Disclaimer: Yeah, you know, it's not mine, the charas and the universe is DC's.

So, this story is sort of the sequel to my story "When Darkness Comes", you probably want to read that first. All that aside: have fun reading :)

And the Moon Rises

Tim entered Wayne Manor through the back door, stopping in the kitchen as he saw himself confronted with Alfred preparing breakfast. For one person. His favourite.

"Good morning, Master Timothy." the butler said in his usual kind tone with a hint of amusement. Tim would have sighed in relief at the use of his first name instead of his last, but that would have given him away.

"Morning Alfred." at least he had had the brain to take of the mask before coming back home, even though Alfred wouldn't even raise an eye-brow at that, maybe tsk in disapproval. Alfred nodded towards the table and Tim sat down while the plate of chicken, tomato, mayonnaise sandwiches was pushed into his direction as well as a cup of cocoa. "Thank you."

Alfred sat down across from him as Tim took the first tentative bite.

"How was your night out with friends?" Alfred asked politely while he started to polish the silverware that had been in a box besides the butler. Tim swallowed before he answered, his mind knowing it was a trap, but hoping Alfred would just let it slide. Something must have gone wrong with his plan to go out without someone looking for him.

"It was good, we were dancing." Not really a lie. Alfred nodded. There was a long moment of silence in which Tim ate his sandwich and drank the cup of hot chocolate. He leaned back in his chair after he finished and thanked Alfred for the meal. Alfred smiled and let him get as far as the door, before he could reach out for the door-knob however, the butler spoke again.

"Do you want to tell me where you really were?" Tim slumped a little but shook his head.

"Not really." he answered and turned towards Alfred. Alfred looked concerned as he studied him. After a while the butler nodded.

"Go to bed, Master Timothy, you look exhausted." Tim smiled weakly and turned to do exactly that.

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It were a few weeks later, when Tim's calm centre began to fray again, as exhaustion and lingering pain took its toll on his body and mind. Bruce was out on patrol without him, because apparently Tim had sprained his wrist in a fight against Red Hood, he didn't even want to talk about the bruises all over his body, and therefore Tim was not allowed to hunt down criminals for a while. Which didn't stop him from sitting in front of the computers and follow some trails he had been watching for a while and to keep an eye on Batman.

Almost without a sound, someone dropped from the ceiling behind him. Tim continued his tipping and ignored the intruder for a while. The intruder there while studied the several screens in front of him and took a few steps closer until he could settle a hand onto Tims neck. Tim relaxed a little into the touch.

"Shouldn't you be out there, bringing order to this city?" a deep voice asked and Tim smiled as he held up his injured wrist.

"I'm benched." he turns the chair around and looks up towards the dark clad figure standing over him. "Thanks to you."

There is a flash of regret in dark green eyes, but it is gone in a split-second. Jason shrugs and lifts Tim out of his chair, to stand close against his body.

"It's your own fault, you could have broken my arm instead." Jason said and smiled awkwardly. Tim nods.

"Yeah, but then I would have to live with the disapproving glances of Bruce, you know that." Jason chuckles at that. "It was the smaller ill." The hand on Tims neck had wandered towards the back of his head, strong fingers massaging his scalp, the other hand had settled on his hip, while his own hands had settled on Jason's shoulder-blade and his side underneath the leather-jacket. They were both touch starved.

"Alfred suspects something." Tim whispers, stating the inevitable fact, that they had both known would come for them. Jason snorts softly.

"You have to love the SIS." They both smile and sway a little, left to right and right to left. Almost dancing on the spot.

"Come with me." Jason says, his voice barely a whisper in Tim's ear and Tim's heart seizes as his breath shortens and his gaze falls back towards the monitors.

"I have one last thing to do." he answers and Jason tries to get another look at the screens but Tim turns his face towards himself. "And it wont be long now. I'm almost done."

Green eyes study him with doubt and hope warring in their gaze. Jason nods. Whatever Tim needed to do first had to be important.

"I have to go." Jason says quietly. Tim nods reluctantly but knows that every moment that Jason was here, he could be seen by Alfred or Bruce and they would be found out. They slip out of each others arms, but not before Jason puts a small kiss on Tim's left temple.

"Until next time, Baby Bird." he says, as usual and disappears with a graceful jump into the darkness of the cave.

"Goodbye Jason." Tim replies, the calm in his heart again settled.

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It was coming to an end. Tim had followed the movements of various groups over a couple of months, almost a year. He had infiltrated different locations, mostly as one of the goons, sometimes as delivery guy. Apparently even villains needed to eat. He didn't say that it had been easy, especially hiding this operation of his from everyone else that knew him had been excruciatingly hard, but finally it was coming to an end.

He had found what he had been looking for. The pattern that had been almost impossible to figure out.

He was currently preparing everything for this last mission in a small apartment that had been empty and rotting before he found it and was still rotting now but was filled with everything he needed. The material he slipped into was dull and black, but soft on his skin. He could slip into every shadow without anyone noticing him. The mask covered all of his face and hair.

He wasn't like the two Robin's before him, Tim mused as he slipped his hands into soft black leather gloves. He was more dispassionate. He didn't know why, but there had always been an emptiness inside him. He knew what feelings were, he even experienced them like he thinks everyone does, but he sometimes looks at the world and there is no passion in his heart for saving it.

Dick, he knows, doesn't have those moments. He is downright righteous about saving the world, or at least part of it. And Jason, Jason's passion about saving Gotham is slightly screwed. Tim knows that, but he also knows that Jason is partly right. He doesn't know why out of all of them he is the one mostly screwed in the head. He had had a stable home, a happy home before he joined Batman. Still it was him with the moments, the moments when he looks at Gotham, and therefore his world, and just wants to turn his back on humanity and watch them slaughter themselves into extinction. Sometimes there was a distance between him and everyone else, and deep inside himself he enjoyed these moments as much as he feared them.

It was ridiculously easy getting your hands on a gun in Gotham, it was even easier to acquire knives. So finding nondescript weaponry wasn't a problem. Tim slipped the blades in their hiding places, testing the weight and his mobility with them on his body for a moment. He was ready.

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After almost a year of planning and learning everything he could, it hadn't been very difficult to get into the 'bedroom' of the man who had killed Jason.

Tim walked silently over towards the cot that was used as a bed. The Joker was sleeping deeply his breath steady and slow. Tim didn't hesitate, he wasn't here to be heroic, he wasn't here to be honourable, he was here to kill the bastard. He pulled the knife out and with a swift stab through vocal-cords and larynx he had the Joker awake but at the same time as good as dead and silent.

The green eyes of the Joker glinted with surprise and malice as they met his. Tim repeated the stabs right and left on the Jokers neck, opening his carotid arteries. He would be dead in a few seconds with the swift flow of blood. The Joker tried to move, to reach one of the knives he undoubtedly had on his person, but already he was too weak. The mad man grinned fiercely and that expression softened just slightly in death.

Tim breathed a sigh of relief. It had worked. It was over.

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Alfred's heart almost stopped as he got the papers from the door. There on the front-page was the picture of the Joker pinned to the side of the police station in down-town Gotham. Dead. The headline proclaimed what he already knew from the picture. His mind rushing through thoughts like an avalanche and his heart sank and lifted with disappointment and relief.

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Bruce, or Batman as he was at the moment was called to the Station by Gordon. He couldn't belief what he saw for a moment. That man, that creature had taken many precious things from him, had made his life a living hell most of the time. There was still a crazy smile on the Jokers lips and if it wasn't for the deep cuts in his neck and the pure amount of blood covering him, Batman could almost hear the mocking voice and laughter, could almost deny that someone had killed the Joker.

"Any clues as to who is behind this?" he asks Commissioner Gordon, but the man shakes his head.

"No. It looks professional. The cuts are precise and deep, no hesitation marks or defence wounds. We're still trying to figure out how he got up there without anyone noticing or any cameras catching something, but other than that, we have no clue."

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"The Joker is dead." Jason almost threw a knife at the voice in surprise. He had turned and there was Tim, clothed in black with an equally black full face mask clipped to his hip and several knives hidden on his body. The former Robin lowered his weapon as he registered who it was, then the words that had been spoken sank in.

There was a tight painful knot of fear, resentment and desperation in his chest that finally loosened and almost disappeared. There was also confusion and another form of resentment but most of all, a strange kind of happiness.

"Did you kill him?" it was breathless and unbelieving and hoping. Tim nodded.

"Yeah." he looked a little lost for a moment and searched Jason's face for clues. Jason walked over to him, pulling him into half an embrace.

"Come with me?" he asked again, hope now dominating his tone of voice. Tim closed his eyes and leaned against him, pressing his face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Yes." Jason finally got the answer he had waited for almost a year now.

Now they could disappear from Gotham, now they could start a life without most of their baggage. Somewhere where no-one knew who they were. Somewhere where they could dance.

"Thank you." he whispers into Tim's black hair.

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THE END