they finally reached the apartment. It seemed normal, except for the blood in the corner of course.

Until suddenly, Tim heard something move. It must’ve been either in his room or the bathroom right beside it.

Silently, he pointed Jason to go into the bathroom, while he walked towards the door of his room.

His room. It still felt good every time he thought about it.

Tim opened the door quickly, ready to attack whatever he would find inside and already placed his hand on his pocket where his staff was, folded down as small as possible. Because of course he had a staff specifically for defending himself even in a civilian setting. Was it suspicious for a random rich kid to beat someone up with a staff? Maybe. Could it be easily excused by weird self defense lessons? Most definitely.

And Gotham was too dangerous to not have his best weapon always near him.

Oh, and find something he did.

The familiar black shadow lurked by his nightstand, seemingly going through the mess Tim had left when he went out last night.

Batman.

Why the fuck did these vigilantes think that they had the right to just walz in here whenever it was convenient for them?

Tim was frozen for a moment, and so was the black blob in front of him.

He wasn’t ready for a fight. For any of this, actually. His mind still felt foggy and although he was walking fine (he passed the straight line test with flying colors, Jason, shut up) he suddenly felt like his knees were going to give up on him right then and there.

Fighting Batman like this? Not a chance. Not a single fucking chance that he’d land even one punch, really.

But he wouldn’t just give up. Whatever the man wanted, he wouldn’t get it just like that. Not if Tim had any say in it.

“You found anything?” he heard Jason half-yell from the bathroom, but Tim wasn’t going to start talking now. Not when the silence in the room was still almost deafening, threatening to shatter any moment. Tim was sure that when it did, its fractured pieces would cut right through his skin, weakening his defences further.

But only shortly after he could feel Jason stand right behind him, probably also getting his weapons ready.

He was just as silent as Tim now.

“Red Hood?” the figure growled, having barely moved ever since this whole scene had started.

So he’d found the suit and gear. Okay, okay that was- not Ideal. But none of this really was. How could it be?

“Batman.”

Tim could hear Jason's voice shaking ever so slightly, not enough to be really noticeable but enough for Tim to pick up on it.

He was scared.

Tim had never seen Jason scared unless it was because something had happened to him. Which, to be fair, considering that they had only properly met a couple of days before, was probably still a lot.

But this was a bit different. It was laced with anger, the bitterness of pent up emotions flooding out all at the same time without any control.

“What are you doing with the child”

‘The child’. As if he didn’t know Tim at all. As if by leaving, he had forsaken all ties to him forever.

Sure, it was probably because he thought that Jason was just Hood, a random criminal who didn’t know his identity. But still, it cut deep. Deeper than Tim would’ve expected it to.

“You seriously don’t recognize me?”

“What is there to recognize?”

Tim could practically feel Jason's anger grow behind him now.

“Let the kid free Hood”

“He isn’t holding me. I’m here because I want to be” Tim finally answered, trying to protect Jason, to calm down the energy filling the entire room now. If these two fought, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself or how to act.

Jason had been right. Walking here had already been a tough task, what could he do if this escalated?

“Sure you are”

“Bats, I’d recommend you leave here right now and go take a real close look at your own kid. Oh, wait, he’s dead isn’t he?”

Jason waited a minute, catching his breath before continuing.

“But you still have another one, right? Not like you’d know, considering that you’re going through my business instead of being with him!”

“He’s being treated-”

“How do you know that Bats? You’re not there? You’re not even worrying about it!”

Jason now walked past Tim, right up to the black blob before there was barely any space left between the two of them.

“How about you start taking care of your own kids? Maybe they would stop leaving you then”

Chapter Text

Tim reached for his phone, dialing the same number as he had so many times before. Voicemail, once again. But at least it had something about it now. Because even though his dad never responded to his questions, couldn’t listen and react to his rants, his voice was still there with him. 

Once it was over Tim hung up again, knowing that no matter what he said on voicemail his parents would never have the time to listen to it. He felt pathetic. He felt sad. He felt proud that his dad considered him responsible enough to be all on his own. 

He was only 10, and already used to being alone at home more than living with his parents. And it was great, really! 

Really, great. 

~~~

Tim was 14 when Bruce first called him Jason. He corrected him. 

A day later, it happened again. 

A month later, he stopped trying to correct the man. It wasn’t like he was insisting on Tim being Jason, he was simply confused, grief and guilt still consuming him every time he was reminded of the son, the child that he’d lost. Which was every second of every day, because the moment that he’d died the entire Manor was turned into a memorial of him . 

It wasn’t just the Robin suit in the cave. It was his old room, his chair at the dinner table, the spot on the couch he’d sat on when reading. 

Even though Tim had literally stalked Jason before, he felt like he truly knew the boy after a while of being Robin. Not because of the stories Bruce or Dick would tell, but because it felt like he was still in there, haunting every corner. At least the memories of him were there, taking up so much space that Tim was barely visible anymore. 

He was responsible for Bruce now. The man hadn’t been sleeping, hadn’t been eating, only training or patrolling every second of the day. 

It was quite ironic to look back on now. 

But who else was going to do it? Alfred certainly couldn’t convince Bruce to do anything, and Dick was too busy throwing himself into his own work in Blüd to deal with what was going on back in Gotham. 

So Tim put the man back together, piece by piece. First it was enforcing regular sleep. Then he was making sure Bruce ate three meals a day, even if that meant almost force-feeding him some days. 

One day they’d split up for patrol. After doing his share, he located Batman and went to him, expecting to go home for the night. 

That night, Tim talked Bruce away from the edge, heart racing as he tried his best to bring the man back to reality. 

In the end, the only thing that worked was playing into it. 

Being like Jason. Acting like Jason. Making Bruce think that he was Jason. 

It was funny now, considering that he’d been saved by Jason on a rooftop so similar to the one all those months ago. 

It was funny, really. You can laugh! Please, laugh. 

How could Tim ever be enough of anything after that? He wasn’t Bruce’s reason to back off that night. All his begging and pleading, his stern words and commands had done nothing but make him hesitate. It had been Jason who he’d stayed for. 

He wasn’t Bruce’s son. 

Tim wasn’t anyone's son anymore. 

~~~

Jason was different. He answered when Tim called. He was more than Tim had ever deserved. 

And that was precisely the problem. 

Because Jason made him feel valuable, when Tim only saw a damaged tool. Nothing more than a problem, really. 

But hopefully, he’d have to learn how to live with that. 

~~~

Somewhere along the way, Tim had lost something. He wasn’t quite sure what it was anymore, he just knew that it was missing. Because every affectionate gesture from Jason came with a certain kind of numbness, a feeling of emptiness filling the space between all his other emotions. As if something had been supposed to be there but it’d disappeared somewhere between the imaginary scenarios he’d used to fill his loneliness with and the Jason-persona he’d worn every time Bruce wasn’t looking too closely. 

Not that he’d tried to act like Jason, not when it wasn’t a moment like the rooftop edge. It was simply who he was to Bruce. 

A replacement. 

He couldn’t blame the man. He was grief-ridden, hallucinating Jason half of the time anyway. Tim had offered himself up to help. Really, if anything, it’d been his own fault. 

And it still stung more than any of his cuts ever could’ve. 

~~~

Batman just stood there, not having an answer to what Jason had just said. 

He hadn’t even recognized Jason. While everything that had happened certainly changed his appearance, shouldn’t Bruce still be able to identify his own son? Or had he forgotten what Jason truly looked like after calling Tim by his name so many times? 

“I don’t think a kidnapper should be giving me parenting advice” 

“For the last time I didn’t- Fine. Think what you want. But Tim is free to stay wherever he wants to, so don’t you dare force him to go with you” 

“He is a child. He isn’t safe with you” 

Where was this care about his age back when Tim had basically been Bruce’s parent? Did it really only matter when it was about taking him away from the one place he felt really, truly welcome at? 

Bruce, please don’t make me give up the one chance I have at life.

It’s this or nothing. 

This, or the next time I’ll try to leave no one will be there to stop me.  

This, or the next time around I will have no doubts about not wanting to be stopped. 

“You never learned from your mistakes, did you Bruce?” 

“What-” 

“Come on, take a closer look at me Brucie. Don’t you see it?” 

“...Jason?” 

“That’s right. And now get your ass out of here and stop saying that I am a danger to Tim when you failed him in every possible sense of the word.” 

A moment of silence passed, and Batman still didn’t move. 

“I said get out! Get out of my fucking sight you dirty bat!” Jason was screaming now, the green glimmer of his eyes so sharp that Tim could see it clearly even from some distance. 

But Bruce still didn’t move. It was Bruce now, not Batman. 

“You’re back” 

“Yeah, and I kill people. Ouu big bad, right B? Don’t you wanna put me in Arkham too now?” 

Jason started talking more slowly now, emphasising each word. 

“I’m everything that is wrong with this rotten city. I am each piece of scum that you wouldn’t get rid off. And still, I am shocked about how you treated the kid. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, really?” 

If Tim's mind wasn’t still so foggy, he would’ve thought that the little twitch on Bruce's face was a sign of guilt. An admission that he’d done something wrong, that there was something to feel guilty about. 

“Tim, you are benched until further notice.” 

And with that, the dark knight disappeared back into the black Gotham sky, leaving behind his two sons. 

Batman's greatest failure and Bruce Wayne's biggest failure. 

Both so incredibly hurt, wishing for something to finally change. 

But both of them knew that neither Bruce nor Batman were ready to do that. 

Chapter Text

Bruce Wayne wasn’t ready to go back to the cave. Not ready to confront the fact that his eldest was still in critical condition while his younger sons were still out there, too far gone for him to reach them now. 

Not ready to face the fact that he had found them. He had found Jason, alive and well. His boy, his baby, was alive. 

And he wanted nothing to do with Bruce. 

Meanwhile, he was avoiding seeing Dick, afraid that he might lose him too. If he wasn’t there, nothing bad could happen, right? At least he wouldn’t know about it. 

After seeing the video of Jason being beaten to a pulp that night, rewatching it endlessly, Bruce would rather not be there than see another one of his kids get hurt like that. 

It was incredibly selfish of him. He knew that right now, Dick was in the MedBay of the cave, probably still passed out while Alfred did his best to stitch him back up. 

He’d wake up, hoping that Bruce would be right there by his side. 

Bruce would be anywhere else at that moment, as long as he didn’t have to see those glassy reddened eyes on his son. The ones they only got when death was near, when that last surge of hope shook through them before…

Dick had always been the worst, acting as if his injuries weren’t even really his own and making fun of Bruce for being concerned when really, he could see right through it. Could see that after the first time he’d almost died it haunted him, the white veil of death behind his eyes only fading slowly as time passed.

It was as if suddenly, the boy had realized that he was mortal just like the rest of them. And still, he fought even riskier, jumping in combat the second anyone else was even remotely in danger. Bruce hated it. He hated seeing his boy act like that, like he knew that he could die and risking it anyway for the sake of others. But Dick took calculated risks and led the people around him better than Bruce ever could’ve. He was good. He saved people.

He was one of the best heroes of all time, and that scared Bruce to death. 

Then Jason came. And Jason was so fundamentally different. He wasn’t out for revenge like Dick had been in the beginning. He was a beacon of hope, brighter than the sun itself. He was the best of them all. 

And consequently, his shadows seemed to be darker than Bruce could’ve ever imagined. Sure, Jason and him had fought, they’d argued and screamed at one another. Not in the way he did with Dick. 

His fights with Dick were because they were too similar, the things they did disagree about being all the worse for it. But Jason was his opposite. And somehow, they fought about the things they had in common. 

How to help Gotham. 

Bruce had never thought that one day, the kid that shined so brightly would go and be the violence he had spent his life resisting.

Jason had been afraid of death. He was afraid of a lot of things back then, and it was one of his biggest strengths. He followed the rules, he was a hero without being self sacrificing. It was a little break for Bruce’s worried heart. 

When he first saw the tape of Jason's death, he saw those eyes. Grayer than usual. Resigned. Not afraid, not scared in the slightest. 

And still, they were full of hope. Hope that he’d be saved, that Bruce would come and find him. 

Bruce had failed him. He was the one responsible for his son's death, the reason that light behind his eyes was extinguished in one, fiery, raging explosion. 

He hadn’t been able to look at any of his kids getting hurt badly after that. 

Today, he’d found his son again. But instead of shining brightly like the sun, he reminded Bruce of the ashes that had still been glowing all around Jason when he found him that night. 

Still, he wanted to take him home, to hug him tight and beg for his forgiveness. But he was sure that if he did so by force, Jason would simply burn everything down, until there was no one there who could fail him anymore.

~~~

He should’ve never let Tim into his life. 

He’d done it anyway. 

Whether that was because he wanted to help the kid or knew that Tim was the only one who would try to save him from himself, Bruce wasn’t sure. 

But it was a mistake. There was no doubt about it. 

It wasn’t like Bruce didn’t love the kid. He did, really. It was just… different. He hadn’t taken him home and taken care of the kid, shown him how being loved felt like he had done for Jason. Tim already had parents, he had a home. 

Instead, Tim had taken care of him. 

Bruce justified it to himself by saying that the kid probably went home to his parents, got hugged by them just like he hugged Bruce. 

Still, he felt ashamed. He felt guilty. 

But even when he got better, there was just never a reason to apologise. Tim, out of all of his children, seemed so well adjusted. Independent. Strong. 

Bruce knew that in reality, Tim was just a kid. And nothing he could do would ever reverse the fact that in those months where he’d been taking care of Bruce, Tim had grown up too fast. He became an adult at the ripe age of 14, taking on responsibilities that Bruce wouldn’t have given to Dick at 17. 

And it wasn’t like he could just force him to go back to playing with Toys, or make him stop all the habits that he was starting way too early (like his energy drink addiction). 

What authority did he have over the kid after relying on him to put him to sleep and to make sure that he was eating? How could he try and be a father to him, when every time he even tried to take back control Tim looked at him like that . 

Like a tired dad, dealing with an angsty teenager. 

It was eating Bruce alive. 

He’d failed Tim. 

Eventually, he gave it up. Accepted that Tim didn’t need a father figure, he needed a colleague. And Bruce could do that. Whether it was letting Tim help out with Wayne Enterprises (the kid was so smart, he was probably the sole reason profits had skyrocketed in the last quarter) or out on patrol. 

Tim wasn’t even so similar to Jason. Sure, he had the black hair and blue eyes, but all of his kids had that. 

He didn’t know why he kept on calling Tim Jason. 

He didn’t want to admit that somewhere inside him, he still wished that it would be true. 

But instead of getting his son back, he had failed yet another child. 

And still, he told himself that Tim didn’t want to be his son in the first place. That he wasn’t his father, that Tim had a better family at home. 

When he first came out of his depression and saw that the Drakes were on a long business trip, he assumed that it was the first time. It was probably exciting for Tim, having the house to himself. 

It was easy to ignore the fact that the Drakes had rarely ever been in town for years now, probably for longer than Tim had existed really. 

It was easy to tell himself that this was the first time Tim didn’t come along, when he had held the title of perfect attendance at Gotham academy for as long as he’d been at the school. 

Tim was so independent that it was scaring Bruce at times. Investigating his own cases not even a month into being Robin, writing reports with an amount of cold, detailed accuracy that reminded Bruce of himself. It hadn’t even taken two months for him to patrol separately from Bruce, and shortly after he’d taken up Young Justice. 

Like he was trying to check every box as fast as he could, hurrying through life as if he was a speedster running out of time. 

And time after time, Bruce found himself not knowing what to do. 

Once he yelled at Tim on patrol. Not because he’d done anything wrong, but because he hadn’t informed him that the Joker was near him while Bruce was on the other part of Gotham. 

He hadn’t yelled at Tim, not really. He yelled at Jason. 

”How could you do this? You died Jason, you died I can’t lose you again-”  

Bruce gave him permission to go off with Young Justice without his permission after that. 

Another time, he bought him a case of that damned energy drink whose cans were always standing around empty in Tim's room and let the kid choose any case he wanted to work on, with no interruptions. That seemed to be what he wanted to do, after all. 

The energy drink stood around in his room for weeks until upon being asked, Tim told him that he’d bought the not-sugar-free version, which Tim had never even tried before. 

After what was probably around an hour of brooding, walking through the streets of Gotham with no real purpose or sense of direction, he finally headed back to the cave. 

The closer he got, the more the realization of what he’d just done hit. 

Alfred was good, but he wasn’t a wizard. Dicks injury could’ve very well been fatal, considering the fact that he was brought to the MedBay way too late after it’d happened. 

He might’ve just missed the last moments of his first and last child. 

The first he’d ever gotten, and the last one that still remained in his care. 

It wasn’t like he wanted to give up on Tim. But after months of trying to be a decent parent to him, only to fail every time due to his own shortcomings, how could he expect any other outcome? 

And Jason?

Oh, Jason. His baby. The small child that was so sensitive, and so strong at the same time. 

What had happened to him?

What happened to the two of them? 

The answer, the one lurking deep in him, in the corners of his consciousness was clear. He had happened. The reason the Joker had been able to kill his boy in the first place was that he’d failed at containing him. 

He knew. Bruce knew that he had failed. 

But he couldn’t change his moral code now. Not when, had he not become batman, he could just as well have become another rogue. All of his kids would’ve probably become one at some point. 

They needed to be put away for the public's safety. But if he started killing, where would he draw the line? Just cut off the head of the operation, hoping that it isn’t another hydra like criminal enterprises tended to be in Gotham? Did he kill the right-hand men too, the lower level thugs? 

How long until he would litter the streets with bodies while their children sat on the side, begging for their parents' life? How long until he’d create an even worse version of himself? How long until he was the reason that a kid had to try and steal tires off the damn batmobile again? 

He wanted his son back, not to create another kid who had to go through the same tragedies that Jason had suffered.

Still buried deep in thought, trying to keep the tears away as best as he could, Bruce reached the MedBay. Alfred was already sitting inside, holding his son's hand. Dick seemed to be fine. Awake, at least. 

Slowly, almost too carefully he opened the door and walked over to the other side of the bed. Without another word Alfred left the room, wiping a silent tear off his face. 

“Where were you?” 

“Busy” 

It wasn’t the true explanation, or in fact, any explanation at all, and they both knew it. But Dick just silently accepted it, moving past the fact that his father had rather done god-knows-what than sit at his side. It was fine. He’d always been able to look past his emotional constipation, not needing Bruce to tell him how much he loved him. 

He showed it in his own way, even if that meant arriving an hour late because he couldn’t stand to see Dick hurt. 

It was like their own secret, quiet language. And somehow, it worked most of the time. 

Except for when it didn’t. 

“Where’s Tim?” 

“I left him with Jason” 

“Why would you- B that’s my brother you can’t just leave him there, I know Jays great and I do trust him but Tim is a whole child-” 

“He’s better off there” 

Silence laid between them, Dick looking at Bruce as if he’d just told him that the sky was vomit-green. 

“How could you say that, you’re his father! And what about Jay, why isn’t he with you either!?” 

“I’m sorry” 

Chapter Text

Kon flew back home, more slowly this time. It was already late morning, and he really wanted to get a slice of that apple pie before it was all gone. The only reason he still had a chance at that was that Clark was in Metropolis right now, probably typing up another Superman interview. 

But even though Kon tried really, really hard not to think about what had just happened, he couldn’t simply ignore it. The image of Tim so vulnerable, so undone by his own pain almost seemed to haunt him now. 

Once he got home, he’d read the message. Maybe there was some sort of explanation in there. Sure, he trusted Tim to tell him eventually, but he’d also sent Kon that message. So, what could possibly be wrong with a little investigation? 

Especially if it meant finally understanding the mystery of the last few hours. Kon could really tolerate a lot from Tim, with him being a bat and all that honesty and openness weren’t exactly his strong suit. But this one made Kon's skin crawl with worry, and something about it was just so desperately wrong. 

Maybe it was just the shock of seeing Tim like that still lingering deep beneath his skin, rattling him to his bones and sending a shiver down his spine, despite the fact that he wasn’t really supposed to be cold like, ever. It still felt like it. 

He’d known things were bad, but being there first hand was different. Harder. Not that he’d ever tell Tim that, hell if he knew that this had impacted Kon in any bad way at all he’d probably apologise 500 times and never ask for his help again. 

And it wasn’t like it was hurting Kon. It was hurting Tim, and that was what therefore hurt Kon. But he’d be impacted by that whether Tim was suffering alone or with him. If anything, him being alone was probably even worse if he had to deal with knowing that Tim was struggling and not reaching out on purpose. 

Tim didn’t need to know how his struggles impacted others. He just needed to heal from them. 

Finally back at his room, he first went to change. Sure, he hadn’t gotten any vomit on him, but it was still just kind of gross after being sweaty in bed for multiple hours. And he was still in his pajamas, too. 

With his back to the mirror, he took off his shirt, eyes fixated on the one he already laid out for himself. Quickly he put it on, almost using his superspeed to do so. 

It wasn’t like he had any problem with how he looked. He just didn’t like not wearing something there, y’know? Shirtless was just uncomfortable, he really didn’t get why so many dudes liked it. 

The same happened with his pants, and soon, he was ready for the rest of the day. Finally. 

And once again, Ma’s apple pie had to wait. Truly, a tragedy, but Tim would always be his top priority. Even if the smell was going to drive him insane if he waited for much longer. 

It was just one message, right? How long could it take? He’d read it while eating, but unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed pie up in his room after the pie incident, and he also didn’t feel like potentially airing out Tim's life to all his family. Living with supers meant being real careful about privacy, even if said supers were probably getting their asses handed to them in Metropolis right now, whether in the office of the Daily planet or by some alien threat. 

Or by Kons dad. But that was a rather strange one to think about, even though it still happened more than he’d like to admit. 

Really, being a child of divorce from parents that had never even been married was hard. 

It wasn’t like Clark was really his father either. Sure, Kon wanted him to be at some point. Sometimes he still questioned why the man of steel didn’t want him. But he had Ma and Pa, and that was much better than any rival-custody battle between Clark and Lex. 

Although he really didn’t mind the occasional gifts he got from the billionaire, even if they were sent in an attempt to get him to join his evil master plan of the week. A gift was a gift, and most of the time they were either useful or really valuable. 

Finally, Kon sat down on his bed, opening his chat with him to the message. It was… long. To say the least. Long enough to not fill out the whole screen.

~~~

Hey, Kon. 

First of all, please don’t worry. Don’t come searching for me. It’s not your fault, and you can’t change any of what’s happening now. 

By the time you’re getting this message, I’m dead. 

~~~

Wait, what? For just a moment, Kon's heart started racing, panic building up in his chest. But after checking the time it was sent, he realized that hours had already passed. Time that he’d spent by Tim's side, holding him, comforting him. 

He wasn’t dead. Whatever had happened to make him send this, it didn’t work. 

Really, it was obvious now. Every piece fit together nicely, forming a picture that Kon simply did not want to see. 

Tim tried to kill himself, and this was his goodbye letter to Kon. Jason must’ve gotten one too. Had he sent both of them the same one, just with different names on top of them? 

He’d probably only be able to figure that out by reading it. Although Kon really did not want to. 

Tim had survived after all, right? He’d called for help. He’d done the things he’d been told, reached out and dealt with what was going on. Why drag this on now? 

But the answer to that was already clear. Because even though Tim had done better than the last time, he’d still reached out after attempting. 

If Kon was right with his suspicion, he hadn’t been called to save Tim's life. He was called to be there for him after all of it. Which was fine, really, he’d always be there for Tim in any situation. 

But it also meant that Tim hadn’t really stopped himself from dying at all. 

~~~

I’m sorry for leaving you this way. I’m sorry that we didn’t have enough time for frankly anything. I'm sorry for not being the amazing boyfriend you deserve. 

~~~

Kon had to stop again. Yes he was supposed to read this so he could understand or something like that, but it hurt like hell . He didn’t want to hear Tim's worst thoughts spread out for him, laced with meaningless assurances of it not being his fault. It was just so wrong , because there was almost no person he admired like he did Tim. There was no one as strong, as smart and simply amazing as him. 

After trying to force himself a couple times more, he simply gave up. He couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Tim crying in his arms or choking his guts out over the toilet bowl was still fresh in his mind, almost haunting him every time Kon closed his eyes. 

The message would still be there later, and Tim would be as well. Kon had no doubt about that after seeing him practically fighting for his life for hours without even once attempting to finish himself off. He wouldn’t go through all of that agony just to throw it away now, would he?

But he already had once. 

And still, Kon was certain that this had been different. That somehow, in the giant leap backward it was, a few steps forward had been taken too. At the very least, he trusted Tim, even if that meant waiting for his call until he was ready to let himself get help. 

Or at least that was what Kon told himself so that he could move on with his life instead of sitting there, utterly helpless. Because really, what could he do, even if he was wrong about all of that? Watch Tim 24/7? Put him in some kind of Institution? 

Neither of those were really an option. Trust was the only thing that could work. 

Trust that the person he loved most wouldn’t try to jump to his demise a third time. It was ridiculous, frankly. He had no reason to trust that. 

And still, he did. Even if reassuring that trust would mean listening in on Tim's heartbeat and texting him more, it was still something. The only thing he could do. 

Quickly, he shot Tim a text asking how he was, but he didn’t expect an immediate answer. Even if he was driving home by car, the way home would probably take at least another ten minutes for him. 

Which finally freed him up to get himself the biggest slice of apple pie that he could possibly cut. 

A while later, Kon got called by Clark. Apparently there was actually some alien Invasion over in Metropolis, and it wasn’t a giant threat, but he was still needed. Great, there his plans to sit on the bed and play video games after finishing his chores went. 

But of course he quickly put on his shirt and studded jacket, leaving the pants as they were. On his way out he grabbed the boots and glasses, looking in the mirror as he walked toward the door. 

He always felt a little better seeing himself when he was Superboy than he did when he was just himself, and still, somewhere in him he felt a sharp tug, the pain disappearing just as fast as it had come. 

The name Superboy had always been a bit… special. It wasn’t what he’d have chosen for himself if given the chance to. Sure, he aspired to be like Superman, and especially in his early days that was a bit complicated, but still, they could’ve given him his own name goddamn it. 

Super-boy. Kon liked to think that his only issue stemmed from the first part of the word. It was easier to ignore the nights he laid awake, horrified by the thought of one day might having to take the name of Super- man . 

He was pretty sure that he was supposed to be a Kryptonian boy, a man one day. He was even more sure that Clark had never once thought about what life would be like if he wasn’t a boy. Not a girl, either. 

Just… Kon. 

There wasn’t much time to think about it now. Quickly, he rushed over to Metropolis, helping clear the threat. It was routine, nothing new, nothing special either. The only thing that somewhat stood out was that on one of the pieces of Alien-tech, Kon found the Lexcorp logo. Which could mean nothing, since Lex was notorious for funding anything that attacked Superman. 

Or it could mean that in some way, this was building up to something else. Perhaps he was using the aliens as a distraction while working on something else? Whatever it was, Kon left right after the invasion was defeated, leaving Superman to deal with whatever the bald billionaire was planning now. Kon wanted nothing to do with that one-sided homoerotic obsession, even though it was the entire reason for why he even existed. 

Back home, Kon briefly hesitated to take the suit off again. Somehow, he felt safer when his eyes were hidden by his shades and the baggy but cropped jacket just… 

It was nice. Really, nice. 

And at the same time, it felt awful. Because this was the superboy suit. 

Super-boy. 

Boy.  

It felt like this pent up storm, finally breaking down over his head when he accidentally looked back at the mirror, and everything just shattered . 

Because who he saw was beautiful, he liked that person. But they clearly were not a boy . The way the jacket fit on them looked accentuated the bits of chest they had, and Kon loved it. The way their jeans hugged their body, the shades making their face neither definitely female nor male-

Kon hated it. Not because it didn’t feel like a blessing sent by a damn god, hell he doubted that he’d ever really experienced this kind of intense joy before. It felt amazing, and he wanted to cry right then and there. 

But he also knew that this was wrong . That he wasn’t supposed to feel this way, and that he couldn’t . This wasn’t built for life, it was one moment. 

Another one of those moments he’d have to pack up neatly and store it away in the furthest corner in his brain, trying to ignore that it had ever happened in the first place. Kon was so sick of it. Sick of reaching for the sun only to fall the moment before he could touch it. But what else was he supposed to do? 

He’d just unpacked a few of the old memory boxes a few months ago when Tim had come out as bi, prompting Kon to do research on it. And suddenly, it had made sense, and he was allowed to be more than a player who never got attached to any girl because it just didn’t feel right . 

It wasn’t like the people around him hadn’t been accepting as hell, they just had never even thought to mention it. The longer he lived with the Kents, the more he realized that there were a lot of things not inside his programming that a teenager of his age was supposed to know. And to everyone around him they were simply so blatantly obvious that they often didn’t even think about the possibility of Kon never having heard of it. 

Kon already stood out, way too different from the norm. He was half alien, for fucks sake, and now he was gay too and-

Maybe these urges to be… something else were just a mistake of his programming. A flaw in his ‘conception’. He didn’t know. 

What he was certain about was that whatever it was, he had to hide it. 

He, he, he. 

Almost like laughter, the little word mocked Kon, following everywhere he went. 

It wasn’t like he particularly disliked it. It was just… not all of it. Incomplete. 

Like Kon. 

Finally, he got up, tears slowly falling down his face as he took off the suit, switching back to his usual clothes, but he kept the shades on for now. 

Just for now. 

Just until he’d have to leave this room and start dealing with reality again. 

Chapter Text

Tim was absolutely not about to cry. Not at all. He simply walked out of there, straight into the bathroom, and took a deep breath-

The sobs came rattling through him before he could even really realize what was happening. They tore him apart, piece by piece until he found himself a mess on the floor, not even breathing properly anymore.

Someone was knocking on the door that he was leaned against. Jason. Of course. 

“Tim please let me in” he sounded shaken, almost on the verge of tears. Oh, right. Tim had just locked himself in the bathroom and started loudly crying his eyes out, that was-

Yeah, Jason had every right to be worried sick. Before Tim could reconsider and even think about getting a razor blade, he had already opened the door. Better to act than to think when your thoughts lead to stupid actions, right? 

A moment later, Tim found himself in the tightest hug that he could take without being squeezed to death while Jason was babbling out a never-ending stream of “are-you-okay-you’re-okay”-s. A silent tear fell onto his shoulder, and he took a tiny step back to evaluate the situation. His eyes were still red and puffy, not letting the stream flowing off his face break off for a moment. Jason was only slightly crying, looking like he’d just run an emotional marathon in some strange way. 

“I’m okay, I promise” 

“You don’t have to be” 

“I mean- physically. No y’know” 

“Good. I’m proud of you”

Tim just nodded, not knowing where to go from here. Jason had just as much of a right to be affected by this as he was, but he was barely crying. Probably because he was trying to be there for him. Fuck Tim felt guilty. 

But he was also so happy that Jason was here. That he didn’t have to be alone with all of this. 

“Couch?” 

“Only if I get a coffee,” Tim added playfully. Obviously, it wasn’t a real condition. But what else could he do in this situation? Joking around felt natural. Normal. Unlike anything else that was happening right now. 

“I’ll do you one better, I finally got that energy drink you asked for” 

Thinking back to what had happened only a few hours earlier, Tim shuddered at the thought of drinking that again. No, it was too early for that. 

“I’ll take coffee. Just today” 

Jason looked at him for a moment as if he was trying to figure something out, before turning around and walking straight to the kitchen. Tim went to his room to get his crochet things and then sat down on the couch right next to the kitchen. 

“Coffee it is. But with milk and sugar, I’m not letting you drink it black after” he gestured weirdly for a moment, “all of this” 

“Ugh you’re the worst” 

“Aww, love you too Timmy” 

After a moment, Jason set down two mugs in front of them, both filled with a barely-beige liquid. A bit suspicious, Tim took a tiny sip. 

“Ohmygod Vanilla? Seriously? There’s barely any coffee in this” 

“Yeah Vanilla, it's good.” 

“You are not a coffee drinker if you drink it like this ” 

“Shut up you don’t even drink coffee either unless you can’t drink your beloved energy drink” 

“And when I do-” 

“Quit being a coffee purist and start enjoying the beauty of life dude”

“You mean this oversugar-ed Vanilla concussion?”

“Exactly” 

They were both laughing now. The pain of what had just happened wasn’t forgotten, still lingering somewhere around the apartment, but they wouldn’t let it get between them. Right now, life was good, even if it was accompanied by Jason’s frankly-an-insult-to-coffee-coffee. 

After a while, things settled down, and they put on some show to fill the silence. Neither of them wanted to hear their own thoughts right now. 

But, well, that was kind of hard to not-do when it felt like everything in Tims head was practically screaming at him. 

Benched until further notice . How could Bruce even like, notify him if he was with Jason? And clearly he’d given up on getting Tim back. Did that just mean that he would be benched forever? That he was fired from Robin? 

Probably. It was the only thing that made sense, really. And you best believe that Tim was searching for any other answer, desperately trying to explain Bruces words in a way that didn’t mean that . 

A way that wouldn’t contradict the very reason he hadn’t attempted twice this morning. 

But the message was more than clear. Tim was benched until he returned to Bruce, at the very least. And he couldn’t do that. Not without putting himself back into the same old life, the one that he’d almost killed himself twice to get away from. 

Either way, he couldn’t be Robin anymore. No matter if it was because he stayed with Jason or because he killed himself after being him for a couple of days. Robin was out of his reach now, gone. Ripped away from him without any question, any chance of ever getting it back. 

“Tim?” 

“Yea?” 

“Don’t do anything stupid, please” 

“What do you mean?” Tim asked, acting clueless even though he was pretty certain that he knew what Jason meant. Well, roughly. He wanted the details. 

“Robin- Don’t go off and risk your life or something because that dumbass took it away, okay?” 

“But what am I supposed to do now? Who am I without Robin?” 

“You are Timothy Drake. You’re supposed to go to school and be a fucking kid, y’know”

“I don’t want to stop being a vigilante Jason” 

“You don’t have to” 

“But- What do you mean? I can’t be a vigilante without Bruce, I don’t-”

“Well, you certainly have the money, Drake , and you have the experience” 

“My team-” 

“Is, as far as I could tell from literally every mission report, more loyal to you than to anyone else on this damn earth. I’m fairly certain that if you told them you wanted to start an intergalactic war, they’d help you with that too” 

Tim thought about it for a moment. Becoming his own vigilante. It was certainly an option, Jason was right about that. He’d have to set up his own base and all that, but it wouldn’t be that much of a big deal. After all, though he didn’t have Oracles skills, he was probably the closest to doing so out of anyone from the Bats. Hell, he’d even covered for her a few times when she was out. 

But it also meant completely giving up on Bruce. Dick. The Robin mantle. 

Everything he’d fought for in the entire last year. 

Was he really ready to work on his own like that? Sure, he’d have Young Justice, but in Gotham, he’d still be on his own. What if he needed backup and Kon wasn’t on earth at the moment? It was risky. 

“If you want- No it’s stupid nevermind” 

“No please tell me” Tim pressed. Any Idea could help him right now. 

“Well, you are still kind of, y’know” Jason vaguely gestured towards him “small. Young. All that. So, like, I’d honestly not prefer you go out on your own” 

“Why?” 

“Tim I- I died when I went out alone. And I technically had backup, at least I should’ve” 

“I’ve gone out on my own plenty of times” 

“And that’s not good! You’re 15, you should be protected by a mentor or something!”

Tim just shrugged his shoulders. Wasn’t like he’d needed that before. 

“What’s your point?” 

“If you- If you’d want to, we could work together. I know I’m like a villain right now, but-” 

“You’re not a villain” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Look, I have the data of every rogue in Gotham almost completely memorized. Based off your behaviour, you lean more towards an anti-hero, I’d say” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Well, you do kill people, and you do support the drug trade in a way, but you’re not doing it in the typical way of trying to make money off it. And as far as I’ve seen your plans since I got here-” 

“You went through my plans?” 

“You expected me not to? Anyway, as far as I can tell, you have the same intentions as Batman but without the no-kill bullshit.” 

“And that doesn’t disturb you at all?” 

“I helped you throw multiple people off a skyscraper” 

“Yeah but-” 

“Let me finish talking” 

“Okay, okay” Jason said, trying to lean back and calm down a bit. This was all a bit creepy, but also fascinating. The kid seriously had enough data memorized to tell the minimal differences between Red Hood and someone like, say, black mask? That is an insane level of genius. 

“The rates of drug overdoses in kids and teens has gone down by 15% in the last two months. You’ve been operating as Red Hood for how long?” 

“Bit longer” 

“Now, I’d say that considering all the facts, that drop can safely be attributed to the effects the Red Hood has had on Gotham.” He took a deep breath, continuing his little speech. “You aren’t a villain, you’ve done more for the kids of this city than Batman has in years” 

“I-” 

Tim gave Jason a moment, seeing that the wheels in his head were almost visibly turning as he was trying to formulate an answer. 

“So, that means, you wouldn’t like, mind doing this stuff together?” 

“I mean I don’t know what the Red Hood would do with a sidekick but sure” 

“Not as a sidekick” 

“Hm?” Tim looked up from his crochet project. He hadn’t really been concentrating on it while talking, but it was still nice to look at, maybe do a few stitches, just to keep himself from overthinking too much. 

“I wouldn’t want you to be my sidekick.” 

“Then what would I be?” 

“A partner, I guess? I mean, I’ve never even had a sidekick or a partner before, but I don’t see you as like, someone to command around. You are an amazing hero on your own” 

Tim's brain blue-screened for a moment. The person, the hero he’d looked up to all his life, the reason he’d become a vigilante in the first place had just called him amazing. Fucking hell. 

And on top of that, he invited Tim to work not as his sidekick, but as his partner . Side by side with him, an equal. That would give him all the independence he wanted while also having backup, and still being able to do things with Young Justice. 

Although he still wasn’t quite sure where he would fit into the whole solo-cleaning-up-Gotham and getting revenge shit, that was…

Everything he’d ever dreamed of, really. 

“I- Thank you.” 

“So, you’re considering it?” 

“Fuck considering, if you want me I’m in” 

Jason looked like he instantly relaxed at those words, as if he’d been fearing Tim's answer ever since the conversation started. As if it ever would’ve been anything but a clear, resounding yes. 

“Okay, but before you commit to this, how about we go through my files and all? So you know what you’d actually be doing in all of this” 

“Sounds like a plan” 

And just like that, the Batman visit from earlier was almost forgotten, and the future seemed to not be quite so scary anymore. 

After a lot of discussion, Tim giving his own input on cases that Jason had been working on for weeks (they were quite difficult, Tim was happy for the mind-workout), and lining out new goals for the two of them together, Tim ended up sitting down on the couch again while Jason was making lunch/early dinner. 

“You can’t go out until you’re fully healed, though” 

“Oh fuck you”

“I’ve got enough cases that I never had time to work on if you want those” 

“...actually I think this is gonna work just fine”

“Oh yeah, we still gotta get you a new costume and name, so if you want we can either work on that together or you can just tell me if you need any help with it” 

“How’d you get your name?” 

Jason paused for a second before answering. “I wanted to face my fears. So I re-used an old Identity from the Joker. Kinda like reclaiming it, y’know? Like using the thing that killed me for my own purposes” 

“Yeah” 

Facing his fears. Hm. 

What would that be for Tim? “Abandonment Issues” wasn’t exactly a name for a vigilante, or anti-hero. And “me, myself and I” wouldn’t work either if he was going for the ‘thing that almost killed him’. 

He still really liked the name Robin, but that wasn’t exactly on the market. It belonged to Bruce, after all. 

But in a way, Robin had almost killed him. It had been everything he wished to be and never could, and that drove him insane. 

“Red Robin” 

“What?” 

“Red for you. Robin for…” 

“Don’t you think you should be getting away from all that?” 

“It’s like you said. Something that almost killed me. I always wanted to be Robin, and it never felt like it really worked for me. But I can make it work now, I can make it me, I can redo everything that made me hate myself about Robin” 

Jason looked at him with that worried expression, and Tim really just wanted him to see what he meant by that.

“And what do you mean by ‘red for me’?” 

“You saved me, you’re the reason I’m still alive. I want to honor that” 

“You don’t need to honor me”

“See it as combining the thing that almost killed me and the thing that saved me?” 

“Poetic” Jason responded, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh shut up not everyone can read classics all the damn time”

“I doubt you can even read” 

“Fuck you” 

Jason took a deep breath before starting again, this time more serious. 

“I like the name.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really” 

Jason went over to the couch, two plates in hand. It was nice. A domestic kind of peace. It still felt a bit new to Tim, but it was amazing still. 

Later, they both continued setting up Tim's room, now with some of the stuff they’d gotten from Drake Manor. Although he hadn’t noticed missing it before, Tim was damned happy to have his stuffed Dino back. 

Jason also brought up the topic of Therapy, and somehow, Tim agreed to at least one first session to see if it helped any. Yey, progress! 

Eventually, Tim answered to the Kon he’d gotten from Kon, honestly telling him that he was a lot better although still not feeling his best. It was okay. He didn’t have to feel amazing right now, he just had to exist through it.

He also texted the Young Justice group chat, asking the team to meet up sometime next week. They had a lot to talk about. 

Chapter Text

Two days passed, and Tim either spent them with Jason, setting up his room, texting Kon or working on his new nightlife persona.

He’d also solved multiple of Jason's cases already, and he was quickly getting used to the whole setup Jason had while also implementing his own, since they both agreed that he’d be running the tech-based part of their operation.

Honestly, Tim was just happy to finally put his horrendously large allowance to good use to buy all the equipment Jason had refused to buy for himself because ‘who needs comms when they work alone’.

The design for Red Robin was coming along fine, although Jason kept reminding him to add actual armour. What did this guy know about a good style, really. Padded shoulders just looked awful, how was he supposed to fight with that!

They eventually agreed on a good chest plate, some protection on the arms and shoulders and some plateau boots (Tim wanted them because of his height, Jason wanted them because he could step on a blade. Both were happy). The main difficulty now was designing pockets to fit blades and other gadgets in without a utility belt. He always hated that thing, it was way too obvious. Distributing the different weapons across his body meant always having access to them, even with a very limited range of motion.

Oh, Tim was so excited to start working on the gadgets. Jason didn’t have many things in that range, only a few of the most important antidotes and some tiny bombs. But Tim loved working with them. Sure, his staff was great. Being able to throw gasoline that lit itself on fire was better.

Work distracted him from having to think. Which was great, really. It was easier to focus on what color he wanted his pants to be (black, of course) than to have to listen to his own thoughts. At least until he started therapy.

But today, he had something else to do too. Finally.

It was time to return to Mt. Justice.

Well, since it was kind of hard to get there without Batman's access to justice league technology, Tim just had to ask his super-hot boyfriend to fly there together. What a shame, truly.

He’d packed everything in a bag. The new costume design, a rough outline of his and Jason's plans. Everything to be put onto the table and discussed, and if he was lucky, he’d still have a team and a boyfriend by the end of it.

Kon wouldn’t leave him, right? Sure, he absolutely despised villains and wanted to do nothing but good for everyone, but Tim wanted that too. Gotham was just… different. Putting bad guys in jail didn’t work, because they had henchmen, and those henchmen had henchmen, and a month later the original head of the organisation was back on the streets anyway.

Hopefully, Kon would understand. Hopefully all of them would. This all didn’t mean that he was going to start killing people on their missions (as if he’d ever have hesitated if it had gotten necessary, let's be honest), it just meant that he was no longer working with Batman.

Did he still hold value to the team without his former mentor?

That was the big, looming question. One that Tim couldn’t even try to imagine the answer to yet.

But it wasn’t like he could change anything about it now. So he took a deep breath and focused back on his work, waiting for Kon's knock at the door. Of course, he could just TTK his way in, but since Jason didn’t know Kon but was almost as paranoid as Tim-

Yeah no, he very much did not want Jason to accidentally try to stab Kon too.

Soon, he heard the familiar knock, grabbing his bag and leaving towards the door. Jason was out doing something - he wouldn’t tell Tim what - so he simply left, the note reminding his brother where he was already written on his desk.

“Hey” he said, a smile already forming on his face the moment he saw Kon. As always, the slightly taller boy looked… amazing. To say the least. Well, he thought that, until his eyes wandered just slightly down, and-

Oh shit.

It felt like Tim's brain just started stuttering. Fucking hell, he could die right then and there.

A crop top.

Well, a cropped top. One of Kon's shirts, hastily cut a bit below where his chest ended, leaving his abs completely on display. And hell Tim was not complaining about the view.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this before. But somehow, the context together that Kon was finally his boyfriend together with the fact that it was a damn crop top made his cheeks light up bright red and temporarily put his brain out of function.

“Uh, Tim?”

“You- that’s pretty. Really hot- uh, handsome.”

Tim felt Kons hand softly cup his cheek, guiding his eyes back up to Kons face. Another majestic view. If Tim didn’t know that gay panic was a real thing before, he sure as hell did now.

“You like it?”

“Like? I fucking love it, you look amazing baby”

Kon was blushing now. He made Kon blush. It was so adorable. That was definetly a new goal in Tims’ life: making Kon blush as much as possible.

“Wanna go inside for a second? We’ve still got some time before we gotta go”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you the same thing”

“Oh~”

“Not like that- God Tim go brush your brain or something”

They both broke out in laughter, until Tim eventually gave Kon a little peck on the lips.

“Brush my brain? Really, Clone boy?”

“I meant like a toothbrush?”

Tim started laughing even harder, almost rolling over now.

“I don’t think you can complain about my eloquence when you were just stuck staring at me without saying anything for a solid minute”

“Not my fault that you’re hotter than the damn sun”

There it was. That soft shade of pink across Kon's cheeks, making his freckles stand out even more. Tim was addicted.

Finally, the two of them reached Tim's room. He sat down on the bed, pointing Kon to do the same.

“Actually uhm, I wanted to ask you for something?” Kon started, the laughter suddenly completely gone, replaced with a more scared but also flustered tone.

“Not like I could ever say no to you when you’re being this cute” Tim responded, trying to ease Kon out of any worry that he was having. Still, the super stayed tense as he spoke, words spoken carefully as if the next syllable could just as well shatter the fabric of the universe.

“I want to try eyeliner”

Oh. Well, Tim didn’t expect that. With the way Kon was hesitating, he was afraid it was going to be some grand devastating confession. But this was absolutely fine. In fact, Tim could help with that right this second.

“Want me to help you?”

“Can you put it on for me? I don’t really know how to-”
Tim had already jumped up and made his way to the bathroom, coming back soon after with a black pencil in his hands. Without much hesitation he sat down on Kon's lap, not caring that the position was a bit… special. It was simply the most comfortable for doing this, because Tim was not going to be standing there bent at some weirdass angle to do this. He already had enough back problems from the shrimp-like position he sat in when he was working on something.

“So, just the basic waterline or do you want a wing?”

“What?”

“Waterline is what I do, like just so that you basically have an outline. A wing is more when it goes outside of the eye- I can try to find a picture on pinterest if you want me to”

“Waterline’s fine for now”

For now. Tim was pretty sure that he’d die right then and there if he ever saw Kon wearing winged eyeliner. Holy shit that would be so hot.

Carefully, he started outlining Kon's eyes. It was more difficult than when he did it on himself, not only because the position was different but because of the way he usually did it. He simply put the pencil in the corner of his eye, closed it and moved the thing around a couple of times. It was messy, sometimes he stabbed himself in the eye, and as a result his eyeliner was always completely flat from using it on the same sides constantly. But it gave him that messy look he really liked, and it was efficient.

That wasn’t enough for Kon though. He was trying his best to be gentle and precise. While messy eyeliner would definitely look so good on him, Tim wanted to give him the option of a more clean look first. They could mess it up a bit later if that’s what Kon wanted.

He should probably actually go clean his brain.

After about 5 minutes of very careful outlining (Yes, Kon couldn’t technically be hurt. No, Tim was not going to be any less gentle because of it), Tim sat back a bit, almost analyzing the result of his work.

Kon looked like a literal God. Not only because of the crop top, but just… all of it. The dangling star earring he was wearing on his right side, the spiky bracelets, the single silver necklace, and now, the eyeliner.

It framed his eyes perfectly, giving them that little something. Not that they’d been missing anything, it was just… wow.

Who could blame Tim for wanting to kiss his boyfriend silly when he was just there sitting on his bed looking like that.

The hand he still had placed on the back of Kon's neck proved very useful as he pulled the Kryptonian closer, kissing him passionately. Kon leaned into his touch, almost melting onto his lips as he let out a tiny, breathless noise.

Tim was going to die. He was certain of it now. Not because of suicide or something like that, but because Kon was literally going to burn him alive. How could one single person be this hot?

But to Tim's disappointment, Kon pulled back pretty quickly.

“How do I look?”

“Are you fucking with me? Hot, obviously”

“Is it okay if I go look at it?”

Oh, yeah. Tim hadn’t thought about that, too busy admiring the view himself. Awkwardly, he shuffled off Kon's lap, walking to the bathroom mirror with him.

Once they got there, Tim wrapped his arms around Kon's waist, which was just out in the open to hold fucking holy crop top, and placed his chin up on Kons shoulder, looking at his sweetheart in the mirror. Adorable.

Until suddenly, Tim noticed tears forming in his eyes. Tears. Kon was crying. About to cry. Whatever.

Quickly, with the hands he had helpfully wrapped around Kon, he turned the super around to face Tim. Away from the mirror, and whatever had made this beautiful angel cry.

“Hey- hey what’s going on?”

“I’m good” Kon said, but the crack in his voice gave away that he was very much not good.

Slowly, the tears started dripping down his face, each and every one of them caught by Tim and wiped away in an attempt to maybe wipe away the thing that was causing them in the first place too.

“Talk to me? We can wipe it off if you don’t like it”

“No!” Kon exclaimed immediately, now leaning a bit into Tim's hand that was still cupping his cheek.

“Then let me help you. Please?"

“I like it” his voice sounded a bit broken, but so undeniably happy still.

“I really like it” the Kryptonian added, and Tim was so unsure what that meant. He sounded happy and sad at the same time, and he was crying but still smiling at Tim like he was the most precious thing in the whole world.

But Tim didn’t want to push further. Kon would tell him what was going on, eventually. Urging him to do so now would probably do more harm than good. Gently, he pulled Kon into another kiss, more tender and soft this time around.

“I love you”

“Even when I’m crying over stupid things?”

“Especially then”

Kon leaned into him further, and Tim would never get over how incredibly adorable he was. Who could’ve thought that a guy practically made of muscle in reality was just the world's cutest teddy bear?

Tim, actually. Kon had always been kind of like this, even when they were just friends. Cuddling was always an important and scheduled part of their sleepovers (Kon said it was because Tim was touch deprived. Tim said that it was because Kon was warm and Gotham was, well, not. Both of them weren’t wrong, but not entirely wrong either), and Tim was so happy that he got the full package now.

After all, who wouldn’t want to cuddle their super hot alien boyfriend and kiss his tears away at the same time?

“Do you want me to redo it later?”

“Yes please”

A while passed, and Kon stopped crying eventually, somehow looking at Tim with even more love in his eyes now. If he wasn’t already feeling all weird inside, he would now, because damn.

“I love you too”

“Good to know,” Tim said, moving his hands down and stopping at Kon's waist, holding onto it. He could feel Kon's abs under his thumbs, the skin there completely exposed because of the crop top.

“You should wear this more often. If you want to. No pressure or anything I just-” Kon giggled at Tim's clear struggle to communicate what he was thinking. Tim just buried his head in his shoulders out of embarrassment, trying to hide his probably neon red cheeks.

“I like it”

“You like my abs”

“No- that too, yes. But not just that!” He started again, trying to sound more serious this time. “It looks good on you. Feels… like you?”

Kon was blushing again. He just kept winning today, hm? But how could he not with a boyfriend like that?

“Thank you” it was more a whisper than anything, almost as if Kon was scared to say it fully out loud. Adorable. Worrying. Something he’d have to figure out before it consumed Kon from the inside, because it was definitely eating away at him in some way.

But not today. They still had a meeting to get to.

Fuck, they were supposed to be there in like, 7 minutes?

“I’ll fix up your eyeliner real quick, can you TTK my bag here? Left it in my room”

“Tim if you do the eyeliner we’ll have to speed there-”

“We gotta do that anyway, you might as well feel confident while you do it”

“But-”

Kon always had his reservation about using his superspeed when humans were involved. Tim thought that it was stupid, frankly. He could handle it.

“Yes, sunshine, I’d love to be carried around in your arms for longer too. But I like it even more when you’re happy with how you look, so we’re doing this first. If you still feel bad about it then we’ll just be a little late”

That convinced Kon, somehow. Damn, Tim must be doing something right if Kon was overcoming his stubbornness this fast.

Applying the eyeliner got a bit easier now, and only a few minutes later Tim found himself high up in the air, Kon's arms around him and pressed up chest-to-chest to the Kryptonian.

He wasn’t lying when he said that he’d love spending a bit more time like this. But right now, they sadly did have things to do.

Like potentially risking all of Tim's friendships and his relationship.

Fuck, he’d completely forgotten about that part.

Chapter Text

They quickly flew to Mt. Justice, but due to Kon's anxiety about somehow hurting Tim with the superspeed (despite Tim reassuring him that Wally had been carrying Dick a lot faster for years now and Dick was fine), they still got there a couple of minutes late. It was fine though. That just meant a bit more time to try and distract himself by making Kon blush before having to face what was about to happen.

Jason had said that his team would follow him to the end of the world. But how far was that, really?

Was a hero who worked with an anti-hero still truly good? 

And more importantly, were they willing to risk that? Just for him? 

The questions grew louder the moment Kon sat him back onto the floor, as if the only barrier between him and his insufferable brain was the way Kon smiled down at him in his arms. Focus Tim, you really need to do this right now. Even if ‘doing this’ involves having to actually exist without any distraction to stop your brain from hitting itself with a damn hammer. 

Almost immediately, the silence was broken by a loud, shrieking whistle, followed promptly by an almost vibrating Bart right in front of Tim's face. Before he could even realize what was going on, he was already trapped in a tight hug and an overflow of questions that he couldn’t even begin to think about. 

Well, that was certainly a way to silence his brain too. And to be honest, he’d missed Bart like hell. And Cassie, of course, but right now she wasn’t the one almost crushing his insides.

“Bart I’m Injure-” 

“Oh fuckfuck are you okay? You’re so fucking squishy man what the hell, how do you even survive when we fight bad guys-” and on and on it went, but all Tim did was hug Bart back a little bit more gently before turning around to look for Cassie. 

He would answer all of Bart's questions today, but first, he really wanted to finally see her again. It’d been way too long since he’d talked to any of them outside of a mission, and even then, missions had become way too rare recently. 

“Cassie!” he almost screamed when he saw her. His smile was probably way too big and crooked, but right now that didn’t matter much. 

Except, Cassie wasn’t as excited to see Tim. She had her arms crossed in front of her, tapping her foot as if she was a father who’d just caught his kid sneaking out. 

Meanwhile, Kon and Bart were all over each other, talking so fast that neither Tim nor Cassie could possibly try to understand any of it. Those two would probably talk themselves into a tornado one day. 

“You and Kon?” 

Oh shit. They hadn’t talked about what they’d be telling their friends like, at all. Did they even know Kon was gay? Would Tim out him if he revealed anything? 

“Uhh no, he just flew me here because-” 

“Oh shut up I’m just kidding. You know how many times I begged him to finally ask you out? He was fucking insufferable about you” 

Tim just stood there for a moment, completely silent. Well, he felt more like he was silenced. Kon, being insufferable about him ? That majestic angel? Really? With his fuckass eye bags and rows upon rows of scars? The Injuries he got from every battle, marking him as an awful fighter, the most vulnerable out of all of them?

Well, yes, he knew Kon loved him. He just hadn’t expected him to be really, well… enthusiastic about it. 

It would’ve been a ridiculous expectation. Tim could never play in even remotely the same league as Kon . 

“Wait, you are actually dating right? Please tell me you are. Please for the love of all things holy I cannot take another month of you two verbally edging each other-” 

“We are, don’t worry” 

Cassie let out a deep sigh, relaxing instantly. 

“Fucking finally”

And with that, both of them took a few steps forward, falling into each other's arms as if they were following a well practiced choreography. 

“Missed you, Cassie” 

“You have no Idea Rob, hell man I’ve barely seen you in forever! What was going on?” 

“I’ll tell all of you later” 

“As long as you don’t do it again” 

After a few attempts, Tim finally got all four of them to sit down around the table with him. Well, he wanted to use the one they usually used for mission planning. Everyone around him was very much against that, because how dare Tim try to make this into a business-thing right now. They literally hadn’t properly talked in months. What the fuck, Rob?

So, they’d decided on the couch table. Bart was practically buzzing on the floor, Tim could feel the floor tiles moving. The only ones actually on the couch were Kon and Cassie. 

Tim could’ve taken place on the couch, but he decided on the floor instead. He liked it. Sure, it wasn’t the most comfortable, but it helped him focus. 

Maybe that was just because he had a bad habit of spreading all his work out on the floor and leaning over it like a damn shrimp. In his defence, the table was never big enough. 

This position was familiar. It helped him stay in the character of team-leader while he still had to be. 

Until either he got kicked off or accepted. Either way, he’d be just Tim afterward. Maybe out of the tower, trying to find a way home, or with a lot of luck, he’d be still right here, catching up on what had been happening with everyone all the time that he’d done his best to not interact with any of them. 

“Please Tim, you look like you’re about to explain the next mission to us. Please this was supposed to be a fun meetup, I really don’t want to accidentally kill Santa again-” 

“Well we can’t really kill the guy twice now can we?” 

“Stilllll” Bart replied to Cassie, waving her concerns off in favour of the dramatic sound that ‘killing santa again’ had to it. 

“Well, I would like to start out with something about Young Justice. So, if that’s okay, I’d like you all to listen to me and be serious for like, a few minutes.” Responding to Bart's loud sigh, he added, “It’s really important. Please?” 

Reaffirming nods came from everyone in the circle, even from Bart this time. With no complaints. Wow, they really must’ve missed him. 

Still, the next sentence was so hard to say. He had to pause, take a deep breath, shove away all the voices eating him from the inside for just a moment until the words left his mouth. 

“So, I’ve had… a situation with Batman. We don’t work together anymore” 

There it was. They might just reject him now, throw him out and get a new leader. Cassie would make a great one, actually. She’d always been the person he trusted most to lead the team if he couldn’t. 

And that might become reality far sooner than he ever thought it would. Because what was Robin worth without Batman behind him? Except, he wasn’t even Robin anymore. But that was the next thing he’d tell them. Small steps Tim, small steps. 

“Wait, what? What’d he do?” 

“Yeah, what kind of thing did the Bat manage to mess up for you to quit working with him?” Cassie added onto Barts comment. 

Kon silently reached for his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Of course, he was asking himself the same questions. He had pretty much no idea of what had actually happened, but he knew the outcome. 

Tim was, frankly, shocked at his friends’ questions. They didn’t even think about him doing something, or the possibility that he’d gotten fired. Which, in reality, was kind of the case. 

Well, that was something to argue about. Tim took it as being fired, Jason said that he’d quit for good reason (after all, benched until further notice does not mean ‘you’re fired’, Tim). 

But they hadn’t doubted it for one second, immediately jumping into blaming Batman. If he was being honest, it was a really good feeling. Because they stood behind him, hell, they were ready to shittalk the Bat for him at the drop of a hat. Just because he might’ve hurt Tim. 

What did he ever do to deserve friends like them? 

“It’s not- He didn’t-” 

“Like hell he didn’t” Kon immediately interrupted him. 

“Tim, you idolized that guy way too much for it to be healthy. If you aren’t working with him anymore, something's wrong” he looked at Tim with those knowing eyes, that silently reminded him that Kon had seen him over the last couple of days. Seen how miserable he’d been, heard him as he’d probably cried for the Bat in his half-asleep comatose overdosed state. 

“Okay- yes, something happened. But I have more I need to tell you, so can we like, do this after that?” 

He gave them all a pleading look. Really, he just needed to know if he’d still be around by the end of this. One minute longer and Tim would probably combust from all the worry that had quickly built up inside him. 

“And then you actually tell us what’s wrong?” Cassie asked, looking at him all like ‘I-know-you’ll-try-to-escape-this’. Hell, she could really be a bit intimidating at times. Well, more than just a bit. But if Tim started thinking that now, he might actually just explode. 

“If you still want to hear it” 

Seemingly satisfied, all of them settled back down, ready to listen to Tim. 

“Now, please don’t interrupt me for this part. I know, it’s all really complicated and weird, but I just have to get through it now.” Another round of nodding. Holy shit, today must be a really good day for even Bart to sit this still. 

“I’m going to become my own vigilante. Well, more of an anti-hero. Basically, I’m working with a relatively new Gotham rogue. Technically, he’s a villain, even though he really isn’t. Kind of just like Batman but with actual goals and the will to reach them” that dig felt good to say, and going off the reactions of his teammates, they seemed to be almost proud of him for bashing the bat. 

“That does mean that he kills, though. I personally do not have that many restraints against it, so that will probably become part of what I do too. I won't be a sidekick anymore either, I’ll just be working with him. But all of that does mean that I probably cannot be affiliated with the Justice league in any way, because I might, well, probably, will become a wanted criminal.” 

“Why are you even working with that guy? You could do all of what you want just fine on your own, and if not, you’ve still got us!” Bart said. Tim could tell that he’d held it in until he took a little break in his speech, and honestly he was fine with the interruption. It was adorable that the little Imp even held back in the first place. 

“That’s kind of a long- You know what no, you get to know that. So, after some things happened - Yes I’ll elaborate on that later - Jason took me in. Gave me a home, helped me get out, all that. So, after I decided to stop working with Batman, he offered me to be his partner because he doesn’t want me alone out in the field” 

“Tim, have you ever heard of stranger danger?” Cassie asked, sounding actually scared for him. 

“Yes- It’s not just that, like I said, it’s kind of a long story. But he’s trustworthy, really” 

“Mhmm. Kon, have you met him yet?” she added with an extremely concerned tone. 

“He’s scary but yeah, trustworthy. Somehow” 

“Okay, so, and this guy is the guy you’re working with? What’s that guy's villain name anyway?” 

“Red Hood” 

“Alright then, go on with your story” 

“I’ll be running an underground operation with him to clean up Gotham. My new Identity’s gonna be Red Robin. I can show you the suit design I have so far? I haven’t been going out on the field yet, because he Insists that I’m too injured, but I’ve been working behind the scenes” 

“Wait why are you Injured Rob? You mentioned it earlier too” Bart now questioned. Someone help Tim, he really wasn’t built for this conversation. As well as it was going, the anxiety kept streaming around his body, making him feel like he was actively drowning in his own thoughts. 

It was getting worse now. With every word he tried to bring out, it felt like his throat started closing up until he was almost choking on his own spit. 

They’ll hate you. They don’t understand-

You should’ve died that night . 

That thought had gotten more rare now, but it still always lingered on the back of his mind, reminding him just how unwelcome he was. 

Just how little he deserved the countless second chances he’d been given over the last few days. 

“Hey Tim- Timbo what’s going on?” 

“Rob are you- oh shit Rob what’s going on” 

“Tim- Tim please what-” he heard them talking, but none of it really got through to him. The only thing he could hear was the blood roaming through his ears, sounding as if he was underwater and truly, really drowning. Until-

“Robin, report” 

Chapter Text

Dick had not been okay, for well, a while. Sure, there’d been the stab wound. It was a bit hard to move around after that, especially since Jason hit him just right to potentially kill him. Kind of shitty from him, honestly. But apparently, he’d also been the one to call Bruce after, and he was searching Tim and Dick had also been worried so really, he didn’t know how to feel. 

All he knew was that he wasn’t ready to give up Jason just yet. Not because of this. He could stab him a thousand times over, and he’d probably still try to take him to batburger again. Like the old times. 

There were few things in the world that could deter him from getting his little brother back. 

And that was precisely the reason he’d not been okay. Because while he was stuck in bed, unable to even leave the manor beyond the cave because of his injury, Bruce was doing just about nothing . He even refused to talk about Jason, acting as if nothing had ever happened in the first place!

As if his little brother was still dead in his grave and not walking right in front of their damn faces, a living second chance. An opportunity to finally work on the mistakes Bruce had thought unfixable. 

As if he’d rather have it like that, casket sealed with Jason who would never smile again, never fight with him again still dead inside. 

It was driving Dick crazy. And not only that, but Tim! He’d thought that Bruce would at least go and get him back. Like, bare minimum. Hell, he could easily adopt the kid if he really wanted to! Jason wasn’t even legally a person, there was exactly nothing standing in between B and Tim!

But still, the man remained cold. Purposefully stupid. 

As if they’d only ever been a dead kid and the neighbor's son who came over occasionally. 

Dick was going to go actually insane if he didn’t find out what was going on with the two of them soon. However, going back to the apartment was really not an option. While he was willing to risk his life for his brothers, he doubted that it would help much if he tore a stitch on the way there and bled out on the road. 

So he kept watch over the places that both of them might be at. Well, he’d asked Oracle to bug them. Which always worked out great, because, duh, she’s Oracle. Not even Tim could find and disable all of her tech. He just had to sacrifice his share of Alfred's cookies for the week, which, while a great loss, was absolutely worth it. So far, nothing had happened yet. 

Well, a few red hood sightings. But they were difficult to track, and Dick already knew that Jason could take care of himself. Yes, he wanted to talk to him. No, he wasn’t worried about his safety. 

Tim, however? 

The kid was 15. And if there wasn’t some mistake in Oracle’s surveillance (which there wasn’t , she’s Oracle for fucks sake), he hadn’t even left the house in two days! There had been one sighting of a still unidentified blob a bit less than an hour ago, though. Looked like superspeed. 

And that meant either Bart or Kon when it came to Tim. Which, in turn, made it likely for the boy to hopefully be at Mt. Justice right now. 

Dick could go there. Yes, it wasn’t ideal to use the Zeta tubes when injured, but it was much more do-able than driving or walking. This was probably the only chance he’d get, although he wasn’t even sure that this was a chance at all. Tim might still be at some café or at the beach. 

But what else could he do? 

He’d been left completely in the dark, only being able to imagine what might’ve happened. For all he knew, Tim might just be dead. 

It had taken him a while to get zeta-ready. A whole new set of bandages, reinforced by a bunch of stuff. Bruce would probably have to restock the MedBay after this, but he’d rather have a fight with him than accidentally somehow have his stitches vaporize on the way to Mt. Justice. 

Once there, he followed the sound of voices. Tim was there, Kon Cassie and Bart were as well. All core four members of the team. This was either a mission or something important. 

Or, Dick silently hoped, a hangout. His little brother had been refusing to actually meet up with others for months, he really just wanted him to finally start meeting up with his friends again. Sure, Tim had never been great at socialising, but he had friends. Who he liked. Who he usually spent a lot of time with. 

At least he could stop worrying about that if his hope was proven to be true. 

Dick approached the room they were sitting in silently, not wanting to disturb whatever was going on. He’d let them finish, and then after that, he could talk to Tim. He could wait. 

The pain in his chest was probably just a side effect of the zeta tube. He’d be fine, the wound didn’t seem to have been affected. Although, he’d have to double-check that back in the cave where he could take the bandages off and actually look. 

Really, he was not trying to listen in. Pinky promise. He’d never invade Tim's privacy like that, especially because the kid was so protective of it. Hell, Dick probably didn’t know half the things he should know about Tim, but that was fine really. If Tim didn’t want him to know, he didn’t have to. 

Unless it was about his safety. Or where he was. Who he was with. 

It was kind of confusing, he could admit that. But he wasn’t looking into the things that Tim didn’t want him to know about. Just the necessary stuff. 

The things that no one knew about Jason right before his death. Things that could’ve saved him.

It was all going pretty normal in there. Tim was doing a lot of talking - which Dick was happy about, it usually meant that Tim was ranting about something he liked (he’d done it once or twice and Dick had been trying to convince him into doing it more often since) - and the others threw in occasional remarks. He was really trying to just listen to the sound of their voices, and not what they were saying. 

Which was going pretty well, somehow. Maybe it was the sound of waves filling his ears, making it hard to understand much of anything. 

But pretty suddenly, the tone in there switched up. From normal talking, it was now going to panicked half-screams, and Tim had stopped talking completely. 

Tim stopping mid rant wasn’t uncommon. In fact, the times he’d talked that much in front of Dick he’d stopped abruptly and for no real reason, apologized and simply walked off. 

But Dick hadn’t started panicking and screaming his name. 

Something was going on.

And before he could even really think about the consequences, Dick was in the room, assessing the situation. Tim was shaking, not violently, but close. Tears. Not streaming down his face, but right there, about to fall. His hands were scratching at his skin, the streaks already standing out in a pinkish-red color. 

There was only one thing that Dick could think of at that moment to stop whatever was going on. One thing that was guaranteed to stop Tim dead in his tracks during just about anything . 

He knew because he was the same. If Batman calls, you answer. 

“Robin, report” 

~~~

Tim was painfully yanked back into whatever this reality was. Report. He needed to report. 

“Still healing ribs, few scratches. Fine. Can proceed” he didn’t mention the still healing cuts on his thighs. He never did. Even when his brain started switching to autopilot mode once the two words were spoken, it was never mentioned. 

They weren’t injuries, or a reason to stop fighting and call for help. They were his stupidity, leaving its marks on his skin to remind him to be better. To be stronger. 

Less like Timothy Drake, the vulnerable child, and more like Robin. 

More like the person Bruce actually wanted, and less like a complete stranger. 

It took a few short seconds for him to realize that something was definitely wrong. Firstly, he wasn’t Robin. Secondly, he wasn’t out in the field or in any dangerous situation. This was Mt.  Justice. He was safe. 

Thirdly, the words ‘Robin, report’ had just been spoken here, in Mt. Justice. Where he was supposed to be safe. Safe from Batman. He’d walked around, disabling all potentially-surveiling technology that he could find. How did Bruce find him? It couldn’t be anyone else, it was the exact tone of growling, and who else would even know how to-

A rogue. Someone brave and stupid enough to imitate the Bat. Probably trying to kidnap Tim to get to him. How could they know that B wouldn’t care if they took him after all?

Great, so he had no Bat protection but still Bat-level danger. It wasn’t like he really had to worry about that usually, but there was a reason Jason had banned him from fighting-

Before Tim could even do anything or react properly, Bart and Kon were already gone. He couldn’t see where the two of them had gone due to the superspeed, but in all likelihood they’d thrown themselves on whatever poor fuck was doing this. Cass left right behind them, although once she got there, Tim had also been able to stand up and take the first few steps. 

It was a giant mess, and at first, Tim had absolutely no Idea who it was because all three of his friends had just started trying to beat him in a chaotic half-hearted attempt of beating the guy with an actual strategy. Actually, it was mostly just Kon throwing punches, Bart running fast enough to give them a concussion just by looking and Cassie trying to coordinate the two while also letting all those pent up anger issues out on them. 

He loved his teammates, but really, in moments like this he wasn’t quite sure if he loved them to death or if they would be the death of him. 

Probably both. 

After he finally made himself heard, they got off of whoever-it-was, and-

Dick. 

A Dick impersonator? 

A Dildo? 

No, this was the real Grayson. Probably. The bandages all around his upper body seemed to indicate that. Although, it was a bit extreme considering that the stab wound was multiple days old at this point, and Dick was well. Dick. 

Somehow, every Bat seemed to heal at thrice the speed just by the pure stubbornness of not wanting to be benched. Or they were just way too good at hiding how bad it really was. Either way, same result. 

“Tim, are you okay?” Dicks voice sounded broken and hollow. Like he could barely catch his breath between words, which was underlined by his chest rising and falling way too fast to be normal. 

Fuck. Three of his superpowered friends had just started going down on his - although still extremely skilled and powerful - heavily injured brother. It looked like he’d been able to dodge the absolute worst of it, but still, any hit in that state couldn’t be good for him. 

Tim was quickly proven right by the cough Dick let out, and even from a distance, Tim could see that something was coming out of his throat. Something dark. 

Blood. Dick was coughing up blood, because of him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t act, but his body still moved on its own. MedBay, the basic checks. It seemed to be just a gone-wrong nosebleed, somehow. 

But that wasn’t the problem. 

Dicks stab wound did not look… normal. It wasn’t anything that could’ve happened due to his teammates, this was different. 

It was just a gaping, dark hole. Not dark like blood, fresh or dried up would be. It was simply black . It looked like it’d been painted with one of those ‘blackest black’ colors, because there just seemed to be nothing beyond it. 

The only thing that gave Tim hope was that it didn’t take up all of the wound. It was just a rather small stripe right in the middle, where it was the deepest. But all of the stitches around the wound seemed to have popped open when it happened. 

It was bleeding. Tim should stop that and stitch it up. 

He wasn’t sure if he could do that with the black in there. Or if he should. The blood didn’t even pool on top of it, it just completely vanished the moment it fell onto it. 

This was bad. Really bad. 

Tim rushed to his room, pulled open the laptop and started searching. There had to be a contingency plan about this, a case of it happening before, just something that he could use-

But no matter what he searched for, how many times he went through the unusual medical complications folder, nothing came up. 

Absolutely nothing. 

His contingencies had failed him. They hadn’t prepared him for anything that happened over the last few days, he’d been freestyling life for way too long now. 

This was the moment in which Timothy Drake ran out of plans and options. 

And in the end, the panic of everything that had happened within not even half an hour caught up to him, and his brilliant mind failed him as well.

Chapter Text

It was like the whole hero community closed its eyes for a moment. As if the thing that had made them able to see, the light that had shown them the world they chose to protect had broken. 

The first one that came by was Zatanna. Called by Batman for an emergency after he had somehow gotten wind of what had happened. Tim wasn’t sure how, if he called him or if one of his teammates did so, or if he just found that out on his own. 

It didn’t matter now. Nothing did, really. 

After a short inspection, Zatanna could do nothing more but explain why. It wasn’t like she even needed to confirm much. 

The Zeta tube had put the wound back wrong, and in doing that, caused a small rift. A rift that was now eating away at the flesh surrounding the wound, consuming anything around it. It was slow, but not slow enough for them to find a cure. They’d try. Of course they would. 

But the stab wound was so dreadfully close to his heart. 

Without a miracle, the boy wonder would be dead by morning. 

~~~

Wally was next. The news had taken a while to reach him, but he did not let another five seconds pass once he knew what was happening. 

He couldn’t believe that it was truly his best friend on that white, sterile hospital bed. But everything checked out, it all pointed to this actually being real. The only thing that said otherwise was the slowly but surely growing black hole in Dicks chest, right under where his heart was. 

If Dick was awake right now, he’d make fun of him. His bleeding heart was always going to kill him. 

There were few heroes who were as kind as him. Not because of a moral code, or any kind of weird obligation. Dick was simply and truly good. That didn’t mean not being harsh on villains, or occasionally almost killing a man. 

It meant that he, in every way possible, took care of those who needed it. That he valued every life, so long as it was in any way justifiable to do so. 

Even when he let others' issues come too close, when seeing others suffer hurt him just as much. His heart had always been bleeding for others, his overload of empathy occasionally getting way too much. Maybe it was him trying to compensate for the things he’d gone through that no one had ever even noticed. 

Maybe he was suffering twice as much for others because no one had ever thought to even pay any mind to him. A golden boy, the brightest star, how could he possibly know any darkness at all? 

But bats lived in the night, hiding from sunlight as best they could. 

Few people knew Dick like that. He worked hard to maintain his image, not wanting others around him to lose hope. 

Because that was who he was to others. A true hero, the first child prodigee, and a successful one at that. Few child heroes ever turned out okay, but he had, and therefore, he was proof that all of them could do it. That it was possible. That fighting was worth it. 

Even when they probably should be going back to school, doing their homework or hanging out with friends. Dick knew that. But he also knew that being a hero was their only way out of an even worse fate right now. 

So he had to show them that it was going to be okay. That they could one day be okay. 

The boy had always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. A boy, that was who he was, really. A boy that had been forced into a man way too fast. Not by Batman, but by himself. He could’ve chosen to be Dick, a relatively normal boy grieving his parents. 

But normal had never been enough for him. 

And now, he was anything but. 

A living legend. Well, that chapter was close to ending. But he was a legend, now and forever. No matter how hard the world would try to forget, Wally would remind them. 

Tell stories of the boy who had flown without any wings, and still stayed in the air. 

A boy whose magic had been nothing more than the love he carried for others and the admiration he received. 

Wally wasn’t ready to lose him. He wasn’t ready to tell stories instead of experiencing them with him. 

They still had so much to do. 

All the hangouts they talked about but never got to do, all the movies they were excited to watch together once they’d come out. 

The dates Wally never even got to ask him on. 

He was supposed to be there for all of it. To grow old alongside him, laughing about bad puns and old inside jokes. 

They probably hadn’t even experienced all of the things that would’ve become inside jokes one day. 

He wasn’t even gone yet. He was right here, in front of him, laying like a fallen angel on the pristine-white bedsheets. 

They should’ve been soaked with blood. Instead, all of it disappeared into the black void in his chest. 

Wally felt almost like he was going through the very same thing. Because all his emotions had disappeared into his chest, bundling up into one aching hole of pain where his heart should be. 

Dick was supposed to have a future. He was sure of it. A lot of heroes died, especially the young ones never made it all too long. But not Dick. He was different. So alive , despite the trauma that had once ate him alive. 

But he’d healed. He hadn’t forgotten about it, hadn’t escaped it, but he had accepted it. A thing that was simply impossible for most others. 

He didn’t have a cape that weighed heavy on his shoulders, symbolising the weight he took on as a hero. He was free. 

Wally had always liked it more when he called himself a bird instead of a bat. 

Birds rose with the sun, sung loud and clearly, spreading the news of a new day beginning to the world, while bats lived in the night, never even being noticed by most. 

The young flash couldn’t help but try and make bad puns, hoping that somehow, Dick would answer. Call him stupid. Laugh with him. Anything . But he just laid there, still, slowly growing more cold as if he was already dead. 

Wally never left Dicks side. He sat by his side, holding his hand tightly, clutching onto it as if that would tie him to life. While usually he struggled to sit still for long times, to focus on things, he barely even noticed how long he was there, completely still, not a single noise getting through to him. 

~~~

More people came and went. Kori sat right beside Wally, trying to break him out of his trance and comfort him while tears were running down her face and her eyes slowly grew more red and puffy. 

No one had seen her cry like that before. 

She and Roy eventually left the room, but they stayed right outside, eventually coming in to check on Dick and bring Wally some water. He never drank any of it, but the gesture was still nice. Even now, none of them truly ever left Dicks side. He was their leader, the boy who had shaped all of them in so many ways. 

He’d never be alone. Not as long as they lived. Although, now they were all doubting if that would be as long as they’d expected. 

Strength was often regarded as the most important thing to be a hero. But as the hero community passed by Nightwings bed, almost no one left without letting their guard down for once. Letting themselves be vulnerable. 

Because this hero hadn’t been the strongest or most powerful in any way. 

He was simply the best of them. 

Babs came rolling in eventually, but she didn’t stay long. Couldn’t stay long. Whatever. She was still there, talked to him for a moment. No one blamed her for not being able to look at him like that. 

But as the time passed, one person was so clearly missing. 

So many heroes had been here, even those who’d barely had any relation to him. And still, the one that everyone expected to see never appeared. 

And Wally hated him for it. 

How dare he not show his face, or at least his cowl? Oh, he’d been so destroyed by his second son's death. Then why was he ignoring his first entirely now that he was on his almost definite death bed? How could he leave the child he’d raised alone now? 

He understood why Tim wasn’t there. He’d been the one to witness at all, and from how Dick and Wally had talked about him, was probably locked up in a lab with Zatana frantically trying to find a cure to the incurable. 

Although that thought did give him a lot of hope.  

This would probably be the last time he’d ever feel hope, really. 

Dick had said something about Jason being dead, but even then, he didn’t expect the guy to show up now. It sounded like a lot was going on, and although in any other situation he should still be here, Wally kind of understood it. It must be hard to watch your brother die after just coming back yourself. 

But Batman should be there. It wasn’t fucking optional for him. Who knew if Dick still heard, maybe even saw what was going on around him? Zatana's only explanation for him not being awake was the blood loss and a minor concussion. He could wake up at any moment, even if it wasn’t for long. 

And his father wouldn’t be there to say goodbye. 

Dick couldn’t be angry anymore, so Wally decided to do so in his place. He deserved someone who stood up for him, forever. No matter how long it’d been since he spoke his last word or how cold his body was getting, Dick deserved better than this. 

So much better. 

Wally had always had the utmost respect for Batman. Sure, Dick had shittalked him a couple of times, but it was all normal father-son banter. Well, as normal as it could be for two vigilantes. 

Until the day that Dick suddenly started sleeping at Titans tower and refused to go on missions. It had taken a lot of nagging to get it out of him, but eventually he confessed that Batman had fired him from being Robin and kicked him out. 

That was the day on which the Titans learned that Dick had never even been adopted. If their leader hadn’t stopped them, they probably actually would’ve tried to take down the damn Bat. Really, who just does that to their kid? 

Over the years, things had gotten better again, and even though Wally still doubted a lot of his parenting decisions, he’d started somewhat respecting him again. 

But this? 

His son was going cold in the hospital bed, and the man was nowhere to be seen. He’d even asked a few JL members, but not a single one of them had any idea about where he could possibly be. 

He couldn’t even begin to fathom the sheer amount of awfulness it would take to do something like this. 

~~~

Hours came and went, and way too soon, midnight rolled around. Then one am, two, the minutes just kept on flying by. The stream of people coming to say goodbye had died down, although a few of them kept returning occasionally. Babs attempted to stay for longer than five minutes quite a few times, but she ended up being coaxed out of there by Kori every time after she broke down sobbing. 

The world felt like it had suddenly been painted blue. 

The Titans were all still close by, occasionally checking in. Kori and Roy were still doing the same thing, sometimes sitting by him for up to an hour, sometimes talking outside. They all comforted each other in a way, but although Wally was usually the loudest out of all of them, he could not muster up the courage to speak right now. 

What was his voice good for if Dick wouldn’t be there to hear it anymore? 

Sometimes either Kori or Roy disappeared for a bit, coming back with an angered look on their face. Still no cure. 

No saving the pieces of them, all shattered on the floor, mixing with one another as they lost themselves in the sheer meaningless-ness of it all. 

Dick was probably the greatest hero of their time. But he didn’t die fighting, didn’t give up his life for some greater good bullshit. He’d just been unlucky. 

It was so unlike him, so wrong. It should’ve been in a battle. It should’ve been old age. 

They all silently agreed that if anyone asked, they’d tell a great story. One worthy of the man that was passing away so slowly and painfully now, not even able to defend himself as his own body consumed itself. 

At exactly 3.43 pm, Wally suddenly heard something. This time it wasn’t the creaking door, or the sound of footsteps. 

No, this time it was Dicks voice. 

Was he starting to hallucinate already? 

“Where’s B?” 

He wasn’t hallucinating. Dick was awake. His eyes only slightly open, but still his pupils were moving almost frantically, as if he was searching for something. His father. 

A father who would never come. 

Wally tried to say it, to explain what was going on, to talk to his best friend for one last time. But all he could bring out were broken sobs, shattered like he was, cutting through his throat like the prospect of this being the last interaction he would ever have with Dick cut through his heart. 

The best he could do was squeeze Dicks hand a little tighter. 

Soon after, Roy and Kori came in to force him away from all of it. They didn’t listen when he said that Dick had spoken, simply attributing it to him being a nervous wreck and sleep deprived. 

They all cried together on the floor to the MedBay, and still, none of them had ever felt so alone. 

Another Robin died that night. And once again, Batman was nowhere to be seen. 

Chapter Text

“How much time does he have left?”

“At least another thirty minutes. Two hours, if we’re lucky”

It was 3.50 am, and Jason had been sitting in the lab for hours now. The only other two there were Tim and Zatana, with Roy and Kori coming in every once in a while to check on their progress.

The issue was that there had simply been no progress at all. They’d gotten a closer look at the wound, identified its exact mechanics and all that good magically-scientific crap. But no cure. No hope.

Jason just explained that he was there for Tim. He was just a close friend, and wanted to be there for him. After all, his state of being alive was not exactly a commonly known fact, and he didn’t really want to change that. The kid really did need some emotional support, too.

And it wasn’t like he could just sit beside Dick and spend time with him now. Not when he was the reason for this.

His stab wound.

His brother, who was now dying because of it.

Why had he held back so much in that fight? Jason had shown no mercy, no reason for Dick to think that he had any significant advantage over him or something like that.

He knew the way Dick fought, and he knew that over the time that he’d been gone, Nightwing had only gotten more efficient. Stronger.

So why, for the love of all that’s holy, did he let himself get beaten up and stabbed?

It made no damn sense.

But what he was about to do didn’t really either. At least they’d be even after this.

“I’ll be right back”

He already knew that he wouldn’t be, but he didn’t want to worry Tim. The kid could not get involved with this. He simply wouldn’t let him.

First of all, he needed to find Bruce. But since literally no one seemed to know where he was (he’d asked Roy and Kori who were outside of the MedBay, and they’d gotten very angry about the old man completely disappearing the moment that Dick had gotten hurt), there was only one thing he could do.

Thank God that Dick hadn’t left his comms at the cave.

“Oracle, can you hear me?”

“Who are you and how did you get this?” She sounded sad and angry, even through the voice filter. It wasn’t the one she usually used when she was actively working, but of course she’d still be able to respond just as well.

“You’ll know soon. I need to know where Bruce is”

“What Bruce?”

“Batman. Bruce Wayne. Don’t ask how I know, please, just give me this information”

“I can’t”

“I know you know it. Please, this is about saving someone.” His voice cracked ever so slightly at the thought of Dick maybe actually dying like this. “My brother. You get that, right?” Jason added in the softest, most empathetic voice that he could manage.

It was playing dirty, and he could almost hear her suppress a small sob on the other line. But on the other hand, if this succeeded, she wouldn’t have to worry about relating to that soon enough.

“He’s currently out. I can give you his coordinates?” Success. Hah, he hadn’t lost his touch.

It didn’t take long for him to put on his Red Hood suit and sneak out of Mt. Justice. Because of course he’d brought it with him.

Maybe he’d hoped that he could just shoot the thing killing Dick if he just brought enough guns. But apparently, he’d be shooting at someone else instead. It wasn’t difficult to get out. No one was watching the cameras anyway, all too busy wallowing in their guilt and too-early mourning.

Just because the sun set didn’t mean that it wouldn’t rise again. But this was a race against time, and Jason knew it.

Thirty minutes to two hours. He’d already wasted 20 of those. But finally, he saw Batman in the distance.

This had to work, and it had to do so fast.

“Bruce.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re trying to find the League of Assasins, right?”

“Why would I tell you anything-”

“I trained with them until recently. I was in that damn pit myself. I know how to get there”

“And what do you want in exchange?” The old man's voice sounded like it had been turned to stone, cold and rigid. It was so different from the father Jason remembered.

“Isn’t my brother's life enough?”

“You did this to him”

“And you did this to me. Would you only save me if you got something for it too?”

Bruce didn’t answer that anymore. Instead, he walked off, showing his car keys to Jason for just a moment. The sign was clear.

He’d get the batmobile, Jason would get Dick.

Time for one last roadtrip.

~~~

Thankfully, Wally had left Dicks side shortly before, which made it so much easier to get the vigilante out of that room. Of course, once anyone noticed they probably only had minutes left to execute their plan considering that the literal flash would be after them, but it’d have to do somehow. They had to hurry anyway.

Finally, all the stealth training paid off as Jason scurried through the way-too silent halls, making it out somehow unnoticed. You’d really think that with this place full of heroes, they’d have better security, huh?

But with all their grief they probably didn’t really expect their dying friend to be kidnapped right under their noses. Who would even have the guts to pull that off?

The Batmobile pulled up right as Jason went outside. They were still perfectly in sync, huh?

Without paying much attention as to who was in there, he packed Dick in the backseat and pulled the seatbelt over his limp body before sitting down beside him. Someone had to prevent Dick from falling over, and there was no way in hell that he was sitting next to Bruce.

It wasn’t until a minute later when Jason started looking around that he noticed a fourth person being in the car with them.

Red top, green sleeves, the cape-

Robin.

For a second, he hoped, or maybe feared that Bruce had hired a new one already. Tim wouldn’t be able to take that. But the truth was so clear in front of him, no matter if Jason wanted to acknowledge it or now-

That was Tim. The haircut, the little scars on his arm, the way he could see his leg shaking even from the backseat.

“Bruce Tim is injured”

“He stole the car keys and wouldn’t let me drive unless I took him with”

“And you just let him!?”

“Jason, I’m right here. I wanted to be here. Dick’s my brother too, and he got this because he was trying to talk to me”

“Why couldn’t you just stay in the help you were helping there-”

“We both know that it was way too late for that”

Jason sighed. God, this kid was going to be the death of him one day.

“You aren’t going inside”

“Like hell I’m not”

The rest of the drive passed in silence, the air growing tenser with every minute. The only words said were Jason guiding Bruce on where to drive. They were definitely speeding, and he really wanted to say something because of Tim, but on the other hand, the thirty minutes had long passed now.

Any moment now. Every second, every unnecessary step could mean the end.

Jason wouldn’t put him in the pit once his heart started beating. Even if there was a slight chance of him still coming back if it was recent enough, he simply couldn’t do it.

Dick didn’t deserve to come back. Not because he didn’t deserve life - hell, he did so more than most of them - but because he didn’t deserve to be resurrected.

It was the worst thing to ever happen to Jason. He wouldn’t watch it destroy his brother too. A quick healing-fix was fine, but coming back from the dead was… different.

Wrong. Everything about it was so desperately, achingly wrong.

If Jason had a say, no one else should ever have to go through that. He didn’t know what the afterlife was like, but he couldn’t even count the number of times he had wished to go back there.

So they had to do this fast. No time to waste, no hesitation. The mission was simple.

Bruce would take on anyone coming their way. Jason and Tim would bring Dick to the pit. Of course, he’d fought about Tim coming along, but leaving the kid alone in the car would probably just prompt him to go out on his own, which would be even more dangerous.

He’d also insisted that he could probably fight the League of Assassins guards the best, but he was also the only one who knew exactly where the lazarus pit was.

So, his job was to run. Run faster than he ever had. Not for his own life, but for the life of his brother. A man that deserved someone much better carrying him, but here they were.

Every time that Jason felt Dicks pulse, he was afraid that the next beat would never come. That they might still be too late, that all of this would be for nothing. He couldn’t even start to imagine what that’d truly mean for all of them.

Finally, they got to the League's base. Only a few minutes now. Hold on Dick, we’re getting you out of this.

There was only one other reason that could make Jason consider working with Bruce, and that reason was running right beside him, occasionally pushing guards away with his staff.

He could just as well lose both of them tonight.

The floors were littered with guards. Or at least it felt like it as he ran through them at a speed that he couldn’t have even imagined previously. All too soon, he couldn’t even see Bruce anymore, probably having caught up in a fight with some poor soul that would regret breathing by tomorrow.

But it was fine, they were still doing fine. Dicks pulse was fading under his fingers, but that could also just be because he was running and not able to feel it properly. Right?

Right?

They were getting close, and the amount of guards chasing them was growing by the second.

One of them tackled down Tim. Jason stopped the second after he realized what had just happened, looking back on his little brother. He was fighting back like a Robin, fierce and unbreakable, holding his head high as if his everlasting hope was enough to win this fight.

He had to save him.

Dicks pulse was definitely slower now.

Jason was about to put Dick down, or somehow balance him on one hand in order to help, but before he could do that Tim shouted at him with a voice so angry, Jason could barely believe that it was coming from him.

“If you don’t save Dick now, this will all be for nothing!”

“But-”

“Go! Now!”

With that, he turned around again, picking his speed back up. Tim was strong. So unbelievably strong and smart, Jason had admired him even through his hatred back when this used to be his home.

He had to trust him to take care of himself now.

Finally, he reached the cave in which the lazarus pit lay, glowing green and horrifying. If Jason had any choice in it, he’d turn right around and never face it again, run away from the vomit that he could feel coming up his throat the moment he laid eyes on it.

But this was for Dick. For Tim. The sooner he could get this over with, the sooner he could go back to get him.

The thought of him fighting out there all alone while still struggling with his rib injury terrified Jason enough to keep him moving.

Everything in him seemed to want to twist away from the pit, every single one of his scars feeling like they’d been lit on fire as he stepped closer toward it.

Dicks pulse was rapidly declining, he could practically feel his brother fading away in his arms now.

One step left. And then, Jason was there. He just had to lower his arms and set the limp body of his brother into the slimy, disgusting green goo-

One heartbeat. He couldn’t feel anything where the next one was supposed to be. Maybe just a mistake, maybe he’d felt it wrong, for sure, this wasn’t actually it.

Jason put the body down before he could think too much about it, recoiling from it as if it was actively beating him the moment he lost contact.

And still, he stayed for a moment. Waiting for a twitch, a blink, a dramatic rise. Anything. Anything that’d give him a reason not to fight when it felt like his insides were actively eating each other.

It didn’t come, and Jason didn’t have the time to wait anymore. Every second meant another chance for a critical hit, the potential for Tim to be taken down entirely.

He’d never been a good runner, but now it felt as if he had wings under his feet, carrying him along without any pain or exhaustion. Although he was sure that he’d feel all of it later.

But when he got to the spot where he’d lost Tim, there was no red-green vigilante there. The only proof that he was there at one point were the bodies around, beaten to a pulp, and the staff that laid in the middle of it. Almost like a sick clue in a mystery game.

He was too late.

No, he couldn’t be. Tim was still here, somewhere. He just had to find him.

Would he lose them both tonight?

Pulling out his gun, he grabbed one of the guards still standing there, holding it right to his temple.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t-” the bullet hit his brain before he could even finish the sentence.

The next few guards fought back more, but he cornered each of them. Their life was over the moment they couldn’t answer them.

They didn’t deserve it anyway.

And suddenly, everyone around him was gone. Jason ran around, frantically searching every floor, screaming Tims name until the halls echoed it back to him so much that he wasn’t even sure if it was him screaming anymore or if the walls had started doing it for him.

After hours of running around, tears streaming down his face and a road of blood following every path he’d taken, he broke down.

He wouldn’t find him. Tim was gone.

Taken by the league of assassins.

He lost them both tonight.

He lost them both tonight.

He lost everything tonight.

~~~

Jason didn’t know how much time had passed since he broke down, his legs giving out from under him and his tears blurring out his vision wholly. Until suddenly, a hand briefly brushed his shoulder.

He turned around, the gun he’d held the entire time, safety still off ready to fire. He hadn’t been sure why he kept it that way, if it was to kill off any guards coming his way or if he was preparing to join his brothers once and for all.

But behind him was a boy much like him.

With black hair and green eyes.

Chapter Text

Jay?” 

“What am I?” 

“ Who am I?” 

It was horrifying. He was alive, but he felt wrong . Like he’d been broken and put back together, the glue still spilling out of the edges. Was the man in front of him even his brother? He had the white streak, the fainted J-scar, but he looked so broken. 

Jason had always been strong, before and after his supposed end. Only in death had he been broken. 

Was that the answer? Had he died, and was meeting Jason in the afterlife? Maybe he had some special ties to that after being dead and all. 

It was so dark. He must be in hell. 

But he could feel his heart beating, his blood flowing through him in an almost uncomfortable way. He could feel the scrapes he’d gotten from crawling out of that goo on his hands bleed. 

Do dead people bleed? It’d make sense in hell. A good torture method, certainly. But he had a pulse. Was that just to keep the blood going? 

Or was he still alive? 

“Dick?” it sounded familiar. Was that his name? The answer to what he was?

Dick? 

“Make it stop” he demanded. This was his brother, he knew that. He also knew that every fiber of his body, every part of his very being felt like it was on fire, as if it was being torn down completely. If it didn’t stop soon, he was sure that he’d go insane. 

“I’ll get you home” 

“No! Make it better! Make me better, please” 

He was sure that the amount of breaths he had was numbered, and that he was running out rapidly. That his airway was closing up, and he would soon forget how to even use it as mind-numbing bright flashes of pain throbbed through his brain. 

“I’ll, don’t worry” 

How he got from that dirty, stinking cave to this kind-of familiar environment was a mystery to him, but his throat felt even worse after. Probably a lot of screaming. 

Jason paced around endlessly, while all he could do was stand there on his tippy toes, desperately trying not to touch anything at all. His legs were  sprawled out weirdly, and his arms were kind of hung up in the air- but not held up to shoulder level, because the skin there would crease and then touch itself. 

Every breeze felt horrible, even the feeling of his nails being attached to his fingers was starting to make him feel sick. The pain slowly settled in a bit, not leaving, but becoming less of a blindingly-bright flash and more of a constant, more normal light. 

“Alfred, where’s Bruce?” 

“I believe that he is busy tending to another child.”

“Tim?” 

“No, if I recall correctly I have not seen Master Timothy in quite a while. Would you like me to help you out with Master Dick?” 

“I don’t think you can Alfie, but thank you. Please ask Bruce to come here like, immediately” 

It all seemed so far away, Dick could barely hear them talking. But they were talking. About him? Bruce?

That name (Word? Name?) felt safe, but differently than the kind of safety Jason seemed to have attached to him. 

The memories felt so damn close, and way too far away at the same time. Like the pain had ripped them from him and was now dangling them in front of his face. Maybe, if he could just see that Bruce guy, it’d come back? 

He’d thought the same about Jason. The person he’d seen run away from him. Surely, he’d be the answer as to what was going on, right? But he was still stuck like this, internally screaming while not being able to get another noise out of his raw throat. 

“Bruce I don’t- Please tell me you know where Tim is, also Dick’s not okay and I don’t think I should be the one to help him” 

“You don’t have Tim?” 

“No I- Bruce please you have to know don’t you have some tracker on his suit please”

“He disabled that when he ran away.” 

Dick just wanted to cry, but nothing came from his eyes, and even if it did, he was sure that tears would only cause him more pain. 

“Hello, you must be Grayson?” 

A child. Did he know that one? At this point, he had no Idea about if he knew any of these people. But he didn’t remember a name for this one-

“I’m the real son. So if you would step aside, you are looking very unsightly right now”

What even? What son? What was this kid on about? 

Suddenly, he was just pushed to the side. The hand that touched him was painful, burning, more than he could handle without completely breaking down. And there it was, the walls that had kept him trapped like this broke, and he started sobbing, because the floor was touching him everywhere now and it hurt and he felt so alone, like he was trapped in his own little universe and no one could reach him ever again. 

The green flooded his vision, and all he could think about was just how trapped he was, because even though this damn of stored-up emotions had broken now, the pain seemed to go nowhere . It only flowed through him even faster, as if it was amplified by the tears streaming down his face. 

And he was alone . 

“Dick?” 

He didn’t respond, wouldn’t know how to. 

“Alfred, can you get some bandages? Oh and do we have sensory friendly blankets? Bruce get the demon out of here” 

“He’s not a demon-” 

“Would be surprised if he wasn’t with a father like you. Hey, ever thought of helping your kid here? Sure seems to be in a lot of pain” 

“I’m not good with-” 

Jason had stood up from Dicks side now, getting closer to Bruce with every word. 

“Well, yeah, I’m not either. In fact, when I got out of there, I started training almost right away. I still feel that exact pain he’s in right now. So, really, I have no Idea how to help him, and I’m the reason this is happening . But you don’t even need to try, right?” 

“Damian-” 

“I know Damian better than you do Brucie ” 

It sounded more like an insult than a name. An accusation, maybe. That Bruce was really as shallow and lazy as the billionaire playboy he pretended to be. 

“You know his pain” 

“I caused it” 

“You didn’t- Jason, how am I supposed to help? I want to but how do I help him? I failed him Jason” 

“The only one you failed tonight is Tim. Another one of your soldiers, probably being tortured or killed right now!” Jason sighed, turning around so that he wouldn’t have to face the still half-in-costume Bruce. 

“I’m pretty sure that Dick wants his father right now. Please, don’t let him end up like me” 

Silently, he mumbled something to himself that Jason would never hear, even though he desperately needed to. 

”Tim isn’t my soldier. I always wanted him to be my son”  

With that, both the boy that’d pushed him and Jason left the room, leaving him only with the slightly-shadowy figure. 

Bruce . B . 

Whatever. 

Dad . 

“How’re you feeling Chum?” he asked, his voice suddenly soft and caring. It was weird in combination with the armor he still wore, but somehow, it worked. Dick could feel himself relax just slightly. It wasn’t enough, definitely not, he still felt like he’d died and landed right in the pits of hell. 

He tried to communicate, but it wasn’t just his hurting throat, he simply couldn’t . 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. We’ll work it out together, just like old times?” 

What had happened back then? Vague memories of a younger Bruce, and the complete inability to speak flashed through his mind. A Bruce who’d sat with him for hours until he could understand what he was trying to say. 

A Bruce who sometimes started crying out of frustration when he couldn’t figure it out, because how was he supposed to be a good kid when he couldn’t even understand his kid? 

And then he would start crying too, because everything was still so confusing and he liked this guy, but everything was new and different back then. He almost felt like exactly that was happening once again.

“Lets get you off the floor, hm? You want some help with that?” 

He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be able to do it on his own, so he stayed still, hoping that Bruce would understand what he was trying to say. I can move, but I can’t do it alone . 

Even after all the years of being loud and proud, communicating better than Bruce ever could, his father still remembered exactly what was going on. Every little sign, he picked up on it, having learned each of them in great detail. This was his son, and he’d never forget how to read him. 

Somehow, they made it to the couch, on which Dick promptly collapsed. The pain was getting better, but all of this had still exhausted him beyond the limit that he could take right now.

“Alfred brought you tea and a blanket, do you want them?” 

That was how it went. Bruce asked something, sometimes barely audible, and Dick responded in his own way. It felt good to have someone there who would understand him, without a single word or effort from his side. 

This was his dad, and he’d always do his absolute best to understand him in every way possible. Everything around him still seemed more like a blur, and the couch he remembered as a blueish-black was suddenly a dark shade of green, but Bruce was his anchor in all of this, his hair still black as it had always been. 

It didn’t take long before Dick found himself in B’s arms, the very same position that he’d held him in all those years ago. When nightmares plagued him every night, and the world beyond the manor did not understand a word of what he was (not) saying. When B was the only person who was just as quiet as him. 

“I thought I lost you” 

It was subtle, but Dick could hear the broken tone in his voice. The broken man that hid behind all those masks, the man who had lost everything the moment his second son had died and gained only half when he came back. Not because there was anything wrong with Jason at all, but because the damage that had been done in that time could never be undone again. 

The man who was ready to risk everything to make sure that he saw the sun rise once again. The man who had felt so helpless about how to make Tim his third son that he’d messed up every possibility, making himself into the monster that he tried so very hard not to be. 

Dick knew him, knew that behind the walls of darkness, there was a Bruce who cared so deeply that every step of distance hurt him, a Bruce who ran away because he also believed that being in his proximity was just as awful for others as distance was for him. 

He also knew that Jason needed to see the cracks in those walls, that he really just wanted to know that his death had left its marks. But there was no evidence of that. 

Emotions were not displayed openly in this house. They were hidden in the cracks, closed off with tons of mortar and forgotten until one day, the walls would break down all around them. 

Tim had always been the most like Bruce. Yes, Dicks backstory was the most similar. 

But who else could hide behind walls upon walls as much as Tim and B? Both of them always running away, holding others close before pulling away again, a constant push and pull in fear of being left alone again. When really, they just needed to hold on to one another. 

They could’ve been the absolute best, and they could’ve been the absolute worst. They could’ve understood each other like no one else, or they could’ve always looked past each other. 

Maybe it wasn’t too late to try and reach for a better outcome yet. But Dick wasn’t the person who should decide that. 

Tim had been hurt, and he had every right in the whole wide world to never trust Bruce again. But if he ever wanted to change that, Dick was sure that B would be there. 

No matter how fast he ran, the man had never been good at letting go. 

Hours passed, and slowly, the pain calmed down, reducing to a silent buzz coursing through his body. Dick felt safe, and slowly, he felt alive too. But he didn’t move yet, wanting to stay in his fathers arms just a little longer. 

And somewhere in the silence, they found each other. 

Chapter Text

“Why are you here?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Where is my grandson?” 

“I don’t know.”

Tim's eyes were covered with some kind of cloth, his hands bound behind his back with a rope and knots that even he couldn’t untie. Same thing with his feet. He’d been kicked to the ground, told to kneel, but somehow he managed to get up again every time. 

A question, an answer, and promptly he landed back on the ground. He wouldn’t answer until he was on his feet again, looking at whoever was asking him these defiantly, even if they couldn’t see his eyes. He would glare anyway, even if it was just to prove to himself that he wasn’t done yet. That he could take another hit. That he just had to figure out the logistics of this place before attacking. 

There were at least five guards behind him when this had all begun. Even after they’d given him some kind of drug to contain him, he’d almost escaped multiple times.

Had Jason heard him scream? 

Was Dick still alive when the time had come? 

In the beginning of the questioning, there’d been three guards holding him down onto the ground. Eventually, it had just become two of them, kicking him down consistently. It did seem like they were switching, though, as the intensity of the kicks slightly decreased and then picked up completely again. 

That meant at least three or four guards behind him, probably more. One man in front of him, the one with the questions. He seemed to be a higher-up at least, so defeating him on top of all of these men was going to be… difficult. 

But what was hero life about if not taking a few risks?

The next question came sure enough, and once again, Tim said that he didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure if that was true or not at this point. Before the guards behind him could react, he turned around, instantly grabbing a small knife from one of their pockets. Studying the inner workings of the league and the few times their men had been sighted in their usual uniform had been worth it. 

He probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the Robin costume. 

Robin doesn’t kill. He couldn’t just ignore that. While Red Robin was supposed to show Bruce the flaw in his sidekick mantle, the curse he’d brought upon the children he hid in his cape, Robin wasn’t that. He was a symbol for the people of Gotham, a bright flash of hope. 

Tim couldn’t ruin that. Not even now. 

After stabbing the guard behind him with the knife, he started trying to cut open his restraints. This would certainly be easier if he could see and move his hands freely. 

A lot more stabbing happened as guards approached him, and he eventually figured out that kicking people wasn’t so easy with your feet bound. But it worked, and finally, his hands were free. With one, he kept fighting, trying his best to keep them off his back while not killing anyone. With the other, he pulled off the cloth around his eyes. Without a single interruption, he kept fighting, leaving his feet like that right now. It’d cost him way too much time to take care of that right now, even if it was a massive disadvantage. 

But as he kept fighting and stabbing, the number of people never decreased, and eventually he saw. The room was almost completely filled with guards. 

From the way they fought, these weren’t just any people. They were experienced. Trained with the league for their entire lives. That was why he couldn’t hear the breathing, the presence of so many people. 

And he was just Tim. Just the placeholder Robin. Not even fully his own hero yet. 

He didn’t give up however, fighting with all that he had until his suit was covered in blood and he wasn’t sure if it was his anymore, until he could see stars and reach into the bloody-red clouds of heaven.

“Make sure he lives.” 

~~~

The next time Tim woke up, he found himself in a hospital bed. For a second, he thought that he was back in Jason's MedBay. Had they found him? 

“Finally awake, boy wonder?” 

It was the same voice from before, but it had a more mocking tone now. 

“You know, I never would’ve thought that the detective would sink so low and give Robin to a girl ” 

What was he-? 

Oh . 

Tim panicked, quickly sat up and ran his hands up and down his body. Scars upon scars, the surgery ones nicely concealed under the mountains of self harm. His chest was just as flat as before. It was okay. It was just like before . 

Although he did find a new cut way too close to those surgery scars for his taste. It was still bandaged up kinda weirdly, as if he’d just been operated on there. 

That was when he noticed that the only thing covering him up was a thin, almost see-through white blanket. His Robin suit was gone completely, only his domino mask remained. 

“What’d you do to me?” he asked, trying to sound cool, collected. But really, everything in him was crashing down in mere seconds. He was naked. He’d been operated on. Had they placed something in him? A bomb? 

They found out. 

They knew . 

The league of assassins was the first to find out. After years of… everything, this was how it ended. 

Timothy Drake hadn’t existed until three years ago, when he hacked the city's records and changed his name and gender on all of his documents and then went to get reprints of them. When he had used Drake Industries connections to half-legal branches of the pharma industry to get himself testosterone, calculating the dosages and all by himself because he still had to tell them what ‘the doctor recommended’. When he’d tracked down that the best doctor for top surgeries in Gotham had an affair with his secretary, and blackmailed him into doing one on him. He’d waited until he was almost 14 with that, not wanting to risk any weird complications due to him still growing things. 

It was a long project, but Timothy Drake had been made from scratch, and eventually, he managed to convince the people around him that he’d always existed like that. All news reports were retroactively changed, all mentions of him replaced with his new name. 

His parents didn’t look at the Gotham media. They believed that he was simply a tomboy. He could fool a lot of people, but Janet Drake had always been in love with her little girl. 

Janet and Jack Drake were the only two who remembered. He’d lied, manipulated his way into being a boy, and Gotham had listened to him. After all, why would the adorable, charming Drake boy lie about his gender , of all things? He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to do it, but the years of absence by his parents from the media had probably paid in his favour. 

Tim had erased it from his own mind, too. The scars? Self harm. The way he looked a bit more feminine than most guys? Testosterone deficiency. He never even allowed himself to look a bit further down his body. As long as he didn’t think about it, it wasn’t there. 

The nights of shame and tears were buried deep within him, only existing in their little world at Drake manor. In front of his fathers closet, he’d sobbed, because none of the suits would fit him just right. Then he stood up, walked away, and never thought about it again.

He’d spent years living completely as a guy now. Why did it matter anyway? As long as he didn’t say it, no one would know. 

Janet and Jack Drake knew. And now, the league of assassins knew too. 

They’d taken off his clothes, laid him there, exposed to the eyes of anyone who wanted to look. Now that he was looking, he noticed that there wasn’t even a lock on the door. 

But the other beds were empty. Everything was empty, besides one chair. The man who had questioned him, ordered his men to beat him repeatedly. The man who was now mocking him. 

“Better question, what did you do to yourself? Such a pretty girl, and you wasted it for what? To be Robin?” Ra’s al Ghul was now slowly approaching him, lurking over him. 

“Or are you just sick in the head? Was it so fun to manipulate everyone around you? Lie to them?” He let out a sound that sounded almost like a laugh, but it was more mocking, maybe even angry. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“What did you do to me.” Tim repeated, still trying to stay strong, but tears welled up in his eyes. Hide your weaknesses . How was he supposed to do that now? How could he hide the years of shame when he was sprawled out like this, all that he’d tried to hide revealed to a man who would stop at nothing to pick him apart piece by piece and leave him broken on the floor. 

“Your spleen. It’s a small price for what you owe, really. It was already damaged anyway”

“What do I owe you?” 

“Two lives.” It was said so matter-of-factly, Tim had no Idea what to make of it. But clearly, the Demon head was being serious. 

“Dick Grayson. Saved by the lazarus pit two days ago. Never repaid his debt, so it falls to you as his brother.” He was silent for a moment, before beginning to speak again, sounding even angrier this time.

“Jason Todd. Sent out on a mission to overtake Gotham. Saved by the lazarus pit and trained at the league. He was working well, being a good soldier until-” He was right in front of Tim's face now, and it was close, too close-

“You came around.” 

“I expect Damian to come back soon. Otherwise, you’ll owe him too” 

“Who’s Damian?” 

“My heir. My soldier. What does it concern you, besides the weight that will fall on your shoulders if your people chose him over you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You will replace him until he is back. That is the least you can do.” 

So Tim was going to be just another placeholder. Another unwanted child, another unfit soldier. 

“I won’t. I will never work for you” 

“Oh, really?” 

With that, the demon head walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open behind him, just like he’d left Tim wide open for anyone to see. 

The blanket felt like it was getting thinner every time he tried to shift it and wrap it around himself. But Timothy Drake didn’t cry, no matter how much he hated looking at his own body like this, how scared he was of anyone seeing him like this. Were there cameras in this room? Who was watching him? 

Was this going to be sent to Batman? Jason and Kon? He wasn’t sure if he could take that. Would they accept him? And even if, would they forgive him for lying? 

Would he still be the same boy they’d known before?

Through the panic, he still tried to act. If he didn't want the league to do whatever they wanted with him, he needed to get out, and do it soon. 

Standing up was exhausting, and he could feel the pain from the operation still haunting his body. But he had to. 

He would get out of here, and if it’d kill him. He would die outside of the league bases, and he’d die as Timothy Drake. Whether as a son or a soldier, he would be himself. 

Quickly, he made note of everything that seemed even slightly significant in the room, before sneaking outside. He walked through the halls, using every ounce of stealth training he’d ever gotten to get as far as he could. The more he could get to know the layout, the easier it would be to escape. Although, he doubted that it would be possible right now.

There were too many safety measures in place to get out while he was still barely-walking and only stealthing instead of fighting. 

Before he could get anywhere close to an exit, he felt a little stab into his arm, and before he could do anything, reality dissolved back into violent, black clouds.

~~~

“So you need some incentive to comply?” 

“I’ll never do anything for you, Ra’s” 

He was chained up in a dark room. At least, this time, he’d been granted the luxury of underwear. Although it was almost worse. Pink. Girls underwear . He hadn’t worn this in years. 

Tim wanted to die right then and there. They hadn’t even blinded him this time, probably so he could see exactly what was going on. 

“How about you watch a little something for me, birdie?” 

Before he could respond, there was already a giant screen in front of him, playing some CCTV footage. The screen was divided into four separate cameras, all recording different parts of Gotham. But they did seem to be pretty close together, like one person could run off the recording from one camera and appear right onto the next. 

Then it started. 

“Robin, be careful!” A young boy ran onto the camera, he couldn’t be any older than 12. Right behind him followed Nightwing, seemingly struggling to keep up with the Boy. Behind him came an awfully familiar, red-black motorcycle. 

At one point, Batman appeared too. They all fought some rogue there, occasionally disappearing and reappearing out of Tim's vision. All together, as a family. 

With a new Robin. 

Even Jason was there now, fighting alongside them as if it had always just been like that. As if any plan of going off with Tim, building their own thing had been completely forgotten. As if Tim had never even existed in the first place. 

As if Tim had been the only thing holding him back from going back to his real family. 

Two days. Ra’s had said that it’d been two days since Dick was in the lazarus pit. Since then, he was out once again, but it didn’t feel like a lot of healing had happened with the operation wound. So, another 3 days at most. 

It hadn’t even taken a week for him to be replaced. All of his work, his pain, painted over by a new holder of the Robin mantle. The mantle that had led to him being lost here in the first place. 

He had never had much ownership over Robin, but he’d expected to be offered a grace period. A warning. Anything. 

At the very least, he thought he’d be fired or officially have the role taken from him. In a way, that had happened, but did his effort as Robin when saving Dick mean nothing?

Had he not taken the risk of sacrificing himself in order for his brother to live? Had he not adhered to Robin's moral code when he could’ve saved himself instead? 

Was he really this meaningless? 

Jason was there. Jason was fighting alongside this new Robin, something he’d never let Tim do. Was it really because he was injured, or did he just not want to fight with him?  

Batman, too. Jason was fighting right by him, as if nothing had ever happened. 

As if there had never been anything standing in between the two of them but Tim. 

He’d really been the reason for their misery, huh? 

“So, what do you say now, girl wonder?” The girl was spoken with such emphasis on it, that alone was enough to bring tears to Tim’s eyes. But he didn’t let it overtake him, wouldn’t show how weak he truly was. He still had to get out of this. 

If he would die, he would die a boy.

“You got an open position for me?” 

Chapter Text

“Damian, we’ve been over this, you can’t fight as Robin like you did in the league”

“Tsk, you’re not my father. You cannot command me around, Grayson”

This conversation had happened over and over again over the last few days, and Jason was sick of it. He’d liked the demon brat before, but the longer he was here now, the more he wanted to just strangle the kid.

Mostly because he was replacing Tim right after he’d gotten lost. It wasn’t like they’d had any choice in the matter, but still.

It had happened just two days after the gremlin got lost. Jason was still devastated, scrambling to find any data on the league's base and where he possibly could be. But while his memory had been enough for the lazarus pit, he was far from knowing enough to actually succeed in a rescue mission. Not even with Dick and Bruce’s help.

He despised working with them after all that had happened, hated that Bruce ‘rescued’ a kid that was completely random to him instead of searching for Tim. But he had to. Batman, and Oracle, of course, were his only chance at getting more information.

Except it still wasn’t enough. They’d probably need someone who was there just recently and knew the entire In-and-Outs of this place, someone who could pretend to belong to them while distracting the people so that they could get Tim.

Somehow, the demon brat had heard Dick say that.

“I can assist you with that. I assure you, my grandfather trusts me enough to let me get away with that easily. And who else would know the grounds better than I do?”

“So you’ll help us get Tim?” Jason had asked, foolishly.

“Under one condition.”

“Yes?” Dick chimed in again, his voice almost hopeful now.

“I get the title that I am owed.”

“What are you talking about kid?” Jason interrupted. God, he hated where this was going.

“The Robin mantle. It will be mine, in exchange for this Drake’s life”

After a few protests, Dick gave up on trying to fight it. They needed to find and save Tim, and he didn’t want the mantle anymore anyway, right?

Jason knew better. Knew that having the mantle ripped from you while you were gone hurt a thousand times over and ripped open wounds that he didn’t even know he had.

Wounds that were even worse with Tim. At least through her drunken rage and mindlessly stoned endeavors, his mother had cried about not being enough for him. Even though it was in the most messed-up and awful way, she had cared.

He knew that this would prove every single one of Tim's insecurities right.

He knew that saving his life was more important than that.

Bruce didn’t have any say about Damian. At the very least, Dick had decided that Tim's position as Bruce’s protegee wouldn’t be filled just yet. For now, Damian was Nightwings Robin. Which he very vocally despised, especially in his rants about blood and all of that, but he had to deal with it. His demands were fulfilled, and to the public, it made no difference as long as Dick was in Gotham instead of Blüd anyway.

They had considered asking for help from the broader hero community, but they’d landed on the conclusion that they’d keep things more private. Jason, once again, hated that decision. He was so close to storming off on his own at this point, but he knew that he needed these stupid stuck-up fuckers to get Tim back.

This was Tim’s life, and he wouldn’t risk it just because he disagreed with how they handled things. At the very least, Damian had assured them that Tim would be alive for at least a week.

The fact that he also mentioned that he’d probably be tortured in that time did not help Jason sleep at night. In fact, he had probably slept about an hour total since Tim had disappeared.

It was his fault. If he hadn’t left Tim, he’d be alive and fine right now, probably out patrolling with him. Laughing at his awful jokes. Crocheting on that goddamned hoodie that made him tear up every time.

At least he’d managed to convince the other bats to let Young Justice in on this. They could need the help.

Unfortunately, it had turned out that the league's base was entirely super-proof. Lead everywhere, to the point where Kon had been panicking for days about not being able to hear Tim's heartbeat and had been at Jason's apartment a hundred times to ask what was going on. But of course, Jason hadn’t been there ever since.

How could he? How could he go into the apartment he’d shared with Tim, knowing that he was likely being tortured right now all because of him?

How could he do anything but to try and fix this?

Damian refused to aid in rescuing Tim before securing his position as Robin. Fuckass brat. So, while preparing other things for the mission, they also all went on patrol together. Dick had somehow convinced him that they needed to learn how to work together in order to be able to save Tim. He hated it. He hated all of it.

He’d do anything to have the little gremlin back.

Kon didn’t look like he’d been doing well either, his eyes smeared in a faint black that looked like smudged eyeliner that had been mostly worn off by now. In addition to that, his usual perfect glowing hot skin had cooled down a bit, as if he hadn’t gone out into the sun for a couple of days and barely had any energy left. They’d have to fix that before the mission.

Dick had changed too, but Jason wasn’t sure what had happened because of the lazarus pit and what could be attributed to Tim going missing. On one hand, his brother had become… like him, in a way. And scarily so. His eyes were greener than Jason's now, the initial effects not having gone down completely yet.

Of course, he was better adjusted than Jason was back then in some way. He had a father who was supporting him and all that. On the other hand, every strong emotion or reaction had become more. His eyes flashed bright green for a second, and suddenly, he was way too fast, way too strong, and his joints simply seemed to cease out of existence for just a moment.

It would probably go down after some more time and become more like what Jason had. On the other hand, Jason had been definitely alive when he’d been dunked. Sure, in a coma, but his heart was beating steady and strong.

He didn’t know if Dick was. Sure, it could’ve just been his panic or him just not noticing because he didn’t have his fingers on the pulse point correctly anymore.

But Dick had taken so long to get back up. Maybe, he was on that one second between fully being alive or dead, and who knew what that meant for his recovery with the lazarus pit?

The weirdest part was that he’d refused to announce his alive-ness to the rest of the heroes. Another reason as to why they were keeping this secret. Not even Young Justice had seen him, working almost exclusively with Jason for the time being.

His brother had always been a social butterfly, a person who couldn’t survive without his friends all around him. And yet, he now spent all his time at the cave, either working with Jason or Bruce or training with Damian. He’d developed almost a hyperfixation on the kid, trying his best to instill moral values or something like that in him.

Jason was sure that he’d fail, but he let him anyway. It wasn’t like he was hurting anyone.

In the end, Bruce had to announce that Dick was put in a temporary coma until they could fix his condition, and that no one was allowed to see him. Not a good choice, really. But Jason could respect the guy's wish to stay dead for a little longer, even if he really didn’t understand it.

Who did Jason have that was worth officially coming back for? The only person he could think of was Tim.

Today was his 18th birthday. He was planning to ask the kid about adoption - or at least some form of guardianship - today.

But he couldn’t now. Instead, he’d betrayed Tim in the worst way possible, let Damian replace him without even a word, while his little gremlin was probably going through absolute hell.

Hopefully, soon, he'll come back too. Before he went out too far.

Before Jason lost him again. Before he’d lose everything again.

He was supposed to be studying right now. He’d been working on finishing high school so that he could go to college one day. Maybe give Tim the chance of living a normal life. Being a normal kid.

There were so many loose strings in his life, and all of them were tied to Tim. In such a short time, the gremlin had become his everything. And he had no Idea what he’d do if he was forced to let go.

Every minute already felt like he was a little closer to going completely off the rails, like he was holding on to the control he had over himself for dear life and was almost about to slip off.

Once he lost that last string of hope that Tim was alive, that he was at least somewhat okay, he would probably take down all of Gotham and himself with it.

Probably wouldn’t be alone in doing it, either.

While he and Kon weren’t the best of friends, they started hanging out more. First it was because Kon would refuse to wait on any of the updates, so he was shadowing him basically the entire time that he spent outside of the batcave. Slowly, as the investigation started becoming slower and slower, it became more of a weird hangout. A sitting-together-in-their-misery.

Sometimes they sat there late at night, when everyone else had finally found some sleep at the bottom of their coffee mug, talking about Tim. Telling their best stories and reminiscing about him, laughing and finding comfort in each other's memories. As if that somehow breached the gap just for a few seconds, and the pain of his absence was just a little less daunting as long as there was someone else to share it with.

Today, Jason was going to return to their apartment for just a bit. Get some of Tim's stuff for when they’d get him out. It’d be soon. It had to be.

Kon had offered to come with him, and Jason had agreed. If there was anyone else who knew what Tim would need, it was him.

Jason decided to get a few case files. He knew Tim shouldn’t be working after all of this, but the kid buried himself in his work in a way that sometimes drowned out everything else. And hell, he’d definitely need a distraction from… everything.

As he grabbed them from his stack of papers, he spotted another thing.

The adoption papers.

He knew that it’d take a lot longer than just both of them signing that, and that a whole bunch of shit would have to happen before it was actually official. But he had still looked into everything that would need to happen, checked every requirement to the best of his abilities, and had requested the papers just a bit early.

They were supposed to look at them together today. Talk about it.

Jason's signature was already on there. He was ready. He was certain. The only thing missing to start the official process was Tim's consent. .

Did Tim think that he abandoned him there?

Was he just as bad as his parents and Bruce now?

Kon found him there, stuck in the moment, still staring at the papers in his hand.

“He’ll be so happy when he sees that”

Will be. Future tense, because Tim didn’t just exist in the past. He had a future. He had to have one. It’d be bright and amazing, and he’d have a chance to finally be happy.

Right?

In silence, they stood there staring, until Kon gently nudged him away, walking back to Tim's room, expecting Jason to follow him.

They didn’t speak a lot. They never really did as long as the sun was out, as if the shadow of the night pulled back the cover they both put up and revealed just how much Tim's disappearance had eaten them alive. Like the tears weren’t an admission that he was really gone as long as no one could see them.

Maybe, somewhere in the silence between them, they found traces of Tim in each other. The little habits they’d picked up from him. How Jason always put the subtitles on when he was watching anything, because that was how Tim liked it. How Kon always had something small to fidget with on him, because it helped Tim concentrate, although right now he used it himself because it reminded him of Tim. Comforted him, in a way.

And then, finally, the day had come. Damian gave in, offering to help them. The plan had been made long ago, now they just needed to tie everyone in. Which also meant revealing that Dick was alive to Young Justice.
Didn’t go well. Really, not well.

Kon was stunned, but he was used to Tim pulling some weird shit. Bats, right? Although he was a bit worried about how Clark would react, he stayed focused on the mission.

Cassie was a lot like Kon, although a little bit more outraged. How could he do that to the other heroes who were mourning him?

The worst was Bart. Bart had seen Wally search all of Gotham, hell, the entire continent. It’d taken him two days to finally give up on that. In the end, he crashed in the living room and just started sobbing and stuffing himself until he threw up into the toilet.

After that he’d locked himself in his room for two days straight. Very concerning behaviour for a speedster, but Wally had shut out anyone who had tried to come in or bring him food.

And now they were telling him that it was all because of nothing?

Kon had to physically hold him down from running out to get Wally. They needed to get through this now.

For Tim.

The first one that went in were Robin and Batman. All of them would then enter from different points that Damian had given them as possible opportunities of getting in.

And then they had to somehow find Tim too. According to the demon brat, it was most likely that he was being kept in the cells, where Kon was headed. Jason was down to the MedBay, Cassie to the normal quarters and Bart to the training centers. Dick was going right behind the dynamic duo, insisting that he be there if Damian got into danger.

Right before they split up, Dick went up to him, holding him by the shoulder for just a moment.

“No more dead Robins.”

Jason nodded silently before moving to his post.

No more dead Robins, not now, and not ever. Robin wasn’t allowed to die. Red Robin wasn’t allowed to die.

Tim wasn’t allowed to die. Not on his watch.

Chapter Text

Tim - Tim? - was slowly but surely getting his insides scooped out, until soon, he would find himself entirely empty. 

Not literally, this time. Thankfully, the only organ he’d lost was his spleen. But he could still feel it, as if his previous self was laid out open in front of Ra’s, and he was picking and choosing which parts to replace until slowly, he would be another person entirely. 

He felt sorry. Because after all of this, it felt like the week before had never even happened. With every video he was shown of Jason patrolling with him , he lost faith that it had ever meant anything at all. 

You really think you matter to him? C’mon now, don’t be such a stupid girl. We both know that you’re smarter than that. Or, well, are you? It does take a special kind of delinquency to mutilate such a pretty body like that. 

After two more days, he’d given up on the Bats coming to save him. It wasn’t like he had much hope after seeing the first video, but still, maybe there was an excuse. Maybe it was out of context, and they were coming to save him. 

But it hadn’t stopped, and Jason hadn’t ceased to show up in the videos either. If anything, he’d gotten more involved. Or maybe that was just his imagination. Or Ra’s. He couldn’t tell anymore.

He?

Ra’s had unmasked him at one point, but even though he probably knew who he was (Timothy Drake was kind of a celebrity, after all), he still referred to him exclusively as Robin. 

It hurt in so many ways at once. That was the title he’d wanted to shed in a way, wanting to reclaim it in his own way. And now it was being used against him, because it was a girl's name. The demon head had taken his Identity, his life and turned it around, weaponized it against him. 

One thing had been made clear to him now. He was a girl as long as he didn’t earn his place as a boy. 

It was a privilege now. A price to be earned. A status that was attached to certain conditions. Ones that he could never fully, permanently fulfill. 

He didn’t have a future in the league. Even now, he could feel every ‘she’ with a sudden pain in his chest, as someone was actually stabbing him over and over again until he slowly bled out. 

Staying would mean certain death. Being a girl meant certain death. He’d known that even all those years ago, and nothing had changed. If anything, being treated like that again after years of living as a boy hurt even worse. 

So he had to get out on his own. Even if he wouldn’t survive out there without Jason, even if all the reasons he was happy about surviving were gone now, he still had one goal in mind. 

He would not die a girl. He would die as Timothy Jackson Drake. He wouldn't be anyone's son or daughter, brother or sister, but he would be a boy . Even if that meant losing the little company the league had to offer in a world where no one else would bother to pretend that they cared about him again. 

He was no one’s plaything, he wasn’t some stupid little thing. Though his confidence was dwindling, and he was sure that the people outside were better off without him anyway, he still had one thing. 

Spite. Enough of it to get out of here. Not much further, but it’d be enough. If anyone outside of the league would find his body, they’d see the corpse of a boy.

And that was enough. 

To his luck, Ra’s had decided that he would train like his heir would. Of course, Tim was once again just a replacement. But, on the other hand, he’d been given the uniform for a female soldier- 

Which had a lot of room in places that he couldn’t fully fill out. And with the training came access to a multitude of weapons. If Tim had any strengths besides his intelligence, it was his stealth. 

It cost him a lot of mistakes to acquire them, but after a week, he had two small daggers, a smoke bomb and a collapsible staff. Perfect. 

Of course, mistakes had consequences. 

He was punished as the heir would be. One clean cut on his wrist, neatly lined up, counting every single one of his failures. The number quickly grew, and Tim knew that they’d leave scars. The kind that only started to turn white after months of healing, and never fully vanished. He was marked for life, and  this time, it wouldn’t be so easy to hide. 

At least it helped calm down his self harm urges. He really couldn’t afford to lower his physical capabilities any more if he wanted to get out of here soon. 

Exactly one week after he’d been taken, he got his hands on the last puzzle piece of his plan. In the glass behind one of the guards who were supposed to be watching him, he could see them entering the password to the system. Of course, he could’ve found that out himself, but it was a risk. 

Idiot even turned off the hide-password for a moment to check if he’d typed it in correctly. 

Losing that fight cost him another line, another berating from Ra’s about his complete and utter unworthyness to be any kind of hero or villain. 

But it earned him his freedom. 

It was late now, and he was still training. He wasn’t allowed to rest much. Not unless he collapsed onto the floor and was physically unable to stand back up. Tonight, he was nowhere near that level of exhaustion. It was as if the hope of finally getting out of here, out of his own mind was fuelling him to keep going. 

Mid-fight, he pulled out the staff he’d been hiding. It was quick business, and his sparring partner was soon on the floor, fully knocked out. Or dead. Really, Tim couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. Not when he thought about what he’d been through, and what he was about to do. 

The first thing he did after that was disable the cameras and the communication systems in the room. He didn’t need the entire league to storm him. Still, he had to fight off about ten more guards, thankfully not at once. He’d been holding back all week, keeping his best fighting strategies to himself, so now, they didn’t know most of the moves he suddenly used. 

All the while, he’d focused on learning the weaknesses. Every warrior had their own tells and style, but they all had the same training. When he noticed multiple of his sparring partners lacking in one spot, he simply concluded that it might have been a flaw in the training. 

Every little thing he’d learned about all of them now was now spilling into his mind, fuelling his movements without him even having to actively think about it.

Finally, everyone was out. Getting to the next computer was easy. The few guards that were posted on the way did not stand a chance. 

Until someone grabbed onto his shoulder. At first, he reached to grab them and start the fight, but when he did that the person slipped out right from under his grip, reappearing at some distance - too long for his staff - at an incredible speed. 

Bart . 

He came. 

It was too late. He’d already gotten into the systems, he’d set off the timer-

Bart could get out fast enough. But what if-

“Bart, are you alone?” 

“No there’s a whole mission, all the bats and Cass and Kon are also searching for you, they’re gonna be so happy when they see that you’re okay!”

“Bart please listen to me and do exactly what I say, okay?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to alert everyone and get them out immediately. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Now go, please, you have four minutes” 

“But Rob-”

“Go!” that was it, the out-in-the-field Robin voice. No one in Young Justice would question him for even a moment after he used it. 

The timer had been set off. 

It hadn’t been difficult to get into the leagues systems and set some things off, causing the entire thing to go up in flames in just five minutes. 

But now? Everyone was here, because of him. 

Would they die because of him too? 

This wasn’t the time to worry about all of that. Bart would manage. The little imp was fast enough to run halfway across the globe in four minutes, probably. 

He still had one more thing left to do. 

On the other end of the floor was Ra’s. He should still be there. Hopefully. Tim wasn’t sure that he’d make it this far. 

For once in his life, he got lucky. 

There he sat, completely unprepared, staring at him confused - but not scared. Oh, that was about to change in just a second. 

Without a single second of hesitation he started beating the demon head with his staff, making him back up into a corner within minutes. Time was running now, but he had the advantage this time around. He knew everything. Everything that had been on that computer about potential weaknesses, contingencies, he knew it. 

And nothing would make him consider this man's life worthy of saving now. 

“Are you scared, Ra’s?” No answer. Tim didn’t expect one. He made note of the window right beside the wall he was holding the demon against. That would be useful soon. Hopefully. If he didn’t die right then and there. 

“Who’s being a pussy now, hm? Look at yourself, such a scared little girl” With that, he drove his dagger into the man’s stomach, a wide smile forming all over his face. 

He’d won. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll kill you. But don’t you think you can ever come back from this.” Slowly, almost carefully, he sliced through his flash, landing the second dagger right in his heart. 

“Don’t you dare underestimate me ever again” Finally, he let go, letting the old man fall to the ground before quickly breaking the glass of the window with his staff. Faster than he’d ever done anything else in his entire life, he climbed up there, already hearing the explosions start in the background. 

He was multiple stories high up. 

There was no one down there to save him. 

He didn’t want to call upon anyone to do so anymore. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, he didn’t want to live as a girl again. He’d rather die than live with the memories of what he’d been through. 

So he jumped. Spread his arms wide, as if he still had the Robin cape to catch him. 

Behind him, the explosion went off just as he went out, and suddenly he didn’t hear anything anymore. But the old man was dead. Blown to less than pieces, his blood and flesh splattered around the ruins of his life’s work. He’d succeeded. 

At least he went out with a good deed, right? 

Jason would be proud of him. He’d never learn what Tim had done, never even care to try and find out. But for some reason, Tim couldn’t help but imagine a world where somehow survived this and lived to tell the tale. A world in which Jason still cared enough to listen. 

In that world, he’d be so proud. 

And that had to be enough right now, because it was all he’d ever get. 

He didn’t want to die. 

He just didn’t want to live either. So really, the decision was up to the universe, or whatever the fuck was or wasn’t out there now. 

Flip a coin, roll a dice, and decide if Timothy Drake dies.

Chapter Text

“Jason please you’re not helping him by dying here”

“If he’s staying I’m staying too” 

“You don’t even know-” 

“I’m not leaving him again!” Jason was half screaming now, his voice breaking as the sobs tore through him. 

Almost one minute ago, Bart had informed him that he’d found Tim and that the base was blowing up. Since then, they started evacuating everyone. Well, Bart was doing most of it. Kon had chosen to do Jason.

But he would not leave. Not if he wasn’t completely sure that when he stepped out of this godforsaken building, Tim was out there with him. 

He would not make the same mistake twice. This time, he was staying with his little gremlin, and if that meant that it was all over, it’d be worth it. At least Tim wouldn’t be alone.

Kon looked beyond exhausted, probably wanting to just leave and be somewhere safe. Or he was thinking the same thing as Jason but had to keep pushing, keep trying so that if Tim somehow made it out, he at least wouldn’t be alone.

The Kryptonian was much more than a punk - golden retriever. It wasn’t like Jason had suddenly become an expert on the boy's emotions and feelings and all that stuff he didn’t really want to deal with- but he recognized that look in his eyes. 

The utter defeat, and that special almost extinguished spark that he always had when he talked about Tim. It would be adorable if it wasn’t getting darker every time, reminding Jason that with every day, Tim was probably fading as well. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that Kon was a child, and he needed to get out of here as soon as possible, he'd have offered to sit down together. Let hell swallow them whole as the pain of the last week was bombed away, tear by tear, memory by memory. 

But Kon should get out of here. Save himself. 

Save Tim.

No. Yes. He didn’t know anymore. On one hand, Kon was just as valuable as Tim was, technically, and he needed to make sure that he was safe. There might be Kryptonite somewhere here, and it could hit him if it exploded in a weird way-

On the other hand, this was Tim . And he’d do anything, risk anyone to make sure that his little gremlin was safe and sound. The reason he’d become the red hood, his core principle was now being put to the test. 

What was worth more to him? 

To make sure that no kids were harmed if it could be avoided, no matter the cost or…

The child that he would’ve adopted if he had the time. The child that had made him lose so much sleep, and had also fixed his sleep schedule for some time. The child he would’ve given up everything for. 

But neither of those choices even seemed plausible right now, because Kon was still in front of him, desperately trying to convince him to come outside. As if his life still mattered if Tim didn’t survive this. 

He’d failed him once, left him here. 

Jason would rather die than do the same again. He’d go up in flames and let his blood rain before he had to shed another tear about missing his kid again. 

“If you leave I can start searching for Tim”

One minute left until the explosions would go off. Even if he gave in now, it’d be too late for Tim. 

All of this was his fault. And for that, he would pay. 

“Go save yourself” 

“ I don’t want to ”

“Then go save Tim” 

“How long do you think will that last if I don’t save you too?” 

Thirty seconds. 

“ Please . He needs you” 

“He doesn’t, he’s strong. I need him.” 

“Then stay alive for him”

With that, Kon just scooped him up suddenly, speed-flying him out of the building. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave. 

It didn’t even take ten seconds for him to land outside on his feet, and suddenly, Kon was gone. Wherever. Who cares. Jason needed to get back in there, he needed to get back to Tim-

As fast as he could, he ran back towards the entrance that they’d just gotten out of, but before he could reach it entirely, the flames were already coming through and-

And Jason had taken off his helmet earlier. Taken it off, because the league knew anyway, and he still had his domino.

Maybe, Tim would hear his voice, recognize him. Come to him. Maybe a bit like a cat? The kid was so much like a cat honestly. In the best possible way, of course. 

But now, he was all suited up, except for his face. And as he was running and the loose pieces of the explosion flew towards him, making it feel like the world was burning up all around him, one of them hit his cheek. 

Suddenly, it felt like his entire face was burning, and his instincts kicked in. Remove the burning piece and get to safety. 

When he realized what had just happened, it was already too late. 

He survived.

~~~

It was there. 

Kon could hear Tim's heartbeat again. He’d gotten out, and wherever he was, he probably needed their help. Or he didn’t. They couldn’t bring themselves to care right now, they just needed to see him, to be sure that he was okay. 

Before they could even think about it, they had already picked up Jason and left him off at the nearest safe spot before speeding over to Tim. They couldn’t waste any more time carrying someone. And as it turned out, that was the right decision. 

Tim was fucking falling . His way-too-small, way-too-fragile body was racing downwards, and he was about to break. Somehow, Kon still managed to catch him, only about eight feet above the ground. 

Could Kryptonians get gray hair? Because if they could, Tim would definitely be the cause of Kons. 

Oh god was he going to go bald like Lex??

Wrong moment Kon, wrong moment. 

But it was okay now. It was, really. Because after all of this, Tim was curled up safely in their arms once again, and Kon would never let go again. 

“Tim? You there?”

“Kon?” 

“Yeah sunshine” they didn’t just use that nickname lightly. In a way, Tim was truly their sunshine. Because no matter how much they needed it, going out into the sun to recharge had suddenly become impossible without him. What did they need the energy for if there wasn’t a good reason to even get out of bed anymore? 

It wasn’t like Tim was their only reason to live. But without him, everything else just felt so… meaningless. 

The boy in his arms tried to bury his head in his side, almost as if he was trying to hide. 

“Don’t look at me, please?” 

“Why?” 

“Can we talk later?”

That was probably the best decision. Kon had some things they probably wanted to tell Tim too after all.

Would he stay if he knew how much of a freak they really were?

Now, they should probably inform the others that Tim was alive and well, and check if everyone else was too. Although, from the number of heartbeats that he could hear, everyone seemed to be there. Except for one, but that was probably just because of the lead Batman's suit was laced in. It used to drive Clark insane . 

Thankfully, Kon was not Clark, and frankly, they couldn’t bring themselves to care if the old bat lived or died right now. Not as long as his Tim was safely bundled up in their arms, and he still had a home to return to.

Time to check on Tim's half-parent. 

“You okay if we go check on Jason?”

“He’s here?” he asked, his voice almost cracking up already. 

Kon wasn’t sure if they wanted to know any of what had happened to him in that godforsaken league. Not if it broke Tim enough to make him think that Jason wouldn’t come to get him. 

But when they got to where he’d sat Jason down, there was… A body. On the ground. In his Uniform. Only the face was different, it was barely recognizable on one side, burned enough to definitely leave permanent damage. Thankfully, the domino mask seemed to be fireproof. 

Before Kon could say anything, Tim was already out of his arms, scrambling to check Jason's pulse and talking to him as if that would make him wake back up. 

“Tim, he's alive. Lets just get him to the next MedBay, alright?” 

“I did this to him” 

“What?” 

“I caused the explosions. I did this to him”

“You didn’t- Talk to him about that later, okay?”

Tim just silently agreed, but he didn’t step away. In fact, he didn’t leave even when they were transporting him back to the Batcaves Medbay. Not until Alfred came in to tell him that he needed to leave the room, and that Jason wouldn’t wake up for another few hours because of the sedative he’d given him. 

And that was how they eventually ended up in Tim's room in Wayne manor. He was still wearing the same ill-fitting, kind of strange clothes from earlier, but now, he was starting to change. In front of Kon. Holy shit. 

They looked away, of course. They weren’t going to abuse the trust Tim had in them to just… do that. Not after years of him avoiding the common showers and changing rooms even when Cassie had started giving that up after like, all of them had come out as gay.

Well, Bart was pan. But he was also completely asexual, so the communal changing had really just become a completely normal thing for them at one point. Except for Rob.

“Kon, I have to tell you something.”

Oh fuck, did he find out about them? How? Was he going to leave?

“I’m trans”

“You’re what?” 

Huh? What was that? Were they supposed to know what that was? Oh fuck was this one of those times where they really needed to know what something meant and they didn’t and then they fucked everything up-

Tim sat down in front of them on the bed now, taking both of their hands. Okay, good. It felt comforting in such a familiar way and brought them back to reality in a way, reminding them of all the times they’d done this before. And it also meant that Tim wasn’t mad or disappointed. Yet. 

Gods, it was like Tim's presence alone immediately made their mind and body calm down. Like a walking anti-anxiety pill. Which was quite ironic, considering that Tim was probably the most anxious person they knew. Did Kon have an effect like that on him too?

“I was born as a girl, and I changed my name and a few other things about my body to appear like a boy because I feel like one. Have you ever heard of that?” Kon could hear his heart racing, but the way he was explaining it to them was still so calm and full of patience. Fuck they loved this man.

But also. That was like… possible? A thing?

Were they maybe not such a freak after all?

Okay, no, pause, this is about Tim. And he looks like he’s about to cry. Fuck Kon do something-

“Why are you telling me?”

Could they have said something more stupid?

“Well I know you’re gay and like I might not be the kind of guy you want-”

“You’re all I want.” 

“Hm?”

“I don’t care if there’s anything different about you or if you were born another way, you’re a guy and you’re you. That’s all I need.”

Fuck Tim was crying now. Did they say something wrong? But he was smiling and-

Kon wrapped their arms around the boy tightly, pulling him closer to their chest. 

“I’ll always love you” that just made him cry harder, and Kon wasn’t sure what to do anymore besides just holding him, hoping that somehow that would fix whatever was wrong.

“I’m sorry it’s just that- Ra’s-”

“You don’t have to apologize or justify yourself sunshine” 

A while passed, and Tim never left their arms. Kon was not complaining. After a week of missing him, they were happy about the constant reassurance that he was really there, that he was safe. 

But maybe, it was also time to confess something on his side. 

“Tim?”

“Yes?”

“That trans thing, is that also like, for not-girls and also not-boys?”

“You mean like, nonbinary people?”

“There’s a name for it?” 

Tim leaned back a bit now to look at their face, cupping it with both hands.

“Kon. Love. Sweetheart. Are you trying to tell me that you’re not a girl or a boy?” 

“Yes? I’m not- I didn’t even know that any of this was like a thing but I-”

“Omg, was that the reason for the eyeliner?”

Kon grew more silent now, still a bit afraid of what Tim would think of them when this conversation was over.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Wait, so what did you think if you didn’t know that being nonbinary existed until just now?” fuck, he was getting out that overconcerned - ‘you better tell me if you’re not okay because I will coddle you to death’ - look. Kon was not getting out of this one. 

“I don’t know, I guess I just kinda thought that I’m some kind of freak-” One very well placed kiss interrupted them in the middle of their sentence, with Tim immediately going on before they even had the chance to continue. 

“You’re not a freak. You’re adorable. What pronouns do you want me to use?” 

“Uh, I mean, I like all? But like, not just he? You could use just they? I mean mixing is kind of a lot-” 

“If you want me to I will” 

“Are you sure?”

Tim did not honor that question with an answer, instead pushing Kon onto the bed and proceeding to kiss along their jaw. 

“My beautiful princess”

“My fucking handsome prince”

“Wait, what’s the gender neutral one here?” he interrupted for a second, glancing up at Kon.

“I don’t know like- Majesty or something?” Tim just nodded, proceeding with that. After he was satisfied with his kisses and compliments, he went back up, looking Kon directly into their eyes. They could feel how their face was practically burning up. 

That was probably the best fucking experience of their life.

“I love you” 

“I love you more”

“I love you the most” Tim finished, grinning at them as if he’d just beaten Kon at some kind of strategy game. 

They’d never get tired of that adorable smile. 

Chapter Text

“You should tell him that you’re awake”

“You should tell your friends that you aren’t in a coma. Pretty sure Wally is gonna come running around here the minute Bart gets to him”

“I know”

Silence laid over the two men like a heavy blanket, and Dick wasn’t quite sure if it was really unsettling or strangely comforting. Maybe, in a way, it was both at the same time.

“Why aren’t you, then?”

“I thought you’d understand. Y’know, you didn’t tell anyone either”

“Wasn’t like I had a lot of people to come back to”

What?

After all this time of missing him, of dreaming of his little brother every night and being haunted by him even in the daytime, Dick had never once considered it possible that Jason would think that he didn’t have anyone who would’ve cared if he came back.

Was that the reason why, well, everything had happened the way it did?

“Jay, I-”

“Don’t call me that”

“Why?”

Jason sighed for a moment, hissing in pain because of the burns.

“You called me that, y’know, before”

“And?”

“I’m so different now. Look at me Dick, I’m- I don’t even recognise myself! I’ve killed people!”

“You’re still my baby brother”

“What, you don’t care? I almost killed you, goddamn it! I don’t even know if I really did or not!”

No, he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure if he understood, either, but he wouldn’t go and run away from the brother he’d wished to have back for years now just because he didn’t understand. And really, Dick felt like he started to understand more every day.

The green in his vision was driving him crazy.

“But I’m alive”

“But you could be dead”

“You saved me” Jason looked back at him now, burying the side of his face that was burned in the sheets. That had to be painful, but it also looked like Jason was trying to hide the wound somehow. It was kind of strange, considering that he wore every other scar on his face and body with a certain carelessness, or sometimes almost showed them off to demonstrate something.

Look what I’ve been through. You could’ve saved me.

Or maybe that was just Dick overthinking.

“Do you think Tim will say the same thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I abandoned him. For you. He could’ve died in there. I thought he died in there Dick!”

For a second, he hesitated. Should he really mention this now?

“Do you remember what you said when you were first waking up?”

“What? No why would I”

Time to stop this, Dick.

Fuck, what were his lying skills good for if he ended up doing shit like this anyway?

“You immediately freaked out and screamed that you needed to get back to the league. That you needed to die with him” he could feel his voice cracking, because really, what was he saying? That the brother he’d wished to be alive so badly, who had come back from the dead, wanted to die again? It was ridiculous, right?

Jason would say that that was just bullshit. That he’d been accidentally hit by whatever had burned his face off, and that he technically wasn’t anywhere near the explosion as he should’ve been.

When his brother didn’t answer, he asked again, a bit more pointedly this time. “How did you get hit, Jay? You were supposed to be safe!”

“I didn’t want to leave him again”

That hit him like a truck. As if he was a deer running towards the light, thinking it to be the sun, only for it to be a train racing towards him. It was so obvious, and still, he hadn’t been ready to look it in the eye until now.

“Jason, I-”

“How do you do it?”

“What?”

“You’re this perfect brother, you make people feel like they want to be near you so bad and you never really make mistakes- How? How are you just so effortlessly perfect? I try everything for Tim and at the end of the day I still make every possible mistake”

Jason had given up on hiding the burn now, sat up in the bed and gesturing wildly towards him.

“You think I’m a perfect brother?”

“Well you hated me at first but yeah I try to be like you and I’m just not but I know that’s what Tim needs”

Dicks heart was breaking little by little, because with every word, he could almost see the man in front of him crack and turn into the little boy that he once babysat when Bruce was out on a meeting and Alfred was on vacation. The small Jay that had almost said no to eating all the ice cream in the freezer, because Bruce would be sad about it.

“I never hated you. I hated that Bruce took my mantle and gave it to someone else. And I certainly wasn’t perfect as a brother either. Hell, I was barely present. Every day you were gone, I was stuck wondering, wishing to know how things would’ve ended if I was there”

“You were on a mission in space, you couldn’t have”

“I don’t mean that. I mean that I barely spent time with you before. You should’ve been able to come over to my apartment and talk shit about Bruce instead of fleeing to some lie of a mother. My biggest regret is that you didn’t feel like you could do that”

“But what about Damian? You’re amazing with him, I could barely do that when I was with him at the league. I mean sure, I kind of love the kid, but you are so much better to him than I ever could be”

Jason was looking at him with those damned puppy eyes now, as if he was still thirteen and had just declared that Robin gave him magic healing powers after being injured in a fight. In reality, the magic healing powers were him refusing to admit when he was too hurt to fight, because if he couldn’t be useful, would Bruce still keep him around?

The hurt in those eyes was breaking him. How could life have hurt his little brother so badly? How could he not have been there to prevent it? How could he believe literally anything as long as it painted him the bad guy of the story?

“Have you listened to him talk recently?”

“No I was pretty mad at him for the Robin thing-”

“He constantly tells me that I could never be as good a brother as you are. That you’re the only one he’d listen to. I didn’t ask you because he’s my responsibility and you were pretty caught up with worrying about Tim, but I’m barely getting through to him”

“And Tim?”

“Jason, I might not have thought that you should be taking care of him just like that right after you got back. And I would still like to have him near me. But I can’t help admitting that you probably helped him more than being Robin ever did”

It was obvious. Tim had always been so damn fragile, in a weird way. He was tough, he was strong, he was smart. He was all those things, and still Dick could almost feel him cracking under the surface. And despite all of that, after getting back from being tortured - he hadn’t admitted it, but Dick had seen the way he flinched at literally everything - his first and only concern had been Jason.

Through all the hurt, he wouldn’t leave his side. And even now, instead of isolating himself and dealing with any wounds on his own, he had taken Kon with him upstairs. Kon hadn’t followed him, he’d been invited. Tim, reaching out for help?

That was definitely new. And who else could be responsible for that but Jason?

Dick might not understand all of what had happened while he was away, but he could see the results.

“You’re a better brother than I ever was”

“Don’t say that” Jason replied immediately.

A few seconds passed, but the silence had changed. Like they both wanted to say so much, but didn’t know how to start.

“Tim said that you killed the Joker?”

Oh. He didn’t expect that. It had been so long ago, and he’d been so full of rage-

And he would do it again every single time. Not because he didn’t regret it, hell he’d cried himself to sleep for multiple nights in a row after that, because that was still a life that he’d almost taken, and where would that lead him down the line, was he still good-?

But if it meant that his brother would get to rest peacefully, without his killer making fun of him as his tiny body laid in that damned grave, he’d do it again. While his moral compass was strong, and he would’ve hated himself forever for breaking it, nothing was more important than his family.

“Yeah”

“Why?”

“He was mocking you. I wanted to protect you”

“I was already dead”

“I know”

But that didn’t matter. Dick would never stop protecting his little brother, not until he himself would get lowered into the dark brown dirt.

“Why did you become the red hood?”

“I don’t know. To show Bruce that something needs to change? To make the change that my death should’ve made in Gotham? Protect the kids that are just as desperate as I used to be?”

“Your death changed everything” he wasn’t lying one single bit. The moment in which Jason's tiny heart had stopped beating, Dicks entire life seemed to go completely overboard.

“And the kids in crime alley still go hungry every night”

Dick knew that Jason was right. That the change that had been made wasn’t enough, that nothing would ever be. Because even though it felt like his life got derailed that day, Jason's life had technically ended. Nothing would ever change that, not unless he could rewind the world to that day and start over right there and then. No amount of grief could fix the fact that he’d lost his life, and no amount of change could compensate for the changes he’d gone through in order to survive after that.

And still, he would never stop trying.

“What’s it like? The lazarus pit and all that”

“Wouldn’t you of all people know?”

“I think your experience was very different from mine”

“Well what was it like for you?”

“Like it was swallowing me whole every day, eating away at every part of myself and putting it back together. Like every loveable part about me was replaced with something more suitable for a warrior”

Dick only nodded, not wanting to say it outright but silently confirming that in fact, he had been through the same. The only difference was that he’d had a father to hold him through it instead of a demon lord trying to shape him into the perfect weapon. Then again, he’d made himself into one, right?

Robin had always been his choice, his mantle. His vengeance, turned into something good. It had never been meant for anyone else to wear. And still, the kids lined up in pretty traffic light colored suits, waiting to be sent out into a battlefield that was never theirs to begin with.

“Does the green ever go away?”

He really hoped it would, because he might actually go insane if it didn’t soon.

“It won't be there all the time, but when your emotions go too wild it usually comes back. It doesn’t enhance my skills like it seems to do with you, though”

“Well damn, I always knew I was the luckier one” neither of them wanted to bring up the fact that those Bursts of power weren’t just luck, but the pit being rooted deeper within Dick, having kept him for so much longer than it had with Jason before letting him go.

“Why are you still hiding from everyone?”

“Why are you hiding from Tim?”

“He’s been through enough”

“Which is why he needs you”

Jason sighed, glancing over his shoulder as if Tim was right there.

“You didn’t answer. I asked twice now”

Oh, yeah. He’d barely even noticed. It was just so easy to not think about it at all than to have to confront the reality, that he was simply fucked up.

“I- I don’t know if they still want me. You know, I feel like I’m so different, and what if they see that too? I’d rather not know what they think than have all of them leave me”

Every time he looked in the mirror it looked like a different person looking back, as if the green eyes had changed his bone structure and hair color as well. As if the pit sat right under his skin, changing him according to its own will.

“Did you ever see me that way?”

“What? No of course not”

“Why would they then?” Well, he did not really know how to respond to that.

“What if they do?”

“Dick, I know you were like, dying while all that was going on, but I think your team would literally pull the moon from the sky if it meant that you were alive. A little green goo wont change anything”

“It changed everything”

“I know. But they don’t. Nothing has to change unless you want it to”

Between them, there was a strange sense of understanding. A sense of belonging that neither of them were able to find anywhere else, really.

They were flawed, and desperately so. Dick was never going to understand how Jason could kill so many people. Jason would never understand how Dick couldn’t.

But through all of it, there was no one who’d gone through the same things like they had. Though the green in the corner of their vision felt like it isolated them from everything else around them, it also brought them closer together in a way.

Dick felt like after years of searching, he’d finally arrived at his destination. Not because he found the little boy that he’d been looking for, but because he found his brother.

And there was no way in hell that he was losing him again.

Jason might not see it, but in Dicks eyes, he was still one of the kindest people he’d ever met. Not as red hood, of course, but there was something about the way he treated Tim, the way he worried about being enough for him that was just so reminiscent of the boy who would read Jane Austen in the Manor library.

And if Jason had managed to stay himself through all of that, maybe that meant that he could too. That he could step outside and finally ask Wally on that coffee date that he’d been planning to ask him on, instead of pretending to be dead.

Chapter Text

Finally, Alfred entered his room, telling Tim that Jason had woken up and requested to see him. The fact that it had taken Jason asking for him to come for Alfred to tell him that went ignored for now, as he immediately ran down to the MedBay, Kon flying after him. 

Right outside the room, he took the handle, taking one last deep breath before- 

No. He couldn't. This was just- He’d hurt him. How could he go and visit him now, Jason would probably just tell him that he never wanted to see him again, to go get his stuff and disappear forever-

The hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality for a moment, pausing his thoughts just long enough for him to listen to his dear partner. 

“You got this. I’ll be right outside, okay?” 

Tim nodded, turning his eyes back to the half-seethrough door in front of him. Thankfully, no one else was in there, everyone else having gone out unharmed because of Bart. Little Genius Imp.

He’d blown up probably hundreds of league members, and yeah, that was a conversation he’d probably have to have with Bruce at one point. But the fact that he’d hurt Jason too, it just… 

How could he face him now? After all that Jason had done for him, this was his response? 

Maybe he’d just been the problem all along. Probably. Why else had all other somewhat-parental relationships before failed if he wasn’t the reason? He was the one common factor, the thing that tied it all together. The set off point. 

And now he was about to watch himself ruin it once again. 

Would Jason be sad about losing him? Would he miss him? Would there be conflicted feelings, or would the hate for what he’d done to him overpower it all? 

Tim wanted Jason to miss him, and at the same time, he hoped for Jason's own good that he could forget him as quickly as possible. Move on to better things, to better people. 

Was it selfish for him to want to be missed? Probably. Tim couldn’t stop it anyway. He was just fucked up like that. A selfish little bastard, as always. 

But he pushed the door open anyways, leaving Kon behind as he walked to his certain demise. Would Bruce take him back in? Could Kon let him stay over for a couple of days until he figured something out? Would he have to go back to Drake Manor and sleep in the same bed that he’d tried to die in?

“Hey kid” Oh, how much Tim wished that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d hear that nickname. Not because he liked it, hell, he was really trying not to protest right now, but because it’d mean that he got to stay. That this wasn’t over yet. 

For the first time in forever, he didn’t want this to happen. He wanted to stay, wanted Jason to keep him around just a little longer. He didn’t want this to end, and he would do anything to make it last. But what could he do, really?

It wasn’t like he could stitch Jason’s face back on. 

“Are you doing alright?” Jason asked, trying to break the silence that had crept in between them. How could Tim say, well, anything to him now? How dare he stand there and let this man ask him how he was doing after burning almost half of his face off?

“I’m sorry” 

At first, Tim wasn’t sure who had said it. It had to be him, right? But then he realized that he still hadn’t spoken, that Jason was the one who’d just apologized to him.

He’d really messed up. That was the only logical conclusion to this. He had to have manipulated Jason or something like that, because why else was he saying sorry for something that was entirely not his fault? Why was he apologizing to the guy who’d probably ruined his entire life? 

But before his panic could really start picking up and he could turn around to leave, to remove himself from Jason’s life before he did any more damage, Tim already found himself in a tight, protective hug. 

Faintly, he could feel tears flowing down from Jason's eyes. Was he really crying right now? Did he feel that bad about cutting Tim out? Well, his thing had always been protecting kids, so even though he fully deserved it Jason might still struggle with like, his moral code and all of that. It had to be that. 

“I’m so sorry” Tim could hear him crying, but it just didn’t make sense. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, there was no reason for Jason to be acting like this. 

“Why?” he managed to bring out, his throat sore as if he’d been drinking acid. 

“I- I left you Tim! I left you there and then I had to let Damian become Robin, and I couldn’t even get to you when we were searching for you-”

Did he really feel bad about that? Those were all pretty rational decisions, in his mind. Of course Jason would leave him, he had told him to . And for that new kid to be Robin, well, the role had to be filled. 

You were so replaceable, it didn’t even take a week to find someone better. 

Jason had done nothing wrong. Why wouldn’t he leave a kid that he’d barely even known for a week in order to do, well, literally anything else?

It made perfect sense. 

“Why are you apologizing for that?” 

“What- Timbo, Timtam, gremlin, I left you. Damian said that you were being tortured in there, and I wasn’t there ” 

“That’s not your fault, though” It really wasn’t. None of it was. Jason had done what anyone else would. 

“I missed you so much” 

“You didn’t have to” 

“What do you mean by that?” Jason was now looking down at him with that concerned look, as if he was a single father who was worried about his child. Tim would miss this more than he could even describe.

“Well, you really don’t have any obligation to me. You don’t have to tolerate me, or miss me, or care for me or anything. You have better things to do” 

“I have what now? Tim, child, you are my better things. There’s nothing I want to do more than take care of you, kid. And yes I don’t have to miss you but I want to. I want to have you with me and I want you to be save, so that means that I’ll worry about you and miss you” 

“That’ll be bad for your health in the long run, one person cannot do that much worrying without getting like a heart problem or some bullshit like that”

“Do I look like I care?” 

“You really should” You should leave. Run before it’s too late. Run before I let myself believe that this can actually last, that I don’t have to be alone anymore. Run before I start to think that there will ever be anyone who cares what happens to me besides myself. 

“Well I don’t. You’re more important to me than some maybe-eventually-highly-unlikely heart problems, Timbo” 

What if that’s the problem?

“I already burned off half of your face” 

“What? No you didn’t” When was Jason going to start listening, start realizing just how dangerous he really was? 

Please, let it be now. Now, before he starts actually thinking that it isn’t inevitable, before he would start to think that he was actually loveable like that. 

“My explosion”

“I ran into it” 

“You did what!?” Tim responded, very alarmed now. Jason had run into the fire? Why? Was he suicidal? Had Tim made him suicidal?

“I didn’t want to leave you again” 

“You fucking dumbass- don’t do that! That’s stupid, you could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

That was definitely another tally in favour of ‘I should really leave before I seriously hurt this guy because he’s too precious for that’.

And still, Tim couldn’t bring himself to let go of the hug just yet. 

“Look- it’s fine now, alright? I’m just happy that you’re safe” 

“I swear on the fucking jokerized fries from Batburger if you ever do that again-” he couldn’t think of a better thing to swear on, alright? Sue him, the fries are amazing. 

“I won’t as long as you are safe” 

Oh fuck this guy. Really? Making him stay safe by threatening to follow him? Man, that’s just playing dirty. 

But still, Tim brought out a disgruntled “fine” as he finally let himself lean into Jason's hug. He was still definitely mad, though. 

Jason flinched at the contact, moving his head away so that the burnt side of his face wasn’t in contact with anything. He was supposed to have bandages over it, but he really wasn’t a fan of those. Fuckass texture. 

Tim looked up, wondering if he’d done something wrong and if Jason was okay, and that was when he noticed it. 

“Hey? What’re you staring at?” 

“Your scar-” 

The explosion had hit the cheek with the J on it. The old scar, partly faded but still noticeably there, was now burned off completely. As if that part of his past was being erased in a way, leaving Jason to move on from it.

Wait, no, that wasn’t right. There were still plenty of scars from that night left, of course. 

But that symbol was gone. Like he’d finally escaped the grasp that madman had over his life. Not because he’d ‘gotten over it’, or because it wasn’t a part of him anymore in one way. That past would always be his, and it couldn’t be undone. But who he was now, and what he made of those memories could be changed. 

Jason Todd would always have the right to grieve the life he could’ve had. But right now, he was looking forward to what he could build in the future. 

“Kinda symbolic huh?” 

“I thought you were the guy who likes literature and poetry. Can’t you word that like, a little nicer at least?” 

“I’m not the one who said ‘worrying about me will give you heart problems or something’ Timbo”

“Never said I was good with words” Tim responded, laughing now. Like all the worries he’d had suddenly disappeared. Not because blowing a scar off of Jason's face was a good thing - he was still mad at himself about that - but because Jason was being, well, normal. 

He wouldn’t be like that if he was about to send him right back to Drake or Wayne Manor, right? There was a slight chance that Jason's theatre kid tendencies were coming through. Tim had been in the audience when he played Mercutio at his school's production of Romeo and Juliet once- those acting skills were damn good. Probably useful on the field too. 

“Okay, well, I have to talk to you about something. And, I’m not that good with words either when it comes to like, emotions. That stuff. You probably noticed, I’m horrible at comforting”

“You’re delusional if you think that you aren’t good at comforting”

“Or you just have no standards. Anyway, go sit down, this is serious” 

“Oh my god I’m soo scared” Tim sat down on the chair beside the hospital bed while Jason kept pacing around the room. Shouldn’t he be lying down? Yeah it was only his face but didn’t that require rest too? 

Technically, Tim was pretty good at wound care. But after ignoring his own injuries so many times, he’d kind of lost the concept of what a bad wound was and what really required rest. So, he simply let Jason go on, trying to get his mind back on track. 

Right. Serious. Important. 

Stop thinking about fucking T-Rexes Tim. Not the time or place. 

God, his brain really did anything but be helpful when it came to anything outside of work. 

After a while of pacing, Jason seemed to finally have worked out the courage to say whatever he was planning to say. 

“I could adopt you. Want to adopt you. If you want that.” 

Oh. 

“Are you like, sure about that?” 

“Sure enough to make myself legally alive and have the papers sitting at home” 

Still, wasn’t he- 

No he wasn’t. Jason had turned 18 while he was away. This was possible. Technically. 

Fuck he needed to get the guy a birthday present. 

It felt like his mind was laying on the floor in front of him, completely scattered. How could he respond to that? 

Tim had walked into this room, fully expecting to not have a home by the time that he would get out again. But this? 

It was a permanent solution. A permanent offer. Jason would have to fight the Drakes for custody, he’d have to do so much stuff -

There’d be people checking in on them every few weeks. Making sure that things were going well. Once this happened, there was no way out for Jason. 

“Are you doing this because you feel bad or something?”

“Nope. Definitely not”

“Then why?” 

“I want to make sure that you can stay with me as long as you want to. I- If you want this, neither Bruce or your parents have any say over you anymore. I mean, you could get emancipated too, but you’re only fifteen and I want you to have someone who’s responsible for you. There for you. And I want to be that person” 

Oh. Whoa. 

Seemed like he really cared, huh?

That was going to be a tough one to really accept. Tim had always had a particularly thick skull when it came to things like that. 

But this… could change everything. Jason would give him the freedom he wanted while also being there when he needed him, Tim knew that. 

“Wait but before I answer that- Are you permanently working with the bats now? I’m sorry I just-” 

“No! I literally only did that to save you. How do you even know about that? Oh god did that little shit Damian tell you I swear to god-” 

“He didn’t. Ra’s showed me footage” he said it before he could really think about the implications of that. About the fact that he was revealing much more than planned about his time at the league. 

“He did what!? Why?” 

“Just some talk to convince me to join the league, nothing much” Tim attempted to deflect. Fuck he hated where this conversation was going. 

“Okay we’re talking about that. We can do it later at home if you want to but I am not forgetting about that, alright? Now, uhm” he almost instantly sounded softer again, worried even. 

“About the adoption thing?” 

“Of course. Yes. Totally. Sounds chill man” fucking hell, could he even have responded in a weirder way?

“Great” Jason answered, smiling a little now. 

“You want to take your super boyfriend with you? He’s been standing outside and I’m like half sure that he’s listening in to make sure you’re okay” 

“Not boyfriend- uh, it’s complicated” fuck, Tim hadn’t asked if Kon was ready for others to know yet. Why did he have to just say shit before he even got to thinking about it.

“Did he break up with you? Oh my god I swear if he did I’m fucking beating him up. Are you okay? Do you need chocolate or something? I’m sorry I never had a breakup before-” 

Jason started rambling, and while it was kind of adorable and really nice of him to immediately go into overprotective mode like that, Tim did have to stop him before he ran outside and actually tried to beat up the love of his life who was also a superpowered alien clone that could crush him in seconds. 

“No we didn’t, it’s just- I’ll explain at some point, okay? I’m fine” 

“Sure?” 

Fuck Tim would never get over the silly weird happiness that filled him every time that Jason got like this. It wasn’t like he wanted to worry him, but in a way, it proved that he did care. That this was safe. 

“Very. Now, are you going to actually rest or should we go home?” 

Jason sighed dramatically before sitting back down onto the bed. 

“I don’t need rest. Go pack whatever you still have left in your room here, I’ll let Alfred put some bandages on this. Meet me at the door in twenty?” 

“Sure” Tim said, leaving the room and walking right back into Kon's arms. 

Maybe, life could actually be good for once.

Chapter Text

“Wally you need to hear this!”

“Go away” 

It had been five days since it happened. Since he gave up on finding him. 

Even though he was the fastest man alive, he still could not follow the man he loved. 

Pathetic. 

“It’s about Dick!”

What could those news be? Had he finally died? That was the only way that coma could end, and they all knew it. The big old bat was just trying to cling onto hope that had long been lost. Too foolish to show up when his son had been dying, and too stubborn to let go now that it was too late. 

Honestly, Wally would give anything to see him again, but batsy wasn’t letting anyone in. As if he deserved to be with him after all of this. As if Wally hadn’t been the one holding his hand when he woke up briefly, asking why his father wasn’t there. 

He’d been there, and now Dick was somewhere he couldn’t find, hidden away in some sterile bed where only the bat could see him. Was he even sitting there with him? Or was his mission for justice once again too important to even miss a single night of strolling through Gotham and beating up goons in order to spend some time with his almost-dead son?

Maybe he’d at least been invited to the funeral. 

Wally doubted it, honestly. A funeral for Nightwing would mean that his Identity got revealed. And while Wally long knew who he was, there was a slight chance that someone noticed the obvious lack of ties between Wally West and Dick Grayson. Paranoid bat-stard. 

“Wally, come out! You need to come with me goddamn it!”

Bart had been trying to convince him to step out of his apartment for five days now. Barry, too. Neither of them had succeeded. They probably would’ve tried to break in and force him to do something , but thankfully, he’d installed a little something against that a while ago. 

The speed-dampening in his walls hadn’t exactly been to keep others out, it was more to keep himself inside. It hadn’t always been easy to control his speed after he came out of the speed force, and this helped him at least not run holes into the walls. But it also worked pretty well to keep any other speedsters from doing the same. 

“Bart give up. Shouldn’t you be comforting Tim or something?”

“No! I’m not comforting anyone! No one’s grieving!”

“What do you mean by that?” 

There was no way. He couldn’t wake up. Literally scientifically impossible, that was what he’d been telling himself for days now-

And still, a small part of him dared to hope that it was true. 

“He’s not dead! He was never even in a coma! Now, follow me?” 

It wasn’t even a decision. Before he could properly think about what Bart had just said - which was very fast, considering that his thoughts often went at the speed of light - he jumped up, opened the door and already found Bart running. 

The location of the Batcave had always been a mystery to him. Sure, he’d been there, but only after getting there with the Zeta tubes. How to find it outside of those? No Idea. And for the past week, the cave had been cut off from all systems. 

But after a few seconds of running, that was where Bart had led him. Of course. It made total sense. Where else would he be?

Why would he be alive at all?

And there he was. Sparring with Robin-

Nope. Not the Robin he knew. That certainly wasn’t Tim, the costume was completely different and he also had way darker skin. 

Fuck this was way too much information way too fast, even for the damn flash. 

Dick’s alive . 

He’s alive. Holy shit. He’s alive he’s alive omg-

“Dick?” Wally called out, not wanting to wait even a second longer until he was done sparring. 

The boy stopped the smaller Robin, turning around way too slowly, Wally was going to lose his damn mind if he didn’t say something right now -

“Walls?” it came out as if something was wrong, as if he was confused, as if Wally wasn’t even supposed to be there-

Well, he probably wasn’t. After all, Dick seemed to be doing more than okay, and still, the only person who had told him was Bart.