Chapter Text
Tim watched Cass jump through the air, her form perfect as she landed atop a rooftop and tucked her grappling gun in her utility belt. He smiled as he watched. The Batman suit looked amazing on her, it was as if she were made to be Batman and Tim felt comfortable knowing that even whenever Bruce finally put down the cape and retired, Gotham would be in good hands.
Others in the hero world always thought that Dick would become Batman one day. Which this was understandable, he was the eldest. But he wasn’t Batman, the last time he had to wear the cape it nearly broke something inside of him. It wasn’t that Dick wasn’t good enough to be Batman, it was that he was far too light to be Batman. He couldn’t handle the burden of the cowl and cape.
Jason wasn’t in the running, as far as the Justice League was concerned, he was still a criminal. The fact that it took Tim dying to reform him, well, it had Tim feeling some kind of way. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Whether he should be honored that his death impacted Jason so much or if he should be horrified that the death of another Robin was what it took. Regardless, he couldn’t do Batman, it would break him.
Damian, maybe one day after years of growth. But Tim didn’t want him to be. Not out of some selfish reason or anything of the sort, he didn’t want Damian to do it out of some sort of sick obligation. He was born to be Ra’s replacement or to become Batman, Tim wanted him to do it because he truly wanted it. Not because he felt like he had to.
A sigh slipped through the air and Tim found himself floating closer to his sister. As he looked at her closer, he could see it even more clearly. Her shoulders were tense, her mouth visible under the Batman cowl was twisted up in a frown.
“What’s wrong?” He whispered, knowing she wouldn’t hear him. He flew around her, taking in her stance, the way her shoulders were folding inward. Tim was Cass’ first friend, he could read her nearly as good as she could read everyone else. Right now he could tell that something was going on.
She let out another breath and looked down at the ground below and shuddered slightly. Tim frowned and despite his brain telling him now, he found himself leaning forward and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I miss you,” he whispered in her ear, allowing Cass to hear him. Her head shot up and Tim thanked his lucky stars he was intangible else his nose would have been broken.
“Tim,” she croaked out in that scratchy, harsh voice of hers that Tim missed. She had just started to find her voice only recently and what a beautiful, imperfect voice it was. In a more broken voice, she uttered: “miss you baby brother.”
Tim smiled and pressed his cheek against hers and let out a cold breath, letting his shadows wrap around his sister in a comforting hug, hoping that they felt warm and welcoming rather than cold. Cass shuddered once again and looked around the roof before she bit her lip and stepped away from the edge of the roof. She pulled out her grappling gun and shot it out at the nearest building. Tim watched with a small smile as she flew off into the night and did the same.
He soon found himself in the Batcave where Dick and Damian stood on the mats facing one another. Damian looked upset.
Tim landed on the ground and walked over, walking around his baby brother, looking him up and down curiously.
“This is ridiculous, Grayson. I do not need extra training, I should be out there patrolling with Batman. Not here needlessly training over something as ridiculous as sensitivity,” he said with a scoff. Tim glanced over now and found that Dick had a whiteboard beside him and let out a soft chuckle.
Someone must have been a little too harsh with a victim.
“Damian, you told a woman being attacked that she was making herself into a victim,” Dick said with a sigh. “She was just walking home from work when that man jumped her.”
“She shouldn’t have been wearing something so obscene,” Damian said with a huff and Dick’s lips pinched into a look of frustration.
“She should be allowed to wear whatever she wants without fear of being attacked,” Dick told him passionately and before Tim could stop himself, he found his arms wrapped around Dick’s middle, hugging him tight. Dick let out a soft gasp of surprise before he shook his head. “Listen to me, Damian. I know what it’s like to be told I was asking for it because of one reason or another. It’s never their fault, it’s their attacker’s fault and you need to understand that,” Dick said gently, walking through Tim to rest his hand on Damian’s shoulder.
“That happened to you,” Damian stated and Dick nodded, his eyes sad. “Did you kill who hurt you?”
Dick shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice cracking just a bit. “But I’m okay now, I’m a lot better. But you have to understand that our job is to make sure that it doesn’t happen to others. We’re here to protect and care.”
“Protect and care,” Damian said quietly. He looked away from Dick and stared over to the right and Tim followed his gaze to find a new glass case sitting beside Jason’s. Tim stared at his Robin’s suit and chewed on his lip. He knew that Bruce had hung up a case but he couldn’t bring himself to look at it for too long without feeling sick to his stomach.
It was odd, he didn’t actually get bodily sick, but sometimes ideas still made him feel nauseous.
“Timothy, he told me once that being Robin meant being a light during someone else’s darkest moment,” Damian said quietly, stepping towards the case. “He said that Robin was meant to be kind and caring.”
Dick gave him a pained smile. “He was right.”
“Why did he do it?” Damian asked, tilting his head to the side. “There had to have been other options. He could have chosen to just live a different life and then that future would have never happened. Right?”
Dick let out a slow breath and Tim stared at his eldest brother with bated breath. He was curious what Dick had to say about it.
“I think Tim was dealing with more than we knew,” Dick said slowly. The eldest Wayne son walked towards the case and stared up at it with sad eyes. “I think it was a combination of things. Kori told me that before this instance, they had seen the future before and that Tim was evil then as well. So I think some of it was fear that no matter what he did, his future would be set in stone as villainous.”
“Do you agree?” Damian asked and Dick shook his head.
“I think it would always be a possibility, there’s always a possibility that someone’s morals can be corrupted in the name of doing what is considered right. But I think Tim would have done everything he could to keep that future from happening. I also think, though, that Tim was depressed. Think about it, Dames, his two best friends died, his father died, you hated him, Jason hated him. Not to mention whatever else he might have kept from us.”
Tim watched Dick press his hand against the glass case, his forehead creased. He wanted to reach out, to say something, to do something to comfort his brother, to beg him to not blame himself.
He couldn’t handle this anymore, the watching, the grieving. It was starting to eat him alive.
“Looking back now, I just see the signs,” Dick said quietly. “He was pulling away from all of us. He rarely left his room, he didn’t talk with his friends. He was isolating himself from everyone and everything. I don’t think he had a plan, but I think he had been thinking about it before the thing with Gun Batman.”
“I wasn’t,” Tim whispered. “I was thinking about leaving, but not–not killing myself. I was going to give Robin to Damian and then I was going to leave. I didn’t know where I was going to go, but if I wasn’t Robin then I had less of a chance of turning into him. I didn’t think about killing myself until he put the gun in my hand, until–until he said I knew what to do. It was like he was telling me that the only way to prevent him was to die.”
He knew Dick couldn’t hear him, but he had to say it. He had to say it out loud, there was never a plan.
“I think Robin is cursed Damian,” Dick said, his voice broken. “How could two of my brothers die wearing the suit? It was never supposed to be a legacy, it was never supposed to be more than an homage to my parents. But–but it’s killed two of my brothers. What if it kills you too, Damian? What if I lose another brother because of Robin?”
“We do not know all of Timothy’s reasons for dying,” Damian said quietly. “He never left us a note. For all we know, Timothy killed himself to prevent his future evil self from happening. He died a hero, Richard, that is important to remember.”
“He still died, Damian. I wasn’t there to stop him, there could have been another way. His future wasn’t set in stone, we don’t know what he would have gone down that path. Kori told me about this future, she told me that we left. I left him and Tim was alone and desperate. I left Tim to deal with everything on his own and he became that.”
Was he blaming himself?
Tim stared at his brother, frozen in place. He was blaming himself for Tim’s decision. Why was everyone blaming themselves for something Tim chose? Why were they so obsessed with what they could have done to save him? Why couldn’t they accept it was his decision? In the end it had always been his decision, he was the one who pulled the trigger, he was the one who did it.
His reasonings be damned. Looking at his family, it was so clear, it was so goddamn obvious that they loved him. His family loved him, they cherished him and adored him and he hadn’t been able to see it. He died because it was what he thought was the only option and every goddamn day he regretted his decision. He wanted to go back and shake himself, beg himself to think his actions through, to understand there was another way. There was another option.
Yes, Danny said that this future, the future with him as a ghost was a good one. But how the hell was he supposed to believe that when his family was falling apart because of his stupid fucking decision?
He needed to talk to Danny, he needed to find out just what this future was. He needed to know what was so good about this future that it would be okay for him to watch his family grieve? He needed to figure out what the hell was so important that him dying made such a good, positive significance? Why was his death meaningful? How the hell did it impact the world itself?
A sob slipped out of Dick’s mouth and Damian was hugging him and Tim felt cold. He felt freezing to his very core, his shadows seemed to wrap around him, hugging him tight. He was shaking, he could feel his entire body shuddering as his shadows wrapped around him and squeeze him tight like strong, comforting hugs. He felt them hold him tight.
Another sob escaped Dick’s mouth and Tim felt a tear streaking down his cheek. He couldn’t do this.
Tim shook his head and stepped away, away from Dick, away from Damian, away from the Batcave. A portal opened behind him and he found himself flying through, away from his brothers, away from everything.
Away, away, away.