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It was cold up here. Tim had underestimated how much of a difference the Red Robin suit made. He shivered and tucked his hands under his armpits. The view was breathtaking. Beautiful enough that he could almost forget for a moment. He was seated on the edge of the building, and his legs swung casually back and forth.
He wasn’t quite sure what made him pick today. He felt… finished. Complete. And broken, somehow. Bruce was back and had finally, just today, taken Wayne Enterprises back from Tim. So that Tim could ‘finish being a kid’ or something. He didn’t know how to tell Bruce that he hadn’t been a kid in a long time.
Jason was back with the family, almost getting along with Bruce. He was only mildly hostile towards Tim on the good days. Damian was Robin, and while he was no longer making attempts on Tim’s life, he never seemed to want Tim anywhere near him. Dick was back in Bludhaven, his time as Batman over, but his forceful removal of the only thing Tim had ever fought for was enough. Dick had done enough. Cass was on the other side of the world, doing what she loved. She didn’t call much. He knew she was too busy to worry about him. Stephanie was alive, but felt like someone he didn’t know. But that’s what happened when someone spent a year presumed dead, he supposed. And the team… With Kon and Bart gone, there was no team. Cassie was so far away, she didn’t need him, and… and that was it, wasn’t it?
Dick and Cass had made it very clear they didn’t need him. Jason and Damian, and even Steph, had made it clear they didn’t want him. Bruce had everything handled without him now. With his parents gone and the team broken beyond repair…
Tim didn’t realize he was crying until the tear tracks started to sting from the cold. The ache in his chest felt like a gaping hole, and Tim knew he would do anything to make the feeling go away. He had tried other things, of course. Medication, alcohol, beating the hell out of strangers. He’d even tried therapy. But the feeling was eating him from the inside, burning a hole through all that was left of him, and with no responsibilities left… Tim had ended up here before he really knew what his plan was.
He leaned over the ledge of the Wayne Enterprises building and stared at the drop below. He didn’t feel scared, though he knew he should be. He felt… calm. Tired. Drained. Empty. But not afraid, not even upset or sad. He stood slowly, and his bare feet burned with the cold of the concrete. He must have forgotten his shoes in his rush.
The sound of the city floated up from somewhere far below him, and he took in a deep breath of smog-filled air. He closed his eyes. He had read that it would make it easier. Tim had experience flying. He had experience falling, too. He couldn’t imagine this would be too hard for him.
He stepped off the ledge.
The air rushed past him, tangling with his hair and pulling his arms away from him. He still didn’t feel afraid. He opened his eyes, saw the ground growing closer, and felt peace overcome him. The feeling would be gone soon. Tim closed his eyes and-
Something slammed into his side, hard. He felt himself go swinging sideways and desperately tried to draw in the breath that had been knocked out of him. Not a second after he’d finally drawn in a breath, his back slammed into reinforced glass. He heard muffled cursing in front of him as his breath left him in another rush. There was an arm behind his head, another wrapped tightly around his waist, squeezing so hard it almost hurt.
Tim cracked his eyes open, but he couldn’t see more than blurry red and black, very close to his face. He closed his eyes again and fought to get a breath into his lungs. He didn’t know what was happening. He couldn’t understand. He wasn’t supposed to still be feeling like this.
He felt the hole in his chest crack, and the feeling spread until there was a lump in his throat and a stinging behind his eyes. He tried to swallow it down, but felt the first sob wrack his body as they swayed back and forth.
His voice was cracked and broken when he started to speak between heaving sobs, “I’m not - supposed - to be- not- not-” He stuttered on the words, unsure what he was even trying to get across. He didn’t know who he was talking to or what was happening. He felt his fingers dig into the person in front of him, clutching at their worn leather with clawed hands between broken sounds.
He felt, rather than heard, the person sigh, “Shhh, Timmy. I got you. It’s okay.”
Somehow, the words only made Tim cry harder, and he flailed in the person’s arms in a weak attempt to break free.
“Shit-” They swung wildly back and forth as Tim flailed against the bruising grip, sobs ratcheting up in volume. “Tim, stop-” Tim didn’t stop. Something in him knew he should listen, but a louder voice told him this wasn’t how his fall was supposed to end.
The arm behind his head moved away, and Tim flung his head back in an attempt to gain leverage. It slammed into the glass, and Tim whined loudly, but the feeling in his chest subsided slightly, overrun by the fuzziness overtaking his thoughts. So he did it again. He felt something warm sliding down his neck.
“Fuck, Timmy, I’m sorry about this.” Tim felt the prick of something sharp against his neck, and the fuzziness in his brain was quickly overtaken by black.
_-_-_-_
Jason had been looking for Tim. He hadn’t been in any of his normal places, and he needed his help on this case. It wasn’t often that Jason asked Tim for help. In fact, it had only happened once before. But the kid was a genius, and he needed him now, but he was nowhere to be found. Tim hadn’t been responding to messages or calls all evening. As Jason ran across another roof, one building closer to his final stop, he sighed. He was exhausted. It was nearing early morning, and he had several large bruises from an earlier fight that needed tending. However, Tim might still be at WE, working, so it felt worth checking.
Jason grappled onto the next building, and WE finally came into view. And there was Tim, swinging his bare feet over the side of the building. What is with this kid? Jason started to move to the edge of the roof to grapple over, when Tim stood. That’s when Jason registered the expression on Tim’s face.
It was like nothing Jason had ever seen on the kid before. Half-dazed, with a bleak smile, tear tracks visible across his cheeks. His hands hung limply at his sides, and the toes of one of his feet were curled over the edge of the building. His shoulders curled in on themselves slightly, and his hair hung unkempt around his face. Alarm bells started to ring in Jason’s head.
And then Tim stepped off the building.
Jason didn’t think. He had fired his grapple before he knew what he was doing. He leapt from the building. He slammed into Tim and then the WE building in short order. He clutched Tim so hard he could hardly feel his fingers, the arm holding the grapple wrapped behind the kid’s head. He knew he had barely caught him. He pushed back the thoughts of what might have happened, had he not been here, had he not jumped, had he not grabbed tight enough.
He cursed under his breath as Tim heaved through bruised lungs. And then the kid was sobbing, and Jason couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, but he could feel the leftover fear and adrenaline coursing through him slowly leaving, and he needed Tim to be calm if he was gonna pull this off.
“Shhh, Timmy. I got you. It’s okay.” Jason tried to think, but he wasn’t sure where to go from here. Had Tim jumped? On purpose? He couldn’t gather his thoughts enough to understand what had just happened, but he knew he needed to get them both safely to the ground.
But Tim started flailing in his grip, and it felt like he was trying to get away, ready to fall, and suddenly Jason knew. Tim had not intended to make it out of this alive. But Jason was sure as hell not about to let that happen.
Jason barely registered the curses coming out of his own mouth. He removed his arm from behind Tim’s head and tightened his grip on the kid’s waist. He clipped the grapple line to the harness built into his utility belt and prayed that it would hold both of their weight. With his free hand, he reached for the sedative stashed in one of the hidden pockets of his jacket. Tim’s hands gripped and pushed at the leather jacket, and Jason silently begged for him to stay put for a moment longer. And then the kid flung his head back.
There was a resounding crack, and Tim’s struggling weakened. His arms went limp, and the expression on his face was half dazed and alarmingly relieved. Tim swung his head back again. The second crack was louder, and Jason could see blood staining the glass behind his head.
“Fuck, Timmy, I’m sorry about this.” Jason had finally gotten the sedative out of his jacket, and he wasted no time uncapping the needle and jamming it into the kid’s neck. He pushed down the plunger and watched as the kid’s eyes fluttered closed.
Jason shoved the syringe back into a pocket lined for sharps and sighed in relief. Now he had to find a way down.
_-_-_-_
After a bit of maneuvering and a couple of terrifying moments, Jason was able to hold onto Tim as if his life depended on it and grapple semi-gently onto the next roof. He managed to crawl onto the ledge, clutching Tim tightly in one arm.
He reached for his com, on instinct, turning to the Bat’s main channel. He heard Oracle’s precise directions, leading Batman and Robin to a robbery near the edge of Jason’s own territory.
“B,” he interrupted, “I think-” he cleared his throat to keep his voice from cracking, “I think I need some help over here.” Jason didn’t remember the proper code for this situation, and he was too exhausted to try. He just said very tiredly, with a barely-there wobble to his words, “RR tried to kill himself.”
The immediate silence on the line was deafening, but it only lasted a moment.
“Where are you?” B’s voice was sharp and focused. All Batman, no Bruce.
“One building south of WE. I caught him, but I had to sedate him, and I don’t know how to get him somewhere secure without drawing attention. I can’t take him on my bike.” Jason took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing, “He’s not in uniform. He has a head injury and possibly some bruising on his back and ribs. I need-” Jason’s breath caught in his throat, and he knew that he was letting the situation get to him, but he didn’t know how to stop, so he just continued, “I need help.”
It was Robin who responded, the sound of the Batmobile revving in the background, “ETA 10 minutes.”
Oracle’s voice was shaking when she said, “I’ll alert Agent A to have a cot ready.” Jason bit his lip to stop himself from objecting. The cave would be the safest place for Tim right now; he just had to remind himself of that. Barbara continued, “You think-” She paused briefly, drawing in a shaking breath, “Do you think restraints are necessary?”
Jason’s hands clenched at the thought, but he nodded before remembering she couldn’t see him. “Um- yeah. At least have them ready. Just in case.”
The line went quiet.
So Jason waited. The ten minutes felt like eternity. He busied his hands with cleaning the wound on the back of Tim’s head with the limited supplies he had.
He couldn’t stop picturing what could have happened. He couldn’t figure out why. He had been trying with Tim, genuinely trying. He had apologized, and he had been making an effort to be non-threatening and even giving the kid some tips on cases, letting him into his territory, stuff like that. He knew that didn’t make everything okay. Not even close. But he hadn’t realized that Tim had been… I mean, Bruce was back. Tim had been right, and he’d found Bruce, and he’d brought him back, and, and…
Jason liked Tim. He was scarily intelligent, with a dry sense of humor, and more stubborn than anyone Jason had ever met. He was the kind of little brother Jason would have wanted if he hadn’t messed it up so quickly. This was never what he wanted for the kid. What had this family done to him?
Jason didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that Tim had gotten this bad and no one had noticed. Surrounded by detectives with no sense of boundaries, no one had noticed soon enough. He didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had contributed to making Tim feel this worthless.
The roar of the Batmobile cut through his thoughts, and he saw it park a block away. The dark figures of Bruce and Damian hopped out of the car a moment later. Jason finished crudely wrapping Tim’s head wound just as they climbed over the edge of the roof.
“How is he?” It was surprisingly soft coming from B, almost more Bruce than Batman.
“He’s alive,” Jason said quietly. His voice modulator made it sound less like he was falling apart.
Bruce nodded. He couldn’t quite hide the worried twitch of his mouth below the cowl. Bruce moved to grab Tim, and Jason stopped him. “I’ll do it. I’ll take him down, I don’t-” I don’t want to let you keep hurting him. I don’t want to let him go. I don’t want him to be scared when he wakes up. Jason didn’t finish the sentence. Bruce nodded anyway.
Jason grabbed Tim as gently as he could, wrapped one arm tight around Tim’s middle, and readied his grapple. He didn’t say a word to Bruce or Damian before grappling towards the Batmobile, keeping Tim as steady as he could.
He unlocked the Batmobile with his fingerprint - Bruce had finally decided to give him access - and released his death grip around the kid. He laid Tim across the backseat as best he could, and settled himself carefully next to Tim’s head.
Bruce and Damian arrived just as he settled himself in. They quickly loaded into the front seats, and Bruce started the car. No one spoke. Jason could feel the pull of his thoughts, but now they were tinged with green.
Anger bubbled just under his skin. Anger at Bruce, Damian, and Dick. Anger at Stephanie, Alfred, and Cassandra. And anger at himself. What had they done, what had they said to make this happen? He needed to find out, to speak with them. He needed them all to be there, to support Tim, or so Jason could interrogate them; he wasn’t sure which.
He broke the silence violently, voice sharp, “Call Dick. I know Steph is off tonight, but we need to get ahold of her too. I’ll call Cass. They all need to be here.”
Jason was already pulling out his phone when Bruce spoke, “Dick and Cassandra are on missions and-”
“I don’t fucking care if they’re on missions. Dick will never forgive you if you do that to him again, and you know it. Call him. They’d rather be here, trust me.” Jason’s voice was dark and unforgiving through the voice modulator, and Bruce didn’t speak again; he only nodded once toward Damian.
Jason found the contact for Cass’ emergency phone and dialed it. He pulled off his helmet while the phone rang. She picked up on the second ring.
“Little brother?” Her voice was quiet, but not so quiet that she might be in active danger.
“We need you home. It’s Tim.” Jason tried to soften his voice to something more empathetic, “He’s safe, but we need you.”
“When?” Cass’ voice had a dash of panic that Jason knew she would normally hide.
“As soon as possible.” He felt himself reaching for Tim’s pulse against his neck, just to remind himself that it was going to be okay.
“12 hours.” Cass hung up.
Jason tuned back into the noise in the car just in time to hear Damian on the phone with Dick.
“Grayson, he’s fine, but-” Jason could hear muffled shouting from the other line, “No, he-” Damian growled in frustration at being interrupted again, “Richard,” Damian said it so forcefully that Jason nearly flinched, “We need you home. Now.” Damian hung up before Dick could say anything else.
Damian put his head in his hands, and he looked so distraught for a moment that Jason could almost believe he actually cared about Tim. But then his face cleared, and with his mask of disdain back in place, Jason could hardly believe he’d seen it at all.
“I’ll call Steph,” Jason said, already dialing her number. Damian nodded shortly.
She didn’t pick up the first call, but when Jason called again, she answered on the first ring. Her voice was heavy with sleep when she said, “Jay? Is everything okay?”
Jason bit his lip. She wouldn’t handle this well. He wasn’t sure how to say it.
“Jason?” Her voice was more awake now and filled with worry.
Jason shook himself, “Hey, Steph, listen. We need you at the cave.” She sighed on the other line, but didn’t interrupt, so he continued, “Tim- We think Tim tried to kill himself.” His tone was quiet and somber.
Her voice quickly rose in pitch and volume, “Is he-”
Jason cut her off before she could panic further. “He’s okay. But- I think he needs all the support he can get right now. He’s unconscious, but you should be there when he wakes up.”
The line was silent for a moment, then- “Okay, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there.” She hung up before he could say anything more.
They rode the rest of the way to the cave in silence.
_-_-_-_
Alfred was in the cave when they pulled in, and he looked more lost than Jason had ever seen him. Almost like he didn’t know what to do, despite the years he’d been doing this. But, Jason supposed, they’d never dealt with this before. Sure, they’d all had their depressive episodes and suicidal ideations. But everyone else had always relied on the nightlife to handle it. Whether that meant using it to avoid their emotions or hoping it would get them killed, it felt different than actively trying to kill themselves. Jason felt similarly unsteady.
Jason shook off the unease and exited the Batmobile. By his estimation, they had about 30 minutes until Tim woke. He picked the kid up gently and followed Alfred to the infirmary, Bruce and Damian following closely behind. He laid him on the cot Alfred had set up, and Alfred moved to start buckling Tim’s arms and legs onto the bed.
Something in Jason immediately started to panic, and he stopped Alfred with a hand on his arm, “Wait. I- We should leave the restraints there, just in case, but- well- if it was me-” He cleared his throat, “I don’t want him to wake up afraid.”
Alfred’s eyes softened, and he nodded, “Of course, Master Jason.” Alfred turned back to Tim with a sad smile, “How is he?”
Jason grimaced, painfully aware of the bruises littering his own body. “He has a head injury. Probably bruised ribs and back.” Jason was quiet for a moment, his mind flashing back to Tim struggling in his arms. He continued softly, “I don’t think he’ll be happy to be waking up at all.”
Jason heard Bruce suck in a breath behind him, and he turned around sharply, vision flashing green. Jason’s voice was venomous when he said, “What happened? Something had to have happened to set this off, and someone has to know what it is.”
The identical looks of shame on Bruce and Damian’s faces made Jason seethe. At some point, Bruce had removed the cowl. He looked at the floor as he started to speak, “I removed Tim as Wayne Enterprises’ CEO today.” A look of surprise flashed across Damian’s face, but Bruce continued, “He’s only 17. I wanted him to have a chance to finish growing up. Finish high school, make friends. I knew he didn’t agree with me. But I-” Bruce looked up at Jason with pleading eyes, “I was just trying to do the right thing.”
The green in Jason’s vision didn’t subside. He turned to Damian, “What is it that you think set this off?”
Damian’s expression turned hard and distant, and he said quietly, “Earlier this week, I told Drake that we don’t need him here anymore. I said that I don’t want him here. I didn’t-” Damian was quiet for a moment, his eyes still trained somewhere on the wall of the cave. Jason tried to remind himself that Damian was only ten. Somewhere in his mind, the pit snarled at that excuse. Damian continued, “I just wanted him to stop pestering me.”
Jason ground his teeth together. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to kick them both out and tell them to never come near Tim again. But he knew that this wasn’t their fault, not entirely, not exclusively. He knew that while they had all contributed to letting Tim get this bad, there was no way they could have known. None of them had intended this.
“I need you both to go upstairs,” Jason said through clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice calm. Bruce opened his mouth to object, but Jason elaborated, “When Tim wakes up, I don’t want him to be overwhelmed. I doubt he wants to see either of you right now. So, I need you to go upstairs. When he is ready to see you, you can come back down.”
Bruce stared at him for a moment, looking contemplative, then nodded and grabbed Damian by the arm. Damian barely protested, just followed Bruce to the locker room to get changed.
“Master Jason,” Alfred said from where he was working to remove Tim’s rumpled button-up shirt and slacks, “Was that strictly nece-”
“Yes, Alfred. It was.” Jason didn’t elaborate further, only helped Alfred in removing Tim’s outer layer of clothing.
Once they got the shirt unbuttoned, Jason carefully lifted Tim’s head and torso so that Alfred could remove the shirt. As soon as the shirt was removed and they had a good view of Tim’s back, Alfred inhaled sharply. Jason couldn’t help but agree. He knew the bruising across Tim’s back would be bad after hitting the wall so hard, but it was big, spread all across his back. The bruise was already turning purple, a darker shade across the wings of his shoulder blades and the knobs of his spine.
Jason laid him back down gently, and Alfred turned his attention to Tim’s head injury. “How did these injuries occur, Master Jason?” Alfred asked quietly as he unwrapped the gauze from around Tim’s head.
Jason felt himself reaching for Tim’s wrist to feel his pulse as he said, “I caught him mid jump. I managed to grab him, but we hit the building. He was struggling, trying- trying to get away. And he kept- he kept hitting his head against the glass.” Jason let himself go quiet and felt Tim’s pulse reverberate through his fingers.
“We hit the building?” Alfred questioned, “Are you injured as well, Master Jason?”
Jason shook his head and said, “Deal with Timmy first. I’m okay.”
The sound of a motorcycle approaching sounded through the cave, and Jason moved towards the main area, reluctantly releasing Tim’s wrist and clenching his hands against his sides to keep from reaching back out.
He stepped into the main area of the cave just as Steph pulled in, her bright purple bike revving. She parked and jumped off the bike quickly, striding towards Jason with worry evident in every step.
“How’s he doing? Is he hurt?” Her voice was wobbly and high-pitched, and it reminded Jason for a moment just how young she was. She was only 18, but it was so easy to forget.
Jason laid a hand on her arm, “He has some injuries, but he’s going to be okay.”
Stephanie buried her face in her hands, voice shaking, “I just don’t understand how nobody noticed before now. How could none of them have noticed?” A sob broke its way out of her throat.
Jason furrowed his brow and asked, “Has he seemed off at all? Have you noticed anything weird?” There was a note of pleading in his voice, and he tried to cover it as best as he could.
Her shoulders slumped, and she sobbed again, “Tim and I- We haven’t-” Her words were broken by little hiccups, and Jason wished there was something he could do to make her feel better in the moment. “We haven’t spoken in months. After- After I came back, he was so upset, understandably, and-” She wiped at her face with clenched fists, and looked up at Jason through devastated eyes, “I’ve been too afraid to reach out. This is my fault. If I’d- If I’d been there-” Her sobs came quicker and her words became incoherent.
Jason wrapped a broad arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, making gentle shushing noises, “It’s not just your fault. You can’t put this all on you. We all failed him today. We can’t change the past, but we can be here for him now, yeah? Come on.” Jason continued to shush her as he pulled her along to the infirmary, her quiet sobs shaking both of their bodies.
By the time they entered the infirmary, Alfred had finished rewrapping Tim’s head. Jason settled Steph in a chair before moving to help Alfred apply salve to Tim’s bruises. They worked in silence, the only sound the quiet sniffling of Stephanie behind them. Jason laid Tim back carefully on the cot when they finished, sighing.
“Master Jason, now that I have tended to Master Timothy, I would like to examine your injuries before he wakes up.” Alfred’s voice was firm and yielded no argument.
Jason sighed, but moved over to sit on a cot nearby. “Alright, Alfie, have at it.” Jason stripped off his upper body armour efficiently, leaving it in a neat pile on the cot beside him.
Alfred clicked his tongue as he looked over the bruises littering Jason’s chest, arms, and back. “These cannot all be from hitting the wall, I am sure.” Alfred’s voice was disapproving, and Jason cringed.
“I had a rough patrol tonight.” The excuse sounded weak even to his own ears, and Alfred just sighed as he started applying the salve to Jason’s various injuries. Jason tried not to wince as each of his injuries was poked and prodded.
When Alfred was about halfway through applying the salve, Jason heard Steph’s sharp intake of breath from beside Tim’s bed. He turned quickly, already on alert. That’s when he saw.
Tim had opened his eyes.
_-_-_-_
Tim felt heavy, his thoughts fuzzy and disconnected. It took him a while to realize the dark was due to his closed eyes. He didn’t hear many sounds around him, only gentle breathing and quiet rustling made him aware that there was anyone else around at all.
He couldn’t remember where he was. There was a sharpness in his chest that told him he should be more aware; it screamed that something was wrong-bad-broken. He fought to open his eyes. He saw a familiar ceiling first, and the sharpness dulled slightly. And then he saw Jason.
Memories came rushing back towards him, and he flinched. The rushing wind, the reinforced glass against his back, the fuzzy feeling in his head. The needle against his neck. Tears were springing to his eyes before he could really process what had happened.
His voice was scratchy and cracking when he started to speak, all in a rush, “It wasn’t supposed to- to happen like this. You weren’t supposed to be there. I’m - I’m not-” His breath was coming in broken gasps, and he found himself gripping at his hair with his hands, desperately pulling at the strands, “I’m not supposed to be here!” His last words were shouted sobs. His breath was coming fast, interspersed with wounded sounds and broken gasps, and he managed to pull the fresh bandages halfway off his head.
He didn’t know when Jason started talking, but suddenly, hands were pulling his wrists, gently but firmly, away from his head, and Jason was murmuring in a low voice, “I know, Tim, I know. I’m sorry. But I need to make sure you’re safe right now, okay, kid? You’re gonna be okay, Timmy, I promise.”
Jason placed one of Tim’s hands against his own chest, and Tim could feel the vibrations of his voice as he spoke, “I need you to breathe with me, Timbo. Can you do that? Just follow my breaths.”
And Tim tried. But it felt like someone was sitting on his chest, and there was no room inside for any air at all. He gasped and choked on sobs, but Jason just kept murmuring quiet words of encouragement, reminding him to breathe. Reminding him that he was still alive.
That thought alone sent Tim into another round of sobs and incoherent words, and the feeling in his chest expanded until he felt like it was trying to swallow him whole. He tried to break out of Jason’s grip, but his hands were unyielding. He tried to hit his head against something in an attempt to bring back the fuzzy feeling, but his head only hit the soft pillow behind him.
He tried to breathe again. He couldn’t be panicking like this. Not in front of Jason. He tried to steady himself and follow Jason’s breathing. Every hiccup in his breath felt like a mile-long setback.
The minutes felt long, but eventually he was able to breathe normally again. He registered Alfred standing beside Jason. The look on Alfred’s face was unreadable, and Tim had to fight to keep his anxiety from spiking again. Tim spoke softly, “Hey, Alfred.”
Alfred’s face softened as soon as Tim spoke, and he gave a small smile back, “Hello, Master Timothy. I am so glad you are okay.”
More tears pooled in Tim’s eyes, and he blinked them away before they could start falling again.
Tim saw someone else, standing on his left side. He looked over and saw Steph. He hadn’t seen her in months. She looked like a mess. She was in a pair of ratty pajama pants and an old band t-shirt. Her hair was all over her head, clearly just taken out of a helmet or hat of some kind. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying.
She had been there the whole time, Tim realized. She had seen his whole breakdown. At that realization, he choked on his next breath. He gasped for air, trying to readjust to Jason’s breathing. His heart was pounding in his chest. Just Steph, it’s just Steph. Somehow, that thought only made it worse, and tears sprang to his eyes. He blinked them away and hiccuped through another gasp for air.
“Breathe, Timmy, breathe,” Jason’s voice was steady and quiet, and Tim listened to his muttered assurances, finally able to get some semblance of control over his lungs.
When he was calm enough to look back up at her, Steph spoke. Her voice was raw and wobbly when she said, “Hey, Tim.” She tried to smile, but it turned out as more of a grimace. “How are you feeling?”
Tim took a moment to assess. How was he feeling? He felt bad that all of them were worrying about him. He felt like a burden. He felt like he shouldn’t be here. Most of all, he felt hopeful that this would mean something might finally change, that things would get better, and he felt enormously guilty for feeling that way. His eyes and cheeks burned from the tears, and his back was throbbing. But he wasn’t going to burden her with any of that.
He shrugged, “I’m sorry they called you in on your night off.”
Stephanie looked bewildered by the comment, and a small giggle burst out of her, bordering on hysterical. “I’m not upset that I got called in, Tim.” She took a shuddering breath and reached for his hand, “Tim, I’m so sorry. I’m- I should have been there, and it’s not an excuse, but I didn’t want to face what I had done to you.” Her eyes were so earnest, and Tim had to fight to avoid looking away. “I should have been your friend, this past little while, and instead I was avoiding you. I am so-” Her voice broke on the word, and she let the words break off, putting a hand over her mouth and squeezing shut her eyes.
Tim squeezed her hand gently. “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly, “I’m just-” He paused before whispering, “Broken.”
She grabbed his shoulder, tightly, and he looked up at her. Her eyes were filled with fire when she said the next words, “You are not broken. You are never broken. You are intelligent, and funny, and stubborn, and never broken, Tim.” Tears were streaming down her face.
He didn’t know what to say, how to explain, so he stayed quiet. He held her hand, running his thumb back and forth, and watched her wipe at her eyes.
She laughed through the last of her tears and said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be the one crying here.” Tim just smiled and patted her hand, glad to have her company nearby.
Hurried footsteps coming down the stairs echoed through the cave, and Jason straightened from where he stood.
“I’ll be back,” Jason smiled reassuringly at Tim, and jogged out of the infirmary.
“Master Timothy,” Alfred said, moving towards the medical supplies, “Would you allow me to fix the bandages on your head, please?”
Tim cringed when he remembered the bandages and nodded sheepishly, “Yeah, Alfred. Sorry.”
Alfred grabbed his supplies and started to redo the bandages. It had only been a few minutes when Jason came back.
His face was dark, and Tim could see the green still fading from his eyes. But when he looked at Tim, his face softened.
Jason said as gently as he could, “Listen up, Timbo. You’ve got a decision to make.”
_-_-_-_
Jason heard someone coming down the stairs of the cave. He quickly started to move away from Tim, ready to intercept whoever it was before they got here.
“I’ll be back,” Jason said, trying to make it look like he wasn’t already angry about the conversation ahead.
He stepped out of the infirmary, and just as he expected, Dick was jogging towards him from the stairs. Jason held up a hand, stopping him in his path.
“Stop,” he said quietly, trying to avoid being overheard.
Dick stopped, but gave him an angry look, “What? Why?”
Jason sighed a little, but said, “I want to check with Tim before I let anyone else come in. He’s really overwhelmed right now, he’s not handling it super well, and I want to ask him first.”
Dick deflated, and the sorrow on his face was enough to make Jason almost feel bad. Dick spoke quietly, “This is my fault.” Jason wanted to roll his eyes, but Dick continued, “I knew he was struggling. He has been since Bruce died. I tried- I encouraged him to go to a therapist.” Dick looked to be on the verge of tears, and Jason felt his guilt acutely, “When Bruce was gone, we had even considered having him hospitalized, but-”
Jason had grabbed Dick by the collar before he even finished processing the words. The walls of Arkham flashed behind his eyes, and he hissed through his clenched teeth, “You did what?”
Dick looked absolutely distraught, and he kept speaking as if Jason wasn’t one step away from grabbing him by the throat, “Not in Arkham, never in Arkham. There’s a place in Metropolis. We thought it might be good for him.” Dick looked at Jason pleadingly, “You have to understand, Jason, I knew something was wrong. But I didn’t have the resources. I didn’t have the time. It was just me, and I had to take care of Dami, and-” He looked back at the ground, letting his shoulders drop, “I didn’t want to hospitalize him. And I didn’t have the resources to do any more than encourage him to go to therapy. And then Bruce came back and I thought… I thought he would be better. I thought he would be okay-” Dick’s voice cracked, and he took a deep breath before continuing, “Let me fix this, Jason.”
Jason released Dick’s collar and held his breath, willing the green to subside. He let go of the breath and said as gently as he could, “Let me talk to him. I know after everything, you guys aren’t… as close as you used to be. I can see if he wants to see you. Okay?”
Dick bit his lip, but nodded and turned to make his way back upstairs. Jason took a moment to breathe before walking back towards the infirmary.
Jason stepped inside and gave Tim the softest look he could manage, trying to make his voice sound light, “Listen up, Timbo. You’ve got a decision to make.”
Tim looked overwhelmed just at the prospect, so Jason hurried to clarify, “You don’t have to decide now. Take all the time you need. But Bruce, Damian, and Dick are all upstairs. Cass will be here in like 11 hours. And they all want to see you.” Tim’s eyes started filling with tears, and he looked so hopeful that Jason couldn’t breathe for a second. “We don’t want to overwhelm you. And I don’t want you to be around them if anything they say could be triggering for you right now. So take your time, and actually think about it. No one will come down here without your say-so. Steph, Alfred, or I will also leave if you want. The only stipulation is that you can’t be alone right now. But otherwise it’s all up to you. Okay?”
Tim was silent for a moment, blinking back the tears that were filling his eyes. “O-Okay,” His voice was shaky, but he looked like Jason had just handed him the moon. Tim thought for a moment, eyes trained on the floor. When Tim looked back up, there was something resigned in his eyes. “I want to see them.”
Jason smiled reassuringly at him, “Of course, Timmy. Steph can go up and get them right now. But it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to see them.”
Tim squared his shoulders, “No, I want to see them.”
Steph nodded and bounced to her feet, jogging towards the stairs to grab the remaining Bats.
Jason took the time to study Tim for a moment. Things had been so crazy that he hadn’t had a chance to just observe. The kid looked bad, and not just from the night he’d had. Sure, his eyes were red-rimmed and his hair was a rat’s nest. But he also had deep bags under his eyes, the kind that didn’t come from one night of missed sleep. He was thin, thinner than he should be in their line of work. And-
And he was very actively dissociating. Tim stared at the wall, his eyes distant and face blank. Jason didn’t want to startle him, but knew he had to bring him back down somehow.
“Tim?” Jason said softly. There was no response; Tim just continued to stare.”Tim?” Jason said it a little louder this time, trying his best to give Tim his space.
Tim’s eyes flicked towards him, still distant. He didn’t say anything, just looked at Jason with semi-vacant eyes.
“Hey, Timmy. Can you come back to the present for me? We need you here.” Jason said it as gently as he could, giving Tim a small smile.
Tim blinked, and his vision seemed to clear slightly. He blinked again, and again, slowly. Eventually, after what felt like hours but must have only been minutes, his eyes no longer seemed as vacant.
“Sorry,” Tim mumbled. His eyes darted around the room in slight confusion.
Jason shook his head slightly, “Don’t be sorry, Timbit. You’ve had a long night. It’s normal to have dissociative episodes after something traumatic. And God knows you’ve experienced enough trauma for it in your life.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on Tim’s face, and Jason wanted to cheer. But at that moment, Steph came back in, with Bruce right behind her. Tim tensed up immediately. No one else seemed to notice. And so, like any good older brother, Jason readied himself for a fight.
_-_-_-_
Tim knew it was coming, and he knew he had to face it. The anger, the disappointment. But god, he did not want to. After Jason had been so kind to him, Alfred so gentle with him, Steph so worried about him. God, he did not want to face it.
But Bruce walked into the room, and Tim knew this was the moment. And judging by the way Jason straightened up and shifted his stance, he knew too.
Bruce’s face was a mask of stone when he entered the room. His posture was stiff and uncomfortable. And then he looked at Tim.
Bruce’s face melted into pure relief, and he took a desperate step towards Tim. Tim was confused. He had never seen this expression directed at him before. It was full of some emotion Tim couldn’t quite place on Bruce, something soft. He had never seen Bruce so soft towards him before. Bruce took another step forward, and Tim had to physically stop himself from flinching away.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Bruce took the last step forward and pulled Tim’s head to his chest, breathing in the scent of his hair. Tim melted. He didn’t know when the last time he was hugged like this was. He didn’t know if he had ever been hugged by Bruce. He was confused, and he didn’t know what was happening, and the feeling caused tears to well up in his eyes.
“B-Bruce?” He said in a wobbly voice, the sound muffled by Bruce’s sweatshirt.
“Where is everyone else?” He heard Jason ask quietly, likely trying not to interrupt their moment.
Steph’s voice was equally quiet when she responded, “We decided they should come one at a time. We don’t wanna overwhelm Tim. They’re all waiting by the computers. They-”
Steph continued talking, but Bruce ran a hand through Tim’s hair, and he lost awareness of her words. Tim started to sniffle quietly into Bruce’s chest, his confusion making him emotional and on edge. Bruce made a shushing sound and continued to run his fingers through Tim’s hair.
His words were so soft, Tim doubted anyone else could hear them, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t know, I wasn’t paying enough attention, I’m so sorry. I’m here now. You’re okay.”
Tim didn’t have the words to tell him he didn’t need to be sorry, that this wasn’t his fault, so he just shook his head and continued to cry against Bruce’s chest. Eventually, his tears dried up, and he pulled his face away to look up at Bruce.
Tim knew he had to ask. He needed an answer because right now it felt like the hole in his chest would never fill. The words came out more steady than Tim had expected, “Why did you take Wayne Enterprises from me? It was all I had left. Why would you take it?”
Bruce looked like someone had just stabbed him in the stomach. “Tim, I didn’t know. You’re only seventeen, and I thought- Well, I wanted to let you be a kid for a little bit longer.” Bruce paused, “Let me find the words.” His expression was searching and slightly frustrated, but not at Tim. Tim waited. Bruce had never been good with words. But then, he took a deep breath, and then said the words that made Tim’s world fall out from under him, “I wanted you to be my kid for a little while longer. I wanted- I wanted to get a chance to take care of you, instead of the other way around.”
Bruce looked shattered in a way Tim had never seen before, but Tim hardly had the capacity to worry about it. The words ‘my kid’ kept bouncing around in his brain, trying to find a place to fit, but…
They didn’t. Nothing that Tim knew of his relationship with Bruce fit with those two words. He was the replacement, the Robin that Bruce didn’t ask for. He was the stalker neighbor kid that Bruce didn’t want around. He was the one Bruce never adopted. He wasn’t Bruce’s kid. Bruce would never call him that. So why had he said it?
Tim looked up at Bruce with scared and confused eyes, voice shaky, “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
Bruce looked so sad, and Tim wasn’t sure what he had said wrong. Bruce grabbed Tim’s shoulder gently and said, “I should’ve made it clear earlier. I’m so sorry.” Bruce looked into Tim’s eyes, and Tim had never seen him look so nervous. “It’s completely up to you, but I want you to be my- my son.” Something in Tim went all warm, and his throat felt tight. Bruce continued, “I want you to move back into the manor and finish school. I want you to be there for game nights and family dinners. And I do want you to take over WE one day, permanently, after you’ve had time to grow up.” Bruce’s hand was firm on Tim’s shoulder, his eyes bright and sincere.
Tim studied him, looking for any hint of a lie or a joke. He couldn’t find one. “Are you being serious?” He couldn’t quite keep the longing and desperation from his voice. He wanted this. Badly. This is what he’d wanted his whole life—to not be alone in that big, empty house anymore. To have a real family.
Bruce nodded, his face conveying more emotion than Tim had ever seen on it before: Sadness, shame, and fear, but also hope and love, conviction and apology. His voice was quiet, but firm when he said, “Yes, Tim. I’m being serious.” Bruce gave Tim a small quirk of his lip, which might as well have been a beaming smile in Tim’s eyes.
Tim’s next words were careful, and he watched Bruce’s reaction intently, “I would love that. But- you know that this feeling, it won’t just go away? It doesn’t just disappear because you said the right things.” Tim twisted his fingers together in his lap and continued, “This feeling, these thoughts, they’ve been with me for most of my life. This isn’t new. This isn’t even the first time I’ve almost-” Tim cut himself off, but Bruce’s gaze turned sad, knowing, and, somehow, understanding.
Bruce started speaking before Tim could continue, “I don’t expect you to change, Tim. And I don’t expect this to get better overnight. It doesn’t make me love you any less.” Tim’s breathing hitched, and he held his breath to keep the tears at bay. He was honestly surprised he had any tears left. Bruce brushed a hand through Tim’s hair and said, “We’re gonna work on this. We’ll go back to therapy and actually try this time. We’ll find you a psychiatrist, and maybe get you on some medication that could help. And until then, we’ll make the house as safe as possible for you. Keep someone home and within shouting distance until you're feeling a little better.” Bruce gave Tim an apologetic look as he continued, “We’ll probably restrict your access to the cave temporarily. Just until you’re doing better.” Tim deflated a little bit, but despite the sting of disappointment, it all made him feel very… loved. So he nodded and gave Bruce a small, hopeful smile.
Tim sank back against the pillows behind him and rubbed at his eyes. Despite the sedative-induced nap, he felt drained and exhausted. His arms felt heavy and hard to control. Though, he realized, that might be because of the sedative.
Bruce gave him a soft look and ran his hand through Tim’s hair again. “Why don’t you get some sleep? The others can wait a little bit.” Tim raised his eyebrow at that, and Bruce sighed, “They may come in to stare at you creepily while you’re asleep, but they can wait to talk to you, at the very least.” Tim snorted a laugh, and Bruce looked at him like he’d hung the stars.
“Yeah, okay,” Tim said, yawning, “I’ll get some sleep.” His eyes were already drifting closed, his body half propped up against the pillows.
Bruce kept running his hand through Tim’s hair, voice soft, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Tim was asleep before he got to hear Bruce whisper, “I love you.”
_-_-_-_
Tim didn’t dream. He must’ve been too exhausted for that. When he woke again, the room was dark. The heart rate monitor must have been turned on at some point, because a steady beeping filled the room. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he took in the multiple silhouettes in the room around him. Four chairs had been pulled up around his bed, and each had a person slumped over in it. On the cot across from his, there was a fifth, smaller person curled up atop the sheets.
Tim took a moment to stare in shock at Damian’s curled-up form, sleeping across from him, before studying the rest of the people. Bruce was in the chair on his left, chin to his chest, soft snores emanating from him. Dick and Stephanie were in front of him. Stephanie was turned to the side in her chair, her knees drawn up to her chest. Dick had his legs thrown over the arm of his chair, head tilted back, and drool running down his chin. Jason was sitting on his right side, and Tim quickly realized that, unlike everyone else, Jason was awake.
His eyes were fixed on the wall of the infirmary. Despite the heart rate monitor, his hand was around Tim’s wrist, feeling his pulse. His eyes were glowing faintly green in the dark. He hadn’t yet noticed that Tim was awake.
“Jason?” Tim whispered, trying not to wake anyone. Jason blinked a couple of times before lowering his gaze to Tim’s. The green faded quickly from his eyes.
“Hey, Baby Bird. What’re you doing up? Go back to sleep.” Jason gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His hand twitched slightly against Tim’s wrist, and Tim frowned.
“Everything okay? You should be sleeping too, Jay.” Tim stumbled a little on the nickname, but after everything, he felt obligated to at least try.
Jason’s mouth twitched, and Tim couldn’t quite read the emotion behind it. Jason was quiet for a moment, gaze fixed on the wall. When he spoke, he spoke so softly that Tim almost couldn’t hear him, “I fucked up. I know I did. I know I’m part of the reason that you-” He paused, his face pinched, “that you’re here. I don’t know how to fix it. I need you to tell me what to do. How to make this better.” Jason looked him in the eyes then, face more earnest than Tim had ever seen, “How can I fix this, Tim?”
Tim took a moment to breathe. He wasn’t sure what to say. They had both messed up, and he didn’t want their relationship to be beyond repair. But how do you even begin to come back from this? He didn’t know. Tim closed his eyes and whispered, “All I’ve ever wanted was to be like you. To be your friend.” Jason waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He didn’t know what else to say.
Jason tightened his grip on Tim’s wrist a little and spoke hesitantly, “How about brother?”
Tim’s chest ached. Tim wanted it so bad he couldn’t breathe, but… But part of him wondered if this was just because of what he’d done. What Jason had seen him do. He gathered all his resolve before he spoke again, voice cracking when he did, “You have to prove it, okay? You have to- you have to mean it. I can’t handle it if you don’t mean it.”
Tim’s eyes were still closed, so he missed the determined expression on Jason’s face. Despite his resolve, Jason’s voice was gentle when he responded, “I will.”
They didn’t speak any further. Tim fell back asleep slowly, his thoughts gentle for the first time in years. The hole in his chest was a quiet, dull ache; every conversation made the pain seem less all-encompassing. One day, he hoped, he would be able to breathe through the pain.
_-_-_-_
Jason watched Tim fall back asleep with fear heavy in his heart. He knew he should sleep. He knew he needed it after the night he’d had. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tim’s face before he jumped. He saw Tim fall. He saw what would happen had he missed.
So Jason watched Tim fall asleep and felt the weight of his words like bricks stacked upon his shoulders. He didn’t know how to be a good brother. But he knew if he failed, he wouldn’t get a second chance to catch Tim. He knew that if they didn’t fix this, they would lose Tim for good. And he knew he couldn’t let that happen.
_-_-_-_
The next time Tim woke, his head felt a little clearer. The room smelled like coffee and antiseptic, and Tim could hear the clicking of computer keys somewhere to his left. He opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the dim light filtering in from the rest of the cave.
The first thing he noticed was that Damian was gone. He had expected it, but it still made his heart drop a little. Stephanie was gone too, but Tim knew she was busy, having just started college.
Bruce was still beside him, now awake and diligently typing away on a laptop. Jason was on his other side, and he must have eventually fallen asleep, because he was slumped over in his chair, chin against his chest in a manner remarkably similar to how Bruce had been sleeping before. Jason’s hand was still wrapped around Tim’s wrist, his fingers pressing lightly against Tim’s pulse point. Dick was at the foot of the bed, sipping on a cup of coffee and scrolling through his phone.
Bruce was the first to notice he was awake, the change in his heart rate on the monitor likely giving it away. He looked up from his computer sharply, scanning Tim up and down for any signs of distress. When he found none, his face softened.
“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” His expression was hesitant and hopeful, and Tim couldn’t bear to take that from him.
“I’m feeling okay.” Tim’s voice was quiet, and he knew Bruce would sense the lie in his words. But what was he supposed to say? I don't want to be here. I’m upset that he caught me. I wish I’d jumped sooner. He stayed quiet.
The corner of Bruce’s mouth twitched downwards, but he didn’t call him on the lie, just nodded. The quiet in the room felt slightly suffocating as Tim shifted into a sitting position, the bruises across his torso protesting as he did.
Dick cleared his throat from the foot of the bed, giving Bruce a meaningful look that Tim didn’t understand. Bruce just nodded back and patted Tim on the arm, saying, “I’m going to make sure Stephanie and Damian didn’t get lost on the way back from the kitchen with your food. I’ll be back.” Then he left the room, clearly reluctant to go.
Dick moved over to take Bruce’s seat, giving Jason a once-over to make sure he was still asleep before speaking, somewhat hesitantly, “Listen, Timmy…” His eyes darted around the room, focusing on anything that wasn’t Tim. “I know we haven’t been close recently. I- I messed up. I know that. I should’ve explained better, or done things differently when Bruce was gone.” Dick was hunched over, one hand pulling at his own hair. Half of Tim wanted to make sure he wasn’t hurting himself. “I shouldn’t have taken Robin from you like that. Not when I know- I know how much it hurts to have it ripped away. And I should have believed you, and helped you, and-” Dick cut himself off, straightening up abruptly.
He smoothed out his hair with both hands, closing his eyes briefly, before looking right at Tim. His gaze was piercing when he continued, “I’m sorry. I’m gonna do better. I’m gonna fix this, and I hope you can forgive me.”
Tim wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell Dick that it was all okay, and that he believed him. Instead, he whispered to the floor, “I need some time.” He didn’t have the heart to say anything more. Dick’s quiet exhale nearly broke his heart, but he knew it would hurt more had he lied.
Dick didn’t respond immediately. He sat for a moment, breathed for a moment. And Tim prepared himself for the begging, the pleas for forgiveness. He wasn’t sure he would be able to withstand them. Then Dick said softly, just a hint of sadness in his voice, “I’ll be here when you’re ready. I love you, Timmy.” And then he left, so quietly that Tim wasn’t sure he was gone until he looked. And Tim was surprised. And he was so relieved.
Tim sank back into the pillows behind him, unsure how to process the feelings running through him. He was hurting, and broken, and barely functioning, but they didn’t mind. They cared about him anyway. But despite that…
Tim knew before long things would go back to normal. He would go back to being ignored. He would go back to sleepless nights in his painfully empty apartment. But this time he would have to go back to school. He would have to face the media storm over his failure to keep the company. He would have to face his brokenness in therapy. Things weren’t just okay again because everyone had apologized.
Tim wished, not for the first time that day, that he had jumped a little sooner, fallen a little faster. He felt guilty and angry and devastatingly alone in his own head. The hole in his chest burned, and Tim knew that he couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t even be sure they had been telling the truth. Would they really miss him? Were they just feeling guilty now that he had acted on it? He had the overwhelming urge to find one of the scalpels he knew were hidden in the cupboards. He was in no state to resist.
Tim pried his wrist gently from Jason’s grip, and Jason merely rested his hand on his stomach, grumbling softly in his sleep. Tim looked over Jason carefully, holding on to the feeling of being cared for, protected. He bundled the feeling close to his heart and started to undo the monitors attached to him, one at a time. He turned off the noise to the heart monitor before disconnecting each sensor. He started to unwrap the tape holding his IV in place, when-
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jason’s voice was firm, with a touch of something else underneath. It took Tim a moment to realize it was fear. Jason was afraid. There was a numbness filling Tim’s head that made it hard to care.
Tim was silent for a breath before turning to look at Jason, willing his eyes to convey how serious he was, “I wish you had let me fall.” It would have been easier than this, Tim didn’t say. And then Tim smoothed down his IV tape and started reattaching his monitors in silence.
_-_-_-_
Jason was silent. He didn’t know what to say, how to respond. He had hoped that maybe it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and now that they were past it, Tim wouldn’t try to… But clearly, he had been wrong. Tim never did anything spur of the moment. Jason should have known that.
They sat in heavy silence, and he watched Tim like he might disappear if Jason blinked too long. Tim stared blankly at the wall, something bleak and dull in his eyes that Jason wished he could make go away.
“I don’t,” Jason said softly, and Tim startled.
“What?” He looked confused and only half-present.
Jason sighed, sitting up straighter in his seat, “I don’t wish that I’d let you fall. I know it feels like it’s never gonna be manageable again right now. I know you don’t think this will fix anything. But things will get better. I’ll make sure of it. Whatever you need, Tim, we’ll make it happen. You just have to trust me, and, please, hold on a little longer.” Jason’s voice was pleading in a way he rarely let it be.
Tim studied his face, eyes flicking over his features, no doubt gauging his sincerity. Eventually, he turned back to the wall. He didn’t say anything, but there was something fragile in his gaze now, and Jason promised himself that he wouldn’t let it break.
_-_-_-_
Tim didn’t have to sit in his rolling thoughts for long. There was a jarring knock on the door to the infirmary, and Steph burst in, shouting in a sing-song voice, “Breakfast!” She had a tray in one hand, filled with plates of various foods. The tray easily had enough food for all of them. She gave Tim a mischievous look, “And a surprise.”
Damian slinked in behind her, giving Tim a once-over before nodding at him amicably and plopping down onto the cot across from him. Bruce walked close behind him. His arm was thrown over someone’s shoulders, holding them close to his side. Tim only registered a head of dark hair before brown eyes were close to his face, studying him carefully.
“Little brother,” Cass said sadly, tilting her head to the side slightly, her hair sliding across her shoulders.
“Hey, Cass,” Tim said quietly, giving her a weak smile.
She studied his face for a moment longer, and her words were quiet when she continued, her words careful and slow, “Don’t leave. Here now. Will fix it.”
Tears welled in Tim’s eyes, and he knew he’d burst into sobs if he tried to speak. He signed back slowly, I missed you.
Cass smiled, voice warm, “Missed you too.” Then she slid into the small cot next to him, careful of his bruises. She wrapped one strong, lithe arm around his shoulders, tangling her feet with his.
Tim sighed and leaned into her side, letting his quiet tears soak into her shirt. No one acknowledged his crying.
Steph started passing out food as everyone settled in various chairs and draped themselves across cots. Jason grumbled about interrupted peace, but stole a couple of pieces of bacon anyway. Bruce settled in his chair with a small smile, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. At some point, Dick wandered in, dropping down next to Damian and taking a towering plate of pancakes.
Tim let his eyes wander around the room and let the noise wash over him. He couldn't do this alone. He knew he couldn’t do this alone. But he wasn't alone. Jason had promised.
Tim snuggled closer to Cass’ side and mustered up all his bravado to say, “I need your guys’ help.”
The room went silent. Tim continued, his voice shaking, “I don’t think I should be alone right now. Not for a little while.” He kept his gaze locked on the sheets in front of him.
It was Damian who spoke first, “We’ll make a rotating schedule.” He nodded decisively, then held something out to Tim, gaze expectant, “I brought you your horrid coffee, Timothy.”
Tim nearly choked at Damian’s use of ‘Timothy,’ but was too grateful for the coffee to say anything. He took the cup, curled close to Cass’ side, and looked around the room.
I can do this. He repeated the words in his head like a mantra, over and over again. Each gently smiling face made them easier to say. The chatter in the room started back up, and Tim let himself sink into it.
The ache in his chest was so quiet. Less than 24 hours ago, he had felt more alone than he had ever been. His chest had burned and ached. But now… Tim looked around the room, at his friends, his family. Maybe he would be okay after all.