Dick had just finished waxing all of the cars in the garage with Alfred when he walked into the Bat Cave. He saw Tim sitting on the cave floor poring over a notebook. "What are you doing? Why are you sitting on the cave floor?"

Tim glanced up from the notebook he was holding. "I was just writing that assignment. I don't know why, but sitting on the floor helped to get the creative juices flowing."

Dick laughed a little. "You don't have anything creative flowing through you."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should go away before we get into another fight, and Alfred makes us both do chores."

Dick moved closer, despite Tim's suggestion. "Aw, come on, Timmy, that's no fun."

Tim turned to his right to keep his back to Dick and continued writing. "I'm busy."

Dick continued to advance, even though Tim obviously didn't want his company. "Now you sound like the Bat."

Tim shrugged. "Being around you does that to me."

Dick sat down on the floor next to him. "So, what did you decide to write about?"

Tim didn't even look up. "You know, things that would never happen to me."

Dick couldn't help but notice the hurt in his voice. "Hey, I was kidding. You know that."

Tim still didn't look at him. "You might have been kidding, but that doesn't mean you were wrong."

Dick mentally kicked himself for what he had said earlier. "Sure I was wrong. What makes you think I wasn't?"

Tim didn't feel like going into it. He knew there was no way he would ever be as good as Dick, not in or out of the suit. Tim also knew that voicing that opinion would only make it all the more true. He moved further away from the man he considered an older brother. "I really should finish this before Alfred comes down." Tim was hoping that would be enough to make Dick go away, but he knew Dick better than that.

Dick stretched his neck to look over Tim's shoulder. He was trying to see what Tim was writing. "I'm sorry for what I said."

Tim didn't even acknowledge that Dick had apologized. He just sat there. Dick wasn't even sure if he was writing anymore. It looked more like he was thinking about something--something that had nothing to do with writing. Dick leaned in closer. "Can I read it when you're done?"

Tim shook his head as though he was trying to clear his mind, and focused on what Dick had asked. "Trust me you wouldn't want to."

Dick wasn't exactly surprised by Tim's answer, but he wasn't expecting it all the same. "Why? Did you decide to kill off Nightwing after all? It's okay if you did. The guy is kind of a jerk sometimes." Dick was hoping that would get some kind of a reaction out of Tim, but he still only sat there.

After a few moments, Tim put down the notebook and pen. "I didn't kill off Nightwing." Tim didn't say anything else. He simply got up and walked out, leaving the notebook on the floor where he was sitting.

Dick walked over and picked up the notebook. He flipped back to the beginning of the story and began to read. The prompt was on the top of the first page. It was more than just write a fanfiction, which would be why Tim was having such a difficult time coming up with ideas. The prompt was to write a fanfiction about your favorite show/book/movie et cetera, and incorporate real heroes into it.

The story was about the show Tim was most recently obsessed with. Dick couldn't remember the name of it, but he recognized the characters' names. He also noticed that the heroes Tim had chosen were both Robin and Nightwing. Tim didn't lie either--he didn't kill off Nightwing--he killed off Robin. As Dick read on, he couldn't help but feel a knot form in the pit of his stomach. The actual death scene was written rather gruesomely, and the aftermath of the death was horrible. Tim had written that no one cared about Robin's death. The end certainly left something to be desired from Dick's point of view. The story ended with everyone carrying on like nothing happened. A new Robin arose as though the previous Robin had never existed.

Dick dropped the notebook to the floor. He couldn't believe that Tim actually felt that way. He couldn't believe that Tim had actually written that. Part of Dick wanted to race up to Bruce and force him to read it, another part of him wanted to run up to Tim and smack him for writing something like that; but a much more sane part of Dick wanted to run up to Tim and just hug him. After some thought Dick raced up the stairs to do just that.

Unfortunately, when he got to the top of the stairs he ran into Alfred, sending both of them to the ground. Alfred had been holding a large tray with tea and sandwiches on it--that toppled to the ground along with the two of them. Alfred, slightly dazed, began to stand and clean up the mess. Dick looked down at the mess. "Oh, man. I'm so sorry Alfred. I would love to help you clean that up. In fact, I should do that for you, being that it was completely my fault and all, but I have to find Tim right away."

Dick was about to run off when Alfred said calmly. "Master Dick, Master Timothy just left. He didn't say where he was going, but then again, none of you ever do."

Dick started to panic, but in true bat fashion, he didn't let it show. He quickly began to clean up the mess of tea and sandwiches, and when he was finished with that he dashed down the cave steps again and headed out to find Tim.