Archive of Our Own ^beta

Cloning attempt 96 initiated.
Attempt unsuccessful.

Cloning attempt 97 initiated.
Attempt unsuccessful.

Cloning attempt 98 initiated.
Attempt unsuccessful.

Cloning attempt 99 initiated.
Attempt unsuc-

A batarang hit the screen. One of the sharp wings buried deep into the glass of the monitor, sending little lightning-shaped cracks over the screen. The female computer voice died before it could finish its report. 

Another failed trial. Of course. What did Tim think? That he could just make another clone with all the memories that belonged to Kon? Who remembered everything he and Tim had gone through together? A clone that would wear the same grin? Make the same stupid jokes? Did Tim even think at all?

He threw another batarang at the computer. For good measure.

No. The cloning wouldn't work. Tim knew - for fucks sake, ofcourse he knew. But to hell with that, he was desperate. And desperate people do desperate things. Like spending night after night without sleep. Like falling down a rabbit hole of websites. Like finding the description of an ancient ritual on one of said websites. Like following the step by step guidance of a resurrection spell from the internet.

Desperate times. Desperate measures. And, evidentally, Tim was just the perfect mixture of desperate and sleep deprived. How else would anyone be able to explain his current situation later?

There was blood on his hands. Literally speaking (well figuratively speaking as well, probably). It was dark, covering his fingers like the fingerpaint he had used as a child. Just that this time, Tim had the feeling, that the reason for the colour on his fingers, was by far more unsettling than back then. He wasn't quite sure if the blood’s his own or someone else's or if it was even human at all. His tired eyes distorted the already dimly lit room he was currently in. Cold sweat ran down his forehead. He could feel it roll over his temples. A bloodily hand shot up to drag the sweat forcefully off his face. There was no blood left on his forehead as he pulled back: It’s already dried. Tim exhaled slowly, a small smile tucking at his lips. He must have been down for a while. His body really just took the sleep on its own if Tim doesn’t give it of his free will. 

Hilarious…

From what he could tell, he was still in his Red Robin suit sans the gloves. The material was specially made in a way that makes it easy to clean blood off of it. The thought of that calmed him down slightly. At least Alfred won’t be mad at me later. Tim suppressed the urge to also run his hand through his hair and instead tried orienting himself in the now and then.

Almost immediately his Robin training kicked in. "Robin, report" He could almost hear the order B would bark at him (and every other Robin and Ex-Robin). Never failing to get an immediate reaction out of any of them. “Such an obedient little bird, following orders even if Batman isn’t around.” Jason’s taunting voice was immediate. Tim could only roll his eyes, of course his brain had to make him hear voices now. Okay, he was sorry. He would treat himself to lots of sleep and food when he was done here.

Tim looked around the big open space. Where am I? Some light shone in from above. Fullmoon. So, it was night. Likely in some vacant warehouse. Next question.

Am I in danger? Any wounds? What is my condition? Tim let his senses wander through his body. Just how he had done so many times before. His arms. There was a cut that stung on his left upper arm. He didn't remember its origin. His hands and feet were fine. He could sense a dull pain in his right leg. He remembered that injury. It's older. The rest of his body was fine. (Ignoring the obvious fact that he had just fainted.)

"Not only your body Tim." He could hear the exhausted voice of B in his head. He sounded more like a tired father than the dark knight in that moment. "Continue the report." Slightly impaired vision, likely due to lack of sleep. “You know there is more. Something is missing.” This time it was Dick’s worried voice, urging him to look further. What? What could be-

Memories. It hit him like the back of one of Jason’s pistols. How did Tim get here? Thinking back to the last couple of days felt like trying to remember a dream. It was blurry. He remembered some details here and there. There had been another failed cloning attempt. Lot's of coffee. A fight with Bruce. Dick’s disapproval and Jason’s worried hand on his shoulder. You knew it was bad if Jason ‘The Red Hood’ Todd showed his sympathy openly. Then, an ancient ritual. And after that?

What am I doing here? Tim looked around. He took in more and more of the room. For the first time he realised that he was lying on the floor. Sprawled out on his back. Turning his head to the side he found red lines on the floor. No, not just red - bloody. There were candles standing on the edge of the blood-painting. And they all seemed to center around some stone plate.

The ritual. “Took you a while to remember.” Jason yawned as he leaned against the stone plate. “Wasn’t that the whole thing you’re in this situation?” Tim’s eyes narrowed in on his older brother. He could really do without that sarcasm. But Jason just shifted his uninterested gaze from Tim over to the stone plate, inviting Tim to follow.

Did he already do it? Did he manage to summon the Ghost King? Did Tim already ask for his one and only wish? The thing he wanted most in the whole world? Just the thought of the possibility of Kon being with him right now, somewhere in this room, pumped a wave of adrenaline through Tim’s body. He could almost see the blue eyes he’d been yearning for, for so long, in front of him.

Slowly more and more memories flooded his head. How he had put everything together. The blood was indeed his own. Likely where the cut on his arm stem from. He had smuggled the candles from the Wayne manor to this warehouse which he had found on a patrol a few weeks back. Then he’d followed the instructions step by step, reading from his phone. 

Tim rolled around and slowly helped himself off the cold ground. He groaned as he felt every fiber in his body protest against the movement. Standing upright caused him to stagger and black dots filled his vision for a moment. His head was killing him. Protesting, screaming for more rest. Used to these old companions of his, Tim stood still, waiting for his mind to follow his body's movement fully. He could feel his brother’s amused eyes on him all the while he waited for his head to quiet down, the room to stop spinning and his vision to focus again.

That's when he finally saw them.

Blue eyes. Fixated on him. 

When he opened his mouth for the first time, it was like something invisible went inside and snatched all the words right from his tongue. Only a small croak made its way over Tim’s lips. He closed his mouth, gulped down the lump in his throat and tried again. "Kon?" It was hardly more than a breathless whisper, but in the silence of the warehouse Tim might as well have screamed the name out loud. So he had managed to do it after all? Was that really him? Had he brought back his Kon?

"Danny, actually." The boy - Danny - answered calmly, destroying Tim’s fantasy as fast as it had formed. "I'd give you a hand, but-" He waved with one of his hands, as good as one could, considering it was bound to the stoneplate he was fixated on.

“A sacrifice, remember?” Strong hands came down on Tim’s shoulders. Dick’s voice sounded right next to his ear. The last memories clicked in place. Tim putting on his Red Robin costume. Him crouching on top of a building looking down. Waiting. Observing. Detecting. A lone boy with hair as dark as Gotham's night and eyes as blue as Metropolis's sky by day. So, Red Robin had followed him. Followed and kidnapped him.

“Perfect” Jason grinned from his side right next to the boy. His arms were lazily crossed over his chest as if he couldn’t wait to get this over with and go watch a movie.

“Perfect?” Tim echoed, more to himself than anyone else really. There’s an innocent boy, who’s probably traumatized for life and Red Hood, protector of women and children, just stood there like it had nothing to do with him.

“It’s not like his life will last very long.” Jason answered Tim’s thoughts. “The ritual, remember? Getting Kon back is the most important thing right now.”

Perhaps, Tim thought, this Danny wasn’t as innocent as he thought. If Jason and Dick both were okay with this-

"So, are you just gonna stare at me or what?" Danny asked. He didn't seem traumatized or scared. He looked almost intrigued. Was he perhaps not as young as he looked? Tim has seen weirder than a potentially hundred years old evil being looking like a university student.

Dick raised his voice again. It was not as steady as Jason’s - not as used to killing as the second Robin was - but it still had a certain urgency resonate with it. “A soul for a soul that’s what the ritual said, Tim.” Ah, right, after all Kon wasn’t only his best friend. Kon-El was beloved by his brothers as well. No wonder they were here with him. Tim had to be the one to make the deal, to pay the price, but his brothers would never let him go through this alone. 

When he looked at Jason this time, he could make out the flicker of pity, the other tried his best to hide. “You want to bring him back, don’t you?” That was it, Jason gave him an out. He gave him the possibility to back out. But Tim hadn’t come this far to give up now. 

He held his head a little higher, hoping to look more confident. His brothers were here to support him in whatever way they could, the least he could do was get a grip and get this over with.

Jason understood, the look he gave him, softened for just the spur of a moment before turning back into the stone mask he normally wore - a manner he had inherited from the Batman himself. “Regardless of the cost?”

Tim nodded. “Whatever it takes.”

“Yo, I am talking to you.” The boy’s voice broke through. “Really, have your parents not taught you any manners? First I’m being restrained here and now I’m being ignored.” 

A shiver ran through Tim's body. His trained Robin senses were ringing like the breakout alarm at Arkham. This kid could not just be some normal person. "Are you crazy or something?" Tim kept his voice low, in his best Batman imitation, and stared down at the boy. "Do you know what situation you are in?"

Danny pointedly looked at the drawings around them “Well context clues tell me some sort of ritual to bring back this Kon. Presumably from the dead." His clear blue eyes locked in on Tim and for a second he thought they shimmered green. "And I am the sacrifice. How am I doing Mr. Vigilante?"

Ofcourse, he had listened to the brothers talking just now. Tim stiffened ever so slightly. The movement shouldn't have been visible at all. Not in this dim light. Not to a normal human. Yet the way Danny's eyes shifted to his shoulders for a second…

“See, he isn’t even human.” Dick whispered. His hands were still resting on Tim’s shoulders. They emitted a certain warmth and support only Dick’s presence could give to Tim. “Maybe it’s good to…get rid of him in the long run. So he won’t hurt anyone else.” Tim could hear how his brother was fighting with himself. While Nightwing had his own moral code, just like Batman, he was never big on killing people. Especially the ones that were innocent, yet.

“He’s still a kid.” Tim spoke what both brothers thought. His eyes still on the boy, who answered his gaze. The boy looked even more curious at him at this point. Was he really just following their conversation as if it didn’t concern his life?

“So was Kon. And where is he? Life is unfair, kiddo.” Jason interjected with a chilling tone. “And if anyone knows, then it’s me. I died as a child myself. That’s just how it is. Some of us are luckier than others.”

Tim took several steps towards the stone plate - towards the boy. Jason wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t fair that he had died and it wasn’t fair that Kon had died. If this boy was as important to someone, as Kon was to all of them, then those people would find a way to bring him back. If not- well that wouldn’t be any of Tim’s concern anymore.

"You're awfully perceptive, aren't you." Tim growled through gritted teeth. He was standing right above the boy by now. Towering over him, standing upright. Just like always, the moment he felt threatened, Red Robin would do his best to imitate Batman. The dark knight.

"Nuhh, it was quite obvious honestly." The boy shrugged and shifted around till he was able to lay more comfortably. Given how relaxed he acted, if it weren't for the rope around his hands and feet, one could think he was just talking to a friend.

Well, then again, the rope doesn't have to mean anything. There had been this one time, Tim and Kon had tried something new in the bedroom. "You have some weird interests." Kon had grinned up at Tim, who had been fastening the cuffs around his wrists (not that Kon wouldn't have been able to break them at any given moment). "Don't act like you're not enjoying this." Tim had breathed into his ear. They had held eye contact for a while before either of them dared to move a muscle. The air filled with anticipation. Back then Tim hadn't known at the time that soon after he wouldn't be able to look into that endless blue anymore. Wouldn't have the chance to let his hands wander over the other ones muscles or tuck on his black hair. He missed the grin Kon had sent him, when Tim got caught staring at him for too long. He remembered the warmth of their bodies pressed together and then he remembered the cold stiff body he had clutched in his arms. It had taken both Cassie and Bart to stop him from the CPR he had performed on Kon's dead body.

"Hey" Danny's voice pulled him back from the memories. Concern written over the boy's face. "You're crying." 

What? Tim's finger found his cheek. His wet cheek. Tears rolling down, just like the boy had said. God how annoying.

“Just kill the boy already and get it over with.” Jason grumbled from right next to him.

"Have you ever killed someone?" Kon asked, hands fumbling in his lap.

Tim stopped typing on his computer. "Not intentionally."

For a while Kon remained silent. Tim almost turned his attention back on the computer, when the other opened his mouth again. "Could you? Kill an innocent person?"

"Why are you asking something like that all of a sudden? Are you planning on killing someone, Kon?" Tim joked. The tension in the room made him uncomfortable, so did the look in Kon's eyes. As if he wasn't even there.

"What if it was for the greater good? Or to save someone you love? Nightwing or Batman? Or-" Kon cut himself off. The silence stretched as Tim observed his boyfriend. What made him think of something like that. Was it the last mission? Tim's hand unconsciously wandered to his side, where bandages were covering the stab wound, which was still on its way to recovery. Kon had lost it, beaten up the attacker pretty brutally. Then the mask had slipped and revealed a kid. Scared and sickly and barely hanging on to consciousness. One of the very same kids they were trying to save, who'd been used by the human traffickers as a distraction so they could flee.

"I believe," Tim started out cautiously, "that affection and especially love can make us act in ways that we would never act like if we were thinking straight. As humans - and Kryptonions for that matter - we take great strength out of having emotions. Being able to love and to be loved. But at the same time, it might also be our greatest weakness." He took Kon's hand between his. "If it had been you that were hurt, I don't know what I'd be capable of and I honestly wouldn't wanna find out."

Kon's other hand found its way to his cheek. Soft fingers brushed away the tears falling from his lashes. When did I start crying? Tim saw his own reflection in Kon's green eyes: Desperate with dishevelled hair and wild eyes. A state Tim, Red Robin, would only ever show to his family and Kon. His Kon. Who was sitting in front of him. Kind eyes and ruffled hair. Concern written all over his face. Of course he would be worried with the way Tim looked.

The vigilante would just need to assure him that everything was fine. They were both together again. Everything that had happened - that Tim thought happened - was nothing but a nightmare caused by Tim's habit of overthinking. With a smile and his hands buried in the others hair, Tim went in for a soft reassuring kiss.

Pressing his lips against Kon's, like they had done so often. In the familiar way they had comforted each other after every particularly draining mission. You're here. I am fine. We are together. It was just a dream. Everything is fine. The kiss wasn’t going deeper. It had the solemn reason for them to feel each other - their breath, their warmth, see life in the other ones eyes.

This time Tim got another show of the other’s liveliness as he's shoved away. Hard. Suddenly. A knife falls to the ground with a loud metallic sound that echoes through the warehouse. A Warehouse, not their room. And Kon, he has one arm up, shielding his mouth. The other one stretched out, his hand on Tim's chest holding him at an arms length.

"What are you-" Tim cut off as he got a good look at the boy in front of him. His glowing green eyes no longer filled with concern, but rage. No. Wait. "You're not Kon." Kon doesn't look like that. And he'd surely never look at Tim that way. Kon’s eyes were never filled with anything else but love, when looking at Tim. How could he have mixed up some random boy with his Kon?

Tim heard a surprised gasp next to him. Jason. Tim couldn’t drag his gaze away from not-Kon to check if it was also Jason’s blade that had fallen to the ground. Likely.

He kept his eyes steady on the boy in front of him. Tim feared, if he looked away for even a second, he might vanish, change into Kon yet again. Tim must seriously have lost his mind from all the sleep deprivation, to mix this boy up with Kon. Good thing he had thought of bringing Jason and Dick. If he did lose it completely, they could finish the job for him.

"You need serious help, man." The boy sniffled. "I don't know who this Kon or whatever is, but I'm not him for sure."

“The ritual. You need to finish it.” Jason’s voice but a whisper, clearly still in shock from seeing his younger brother kissing some random boy.

At the same time said boy started talking again. "You know, I played along, because I felt really sorry for you-"

How? “My knife.” Jason reminded him.

"- but I do not like being kissed without consent. Really, get a grip and let's just-"

With one smooth motion, Tim grabbed the knife from the floor, pushed the boy back down on the stone tablet (how did he even get out of the restraints?) and positioned himself on top of him. His knees fixated both arms, his weight pressed down the boy's upper body and both of his hands grabbed the knife, holding it just above his head.

Then something stopped him dead in his tracks. “Wait!” Dicks voice broke through. “Are we sure- Are you sure, you wanna do that?” He suddenly had lost all his earlier eagerness.

“God, Dick” Jason groaned. The name of the first Robin sounded more like an insult than the nickname it was. “We've gone over this. You supported the decision. What's there to think about now?”

“I'm so close to having Kon back.” Tim sided with Jason. His hands were still over his head, but he felt Dick’s strong grip around his wrist.

Dick’s voice was laced with doubt. “What if the ritual doesn't work?” He couldn’t kill. He couldn’t go against his moral compass to help. Saving people was part of Dick’s DNA. Every other day, Tim would be impressed by his older brother, for going against two vigilantees. But this wasn't every other day. This was about his best friend, his boyfriend, about Kon.

Jason argued back what Tim thought. “What if it does?” He almost screamed it at Dick. “What if the ritual works and it will bring Kon back? He would have done anything to save Tim. I wish you or Bruce would have had the kind of conviction Tim shows right now, back when I died.” Jason’s mouth snapped shut. It was too late. The confession was out. The silence stretched long. 

Then Dick’s voice wove into the quiet. He deliberately ignored Jason and directed his next words at Tim. “Kon wouldn't have wanted you to become a murderer”. It wasn’t a question or an assumption. It was a warning. It was a fact. Tim knew. If he did this, and if Kon came back and found out how he came back, the Superhero would hate it. He would hate Tim. But at least he was there with Tim to hate him.

“Well” Jason found his voice again “he isn’t here to stop us now, is he? Because he is dead. and you are the only one keeping him from standing in front of us.”

Dick was already opening his mouth to argue back. At the same time the boy beneath Tim was starting to complain again.

"Just shut up!" Tim screamed at his brothers and the boy. All mouths in the room snapped shut at the same time. "I need to think. I just- One minute!"

His gaze wandered over the boy opposite him. White hair, green eyes, pale as a ghost. Why did Tim choose him again? He didn't look anything like his beloved Kon. No raven-black hair, no unnaturally blue eyes and nothing like Kon's sunkissed skin. Not even the clothes he was wearing reminded Tim of Kon.

The other boy had his lips pressed together to a thin line. The ones Tim had mistaken just a moment ago for Kon's - Oh. Oh. Oh no, he's gonna throw up, how could he kiss someone else? His lips had only been touched by Kon ever since they had gotten together. His arms, his hands, his body, his hair; it all had been touched by countless people since then. They had erased Kon’s last touches from Tim’s body.

Dick and Bruce who'd cleaned him after he didn't shower, didn't even get out of bed, for days. Too tired to even roll over at times. Alfred who'd stitched him up, when his grief had turned into rage and he went on more and more dangerous missions by himself. Steph's strong grasp around his arm, holding him back from going on another mission, which would have been a suicide. Cassie who'd silently brush his hair. Grown out beneath his shoulders from the lack of care.

And while they all only had his best interest at heart, with every touch, every shower, every brush through his hair, they had slowly wiped out Kon's touch from Tim's body. And now… The last of Kon had been removed. All because of this stranger.

And that was all it took for Tim to find out after all, what he's capable of, if someone took Kon from him.

The knife went down, towards the boy's chest. His heart. 

Tim was out for blood. Deadly. Acting on pure instinct. Not thinking clearly - or at all. As Robin, Tim had learned to stay calm in most situations. This one was apparently not one of them. Otherwise he would have paused the moment that boy's eyes had started glowing unnaturally green or when his hair had changed colour. To hell, he would have stopped to reconsider the moment an university student had been able to push Red Robin off so easily.

How could he have known that he had captured the Ghost King, who he was trying to make a deal with. And what else could that thing be?

Because right now, Tim was thrown against the wall, his head colliding with hard stone. And Danny (or whatever) hovered above him. He didn't look human. He hadn't been for a while, but now it was clear even to Tim in his mad state of mind - he had fucked up big time. 

The Ghost King opened his mouth and Tim could see teeth as sharp as Green Arrow's arrows. "I tried doing this the nice way, but you must have absolutely lost your mind." The words came thundering down on Tim, deeper than even Bruce's voice and seemingly coming from everywhere. "I thought, I should give you the benefit of the doubt, since you're a Bat. But you'd have killed an innocent child." The Ghost King sounded not just angry, he was outride bewildered. Disgusted by Tim’s action.

Tim's eyes wandered down from the sharp teeth to the even sharper fingernails. No, not nails, claws. If Tim got hit by one of those he wouldn't be able to hide the wound that would remain. Bruce would kill him for doing something this stupid. Well, no not Bruce - he had a no kill rule after all - but the Ghost King, Tim would be surprised if the Ghost King had any qualms about making someone into, well, a ghost.

So, that's how he'd die. That's- "How ironic." The laughter that broke out of his chest sounded crazy. Did JJ come back? Did Tim hit his head hard enough so now one of the screws he had taken so long to tighten was loose again?

The Ghost King just stared down at him. Emotionless, now that his rage had subsided.

"The ritual-" Tim pressed out through his laughter. His palms pressed into his eyes, where tears had formed. Whether from laughter or fear, the boy didn't know. "It was supposed to bring me back together with Kon." More giggling. "And now that you're going to kill me, I guess my plan worked out anyways."

The warehouse was filled with Tim's cackling. And only when it turned into heavy breathing another sound was added. Slow foot steps coming closer and closer. And Tim finally took away his hands and fixed his gaze at Danny. When spoke his voice was steady. Tim had reached a conclusion. It was so simple, the answer to his situation had been dangling in front of his eyes all the time, he had just been too out of his mind to realise- "I know you don't owe me anything, but can you make it quick? I have been waiting so long for this moment." His hands felt around until he found what he was looking for. Then he shot into an upright position, earning a surprised backstep from Danny, and got hold of one of the ghost's wrists.

"What-" Tim was still holding his hand, as Danny looked down at the knife Tim had pressed into it. "Hey!" The ghost tried to pull away. Tim leaned closer. The knife pressed into the chest armour of his suit.

"I know you are strong enough to push the knife through." Was that a grin he heard in his own voice? "Just use that same strength you used a moment ago to throw me against the wall." His grip on the other tightened a bit more. He was so close now, he couldn’t fail now. Not when he could almost see Kon. Tim was sure, if he just stretched out his arm a bit more, he could touch him-

"Stop it, man. You're fucking insane!" Danny let go of the knife when he realised Tim wouldn't loosen his grip. It shattered against the ground. The moment it took Tim to shift his focus from the knife back to Danny, was enough for the other one to free himself and take a couple of steps back.

Insane? Yeah, perhaps Tim was just that. Out of his mind. Batshit crazy. His grin grew wider as he looked up at Danny.

What now? The other didn't seem like he wanted to kill Tim. Another one of those with a fucking moral code. Even though Tim had asked so nicely. But if Danny wouldn't kill Tim, then-

"Then you can't reunite with me." Kon whispered into Tim's ear. He could feel the other one's body pressed against him from behind; firm and warm. One hand placed in his nape, reassuring, as the other one slid down his arm to his hand.

"Kon," he gasped. Eyes unfocused, as he concentrated solely on the voice he had feared to never hear again. How Tim had yearned to hear him talk once more. He would have given his soul - perhaps he already had - for that sound to grace his ears once more. "Oh Kon. Kon you came back for me. I thought I had lost you for good. I thought I had fucked it up again. I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner." The tears were back once more. How Tim had still water left in him, he wasn’t sure.

"Don’t cry, my love. I’m here. You did it." Oh that voice. Tim would recognise it in a crowded room. At one of Bruce's galas. Even in the midst of a war. "You know what you must do, right?" The voice of the person Tim would trust blindly. If it said jump, Tim would jump. If it said run, he was already a block away. And if it said to follow him anywhere-

Kon's hand guided Tim to the knife, taking it up one last time, bringing it to his throat. "Kon. I missed you so much." Tim’s voice but a whisper, tears streaming down his face. Tears of longing, of waiting for so long, of anticipation to finally finally be back with his love. This was it. This was the moment he had wished for all this time.

"I missed you to death." Kon breathed. "What took you so long?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Tim could feel the cold metal press into his throat, the heat of the pain, as it broke through the skin. But the pain wasn’t agonizing. Tim welcomed it with open arms. And then everything went dark. The last thing he saw were beautiful blue eyes, full of love, looking down on him with a smile.

"Now everything is gonna be okay. I'll make sure you won't ever need to cry anymore."

Tim slipped into the darkness with a smile on his lips.

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

Danny had seen a lot of things. When he was kidnapped by the Red Robin he had seen it as a welcome distraction from his boring life. Perhaps he would even get out of his current assignment (or at least get an extension) if he could prove he’d been taken by one of Gotham’s vigilantes.

What he hadn’t anticipated was whatever mess he had been dragged into. At first he had been almost amused by the, admittedly, extremely messy state Red Robin had been in. But who wouldn’t be, if the person who had kidnapped someone as a sacrifice finished putting up the whole ceremony and then just laid down on the bare ground to take a nap?

Then the other had started mumbling things to himself, talking out loud, screaming. He had stared at the air besides Danny. That was about when Danny realized this wasn’t just some fun way to spend his free time. Perhaps a bit too late considering everything coming after.

Red Robin’s voice was hardly audible. "Kon. I missed you so much." The Bat seemed to have forgotten Danny completely at this point. His pupils were dilated enough to cover half of his blue iris. Tears rolled down from his eyes over his cheeks and framing the content smile.

This smile was what kept Danny’s feet frozen to the ground. It was what kept his mind from understanding what the "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" the vigilante croaked, meant. And the smile, so unreal, so misplaced in this situation, kept him from reacting as the knife slid right through the exposed skin on the other’s neck.

Red Robin fell like a stone. His eyes were closed. He was smiling. Danny could feel the life leaving the body, before he even hit the ground. The dark red blood collected around the boy like a puddle. The red bird looked like he was merely sleeping, like he was dreaming the happiest of dreams.

How Danny wished this was the case.

That night the Ghost King waited in silence till a tall dark figure stopped in front of him. Even the cowl couldn’t mask the endless grief the moment the Bat saw his fledgling. The Ghost King watched as a father cautiously slid his arms under the lifeless body of his son. He pressed the boy against his chest as if he could still protect him from the evil of the world.

Batman would remember that night as yet another time he had failed one of his children.

The night in which Gotham had failed one of its own protectors.

The night in which another bird had lost its wings.

The night Red had covered the third Robin.