Damian comes to the scene years after Batman started training the Collective. It's a small motley group of kids, Crime Alley and Narrows, trying their best. Batman doesn't visit much, honestly, only coming by with aid and new and new recruits. The get some training sure, and some of them even become part of his network as it is, joining the Oracle, Signal- Duke, can attest to that. Some of them leave, too, of course. Harper and Cullen- Bluebird and Redbird, now- move to Bludhaven, sibling dynamic duo raging through the streets, sort of like how Batman and Signal do back in Gotham.
Damian appears wearing black, full black, perfect replica, almost of his Father's. Batboy is a demon on the streets, who's blade strikes too clean and apathetic in contrast to the pain it inflicts. Batboy is effective, and the criminals are terrified. The Collective is worried, about this new, wild variable in their midst. Batboy is strong and scathing, and undoubtedly, truly, loyal.
Batman isn't happy though. Batboy is too violent, too uncaring, too lethal. And Tim can't help but watch them through the barrier of computer screens and phone cases, their arguements, yelling, the explosive rage and blowup that resulted in Batboy getting fired and turning into Leviathan, leaving Gotham for the Titans somewhere up.
There's a collective shaky sigh of relief. Batboy was unstable, he hears their scorns, made the Bat even worse than he was before.
But Tim doesn't think that. Because he's been observing. Because Batboy did work, in a way. Having a child sidekick changed things in the first few months. He was kinder, less reckless. It was only after Damian... Well, continued being Damian- that things went south fast- the arguments, ferocity, the rage and bloodied fists and beatings.
Batboy worked.
The boy behind the mask didn't.
And yes, it was selfish, it was arrogant and naive and he was an absolute fool to think that some idiotic simple fan like he was could replace the literal Blood Son of the Bat.
But he does so.
Batman glares at him from behind his mask, cold and angry. Tim shakily dons the coat of black-gold-green, the latter of which he's seen only recently, too well blended into the night.
The Collective starts out small. Just a year into Batman's entrance in Gotham. Back when no one was sure if he was real or not. Back when the memories of his parents' laughter was still scorched into his mind like ill-faded stains on cloth.
Duke isn't a superhero- not yet, anyways. But he's angry and righteous and raging- which means it isn't long before there's rumors of a kid in bright colors leaping around playing hero.
But maybe that's an overstatement.
He's not beating up criminals or anything. Far from it. On contraire, he is a criminal. He steals food, steals clothes, sometimes money. He steals for others, too. Hiding kids from abuse or cops comes later, comes with more responsibility, more people, more stealing.
With more notice. They get documentations. They get mentions. They move- they need more.
The thing is that they don't have more. And Duke realizes, once, twice, almost everyday, that this will be temporary. They can't continue. But the thing is, this, too. They can't back down. Becaue no one's going to stand up for them otherwise. Duke stares at the smog-ridden sky, sighs, and shuts his eyes against them.
Batman hears of a group of kids on the streets. Kids that try to help. The negotiations are small, hesitant at first. Neither of them trust each other. Respect is far less. But then money pours in. Faciliities and aid, food banks and shelters, and free medical care, and clean foster systems.
For a second, there's hope. And then that hope extends.
And there's never been a real leader. Duke has never been a real leader. But once, Batman looks at him- and there's not exactly any respect or aknowledgement there, and Duke has to force down the anger when he sees the pity, but-
But Batman is making a difference. The Collective, is making a difference. They're making a difference, and that's something. That's something that makes his unbelievably giddy, the fact, idea that he's having an impact, so he can excuse the looks, pretend he doesn't notice, because he's not beneath Batman. He has powers of his own. They're partners. Equals.
" You need training."
Batman's never been good with feelings. And you see, Duke has never needed another parent. And that's okay, because Batman's fine with just taking him in as a ward, just training him, just training the Collective, training and training and training-
And when Duke gets to be his own hero, he wears his own symbol on his chest in daylight. He's not a sidekick. He's a partner. They're partners, along with Batgirl.
Harper and Cullen, officially, have never known Bruce Wayne. Bluebird appears on the streets for varying moments. Once, twice, more, until she's frequenting them as often alone as she is by Batman's birds appear in Bludhaven years later. Bluebird and Redbird. And suddenly, Bludhaven has it's own pair of superheroes, just like Gotham.
The thing is. Tim was never going to be Robin. Never planned to be placeholder for long. He was just there to stall for when someone better came along. He tried coming into contact with Damian. Just once. He quashed his unease and stilled his heart and asked the seventeen-year old if he wanted-
Damian Wayne glares at him, tells him to leave, and shuts the door behind him.
Timothy Drake takes up his old mantle, smelling of engulfing shadows and dullness, and hopes it will not swallow him entirely.
" I told you." Barbara says at Tim's funeral.
" We should've saved him." Duke snaps accusingly.
" You could've saved him." Stephanie growls.
Cassandra doesn't say anything.
" He could never have handled it." Damian yells at him.
Bruce strikes him across the face.
They don't talk for a year after that.
Timothy didn't like saying he was replaced.
But he was, in a way.
Even if Ra's was exaggerating things, he was still basically right.
And he was okay with that, really. He was. And Jason was better. That was true, too. Jason was the best son that Bruce could have hoped for. He was someone that Bruce wanted.
Tim could accept that, too. He didn't want to be someone Bruce wanted. He knew he could never do that- it just wasn't who he was. Batman didn't even want him. Hell. Probably didn't even care that much when he died either. Tim wasn't what Batman wanted. But he was what he needed.
Whether Batman wanted it or not.
" So." Jason says, casually. Damian's never been especially social, and not really with Bruce. " I know you hate him-"
He stops. Hate is a strong word, but he's used it. " But he wants you to come by. And I do, too. I mean, you're kind of my older brother, right? And you don't have to act like it, I guess. But it'd be nice. If you came."
Damian snorts.
" Please?"
" I have work to do." Jason sighed.
" Think about it, I guess. He misses you."
He comes back screaming. It's a bad choice, in hindsight, much like all the other choices in his life. He's in a coffin, there's not much air, and if it wasn't for the downpour and anger and desperation and half-dead, half-crazed insanity rattling through him-
Tim knows what he is. He's a failure, an unwanted particle in a grander scheme. He was foolish, barreling into the vigilante life unwanted, in pursuit of some idiotic fantasy of grandeur. He didn't suceed. He couldn't have. He wasn't made into it, not like Batman and Superman and all of the others. He wasn't born into it either, not like how Damian was, not like Wally, not like- and he couldn't have. He was average. Pathetically so. He was a civilian with the barest of martial arts, and how, why did he think he had any chance of being able to fill the shoes left for him by the Son of the Bat himself?
He couldn't. That was an obvious fact. And if he didn't come to it himself beforehand, than at least it would have been bashed in later, right alongside the electic pulses and terror-
Well. The fact was: He didn't matter. Didn't have any importance in between the legends and the heroes and the echoes of greatness. What was he? Simple, civilian, Tim, who thought he could play among the gods and ended up crashing like Icarus. Except there wasn't a Daedalus for him, not really.
Not to mourn him, at least.
That was just the thing. The final bowtie on everything else. He'd forcibly crashed Batman's life against their will. It made sense for him to be dragged out the same way. They probably didn't even care that he was gone, not by much anyways. Tim wouldn't either. After all, it was his fault for being an idiot in the first place. For going after the Joker. For daring to think he could be as good as his idols.
He hoped they were doing alright.
Cullen goes undercover after Steph dies. Harper paces in circles beside him.
" Are you sure you need to do this?" She stresses angrily. Cullen folds up the clothing in his bag.
" You can handle Bludhaven without me." He points you. " And I can take care of myself."
The League of Assasians find him, quickly. He's brain-dead and amnesiac and almost entirely crazed for most of it, of course, so he doesn't remember the statistics. He learns later, obviously. Six months dead, three months wandering Gotham, eight months of being kept in the League, rotating between mindless wandering and comatose sleep, constantly beind tested and tested and tested- before being tossed into the pit in the hopes of creating a proper host or heir or whatever he was planning- for Ra's al Ghul after the previous one left.
That was Damian. Because, once again, like all the others- and this could make him laugh, it could, it really could- no matter what, he's always going to be the replacement, the second choice, the third choice, the choice behind all the rest. Talia pulls him back from the water, half-screaming, just like he was when he was in the coffin. Except, this time, his brain is healed. Theoretically.
Theoretically, he's sane now, he's alive- fully. His brain works. His sanity patched. But he's empty. Blank. Gray and wiped and slated. Something hollow inside like a monster that's neither hot nor cold, but rather just there- eating away at him listlessly. And maybe that was on purpose, too, the emptiness for when something would be put in. For when Ra's decided what to do with him, whether that was molding him into the perfect little warrior or heir or even just as a sacrifice for him to use.
So Tim's blank. Really. Ra's seems to have plans for him though, so he listens.
Listens. Trains.
Talia narrows her eyes almost sorrowfully, and paces outside his training.
Jason is Shadow when Batman plucks him off the streets and into the manor. The first left. The second Shadow died. Jason curls his fingers against the glass panel, the words etched into the plate at the bottom of the glass.
A GOOD SOLDIER.
Jason wonders if that's what's expected of him, too. Shadow isn't a prize, Damian had scowled at him. Don't use it lightly. It'll get you killed.
The suit shines gold in moonlight. In the glass case, there's marks and scars and burns where Timothy Drake was tortured to death by the Joker. Something itches inside him.
Jason doesn't know why he feels like that should be his own fate.
Tim didn't stay in the League for long. He didn't go to Gotham immediately, either.
Talia gives him smiles and reassurances, tells him about the latest news in Gotham, all that. Then, she pushes him into a riverboat so he can use his backpack of money to rent a hotel while she sorts things out- she doesn't tell Damian about him, they're still estranged at the moment, something-something-Ra's al Ghul and Blue Beetles and an extinction- which makes sense.*
She also sends him to Europe so that he can train and get a way from Ra's. Also makes sense.
His mother isn't talking to him. Damian doesn't know why. He hasn't been going on much with the Titans. He and Father had been getting... on better relations in the past few months. He still didn't like the fact that he had younger siblings now. Signal peels pomegramates beside him. He's humming, but Damian can't tell what.
" Stop that," he says.
Duke hums louder.
Damian narrows his eyes in concentration, fists clenching around his knife. " What is that?"
He asks, finally.
" Something my mother used to sing." Duke responds, almost loftily. Damian huffs.
" I haven't talked to mine for some time. She's avoiding me."
" You know, you used to say that you didn't need any of your parents to be a hero." Duke grins. He's not laughing, not exactly.
" Back then, I was with the Titans."
" You quit?"
" I don't go around them as much as I used to." Damian confesses. " I think they like you more."
Jason spins threads from his brain and puts them onto paper. He traces the creases and edges of crayon and pencil, and holds it up to the sunlight.
" Falcon?" He asks.
" No." Damian refutes.
" Winter Falcon?" He adjusts.
" That's ridiculous," Damian scoffs.
" Snowhawk."
Damian snorts. Jason glances back. " It's a good name."
" Something different." Damian suggests.
Jason groans. " I'm never going to finish this if you keep putting me down like that."
Damian ruffles his hair.
" You have time. I promise."
His trainer is a trafficker.
Tim contemplates shooting him in the head.
He does the sensible thing, of course, and blows off his less vital regions instead.
Barbara hates phantom pains. Especially on cold rainy days like these. Grave robbers. Batman still hasn't found out who took the body. Barbara hasn't either. Which just makes everything even more frustrating than it already is.
" Still nothing?" Duke asks. Wearily.
" Nope." Her coffee mug sits cold beside her. No use now.
" I don't get it!" Harper storms. " Why would someone want to steal a teenager's body?"
" Me either," Barbara says. " But I can't find out who they are."
" No security cameras?"
Barbara glanced back in annoyance. " You asked me that before."
It doesn't warrant much mention. He gets trained. He plans and waits and looks up articles on Gotham, see how long it takes before he can go back. Check up on his family. He daydreams about Gotham, worries about it too. Sure, Batman's got a new Shadow- thank God, he's been agitated about what Bruce might do if he lost another partner in five years.
Somewhere between London and Warsaw, Tim's father dies from a Boomerang through the chest.
Cassandra hates her father. Hates him for hurting her and making her into a weapon, for training her against her will. That doesn't mean she can't love him as well.
She goes by to check up on him when other heroes' family and partners start getting killed. He's in prison, of course. Sitting quietly.
She doesn't talk to him.
But she doesn't leave either.
" What are you planning?"
" Helping Bruce. You understand."
" You need to come back."
" No."
Stephanie loses Tim, finally, when his last living relative dies. A burglary gone wrong. She hates it.
What she hates even more was the similarities. Black Mask beats her to death. Joker electrocuted Tim. She lives to die in a hospital though.
And. Stephanie knows how this is supposed to play out. She's supposed to laugh, die knowing she will meet Tim in heaven or somewhere like that.
Instead, she lays down on the bed, eyes unable to open with their bruises, and thinks that she very, very much, does not want to die.
She doesn't.
Tim did.
That's what's different.
It's some time from when he gets buried to when he returns. He doesn't plan on doing so, but he had a mission, and he still has one, really. Gotham still needs a protector, and Batman can't do it alone. Besides, he's still worried about him, even if he knows he doesn't have any right to.
He's here for Gotham and Batman, because they need him, whether they want him or not. And maybe, that's just him talking, trying to convince himself of his own importance, that he still has a place- but if so, it's a damn good lie. But Gotham's different. And not the architecture.
Batman… Has people, now. And it's with some sort of horrifying gut strike that Tim realizes, realizes that he really wasn't that important. That he could have been- was, is, replaced.
Of course, he knows most of them.
They still have Oracle. They still have Signal- metaphorical golden wonder that he is. There's Cassandra, Batgirl, and of course, she can do what Tim never could, was able to succeed and succeed and succeed, be able to fill the world in Batman's shoes the way that Tim could only ever dream of doing in Damian's. And they have Steph, too, in a way that makes him feel even more insignificant than he knows he is.
But here's the difference:
Tim's version of his family were in name only, and a team sometimes. They worked together, they stopped talking, and they left.
And then, they would be alone, of course.
Jason- yes, he knows- somehow, Jason fixed that, in a way Tim couldn't. Patched up all the cracks and shards left behind from Tim, and meled it as though reperation was easy, and not some forging of a decades-long canyon of pain and loneliness.
Part of that makes him angry, at the proof how how useless he is. He's not sure why. He's always known that he wasn't necessarily needed.
But the point of it's clear, really. He's gone.
His position- and really, he could laugh, it was never his to begin with- was gone. And Gotham was all the better for it, wasn't it?
Bludhaven explodes, and the first thing that crosses Harper's mind is to look for her brother.
Then, for Slade Wilson.
" 100, 101." Cullen says. " That's how many died."
Harper narrows her eyes. " It's not your fault."
Cullen snorts, letting out a laugh from his throat. " I know that. I know that." He chokes. " I wish I could've saved them."
His eyes are red, and his fingers bruised and bloodied. " I shouldn't have done that." He says. " I shouldn't've listened to him."
The thing is, that Tim isn't angry. He's not rage-filled or vengeful or anything. If he was, he'd leave, let them think he was dead, go rejoin the League or fuck off in Paris or somewhere in Nebraska or something. He's just. Resigned, in a way. Not enough to fully abandon them, of course. He'd never. But Batman doesn't need him now. Never truly needed him, anyways, because Tim knew that he wasn't needed. He'll watch over them of course. They still need him to watch over them, he's sure, because Bruce is still far from stable, and his family is still breaking, and he's not having any thing better to do than the Mission, so why not?
Honestly, he's a bit relieved, that Jason took over for him. He'd been worried sick when he found out how long he'd been dead. Worried about Bruce, how he was coping, if he was coping. Batman wasn't in a good mental state when Damian left, far from it, and Tim and Duke had barely dragged him out, and from Tim's death-
Because. Batman refuses to kill. Because the Bats refuse to kill- and really, Tim doesn't have anything against that. Because they don't need to. Batman shouldn't have to, and Cassandra shouldn't have to, and none of them should make that choice, he understands that. Respects that, even.
But that's the thing, too. Gotham doesn't deserve that. It needs more than that. Because Gotham can't just depend entirely on Batman. Gotham needs someone willing to do what it takes to make them safe. Needs someone to dole out their own justice. Needs someone to look after all of them. Needs someone to depend on, someone to get their hands dirty, needs-
Needs someone willing to kill.
And Tim Drake can do that. Can do what Batman and Signal and Spoiler and Batgirl and Shadow can't. If he was good at anything, it was knowing what to do. How to solve problems.
And he can solve this one. He can- if it's the only thing he does right.
Tim Drake is going to give Gotham what it deserves.
What it needs.
What Batman needs.
Whether they want it or not.
Stephanie spends time in Africa before she can come back. Leslie lets her help with relief and medicine and such when she heals just enough.
" Do you want to go back?" Leslie asks, once. Stephanie stops for a moment, putting down her book.
" They revealed my identity." She responds. " I'd- Batman."
She pauses, clears her throat. " Black Mask is dead. A new vigilante killed him, named Cardinal."
Stephanie pauses.
" Oh."
Don't get him wrong, Tim doesn't go in guns blazing. Murder is, and has always been, a last resort. And by that he meant last-last resort. Usually he does behind-the-scene jobs, manipulation and computer tech, drugs and anonymus phone calls. He does beat a lot of people up when things get too out of hand, but lethal force? Not if there's some other way. It's only after somehow his twelve-step contingency plan fails- there weren't supposed to be an influx of new recruits so easily damn it- he bashes the heads of twelve traffickers in with a staff and shot five others with a gun that the newspapers call him ' The Cardinal'.
Honestly, it's not bad. Better than they usually came up with.
And maybe it's just a bit of indulgence, but eventually, eventually he strings up a new uniform for himself, relatively simple, red with black pants, black cowl connected to a cape ( firmly tied around his chest and connected to his belt- didn't want one of the Bats to reveal him before he was ready ), red and black gloves and footwear, and a utility belt. Never forget the utility belt.
Honestly, he liked it. It was pleasing to look at, and he could only imagine the look on Bruce's face when he saw the he proud of him? Proud of how Tim was following in his footsteps, like how Damian failed to do? He hoped so.
Or he would be stoic. Honestly, Bruce probably wouldn't care.
She coughs up blood when she wakes up. Shiva stares at her considerably. " That was foolish," she states calmly. " Do you want to die?"
Cassandra opened her mouth. " Yes." She worded out, testing it on her lips.
Shiva snorted. " Foolish." She said again. " Like all of the rest of them."
Cassandra didn't move, watching. Thinking.
" Okay." She says, picking up the sword broken on the ground.
" Continue."
There's rumors of a new vigilante killing on the streets. Signal tracks him down.
" Who are you?" He asks, afternoon sun smashing against dark cowl. The man grins, bo staff whipped out in front of him.
" I'm Batman."
" I killed him."
" Signal- calm down- you're hyperventilating."
Duke let out a shrill, shrieking laugh before clamping down on himself. No, no laughing.
" I killed him." He repeated- was he going insane? " It- I'm- He hurt Jason." Duke finally choked out, near breathless. His mind felt unreasonably blank. " He killed Tim. What he did to- my parents. I hated him."
" So you killed him." Cullen said, whispering, clasping his fingers in his hands. He paused, licked his lips, as though unsure of what to say next. " Where's the- um, body?"
Signal lifted his head. " Wayne Manor." He whispered. " He went there- I- couldn't. I killed him."
He hesitated. " I'm sorry."
Cullen breathed sharply. " Why?" He asked, as though tenatively.
Signal stared up. Tore at his lips.
" I can't regret it."
Black Mask tortures Stephanie to death.
Tim stares shocked at the screen, brain racing and racing.
The Joker killed him with electric pulses.
Black Mask killed Steph with beatings and pipes.
How many more?
" Have you ever had a productive moment with Damian outside of scolding him?" Barbara spits. Bruce doesn't respond, watching the footage nigh wordlessly. The footage breaks through his head like a whirlwind. The bullet slams through Damian's head. He loses momentum along with his memories, crashing into the snow.
Bruce's mind jumps and skips and twists the surroundings into alleys. He thinks he tastes blood.
" Pause." He says. Barbara does so. Her eyes don't get any less accusing. " He's with Thompkins. Don't-" She pauses, bites her lip. " Don't be you." She concludes finally.
" I won't." Bruce says.
Barbara hesitates. " Talia might be there too. Do you want me to check?"
" No." Bruce bites. " I'll go."
Barbara stares at him, as though calculating just what he would do. Then, apparently satisfied, she sighed.
" Go see your son, Bruce."
After Superboy dies, Cassandra leaves. Jason paces angrily in place. Tim sinks listlessly, his fingers clicking aimlessly on the keyboard. " The League of Assassians."
Tim shoots up. Jason continues talking. " That's where she has to be."
He doesn't explain further, something racing through him. Tim's eyes widen. " I'll go." He says immediately. Jason's eyes widen, quickly wrenching him in place. " And what, let Ra's use you as a host?"
His eyes narrow. " Who else could go?" He responds. Jason paused. " At least let me go with you. Or bring a ransom, or something." He offers.
" Batman allows that?" Cardinal asks.
Jason glared. " I'm not letting you go alone."
" Little birdie flew from the nest, did he?"
Cullen glanced up. He forced his shoulders to untense. " I got sick of certain things."
Slade snorts. " Like what?"
" Unimportant." He needs to leave here- this place. Slade watched him quietly.
" So." He finally spoke, rather amicably. " Did you change your name, or is it still Redbird."
" Renegade." Cullen corrects out of obligation. " Do you need something?"
" An offer," Slade corrects, and Cullen can see the eye socket twitch from under the patch. His lips coil into a mockery of a smile. " So, the thing is..."
Tim shoots Black Mask through the head as revenge.
Then, he picks up the news, and retracks his family's footsteps.
He came back stronger than when he left. He was always going to watch out for them then. He'd still do it now.
Shadow was not going to die, again.
" Sheila."
That's the first thing Jason gasps when he awakes from the explosion. His lungs rattle like loose screws and chainsaws. He gasps and coughs and sobs, flashes tearing through his head.
" Did you rescue her?" He asks weakly.
Harper bites her lower lip, marks around her eyes where the mask sat outlined red around her puffed eyes.
" No." She says. Her teeth grind audibly, eyes flashing. " Jason- she betrayed you."
Jason felt anger boiling inside him. " She's my mother-" he snapped quickly. "- She should be alive- too." A sickening thought gripped him.
" You didn't voluntarily leave her- did you?"
Harper's eyes widen.
" No." She says. A considerate look suddenly flew over her face. " We found you a few feet outside the explosion. Someone rescued you before us."
Jason blinked. " Really?"
" Yeah," Harper concluded. A sudden bark of laughter swept through her. " We don't know who he or she is right now." Her eyes gazed warmly down at him. " You're lucky, kid. Get better."
Kon dies. Funny. Tim can't find it in himself to think anything. He should have expected this. He comes back, and everyone else has to die. His father. Steph. And now? Connor. Tim hasn't even been able to tell him he was alive. He hasn't even been back in Gotham for six months, and already, he wishes he never came back. He was so caught up on checking on his family, he forgot about his friends. How many times had Tim promised that he would be closer to Kon? Not enough. Tim tried. He tried to keep them safe. He tracked them and tallied them and kept watch and saved them when he could, did everything he could for them without anything in return.
It still wasn't enough.
Lex stops her heart for two minutes before she wakes up again.
The pain is the first thing she notices- jolting, burning, white-hot. The metal clamps down over her skin.
" Bruce?" She asks, dazed. Then, she snorts. " I thought I was going to die."
Batman's hand reaches quickly to her forehead, wiping away the sweat-slick hair.
" No." He whispers. " Not again. Not ever again."
Harper giggles, though perhaps the more accurate word would be sob.
" I hate you." She whispers. " Oh, God, I hate you so much."
Tim used to say he would never be like Bruce. Not after Babel happened. Nowadays, he tracks the red dots on the screen of his Birdhouse almost religiously, and chalks that up to another promise he has to break.
" You're different," Connor says with a resounding horror and disappointment, when he comes by, and a look that sends annoyance blazing through him.
" Yes," Tim says tersely, uncomfortuable in his own skin. " Tends to be what happens when you come back from the dead."
" No," Kon says stubbornly, angrily. He's frustrated. " I mean. You're like him."
" Who?" Tim asks, though knowing full well.
" Batman."
Signal laid his head gently onto the grass. Soft green stalks brushed the sides of his cheeks.
" So." He says amicably. " Do you want to talk?"
Cullen glanced at him. " Steph? Harper already told me."
" Did you tell her about Catalina?"
Cullen stiffened quickly. Dread shot down Duke's spine. " Shit-" he said immediately. " I'm sorry. I just- if you need anything. To talk, I'm here."
Cullen didn't say anything. He took a deep breath.
" I did." He said. " We talked about. Her." His face twisted unrecognizably.
" I took her to jail. It's good now." He looked at him slowly. " I'm planning to leave for a while. Go undercover. Clear my head."
Duke swallowed, a brief wave of concern flooding through him.
" Are you sure?" he asked. The unspoken mentions of Blockbuster scorched through them.
Bruce dies. Tim lies about his age, takes a large bottle of whiskey to his house, and downs it in half.
Then, he takes some DNA, and goes to the Lazarus Pit.
It doesn't work.
Cardinal leaves Gotham.
" We're family, Damian. We don't fight each other. " Bruce tells him when he comes back to find Cain in the cave. Damian grits his teeth as he lunges forward, following Bruce.
" She was patrolling tonight, Father. Alone. For all we know, she could have gone and murdered someone again." He knows it's harsher than it should be. Jason gives a slight glance at Cassandra, as though he's about to say something. She presses her lips, expression mixed on her face.
" You can't expect me to do nothing except for when you want me to fight for you." She snapped.
" We don't even know what fully happened." Damian growled, at the same time that Bruce said, " She's right."
Damian turns around, his fists are gripping against the rails, chalk white.
" You're letting her dictate the terms? You?" He sneered.
" We don't know the full story yet either." Jason confesses. " But you have to trust her, Damian."
" When I first came. You never trusted me."
" I learned."
" You didn't."
Jason feels like he doesn't have anything to do. He patrols. He goes to school. Sometimes, it feels that the world is moving all around him, and people all over him are racing to make something out of it. And yet, Jason still feels like a backdrop to a greater story. There's nothing ecspecially interesting about what he's doing, what he has done.
And. He misses Bruce. The man was his father. His trainer. Not enough to go searching for him like Cardinal. He's not insane.
But he's never been particularily safe, either. So when Damian is out, Jason take the body. Bruce's body.
And takes him to the Lazarus Pit.
The body is not Bruce's.
Jason realizes two things.
One: He needs to warn his family.
Two: Bruce could still be alive.
Cardinal doesn't have friends.
Wait. False. Tim does have friends- he was never alone in school, at least. Rephrase that better- he doesn't have friends who know he's alive. He is alive. Of course, practically no one knows he's alive, but that's different. The difference is that he's always, always planning on telling Bruce when he's finished cleaning Gotham, but he'll never be able to tell anyone else that.
No one else can know that Timothy Drake is still living, and as far as the world knows, he still died.
Superboy runs into him faster than Tim expected. He's just finished beating a trafficker to near-death when he arrives, which makes the bloody body between them rather awkward to talk through. He pauses as Connor appears. Eyes wide and breathless. " Oh, God." He says, voice raising in amazement.
" I- You- Tim?" The tone is incredulous, and Tim almost thinks- like he saw a ghost, but in a way, he did. " You're alive."
The way he says so is breathless, unbeleiving, not quite sure of what he's seeing.
" Kon." Tim returns, lacking much of that awestruck wonder. " You're doing well. Whatcha doing here?"
He tries to be casual. For as far he knows, Kon could just be here to drag him back. Not that Tim would ever think that of him. Kon's one of the few friends he has. A lot like him. Alone. Unwanted, unanticipated. Not exactly having a place to go or stay.
" I heard you were alive." Connor says, almost gleefully. " I had to see for my- I… I didn't expect for you to…."
He pauses, as though just noticing the body on the floor. Tim blinked. He kicked the unconscious man aside, muttering an apology. " Don't worry. He's not dead yet. What'd you want to talk about."
Kon snaps upward, voice brittle and still in shock. " They said you- the Cardinal. You killed those-" He breaks off, they both know who- " - I didn't believe it." He says lamely.
Tim raises an eyebrow. Then he remembers he's still wearing a cowl over his face. " In my defense, I don't murder everyone I come across." He says. " Besides. I told them. I'll come back after I clean out Gotham a bit. It's fine."
He paused, slowly pressing his boot on the fallen man's temple. He's been there for a while now. Brain damage? Wait- no, faint breathing.
" He's not dead yet, if you're wondering."
Kon is still staring at him, eyes wide. " Oh my God." He says. Astounded . " You. I didn't- You're different."
He says that with a sense of finality, something that makes Tim's blood boil uncontrollably somehow.
" Different." He repeats, barely hiding his anger.
We're both alone. We're both in the middle ground, right, Kon?
But still, the anger in his stomach churned as he recalled Kon's words.
Surely, of all people, he should be able to understand him? They were the same, weren't they? Unwanted. Unknown. The vigilante world didn't want them, didn't expect them. They didn't have a place here.
Much less so as civilians.
Because. No one cared about Tim Drake. No one cared about Connor Kent. Hell, no one even knew they were alive.
Which, he is.
He slowly backs away from the corpse.
" You aren't going to kill Slade, right?"
" I'm not going to kill for him." Cassandra nearly spits.
" Oh. Good." Harper leaps past the second building. " Cullen wanted to, too. I stopped him. Not sure if I can do it again. Or if I want to."
Finding the Joker is… suprisingly difficult. Suprisingly so. Not many traces of him. Sporadic killings occuring randomly and in odd places. Nothing damning, nothing condemning. It's a low spree too, which means there's not a lot of bodies around. Tim hates that he can't track him. Hates that he can't find the one person most likely to damage his family. Damage the people he's supposed to be protecting now.
Tim tracks down his siblings. He doesn't know whether to be upset or relieved. Bruce… Bruce seemed to be doing better and worse at the same time. He was trying, Tim could tell, trying to be better with Jason. Damian had barely started coming back, too, still snappish. Harper and Cullen were still in Bludhaven.
Bruce and Signal and Shadow and Black Bat patrol Gotham.
Leviathan is in New York, and Spoiler in San Francisco.
Tim tries to keep tabs on all of them. Even when he knows its irrational.
He wants to help them.
He is Damian al Ghul- Wayne.
Son of the Bat.
Shadow.
Leviathan.
He knows where he is, knows his place. And they expect him to be there, they do. He deserves the position, was born into it. They expect him to be like this. And he is. But. And that's a weird feeling when he thinks about it, the feeling of anger and hate and fear and relief, all rolled into one vibrating mass of shrieking wails and yelling from within. Because they don't know. And he doesn't want them to know, either.
It's one of those nights when he was 19 that Damian is conceived.
He supposes Ra's let it happen on purpose.
Damian is 26, Drake is 19, Steph is 18, Cassandra 20, Todd 17, and there's an 11 year old Talon lying in the infirmy before them. Damian is 19 when he leaves the Robin mantle. Tim is 12 when he becomes Robin shortly after. He's there for 3 years. Tim dies at age 15, Jason becomes Robin at age 13. Tim's 17 when he comes back. Steph is 15 when she becomes Spoiler, Tim is 14. Cassandra Cain is 17, Tim is 15, and Damian is 23. Damian is 24. Drake is 17. Steph (faking her death) is 16, Cassandra is 18, Todd 15.
Talon is 13. Bruce Wayne is dead. Batman- Damian is alive. The 28 year old vigilante did not look happy to take on the mantle he'd wanted for so long.
Dick figured that Tim- Cardinal- would have wanted to take it. But he was gone. Sure that Bruce was still alive. Dick felt sorry for him, honestly. Coming back to life must have been a great way to assume that others could too. Dick wanted Bruce to be alive. But he was dead.
Jason- Icewing, patrolled with them.
The rain is heavy.
All things that Dick knows.
The reveal doesn't go as Tim wanted it to. Cassandra stares at him from behind the full mask. Tim can still tell she's shocked from behind it. " You murdered them." She says, and Tim braces for an attack that never comes. He blinks slightly.
" They were going to hurt you." He looks at the others. Bruce is still wide-eyed and horrified, something dull in his gaze that must be shock. " All of you. I just wanted... to help."
Cass doesn't say anything, and even from here, Tim can see the gears crackling furiously in her head.
" We don't need your help."
Steph asks, once. " How many of us have died?"
" I did. No one else, far as I recall." Tim says. Dick cocks his head towards him, shoving sweet popcorn between his lips. Damian's telling him that he's going to get cavities.
" Didn't Bruce die, too?"
" He got lost through time." Tim corrects. " Of course, I clearly remember none of you believing me."
" It was pretty crazy," Harper defended.
Stephanie sighed, her head tossing over the back of the sofa, blond hair splashing down like a curtain of gold wool and threads. " I remember dying."
" You faked your death."
" I almost died, too." Jason offered. Tim batted him lightly.
" I rescued you." He gave out a giggle. " Honestly, it really does seem like I'm the only one doing the work in this household, aren't I."
Cass muttered a " So am I," before wordlessly taking the remote from his grip.
" I'm sorry, Timothy." Is what Damian says when he appears. Tim doesn't jump from where he's polishing his own cowl.
" What for?" He asks.
" I didn't treat you very well, before you died."
" Hey." Tim reassures. " We can make it up now. It's not your fault."
Damian stares at him quietly as Tim heaves, moving on to polish his boots. " Cassandra is beyond angry. Forgive her. You murdered people, Drake. " He says. " Father wants to invite you over for dinner."
" With the rest of them?"
Damian snorted. " Private. He suggested a resturaunt nearby." Tim thinks that sounds very Bruce. He's not sure if it's to reconnect or get in touch with a threat.
" Not today." He says.
Batman saves him from the Court. Then he dies.
Oddly enough, it wasn't another Owl who planned it. He stares ahead.
" What do I do now?" He asks. Signal smiled wearily.
" You stay."
There's not much Dick remembers of his mother. But she called him Robin.
So that's what he is.
" You are not Batman." Cassandra says when he tries to take the mantle. Tim chokes from the pain, blood spitting out onto the floor.
" Batman doesn't kill." Tim mumbled. " I know."
There's a slight pause and Tim continues hacking up blood from his chest.
" I was angry, too." Cass says. " When Steph died."
" Hm." The blows to his head ring around his brain, sending spots of black clouding his vision. Cass carefully sat before him.
" Will you stop killing?" Tim groaned.
" Get me a medical kit." He growls instead of responding. " I might end up killing myself."
" Alright." She pauses. " And please. Don't."
Being Batman was supposed to be his birthright. Something that was destined for him. Damian had wanted to be Batman ever since he met his Father, and after.
Now it feels more like an obligation than a want. More like a burden than anything.
Now, he doesn't know what to do.
Cassandra stares at the cowl. " Batman was all I ever wanted to actually do." She said.
Damian doesn't bother lying. So instead. " Father didn't want anyone to be Batman after he died. We know how that worked out."
Bitter. Resigned.
" You can have the mantle if you want."
" I don't want to be Shadow."
" I don't expect you to." Damian says. Dick figures he's misinterpreting Dick's meaning.
" I still want to be a sidekick." He assures. " I just don't want to be. Shadow."
" Hm."
" Can I make my own costume?"
" Sure."
" He's not dead." Cardinal says. Tim stares almost pleadingly. " Bruce. You saw the revived Batman- he isn't dead."
Damian hesitates, before taking in a breath. " No." He says finally. " The Black Lantern- that…. Mockery, of Father. He isn't him. That doesn't mean he's alive."
Tim could scream at that. He nearly shot upright, furious. " Why." He said scathingly. " Are you so damned determined to say he's dead?"
" I killed people."
" So did I." Tim says amicably, punching Damian lightly in the shoulder. He glances at Duke.
" You?"
" Doesn't count." Duke refutes. Tim huffs, not daring to look at Cassandra.
Cullen doesn't say anything.
" He's not lying." Cassandra agrees.
" He's not lying or he thinks he's not lying?" Cullen asks.
" I'm not." Tim snaps. " Trust me, just-" He stomps his foot furiously, childishly.
" The body could have been a dollotron." Cassandra says. " The ones Jason put in the Pit."
" We never had a full discussion about that." Damian glares.
" That explains the body. But how could Bruce have survived the jump, then?" Harper argues. " The only way for him to survive would if the beams transported him somewhere else. He could be anywhere in the world."
" Or time." Signal says.
Very slowly, six pairs of eyes turn to the yellow vigilante.
" Batman doesn't murder." Cassandra snaps.
" No, he doesn't." Damian agrees. " But say that he did. If he did- how would he cover it up?"
" Same way you would, I presume." Jason muttered. Damian twitched. He stopped quickly. " Wait- I didn't mean it like that."
" What did you mean?" Damian asked, following.
Jason scanned the room. Slowly, he felt himself speak. " Well."
Tim pleads and begs, and eventually, Damian sighs, and brings up the prospect to the Justice League. They listen to him.
Tim knows they'd never do the same for him.
Spyral is difficult and annoying and stressing, and Harper really, really, really does hate Bruce.
" I guess we really do have a habit of going under when things get bad, huh?" She laughs with Cullen when she gets back. Cullen just switches channels, nuzzels into his cushions, and groans.
" I'm so going to kill him."
Harper's fingers drag through Cullen's hair lightly.
" I won't stop you."
" Outlaws' is a horrible name." Kon- Supernova says from beneath black eyeglasses. Tim snorts from his spot on the couch.
" Not like I'm making you stay, or anything." Tim says.
Kon laughed. " Yeah, but then you'd just be by yourself, and that's just embarrassing, right?"
" Me and Artemis, technically." Tim corrects. " Of course, two people isn't much of a team either, but I can always replace you with Bizarro. Trade a clone for a clone, right?"
" You wound me, Tim."
" You can't stay Batgirl forever," Jason whines. " Come on. Indulge with me, here. Blackbird? Vampire? Marsupial?"
" I enjoy being Batgirl." Cassandra counteracts. Jason groaned, slamming his forehead with a blue padded palm.
" Come on..." He groaned. " You don't even have to change the costume. Just the name. Orphan?"
Cassandra shoots him a 'really?' look. Jason shied sheepishly. " Oh, fine. Not Orphan. Um. Nightwing?"
" Black Bat."
Jason's eyes gleamed, feet scrambling upright. " Really?"
" No." Cassandra says. " Now, hush."
Stephanie comes back. Tim stares at her through dinner. They're alone. He can't find it in himself to speak.
" You died." He says, hollow, a reaffirmation of a fact they both know.
Stephanie swallowed slightly. " No. You did." It's quiet. Tim's ears ring. Steph stares at him. " I'm sorry."
Signal can't stop looking. There's a sense of absolute terror that's sweeping him from inside. He can't move.
" Move!" Cassandra shouts, forcing him away. Her fingers clasp quickly around his arm, wrenching him along with her.
" Wait-" He calls as soon as his brain clears enough to speak. " My parents-"
" - Are turned." Cassandra shouts back at him.
The ceiling is collapsing before them. The walls are closing in.
They're going to die in here.
Cassandra yells at him.
" Over here-" She shouts, pulling him over. " Through the exit-"
" My parents-" Signal tries again, because it's the only thing he can say at the moment.
" Climb!" Cass tells him.
" But-"
Cass shoves him over. Then, throwing him over her shoulders, starts racing out as fast as she can.
Tim likes to think that he has friends. Jade, Onyx, Artemis, Bizarro, Kon, Stephanie.
Dick and Jason and Damian.
Bruce.
The Court tries to come for him. " They're going to kill me," Dick whispers. He's pretty sure he's hyperventilating. " They- Talon."
He can't speak, somehow. " You won't be able to fight them. They'll kill you."
" Us. And they can't." Damian reassures. " Not all of us. And even if- I'm not letting them get to you."
Dick shakes his head, wrapping the yellow fabric further around himself. " They won't let you have a choice."
Damian's hand rests against his shoulder. " There's always a choice, Richard. We'll just find it, if we have to."
He doesn't know why he's not happy when Kon comes back.
He feels like he should be grateful, laughing, joyous and happy.
Instead, he feels.. angry. As though all the reason for his rage and desperation were for nothing. As though it was meaningless.
William Cobb tries to kill Dick. Jason rams himself into the blade's path, feeling it slice through him.
He doesn't die, of course.
That would be ridiculous.
" You got a new one?" Jim asks. He holds out a hand. " Costume's a bit different. What's your name?"
" I can't tell you." Dick responds fully. " Robin."
" No Shadow?"
" No." Dick coughs. " It's bad luck."
" If you want friends, go talk to them." Supernova insists one day while they're on patrol.
Cardinal snorts, and then proceeds to perfectly bash another man in the gut. " That's harder when you're dead."
" Then get undead."
Kon turned to him, vaguely concerned.
" Tim. Staying dead cannot be healthy."
" Because I'm dead?"
Kon doesn't laugh, and oddly, that unnerves him.
" No." He states. " Because as weirdly patronizing as I know it sounds- you need a social life."
" Outside of?"
" Vigilantism. Duh." Kon shot up, as though struck. " Didn't you have that friend of yours? Blond hair? Blue eyes?"
" Bernard."
Kon nods. " Yeah." He concludes, taking his sunglasses just enough so that he can rub them over. " Yeah. Go talk to him. Or something."
" You're just as bad as him," Roy snaps at him once.
" Why are you like this," Wally had asked, serious even as he disguised it as a joke.
" It's really hard to be on a team with you," Donna points out, sometimes, never on the field, where they're coherent and flowing, but always, always when in the Tower.
Garth doesn't even say it often. He just makes sure to watch him, even as he barks orders out on field.
Damian likes to cite all of this when talking about his childhood and his maturity levels.
Sometimes, he even includes Batman in them.
Bernard stares at him from the porch. His eyes widen, close, blink, swallow. He doesn't say much for some time. Tim doesn't prompt him.
" You're alive." He says. Tim kicks his feet into the dirt.
" Long story," He comments. Bernard's mouth hangs open, just slightly.
" Oh," he says awkwardly. He clears his throat, blond hair sweeping past his eyes. " So. What do you want to do, then."
Something in Tim makes him want to hesitate. He steels himself anyways, upright, and takes a good look at Bernard.
" Well. I wanted to ask if you wanted to go on a date."
Bernard stays still, and Tim can still tell his processing on the words.
" What?" He asks, chokes out.
Tim grins brightly. " Come on," he whined playfully. " I'll tell you all about it."