Chapter Text
Ra’s al Ghul was dead.
Tim was frozen in place as he watched, transfixed, the small message blink into existence on the screen of the Bat-computer.
Ra’s al Ghul was dead.
A chocked sound escaped his throat, and instantly Bruce appeared at his shoulder.
Tim blinked, and the whole family was surrounding him. Damian was shaking, his hands clenching and unclenching so hard his knuckles were white, while Dick was trying to awkwardly hug him. Jason was still hiding somewhere in the Bowery on weeknights, and Cass away in Hong Kong.
Tim… Tim was scared.
Tim was panicking. Every possible scenario passed through his mind, suicide, food poisoning, a rogue member of the council of Spiders that had somehow escaped the purge… Ra’s was immortal, and so Tim had forgotten to take into account that he wasn’t unkillable after all.
Damian ran out of the cave, slamming the door forcefully on his way out, stopping Tim from spiraling out of control. There was no real reason to panic; no one here knew of his little… stunt with the League during his world tour a year prior. No one would think to question him, no one would even entertain the idea that he felt something other than the detached relief of knowing a villain had passed. And not, thank God, the sinking horror-tinged exhilaration of finally realizing you were free from the influence of your psycho, megalomaniac husband.
“I’ll… go now.” Tim didn’t recognize his voice even though he felt the words pass his lips. The world was blurry, in a removed, unreal manner that he associated with disassociation.
He needed to get out of here. Fast.
Next thing he knew he was standing on the roof of a warehouse somewhere between Diamond District and Old Gotham. It was a crumbling ruin, that was rarely use, even by desperate squatters or dealer, which was one of the main reasons that Tim used it as a safe place.
The breath stuttered out of his lungs with a wheeze, and he made a conscious effort to slow his breathing, inhaling, and exhaling like Dr Thompson had taught him. In the east the sky was already starting to light up, pink and orange clouds announcing the beginning of a new day. It had barely been dusk when the meeting in the cave had started.
It was unusual but not unheard of for Talia to send messages on the bat-computer. She was a fairly hands-off mother, preferring to leave Damian’s education and upbringing to Bruce, but sometimes she still dispensed her own advice. It was a strange, convoluted way for her to show her love, but Damian (and to some extent Tim, although he would never confess it) understood.
The message, this time, had nothing to do with Damian’s training.
Ra’s Al Ghul is dead.
Only five small words, but they were devastating.
Tim could not begin to imagine the pressure Talia was under at the moment. The League’s council, while hardly influent for the past millennia or so, was still to account for. Those old coots who had practically never even grazed an ounce of the power promised to them would now be at her throat. Being Demon head wasn’t the walk in the park Ra’s sometimes made it look like and Tim sincerely hoped the woman would manage to tame the League before he’d have to commence another ‘operation blow it all up to high heavens and ensure no survivors’.
It was good, all things considered, that Bruce had never asked what exactly Tim had been up to during the year he’d been lost in time.
Once he finally got his breathing under control and was reasonably sure he wouldn’t keel over Tim got up and began heading back to the manor.
Everything was going to be fine.
***
Everything was not fine.
Apparently, Bruce didn’t respect Talia’s right to be cryptic and demanded – in a true batman manner – for her to video-call them. (Because video-calling your ex that was now the leader of an international terrorist ninja group was a thing now)
Talia wasn’t thrilled either.
“What do I mean Ra’s dead? My father’s passed; do I need to explain to you what that means?”
“No, of course not,” Batman tried to pacify the raging woman, “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a… miscommunication.”
Talia sent him a look, that even across the screen and thousands of miles clearly translated how little she thought of his intellect in that moment.
“There was no miscommunication.”
“Ra’s is an immortal.” Trust Batman to ask questions in declarative sentence, the man couldn’t lower himself to enquire like a normal person.
“I don’t know.” Talia’s voice cracked slightly as some of her weariness bled through her composed facade, and Tim sensed more than he saw Damian and Jason tense next to him. “There are some reports that seem to say the Pits have been poisoned.”
And damn. Maybe Tim had spoken too soon. That… That was definitely his fault. How was he supposed to know that pouring one gallon of the purified water he’d stolen off from some Constantine knock-off in Spain in the Pits before hightailing out of Nanda Parbat would result in Ra’s death?
There was a beat of silence in the cave as they processed the information.
“…so, who’s running the League now?” Jason interjected, “now that the old bastards kicked the bucket?” It was a testimony of Bruce’s shock that he didn’t scold his son for the language.
“I am. At least partly.” She pursed her lips in annoyance “Some of the council members dug up old ritualistic traditions. According to them Ra’s wrote a will.” Tim didn’t know why the creepy, wrinkled fossil even bothered with a will given that he thought he’d been, allegedly, immune to death. Talia seemed to think so too if her frown was anything to go by.
“It says in the events of his untimely death the League is to fall under the jurisdiction of his ‘Beloved’.”
Oh shit…
“Well, that’s just fucking swell!” came Jason’s unwelcome and confusing exclamation. Tim was not in the right state of mind to listen to people celebrating his misfortune. What the actual fuck was his life right now?!
Dick sent Jason a questioning look and he elaborated:
“The dude’s ancient, right? That means the poor chick that married him must be long dead. She’s probably no more than a pile of dust if we’re lucky!”
Yeah, no. Nope with a capital ‘N’. Nada, nein, non…
He must’ve said it aloud because Talia’s head swiveled in his direction, followed closely by all the bats’.
Her eyes widened.
“You!”
“umm… me?” Tim replied very eloquently.
“You little –” Her screech quickly devolved in Arabic, which Tim couldn’t understand beyond the basic “I'll kill you” and frankly insulting "little boy", but going by the look of dawning horror and bewilderment on Damian and Bruce’s face he could safely infer it wasn’t anything complimentary.
After a terrifying five minutes where Tim was sure Talia had just outed him to his entire family in a language he couldn’t even understand, she finally stopped. Her face was red, her hair disheveled and the gleam in her eyes positively bloodthirsty but at least she wasn’t screaming obscenities at him anymore.
“Who the fuck is it that married my father? Was it that bald bitch? I am going to skin her alive and boil her in oil, I will-"
“What are you talking about?”
“You tell me who I need to kill, you twerp!” Talia barked, ignoring the confounded reaction of more than half her audience.
Tim felt the blood steadily drain from his face and began to feel lightheaded. This was all derailing out of control. It wasn’t even in the domain of control anymore, just straight off in the wilderness and tumbling directly off the cliff and into the abyss.
“What are you talking about.” The growl wasn’t Bruce Wayne, it wasn’t even Batman-father-of-many, no, it was all Dark Knight and danger.
“This little motherfucker knows who married Ra’s!” Talia spat “He blew most of the League’s bases up, and he knows, he knows.”
The glare she sent his way was venomous.
Distantly, Tim registered Batman talking, there was some noise, screaming and cursing.
They didn’t know it was him.
They didn’t know it was him.
They thought Ra’s had married some woman, probably Pru, and that Tim had somehow? officiated the ceremony?
If it had been any other situation, he’d have made fun of their heteronormative mindset. Now, he figured it would be safer to play their game, lean into their expectations until he found a way to resolve the problem entirely.
“I am not at the liberty to disclose such information.” The sentence that left his mouth was cold and practiced, all of the Drake and none of the Wayne.
Everyone shut up and stared at him.
.
.
.
“What the actual fuck Timbo?”
“You will reveal your knowledge at once Drake! I do not care for your theatrics!”
“Tim…” Batman’s warning rumble made Tim gulp loudly. He needed to be very careful of what he was going to say next.
“I… I have been bound by a contract,” he looked pointedly at Bruce “and cannot reveal any information concerning what happened.”
He stayed resolutely silent in the face of the onslaught of questions his siblings threw at him. Bruce would understand surely.
“Magic.”
Thankfully Talia was also quick on the uptake and fell directly into Tim’s trap. Batman was notoriously wary of any magical activity, and wouldn’t (Tim hoped) risk the safety of one of his operatives over the secret wife of Ra’s Al Ghul.
Tim nodded jerkily and Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll call Zatanna.”
***
The manor, after the bombshell that had been dropped down in the cave, was eerily silent. When people talked it was only in hushed whispers, as if addressing Tim would trigger some unknown reaction that would call the wrath of all the assassins down on them.
In the end, it wasn’t far from the truth.
***
From: Tiny_Tim
To: PruDense
We need to talk.
***
Tim’s phone beeped, before the automatized, grating voicemail answered, and he angrily jabbed at the ‘end’ button, ready to hurl the device at a nearby wall. Just then, the obnoxious Kim possible ringtone made him drop the phone. Tim dived to catch it, his hands shaking so hard it took him three tries before he managed to pick up.
“What the fuck Pru!” was the first thing he said, “A heads up would’ve been nice!”
“Well, I’m sorry asshole, but I had more pressing things to do than inform you of Ra’s death. Surviving, for example, took priority.”
“I had to hear it from Talia. Talia, Prudence. Do you know how scary that woman is when she’s threatening to disembowel you to your face? Downright terrifying, I tell you. Also,” Tim licked his lips, guilt crunching his insides “I wanted to give you a head’s up: Talia’s doubtlessly looking for you right now.”
He heard a sharp inhale of breath on the other end, quickly followed by the muffled sound of gunshots.
“Why in all seven hells would she be looking for me? I sure as hell didn’t kill Ra’s, and if I did, I’d be taking the credit and not hiding.”
“Well…” this was awkward, “About that…”
“You didn’t?” Pru laughed, sounding more like a hyena than a human being “Of course you did.”
“Also,” in for a penny, in for a pound. And Tim knew he could trust Pru. You didn’t almost die with someone and not become friends, “I mayormaynotbeRa’shusbandandheir.”
“What.”
“I said, I may or may not be Ra’s husband and heir.”
“No, I heard you the first time.” Pru cut in, “I was just… what?”
“Yeah, that was my reaction too.”