warnings? just kinda angsty.

summary? set after depths. starring tim drake, dick grayson, and the elephant in the room (and her name isn't zitka (hint: her name is artemis)). timmy tries to understand the subtle shift in dick's behavior over the past few days.


one in the mourning


Tim arrives at Wayne Manor at 01:07 EST (that is, 1:07 AM) on March 23.

The past few days hav been difficult.

Difficult, he thinks as he purposefully boots up the main consol in the BatCave, but difficult in a different sense than the usual 'mysterious, affluent crime syndicate' or 'weapons of mass destruction' definition.

They have been difficult because a woman (B06 Artemis, ID: Artemis Crock, age twenty, blonde hair, place of residence: Palo Alto).

This woman had died. March 19, 21:22 EDT. KIA.

In a better world (the world they fought for), the people who knew her and knew of her would recieve a proper mourning period. But crime never slept and the world wouldn't stop for anyone, no matter how many people loved her. With the added factor of Bruce's absence, the Gotham-based vigilantes (Dick called them 'Batkids' but Tim argued that was undignified) could not afford to properly grieve.

Despite Bruce's absence, Batman dealt out justice, albeit with an added triple back flip or an out of place grin. Dick confided in him that he hated the cape (it was too heavy and Dick wasn't accustomed). But on March 20, less than twenty four hours since Artemis' passing, Dick did Batman's glacial persona proud. His moves were calculated, efficient, and not one flip was to be seen.

Tim, having a knack for *ahem* birdwatching, noticed the change. It could easily be written off as the death of a comrade, but comparing this behavior to Dick's reaction to Aquagirl's demise, Tim couldn't help but assume that this most recent tragedy had affected his idol a little more than Dick was letting on.

As he slid into the large swivel chair before the glowing screens, Tim consoles his actions to himself. He was simply trying to help his older brother, he thinks, fingers poised over the many keyboards. And, Tim adds righteously, fingers already typing up a storm, he was looking out for the leader of the Team. Satisfied that he is doing the right thing, Tim begins navigating through coding at a very quick pace.

He finds the mission report with startling ease. Honestly, Conner's laptop boasted more security than this file. (It, uhm, was for purely scientific purposes.) Tim permits himself a small smile of victory. Maybe Dick was losing his touch. Or maybe Tim's technological skill had been honed to a metaphorical razor's edge.

Suddenly, his fingers pause in mid-air. A thought dawned on him.

It would be just like Dick to install a few ghost programs to alert him if anyone (read: Tim) went snooping through potentially sensitive information. It was ridiculous that Tim had thought otherwise. With a hunted glance around the Cave, Tim assures himself he is alone and redoubles his typing speed, opening several different browsers at once to multitask. He'd get his information, and, hopefully, be suited by the time Dick responded to the alert.

He skims through the preliminary reports and ignores the cross-links to Ferris Aircraft, breathing shallowly as he shifted through personnel files and bank statements.

A buzz of adrenaline shoots up his spine, and he sits ramrod straight in the over-sized chair (Tim refuses to believe Dick's hypocritical teases that he's short). His hands clench atop the armrests as he gazes at what he had been seeking out: Artemis Crock's postmortem report.

COD is listed simply as 'ashyxia.'

Tim slumps into the back of the chair, brows knitting together, devouring the information with single-minded focus. No time to feel guilty or sad.

According to the report, she had been stabbed…

Tapping his puckered bottom lip with a thoughtful forefinger, Time frowns from the depths of the chair, eyes fastened on that one word.

Dick loved wordplay, didn't he? He could always be counted on for puns and quips. Tim mentally drew up his internal dictionary.

Asphyxia. Noun. Greek roots. "Without a heartbeat." A condition caused by oxygen deficiency. Not typically linked to a stab wound-

"Suit up."

Tim shoots up so fast, he nearly falls out of the chair. Settling sheepishly back on to the edge of his seat, he cranes his neck around the back of the chair. Dick has his back toward Tim. His footsteps are almost indiscernible beneath the quiet hum of the multiple computers. But now that Tim is listening for them, he can hear the soft pad of his older brother's feet as Dick walks toward his locker. Tim berated himself for slipping up like that, his sense of inadequacy rising. He hadn't heard Dick and he'd been caught nosing around Artemis' death.

Willing his cheeks to stop burning, Tim discreetly closes out of the mission report, shame curling in the depths of his stomach. Dick probably feels like he couldn't trust him anymore. And he deserves it. Pulling this stunt, after Dick had already lost one of his teammates? Tim curls into himself, eyes glued to the floor.

Dick didn't say anything as Tim hesitantly opened his neighboring locker, pulling out his crisply folded Robin tunic. The red is oddly bright looking in the gloom of the cave. Self consciously, Tim hopes he doesn't appear like some giant ketchup bottle to the people of Gotham (even though Dick has assured him several times on separate occasions that he didn't).

And perhaps that's what the brunt of Tim's problem is. Dick has always been there for him, but right now- when Tim can quite literally make a "T-chart" on the negative changes in Dick's attitude for the past few days- Tim did not know how to be there for Dick.

Sliding down the zipper of Dick's borrowed jacket, Tim begins to shed his clothes to don the costume of Robin the Boy Wonder, who would be accompanied tonight by Nightwing (not Batman).

Dick was in an infinitesimally better mood when he was Nightwing. And Tim will use that to his advantage.

Tim resolves to broach the subject of Artemis' death later on, when the thrill of the job had gotten Dick's endorphins running. Then, Tim will do whatever he can to help.