I finally found inspiration and wrote a Tim Drake one-shot. It kinda went a different direction than I expected it to at the end though. :) Enjoy!

Tim was used to solving problems alone at this point in his life. It's wasn't sad or anything, it was just the truth. Solving problems was what Tim did. Solving cases, crimes, murders. He was good at it. And unless someone asked for his help, he worked alone.

The advantage of having his own apartment was being able to avoid going seeing the others in the Batcave at the end of his patrol. He could avoid Damian and his angry glares, Jason and his passive-aggressive name calling, Dick and his overprotectiveness, and Bruce and his Bruce-ness. Really, Alfred was the only reason he ever stopped over, and Cass, when she was there.

It wasn't that they weren't his family. They were, various murder attempts on him aside. It was just that he didn't want to deal with them unless he had to and he knew they didn't want to deal with him. Besides, the only reason they ever did end up seeing him was when someone asked for help on a case or when Bruce stopped by WI to see how he was running everything.

So that was why when he found a magical amulet, he didn't call anyone to help. Sure, he could have called Steph or Babs. They were both in town and weren't people he was actively avoiding, but Steph was busy with college because of her finals and Babs was busy actually spending the day with her dad.

Long story short, magical amulets sucked ass. He was physically incapable of fighting anyone or intentionally causing harm, with words or actions. He'd figured that out after touching the amulet had made him pass out. It only took a quick search on the web to find out the myths on the amulet and another quick call to Zatanna to confirm.

He was stuck being a civilian until he got whatever voodoo the amulet worked off of him. Luckily, Zatanna had promised to come over in a week to help him fix it. Unluckily, Zatanna had promised to come over in a week to help him fix it.

Tim wasn't sure he would survive a week.

He was definitely planning on doing his best to stay away from all of his siblings for the week he wasn't able to retaliate against anything they did to him. He would enjoy skipping his coffee for a few days, sleeping eight hours a night, and actually finish WI work on time and stay late at the office. He could even catch up on Dancing With the Stars. Evanna Lynch was on this season, and his inner Harry Potter nerd demanded he watch her.

He made it through five days of living a semi-normal life before trouble came crashing through his window, literally, in this case. Red Hood was on his living room carpet, soaking wet and bleeding out. On top of him was a… something with wings. Manbat, if Tim wasn't mistaken.

Jason was struggling to push the beast off of him when he noticed Tim, frozen on his couch, tango music playing in the background and hefty bowl of popcorn on his lap. Tim heard his pseudo-brother swear loudly, something along the lines of: 'It just had to be him, the little fucker. Fuck me.'

Tim sat there, frozen, as Dancing With the Stars played in the background. He couldn't help but compare the way Jason was fighting with the Manbat to a dance, and that made him snort.

"Glad I can amuse you," Jason barked. "Now get a frying pan and hit him over the head!"

Tim shot up and ran to his kitchen. Briefly, he bemoaned what would be the loss of a perfectly good frying pan, before tossing it over to Jason, who proceeded to soundly whack the Manbat on his head several times.

Jason stood up a moment later, pushing the body off of him and wiping the frying pan against his jacket.

"Here you go, Timbo," Jason said, handing the bloody thing back to him.

Tim held it with two fingers, watching it like it might give him a disease. He turned around and gingerly dropped it in his trash.

"He's not dead, is he?" Tim asked, watching the Manbat curiously.

"No," Jason scoffed. "I mean, look at him, he's clearly breathing. I'll call Bruce and have him do whatever he does."

"Jason, this is my home. You can't just lead monsters here and ruin it whenever you need some help," Tim growled, wiping his hand down his face.

"You usually don't mind it when I do this much. What, did I interrupt your Dancing With the Stars marathon?" he asked smugly.

Tim felt his face go red but didn't look away from Jason. "Yes, you did. Besides, this is only the second episode of the season. That's not a marathon. And it was only for Evanna Lynch anyway," he finished.

Jason's popped off his helmet, leaving him standing there in only a mask. Tim watched warily as his smirk grew larger and larger.

"That's the chick who was in Harry Potter, right?" Tim wasn't an idiot. He knew it was rhetorical. "So, a Pothead? Got the glasses and everything? I shoulda known."

Tim crossed his arms and refused to acknowledge the blush building up. He knew he should have just stuck to wearing contacts unless he was sleeping. But no, he'd assumed that no one would come to bug him while he was watching TV late at night. Past Tim was an idiot.

"Jason, I'm going to have nowhere to stay. You ruined my apartment."

Jason shrugged, obviously not feeling at all guilty. "The Manor is there. I'm sure B wouldn't mind."

Tim glared at Jason with all his might and wished very sincerely that he could strangle him.

"Damian's there."

"So?"

"I can't be near Damian right now."

"The kid's ten. What, are you scared of him?"

Tim scoffed. "Of course not."

"Great. Then what's the problem?"

Tim weighed his options.

"I'm staying with you."

"What!" Jason shrieked.

Tim was proud to admit he took pleasure in seeing Jason so horrified. Especially since his curse never put any restraint on terrifying anyone.

"You ruined my apartment," Tim pointed out. "It's only fair. Besides, all I need is two days, then I'll go stay in the Manor until my apartment is fixed."

"No way in hell that's happening, Tim," Jason growled, looming over him.

Tim smiled passively and flicked off an imaginary piece of dirt from his Green Day t-shirt.

"Okay, it doesn't have to. Just remember, you know who Evanna Lynch is, and she was in the fifth movie. You're just as big a - what was the term you used - Pothead, as I am. It wouldn't be hard to spread that around."

Jason paled. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?" Tim asked. "It would ruin your reputation. You've always called yourself a connoisseur of fine literature and movies. You made fun of Harry Potter for being cliche and overused."

Jason ripped his mask off of his face and took another menacing step towards Tim. Tim simply looked up at Jason in boredom.

"I hate you," he growled before turning around sharply and pacing into Tim's living room that was still occupied by the Manbat. "Fine. But don't you dare breath a word of it, or you'll be missing more than your spleen."

"You really want to make threats now?" Tim asked cooly, examining his fingernails and raising an impeccable eyebrow.

Jason made a noise of frustration.

"You know where I live, stalker. Don't get there for at least an hour or I may kill you."

Tim shrugged and watched as Jason put his mask back on and slid the helmet on top.

"Fine by me. You need to give yourself stitches and I need to finish Dancing With the Stars."

Jason mumbled something rude and held his middle finger up to Tim before leaping out the window. Tim settled down on his couch and turned up the volume on his TV, ignoring the heavy breathing coming from the unconscious and injured Manbat. Bruce could take care of him when he got there.

By the way, I finally got a Tumblr. It's thefuriousstarlightstudent.