Chapter Text
Tim had been with the team for three weeks. Three weeks of trying. Three weeks of struggling to fit in. In that time he had never quite shaken the sense that he was living someone else’s story. Cassie and Bart fit into the hero world, something Tim wished for. Their connection and words were confident; their jokes tossed back and forth even in the middle of danger. They could practically understand each other without needing to speak. Tim watched that connection with a yearning as he tried to fit in. They belonged. He didn’t.
He tried to laugh at Bart’s jokes, though it always felt like he was half a second behind the beat. He tried to match Cassie’s confidence, even when his voice felt like his was stuck in his throat.
Every time he opened his mouth, he felt Luthor’s voice snake into mind and wrap around squeezing Tim’s thoughts tightly until all that was left was Luthor.
Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not waste time with pointless chatter. Do not make mistakes.
So Tim stayed quiet. He stayed hidden behind his mask. He was careful, because careful felt safe. If he stayed silent, they wouldn’t notice him and point fingers. They wouldn’t be able to be disappointed.
The only person he didn’t feel the need to perform for was Conner.
Conner didn’t expect him to be loud or confident or heroic. Conner didn’t expect him to be perfect. He listened. When Tim spoke to him, it took time. Conner listened in a way that made Tim feel seen in a way he had yearned for with Luthor. The thought of connecting with Conner like before terrified him.
The more Conner listened, the more Tim wanted to talk. The more Conner smiled at him, the more Tim wanted to hold him close. The more Conner trusted him, the more Tim felt the crawling fear make its way through his body, waiting for the moment Tim would disappoint Conner. Tim always disappointed the people around him.
And today, of all days, Tim felt that fear like it was growing into a hurricane.
~~~~
The shipping yard was chaotic by the time the team arrived. Dozens of civilians were forced to unload and move crates under the eyes of armed smugglers. Many of the workers were battered and bruised; some were more injured than others. All of them wore an expression of exhaustion and terror that made Tim feel uneasy.
Cassie reacted quickly, her voice echoing loudly. “KF, get the civilians closest to the crates. Superboy, take the ones who are most injured. I’ll handle the guards. Robin… ” There was a slight pause– Tim knew what it meant. “Robin, ensure none of the smugglers escape.”
Bart blurred from one spot to the next before she even finished speaking, scooping up two civilians and getting them safely away, “Move move move! Don’t look back!” He yelled loudly as he went back in to save more.
Superboy had grabbed one of the civilians just in time before a barrage of bullets made impact. His voice was steady and reassuring as he said, “I’ve got you.” It made Tim see the hero Conner wanted to be in that instant.
Cassie managed to hit a stray bullet with her bracers, the bullet ricocheting loudly as it hit to the side. “Everyone get back! We’re here to help!”
Tim watched all in seconds, his mind going a million miles a second as he took in the layout of the yard. The civilians were everywhere making it impossible to save all of them quickly. The smugglers were running around trying to organize. Tim saw one of the men jump into the front of the trucks– many following in suit, preparing to flee with their human cargo.
They only had minutes before they escaped. Young Justice was their only hope.
Tim analyzed the scene, thinking, trying to find a way to stop the smugglers, 'If they load those trucks, they’re gone. We’ll never find them again.' He thought, concern lurching in his throat. Cassie had given him a job– he couldn’t fail it.
Tim’s gaze drifted around the room, trying to plan. His mind moved quickly in thought. His gaze landed on a stack of crates that towered over the smugglers. They were using them as cover as shots were ringing out. There were many civilians that were too close. The guards were right beside them trying to get them all into the trucks.
He needed to allow Cassie a chance to get to the smugglers. Tim could create a bit of chaos, controlled chaos, to give the civilians a chance to run and Cassie a chance to attack.
His fingers brushed against his grappling hook on his utility belt. The device was designed to get him places quickly. But with a few minor adjustments, he could make it into a small bomb– just enough to cause the stack of crates to tumble. The height of the crates would fall.
A calculated risk. A necessary one.
Tim bit his lip, as he thought 'I can control the angle. I can control the force. I can keep everyone safe.'
He pulled the device free and thumbed the device open. It only took a few seconds for him to reprogram it.
A warning flashed across its tiny screen:
INTERFERENCE DETECTED.
OVERRIDE ENGAGED.
Tim’s heart hammered.
Do it.
He triggered the grappling hook towards the crates.
The line fired with a metallic snap, breaking through the air like a razor. It hit the crates at the right angle, wood splintering and exposing the smugglers behind them. The perfect opening for Cassie.
The civilians were closer than he had calculated. Too close.
The crates fell faster than physics should have allowed. One of the smugglers pushed them in a state of panic, making the collapse faster. Tim’s stomach dropped.
“MOVE!” he shouted, sprinting forward, he knew he wouldn’t make it in time.
Superboy flew forward, jumping in between two civilians before the wood crushed them. “I’ve got you, hold on!”
Wonder Girl dove for another, shield raised. “Get down!”
Bart zipped between the falling debris, grabbing one of the civilians and moving them to safety.
One man, older and slower, stumbled. The crate slammed into him. Tim flinched back. Tim knew he would never forget the loud crunching sound as it landed on top of him.
Tim’s breath caught in his throat. Without a second thought, he ran towards the man, feeling a bullet hit his arm. He ignored the pain of feeling the world tilting as he dropped to his knees. He tried to push the crate, trying to get it off the man. He pushed. It barely moved.
Tim barely registered his own whispers, “Sir, stay with me, please.”
Tim felt relief the moment Conner appeared, lifting the box with ease. The man groaned, pain etched across his face.
Tim’s hands shook violently as he placed his hands on the bleeding mess of a man.
'I miscalculated. I miscalculated. I miscalculated.' Repeated in Tim's mind as if he were listening to a broken record.
~~~~
The EMTs worked quickly. The man was stable, they said. He would live. He was lucky.
Tim stood frozen as the ambulance pulled away, sirens fading into the night, the red lights reflecting off his gauntlets like blood.
He didn’t feel relief.
He felt sick.
Cassie turned toward him, her expression tight. “Okay. We need to talk about what happened.”
Tim stiffened.
Bart zipped forward, stopping so gravel skidded under his boots. “Dude, what was THAT? Your grapple hook went completely off the rails!”
“It was a malfunction,” Tim said, the lie falling off his tongue.
Cassie frowned, “Tim, your tech doesn’t malfunction like that.”
“It can. It did.”
Bart pointed at the mess of crates. “You sliced through the whole stack like you were trying to film a horror movie!”
“I didn’t mean for it to—”
Cassie cut him off, “Tim, that wasn’t a misfire. That was a weapon.”
Tim’s breath hitched.
Conner stepped forward, hands raised. He placed himself between the two and Tim. Tim should feel relieved, but he felt hollow.
“Guys, stop. He’s shaken. Let him breathe.” Conner said, his hands moving up to ease the other two.
Bart ignored the concern, “Seriously, Red, what were you even aiming at? The sky? The ground? The civilians?! I was right there trying to get them out. Next thing I knew, bam. Crates falling.”
Tim felt his face go blank. “I was aiming at the crates.”
Bart blinked. “Why would you aim at the crates?!”
Tim froze.
Cassie’s eyes narrowed, a look of disapproval forming on her face, “Tim?”
“I—”
He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit it. Not when they were already looking at him like he was a threat.
Bart threw his hands up. “Okay, so you weren’t aiming at the sky. Great. That makes this so much better.”
Conner stepped between them. “Bart, back off.”
“No!” Bart snapped. “Someone has to ask the obvious question! Why would he aim at the crates when civilians were right there?!”
Cassie’s voice was firm. “Tim, answer him.”
Tim’s heart pounded in his ears. “I thought it would expose the smugglers. They were hiding behind the crates. If we didn’t act fast, they would’ve escaped with the civilians.”
Cassie blinked. “So you made a tactical decision.”
Tim nodded,“Yes. Exactly.”
Bart stared at him. “A tactical decision that almost crushed a guy!”
Cassie crossed her arms. “Tim, you should’ve told us. We could’ve coordinated. You can’t just make calls like that alone.”
“There wasn’t time. They were about to load the trucks—”
Bart cut him off. “So you gambled with people’s lives!”
“I didn’t gamble—”
“You DID,” Bart snapped. “You aimed at the crates. You chose to do that.”
Tim’s breath caught, he felt as if the crates had fallen on his chest. He couldn’t breath.
“Tim, you didn’t think it would fall that fast, did you?” Cassie states, as if trying to understand.
Tim didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The silence was enough.
Bart stepped back as if struck. “Oh my god. You really did do it on purpose.”
Conner’s voice was quiet. “Tim, tell me that’s not true. You always plan things out. It was an accident right?”
Tim’s voice barely rose above a whisper. “I was trying to help.”
Cassie shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “Tim, that’s not helping. That’s reckless.”
Bart scoffed. “Reckless? Try dangerous. He should have said something on coms. He could have trusted us to get the civilians out of the way. You know like how we planned it was supposed to happen.”
“Like you have trusted me?” Tim shouted, his voice cracking. “I know you don’t trust me. Even now I can see it in your eyes.”
Bart’s mouth shut instantly, eyes flickering between Tim and Conner– as if Conner had all the answers.
Cassie’s expression softened sadly, but only slightly. “Tim, that’s not what this is.”
“Yes it is,” Tim said, his voice shaking, his chest was heavy. “You think I’m a liability. You think I’m unstable. You think I’m going to screw up every mission.”
Bart opened his mouth, then closed it. It was all Tim needed for confirmation.
Conner stepped closer. “Tim—”
Tim stepped back. “Don’t.” His words sounded methodical and cold.
Conner froze, hurt flickering across his face.
Bart muttered, “He’s doing the disappearing thing again.”
Tim ignored him and fired his back up grappling gun. The line caught on a rooftop, and he shot upward.
“Red!” Conner called. “Tim, WAIT!”
Tim didn’t look back. He couldn’t.
~~~~
Tim landed and ran. He ran from building to building to get as far away from the others as he could. After what seemed like hours, he tripped, falling onto the rooftop. His back up grappling gun slipped from his hand and clattered across the roof, bouncing once before landing near a rusted vent. He didn’t move to retrieve it. His hands were shaking.
He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. Every inhale felt thin, and every exhale trembled as if it were a whistle in a dark cave.
‘I made the right call. I did. I saved more people than I hurt.’ The thoughts circle in Tim’s mind on a loop.
But the words didn’t comfort him. They sounded like excuses. They sounded like Luthor.
Justify your decisions. You are always correct. Emotion is irrelevant.
Tim’s stomach twisted, nausea filled him as he failed to regulate his breathing.
He wasn’t supposed to think like that anymore. He wasn’t supposed to hear that voice anymore. Tonight, it was louder than it had been in months. All he can hear is Luthor whispering inside his head echoing in his mind.
He curled forward, elbows on his knees, fingers digging into his hair as if he could claw the thoughts out of his skull.
He could still see Bart’s anger, Cassie’s distrust, Conner’s concern. That one cut the deepest.
“I didn’t want to disappoint him.” A sob escaped Tim’s mouth as his hand grabbed his at his lips as if trying to hold it in.
But he had.
Because Conner had stepped toward him with concern and gentleness and trust, and Tim had recoiled like he didn’t deserve any of it.
Don’t.
He had said it like a command. Like Luthor.
He didn’t want to be like that. He didn’t want to be cold or dangerous or unpredictable. But tonight he had been all three.
His comm crackled.
“Tim?” Conner’s voice was pleading. “Please answer.”
Tim flinched.
He wanted to answer. He wanted to hear Conner’s voice without feeling like he was shattering something between them.
But he couldn’t.
Not when he saw the moment Conner realized Tim had done it on purpose. Not when he could still feel the team’s distrust like a weight on his chest. He tried so hard to be a hero, but failed.
“Red Robin, come on,” Conner tried again. “Talk to me. Just talk to me.”
Tim reached for the comm, hesitated, and turned it off. The silence that followed was like the crate that crushed the man Tim failed to save.
He had saved lives. He had done what he thought he had to.
So why did it feel like he had just lost the only people who might have cared about him? Why did it feel like he had proven Luthor right? Why did it feel like he was slipping back into someone he had fought so hard not to be?
He curled tighter, dry heaving as if trying to catch his breath. He didn’t cry. He didn’t know how to anymore.
He just sat there, alone on the rooftop, the city lights shimmering below him, the weight of the night was oppressive and confining.
And for the first time since joining the team, he wondered if he should have ever come with them at all.