Chapter Text
There was always a certain shift that happened in Batman whenever he talked to kids that were hurt or scared.
He would speak more softly, maybe even kneel down in front of them to personally assure them that they were safe now. It made sense, Tim thought, to not want to intimidate those that he was supposed to be protecting.
And, it made sense on a deeper level too because Batman wasn’t just Batman, he was Bruce Wayne, and had only been a kid himself when he watched his parents die. He knew what it was like to be scared, to be upset, to be hurting.
Batman knew exactly what he needed to say, just like how Tim always knew that when this shift happens, when Batman kneels down in front of a scared or hurt kid, that he shouldn’t take any photos. The kid was already having the worst day of their life, it wasn’t fair if Tim took advantage of their misery just to get a good shot of the vigilante comforting them.
He’d like to say that he would turn away too, and let the kid be vulnerable without an audience but… Well, sometimes when Tim Drake watched Batman hug a kid, it would make Tim feel a little warm too. It wasn’t that Tim himself needed a hug, he was nine now, practically an adult. He didn’t need someone to hug him or to assure him that everything was alright now.
Tim would just be making sure that no bad guys took advantage of Batman’s distraction. No one was going to be able to sneak up on the hero, not with Tim watching out for him. Yes, that was the reason; he was protecting Batman, nothing more.
Now, if Tim would sneak back into his house later and replay Batman’s soft assurances that you are safe now, and that it’s going to be alright, or especially you’re not alone anymore, again and again as he fell asleep, that was simply because he might one day write a biography on the world’s greatest detective and every single quote would need to be as accurate as possible to prove that the scary Bat had a soft kind side too.
It wasn’t because Tim himself needed the comfort, because Tim was fine. He could take care of himself and he had even managed to turn on the back up generator during the recent storm all by himself, making sure that his parent’s priceless artifacts would not be affected by any changes to the air quality and temperature within Drake Manor.
He may have zapped himself in the process of getting the generator working, sure, but he had managed to do it all the same.
No, Tim didn’t need any reassurances. He was fine. Absolutely fine. His parents had once again extended their trip, for the third time for this particular dig, but Tim wasn’t going to be upset because he was nine and he was old enough to look after himself now.
But tonight when Batman set a hand on Robin’s shoulder, and told him that he had done really well, Tim suddenly felt furious.
It had been Tim that had drawn the attention of the gunman, leading them away from the hostages, not Robin. Robin had just been the one to sweep in and free the victims while Tim lead the bad guys away exactly where Batman could then find them and take them out.
He knew that he shouldn’t be mad at Jason Todd for taking the praise, god knows with the life Jason has had until now he had earned it, but Tim couldn’t help but be a little mad. This was one of the few times that Tim actually somewhat deserved the acknowledgement, he had secretly confronted three grown men with guns after all and had made sure that none of the people they had taken were hurt.
Tim had never planned on bringing attention to himself, but when Batman congratulated Robin on the save, Tim hadn’t been able to hide his scoff.
But then Robin rocked forward on his heels, smiling ear to ear, and suddenly Tim felt terrible for wanting the attention instead. He ducked his head low, remembering that he should have known better than to expect genuine praise to be directed at him.
Then again, the distraction tonight had resulted in Tim’s favourite camera to be shattered and now he was surrounded by pieces of glass and plastic all the while Batman was commending Robin, so maybe it was okay for Tim to be a little bit jealous.
Tim couldn’t even hold back the huff of frustration either as he sank down onto the ground, his back pressed up against the stone wall of the building the duo were standing on.
He should have known better than to stay in the alleyway though, he should have left the area as soon as the bad guys were subdued, because now all of a sudden Batman’s voice had cut off and the night had turned eerily silent. Even the ever present car alarms and police cars decided to take a break for once and Tim felt ice run through his entire body.
His heart sank, realising that Batman must have heard him. He chewed his lip, pressing harder against the wall and willing himself to disappear into it. He couldn’t afford to have Batman and Robin know that he was here, if they did then they would inevitably ask why he was out here late at night in the first place.
While he could claim that he was just taking some photos of the stars, the sky was filled with its usual miserable smog and with one of the lights on the main street flickering, he couldn’t say that he was taking photos of Gotham itself either. Tim couldn’t afford to have them ask about the camera, not when all that was on the SD cards were literally photos of themselves.
No, Tim could in no way risk them finding that card.
He had to be silent, completely silent.
But while Tim was being silent, he could still hear that someone else was breathing way too loudly. There was no one else in the alleyway with him so it must be someone in one of the nearby apartments, snoring really loudly. They should probably get that checked out, it was almost like they couldn’t catch their breath fully.
A gasp, then quiet, then a gasp.
Tim should try sneaking away, get back home without Batman and Robin ever noticing that he was here at all. He didn’t need to hear Batman’s praise any more than he needed to know that he was going to go to jail forever for taking thousands of pictures of Batman and Robin while they did their nightly patrols.
He went to rise but Tim must be more tired than he had thought because he couldn’t quite stand up.
“Who’s there?” Batman called out. “Show yourself.”
A distant siren, at last breaking the silence.
“It was probably a cat.” Robin said. “Race you to the Harbour?”
“No.” Batman grunted.
“Come on, B, there’s no one up he- Oh shit.”
Tim heard two grappling hooks go off and if his camera wasn’t still in pieces around him, he would have loved to get an action shot of them soaring well above him to another roof. Instead, he could only watch as they dropped fully down into the alleyway.
When he tried to scramble closer to a dumpster beside him, impossibly hoping that the vigilantes might still not notice that he was there, whoever was snoring loudly gave off a weird pained gasp.
Tim stilled completely, wondering where that gasp had come from.
It was just Tim here.
And Batman.
And Robin, holy shit Robin was only a few feet away from Tim and he was coming closer so Tim kept his breathing silent as he could because if he made a sound right now they were going to know he was here and if they knew he was here they would see his camera, shattered as it was, and the World’s Greatest Detective and his partner would very quickly realise what he had been taking photos of.
But as quiet as Tim was, he could still hear ragged breathing but when he dared to glance around once more, he still couldn’t confirm the source of it. It had to be from one of the apartments, it had to be, even though he couldn’t see that any of the windows were open, nor could he really see into any bedrooms.
“Hey,” Robin said.
Tim pressed harder against the wall, desperate to disappear into it.
Robin was now kneeling right in front of him but if Tim just tried hard enough, then surely Robin would look straight past him. That’s what his parents usually did, surely Robin could do the same.
“What’s your name?”
Don’t breathe. Don’t move. Stay silent and they should go away.
But there was still that weirdly loud gasping even though it was just the three of them in this alleyway and there was absolutely no way that the literal Batman would be breathing that loudly. That same literal Batman who was still a little ways away, finger pressed up against the comm in his ear.
He was talking quietly, but Tim still swore that he heard something about the street name and an ambulance even though there was no one here in this street but them.
Robin shuffled a little closer to Tim and Tim thought that his heart was going to beat right out of his chest because Robin was right there in front of him. Tim should say something. No he shouldn’t, he needed to stay silent. If he stayed silent, Robin would leave and if Robin left then he wouldn’t find the SD card that Tim was slowly reaching towards to hide.
Robin's gaze followed Tim’s hand and just before Tim managed to reach his camera, Robin took Tim’s hand into his own instead. Robin shook it, as if doing handshakes in the middle of an alleyway in the middle of Gotham in the middle of the night was a completely normal thing to do.
Then again, Tim supposes that dressing up like a bat and a bird weren’t exactly the most normal things to do either.
“I’m Robin.” Robin said, as if Tim didn’t already know that.
If it weren’t for the very important rule that no one was allowed to know Robin’s real identity as Jason Todd, Tim might have made a joke saying that he thought his name was Jason instead. As it was, he focused really hard on not saying anything incriminating, distinctly aware of the SD cards position.
Robin was still holding Tim’s hand and it took an embarrassingly long time to realise that it was less his hand that Robin was holding, and more his wrist. Oh. Oh. Robin was taking Tim’s pulse. Tim really didn’t want to waste Robin’s time so he very consciously slowed down his heart as much as he possibly could.
Robin frowned deeply.
Tim’s heart raced all over again, hating that he had made Robin annoyed and when Robin’s head tilted, Tim found himself mirroring it. The other boy’s frown broke and turned into more of a grin as he tilted his head the other side, because Tim had followed Robin’s movements again.
The world was spinning, Tim vaguely realised, but that didn’t matter because he had somehow earned a chuckle from Robin, a real chuckle!
“So, Kid,” Robin said. “Come here often?”
Robin had readjusted how he was kneeling, as if he expected to be here for a while. His hand was still on Tim’s wrist while the other reached into his utility belt.
Tim really wished that his camera wasn’t broken, he could have had an absolutely awesome photo of Robin’s whole uniform up this close, especially his utility belt that he was grabbing gauze out of.
Gauze.
Why was Robin grabbing gauze?
Robin hadn’t gotten hurt during patrol tonight, at least not that Tim had seen. Sure, he had tripped over a cat early on in the night, but he’d never even hit the ground, it was more like he did a funny looking pinwheel impression that Tim had decided was the best photo of the night.
Hell, it might even be the best photo of the thousands he has taken of them.
Batman was coming over now, his hand dropped from his comm. Tim could completely understand why people thought that Batman could be intimidating, there was a certain presence he had about him as if the shadows themselves were curling around the Dark Knight.
Tim wasn’t intimidated though, he was just hyper aware that his SD card with all its incriminating evidence that he’d been following them was still in his camera.
But then Batman knelt down next to Robin and Tim watched the shift that he’d seen a hundred times before; the shift where the big scary Bat became soft. The shift that Tim had dreamed would one day be for him for as long as he could remember and yet now that it was happening, Tim found himself pressing ever harder against the wall, uncomfortable with the attention.
“Hey Lad,” Batman said.
Lad. Batman had called him Lad. Tim could die happy, right after he died of humiliation because he was wasting the time of not only Robin but the literal fucking Batman too.
“Everything’s going to be okay Son,”
Tim was on cloud nine, first Lad and now Son and Batman was even kneeling right in front of him using that soft voice that Tim had always dreamed of hearing. But Tim didn’t know why Batman was using his talking to scared or hurt kids voice, because Tim wasn’t a kid, he was nine, and he certainly wasn’t scared because his idols were right there next to him, though maybe he was a little scared that they might check the SD card.
Robin handed Batman the gauze and just as Tim was wondering if Batman had taken a bad hit without Tim seeing it, Batman was leaning forward and pressing the gauze up against Tim’s side.
A scream echoed against stone walls and Tim wished that he could trick himself into thinking that it had been someone else’s scream. He couldn’t though, because alongside the wretched sound was the pain.
Oh God, the pain.
It was all encompassing, like an inferno tearing him up from the inside and it only felt worse as Batman pressed down harder. The world pulsed white and Tim couldn’t hold back a second scream as he tried to get away from the contact.
“Easy, easy,” Batman said. “It’s all going to be alright, just try to stay with me.”
Tim couldn’t even appreciate the soft words because the pain he hadn’t registered until now was impossibly building even more and Tim couldn’t stop his whole body from shuddering.
The hand on his wrist, Robin’s hand he distantly remembered, tightened a little.
“It’s okay, Tim.” Robin said.
Tim hadn’t said his name.
Robin shouldn’t know his name, even if Jason Todd would. Tim wanted to laugh, Robin might have just accidentally given hints to his and Batman’s identities to anyone who was listening in too closely, but it came out more like a choked sob instead.
“Get… Get off…”
“I can’t do that, Lad.” Barman said in his soft voice. “But you’re doing really well, just hold on a little longer."
Tim kicked out his legs, trying and failing to squirm away from Batman.
He had imagined for years what it might be to be on the receiving end of Batman’s praise but now that he had it, everything just felt wrong. He was cold and he was hot and his side was burning but his fingertips were tingling and he was wearing a hoodie but he was still so cold and the hand on Tim’s side suddenly readjusted and new pain ripped through him.
Nausea bubbled up before Tim could stop it and he lurched forward with a gag. When nothing came up, his body just tried again.
“Easy Son,” Batman rumbled. “Deep breaths.”
Tim failed to hold back a sob as his stomach heaved again, the movement pulling at the gunshot wound he hadn’t even known was there. Blood poured from the wound, easily soaking the gauze that Batman held against his side and though Tim tried to look away from the red, he found that he couldn’t.
“Tim,” Batman said. “I’m going to move you a little, okay? I just need to check something.”
“No, no don’t, please,”
He knew that he sounded pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. Everything was spinning around him and the pain was making all of his nerves feel like they were exploding and everything just felt worse as he realised that his eyes were burning hot not with fire but with tears.
With one hand still holding pressure against Tim’s side, the other tilted Tim forward. His vision exploded into a galaxy of stars and then all of a sudden Tim wasn’t sitting upright at all.
He was lying down, staring up at the smog filled sky.
Kicking his legs out, Tim tried to sit up again, but someone kept him on his back. They needn’t have bothered, it was like the whole universe was sitting on his chest keeping him down anyway.
“Easy there Timbo,” Robin said. “You just passed out, but you’re fine.”
Fine and passed out aren’t usually sentiments that go together but Tim can’t summon the energy to really care right now because Robin just called him Timbo. Robin wasn’t angry with him for getting blood on his uniform, or at least Tim hoped that he wasn’t angry.
“Why would I be angry, Kid?”
By the way Robin spoke, it was almost like Tim had said something first but that didn’t matter because Robin wasn’t angry with him. That’s nice. That’s super duper nice because Tim never wants Robin to be angry with him.
The world was sort of fading again, and that was nice too.
“Whoah whoah,” Robin said, tapping Tim’s face. “You gotta stay awake best you can, alright?”
Tim whimpered.
He couldn’t help it, the fire in his side was steadily building once more and Batman was a few feet away again talking over his comm and it was Robin alone that was keeping pressure on his gunshot wound even though Tim didn’t remember the man leaving him. Even if Robin wasn’t angry with him, maybe Batman was.
Tim was used to adults being angry with him. He was never polite enough, never kept his back straight enough. He never kept the house clean enough for whenever his parents returned, even though they never quite remembered to tell him when they were to be coming home.
He felt ill.
He felt even worse when he fully realised that he was now lying in the fragments of glass and plastic that had once been his camera.
The camera had been one of the few presents that Jack Drake had actually physically handed to him at Christmas and not just left beneath the tree for Tim to open when he was all alone in the Manor on Christmas Day.
And now it lay in pieces, slowly being tinted red by Tim’s blood.
Blood. There was so much blood. He didn’t remember if he had ever lost this much blood before, it made his tummy feel all weird and fuzzy.
Tim vaguely wondered when Batman had let go of Tim’s side, replaced instead by Robin’s much smaller hand. Then, he decided he didn’t care because Robin had always secretly been his favorite. When Tim blinked, his eye lids felt impossibly heavy, but Robin tapped his face again.
“Awake, Kid, remember?”
“I am awake.” Tim said.
His voice sounded wrong even to himself. Everything felt wrong too, it was like his whole body was just… Not being a body right now.
“Tim.” Robin warned.
“Fuzzy…”
“I know, shock is a hell of a time but you gotta try to stay awake. The ambulance is nearly here, then the Doc’s will get you all fixed up, alright?”
“Don’t need… Don’t need ambulance…” Tim said. “I-I can walk. Home’s not too far…”
Robin hummed, amused for some reason.
Tim liked that he had made Robin amused, it was definitely one of the highlights in his entire life, even if it had taken getting shot in the gut to get to this point.
“Where is home, anyway?” Robin asked.
“Next to your place.” Tim said.
Robin blinked at him.
Tim blinked back.
“Oh.” Tim said tiredly. “I mean, not next to your place because I’m not supposed to know where you live.”
“Not supposed to know, or you don’t know?” Robin asked.
“Not supposed to.” Tim said.
For someone who was normally considered highly intelligent, Tim found that his mind had chosen to take a vacation to the Bahamas and left his body all on its lonesome. He cursed himself but it came out only as a groan as Robin readjusted the pressure on his side again.
The pain was thankfully less somehow, though the heat had been replaced by an unending cold that felt like it was seeping into his very soul. Tim didn’t even know if he really believed in souls, all his scientific research into it was very inconclusive.
But if he did have a soul, well, the cold was absolutely seeping into it.
“What was that, Timbo?” Robin asked.
“Soul.” Tim said simply.
Then, remembering that he was talking to Robin of all people, Tim decided that the ground should just go ahead and fucking swallow him up already so that he could stop embarrassing himself in front of the young vigilante.
Huh.
Tim wondered if the cold would still be seeping into his soul if the ground swallows him up first. It’s meant to be very hot in the center of the Earth. Tim should really watch Journey to the Center of the Earth again. The new one, not the old one, though he vaguely wondered if the new one could still count as new.
Tim’s eyelids really were getting heavy.
He was really cold too. Was he in the snow? Maybe he should have remembered to bring his jacket.
“B,” Robin called. “Where the hell are they, he’s getting all weird again.”
“You’re weird.” Tim slurred.
“Yeah,” Robin said. “But you’re weirder.”
“You dress up and fight baddies.” Tim pointed out.
“Baddies? Shit, kid, how old are you again?”
“Not a kid.” Tim said.
Robin huffed another laugh but this one seemed strained.
When he heard footsteps approach again, Tim realised that it was for his benefit alone. Batman only makes noises when he wants to. Batman didn’t want to scare him, not that Tim could ever be scared of Batman. He was scary to the bad guys because he had to be, he was always nice to the scared civilians though, especially the younger ones.
Tim heard a miserable sound and only half recognised it as his own.
“The ambulance was caught up behind a pile up.” Batman said. “There is another one being rerouted but it’s still ten minutes away.”
“Don’t need ambulance.” Tim said. “I’m fine Mr. Batman. I can… I’m fine. Just, just give me a sec.”
He tried to sit up again but new pain flashed through him and he fell instead. He gave off a wrenching sob as the fire refused to abate and when he kicked out his legs again, it only made everything feel worse.
“Ten minutes is too fucking long.” Robin said.
“I agree.” Batman said. “We’ll have to deal with this ourselves.”
Tim didn’t really know what Batman meant by that.
Batman knelt down beside Tim.
Oh, fuck, Batman was going to take the SD card from the camera and he was going to hook it up to the Batcomputer that Tim wasn’t meant to know about and see all of the photos he had taken of them and then he was going to be in big trouble and Tim was going to lose the photo of Robin tripping over a cat and, and, and-
And Batman was lifting him up off the ground.
And Tim was screaming.
He couldn’t help it, the fire he had thought was within him was now like lava that was burning right through him and the whole world was spinning and he was going to be sick and he really just wanted to go home and go to bed but the lava was still mixing in with his blood and his blood was soaking into Batman’s suit and, and…
And Tim couldn’t take it anymore. One moment he was there, bleeding in Batman’s arms, and the next he just… Wasn’t.
Perhaps the ground was capable of swallowing him whole after all, even if it didn’t seem able to keep him for very long because the rest came in flashes; moments where he wasn’t even sure of anything but the pain.
There was a roar of an engine, his head in someone’s lap.
The Batmobile, in all its glory, was more comfortable inside than Tim had ever expected it to be. But before he could really appreciate it for what it was, he was gone again, lost in a haze of pain and blood and gasps.
All at once there were bright lights above him, impossibly brighter than the sun itself, and Tim thought that maybe he had slept through half the day.
There were voices, swirling all around him, speaking in not quite shouts but certainly not whispers either. They were talking about blood and bullets and about losing someone, and Tim tried to offer to help them look for whoever was lost but his mouth simply was not listening to him.
There was something on his face, something that he tried to knock away but his hand was grabbed onto before he could. Whoever was holding his hand, held it tightly, and Tim couldn’t help but cry because he didn’t remember the last time that his Dad held his hand like this.
Then all at once Tim was somewhere else again, only vaguely remembering the world shifting around him in between, and the thing on his face felt different and it was like the air itself tasted weird. Someone was talking to him softly, but he didn’t know the voice, and he didn’t know why they kept saying that he should let go.
Tim couldn’t let go.
The realisation that if Tim let go now that he wasn’t ever going to wake up again hit him straight in the chest, chasing away all of his confusion.
If he slept now he would die and Timothy Jackson Drake did not want to die.
If he died, then Mom and Dad were going to be so disappointed, considering all of the money they have already spent on him so far. They had such high hopes for him, he was supposed to be the one to inherit the Drake fortune.
He couldn’t die so he fought instead, against the thing on his face, against the things that had been placed in his arms. He fought and he screamed and he sobbed because the pain was never ending and he just wanted to go home.
Then a familiar warm voice replaced the woman’s. It was Batman’s voice, the voice he only used on scared or hurt kids.
And while Tim was nine years old, practically an adult, right now he was very scared and he was very hurt and if he fell asleep right now he was going to die but Batman was right there by his side and somehow that made things feel a little bit better.
Batman was holding Tim’s hand, guiding it away from the tubing in Tim’s arm, and Tim could not hold back another sob.
“That’s it, Son,” Batman said. “You’re alright, you’re safe now.”
Tim wasn’t safe, he was somewhere strange and the lights were burning above him and all the people that were there were covered in masks and gowns and they were trying to put the weird air on him again no matter how he tried to squirm away from them.
“Relax, Tim,” Batman said. “Let them help.”
Tim’s chest stuttered and he simply could not stop crying because everything hurt so much and he was so scared and he didn’t understand why but he knew that Batman should not be in this room.
Batman had more important things to be doing, he shouldn’t be wasting time here by Tim’s side and yet the thought of Batman moving away from him, even by an inch, utterly terrified him.
With one hand still holding onto Tim’s, Batman’s other hand reached up and started to card through his hair.
Tim sobbed harder, trying to remember the last time someone did that for him. Ms. Mac, maybe, when he was five and had a fever that took days to break. The fever had felt wrong, but now this felt worse and all he could do was pathetically lean into the soft touch.
“That’s it…” Batman praised. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
He didn’t remember how many nights he had replayed Batman’s soft voice over and over again and yet now that it was directed at him, he found that no matter how hard he tried he just kept crying.
The weird tasting mask was put onto Tim’s face again but he had no more energy to fight against it. The world spun around him, every blink harder than the last.
“Tim,” Batman said, more gentle than Tim had ever heard him before. “I’ll be right there with you when you wake up, I promise, but you need to let them help you.”
Batman wouldn’t be there. He couldn’t be. There were too many important things that Batman had to do, much more important than wasting any more time on Tim.
And yet… And yet Tim wanted to believe he was telling the truth.
He could fool himself into believing, if only for a moment, that Batman cared enough about him to not leave his side. Tim would need to commit these new words to his memory, in case he ever gets around to writing that biography on the vigilante, but he could already feel the words slipping away from him as the anesthesia kicked in.
And when Tim closed his eyes for the last time, he wondered if it would truly be so bad if he didn’t open them again.