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The moment Jason died everything changed in Gotham. No one was safe, not anymore. Batman was on a rampage, Nightwing has basically abandoned the city, and his parents wanted to move him far away. Tim knew what he needed to do, and he knew who he needed to ask.
This actually something I've been working on and off for a few months now and is easily the longest story in this set. Figured I'd test drive it here and see how it does.
The news only seemed to be getting worse.
Every night they seemed to say the same thing.
Batman has gone on a rampage, Batman has lost his mind, no mercy, no forgiveness, it's only a matter of time before he starts going down a darker path.
Tim couldn't believe those things. He'd grown up watching Batman and Robin defend the streets, defend the innocent, be people others could only strive to be.
But then Robin disappeared. Suddenly the streets didn't feel safe for an entirely different reason.
Tim wondered why. Why would Batman turn so violent so quickly? And then it hit the papers. The information had been leaked. Source unknown.
Jason Todd had died.
Supposedly in a car accident but Tim knew better. Bruce Wayne had made no comment, nor had he confirmed if this was true or not.
But Tim knew. He was mourning. He wasn't about to go to the press and announce his son had died in a freak accident. If he was going to, he would've done it by now.
Some reporters had even gone looking for the ever elusive Richard Grayson for answers. He'd left Gotham for, also, unknown reasons. Though it was rumored that he felt suffocated in Gotham and wanted to be somewhere where he could grow into himself, others said he and Bruce Wayne had a falling out.
A bad one.
Tim didn't know which one he believed.
He hoped that it was something along the lines of the first reason. Gotham was Bruce Wayne's city and Richard felt like he had no room to grow in what was basically his father's shadow. Because if he and Bruce had a falling out. That was going to make his task all the more difficult.
Finding Richard Grayson had been… tricky.
The few reporters that had managed it found him going about his business on random streets and Grayson hadn't responded well to them. He hadn't reacted violently but very hostilely, which was something they weren't used to out of him. He'd always been charming and polite. Even when the questions he'd been asked were rather invasive, he always had a good (what Tim would call) almost answer.
But, based on that information, and the fact that Tim had figured out which precinct he worked out of, Tim had narrowed his location down to one residential building that was walking distance from most things he would likely have been seen at including where he worked.
The city bus halted at his stop, as Tim quickly gathered his bag and followed an older woman out the door. He had been anxious for days. Anxious since he booked the bus ticket to get him to Blüdhaven, anxious since he told the maid that he was going on a school trip for a few days that he knew she wouldn't fact check, anxious since he boarded said bus to bring him to Blüdhaven, anxious when he got on the city bus to get him to this very point.
His breath caught as the bus rolled away and stared up at the building.
This has to work. He has to listen to you.
The city air was thick with smog, giving the sky an almost brown hue, making it feel dirty. Tim waited for the street to clear enough for him to cross. He hadn't really worked out what he was going to say to Grayson. He knew the point he wanted to get across, but he had spent this whole time praying the words would come to him in the moment. Because they still hadn't and he'd made it.
Tim still wasn't sure which apartment was his. The panel only had the apartment numbers on them, no names. Only a slight hurtle and he really only needed inside the building. He picked a random one.
"Yes?" The man sounded old and tired. Definitely not Grayson
"I locked myself out." Tim replied short and simple.
He heard the door unlock as he swung the door open ushering himself inside. The inside of the main lobby was dark and old. The elevators at the end of the hall had an out of order sign that looked like they'd been there for months, next to elevators was a large staircase that led to the rest of the apartments. He needed to wait for Grayson to make an appearance, which he hoped would be soon. He sat on the first step close to the wall and waited. The people that passed him by didn't pay him much attention. He saw through the windows on the door people pass by, he watched as it got darker and darker with no sign of Richard Grayson.
People were dressed sensibly for the chilly weather. It was late November, the weather had turned cold. When people were leaving the building their jackets and coats were drawn tighter and when they came in they were let loose as they quickly made their way up to their homes.
Three hours, he sat for three hours waiting, the adrenaline of getting there finally had long worn off. He found himself dosing off on the step waiting for someone he was starting to think wasn't going to come. Maybe he'd been wrong, maybe Grayson didn't live here. He'd have to reevaluate his research. Perhaps there was another place nearby that he lived in and he just walked further.
Tim decided to try and find the library. It was only seven thirty and it was a week night so it might still be open for kids studying for whatever exam they had going on.
He stood up, tightening the straps on his backpack, and walked towards the door. He pushed open, slightly shoving the man opening the door back.
"Watch out kid." He told Tim, his tone lacking any venom it probably should have with how forcefully he'd opened the door.
"Sorry, I-" He stopped as he glanced up at the guy's face.
He was young. Probably early twenties if Tim were going to take a blind stab, dark almost curly hair, bright eyes, a relatively amused smile, and what was definitely Richard Grayson's face.
"Late for something?" He asks. The joke is clear.
"You." Is all that comes out.
A confused look bubbles across his face. "Sorry?"
"Uh I- I mean, I've been looking for you."
He still looks a little confused if not more concerned.
He opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again. He should've practiced what he was going to say. He tries again only to snap his jaw shut once more "Bruce needs your help." Tim finally settles on.
The look on Richard's face becomes hard and unreadable.
Not a good sign.
"Who are you? Awfully young to be a reporter-"
"I'm not a reporter." Tim cuts him off.
He seems to swallow what he was going to say. "Then who are you?"
Tim sticks out his hand. "My name is Tim Drake." He shakes it cautiously. "We've met, years ago, and I need your help."
"You just said Bruce needed my help and that's why you were here."
"Well it's one in the same thing."
Grayson studies him for a moment. "With what exactly."
"It's not exactly a conversation one has on a sidewalk."
Grayson glances off to the side before pulling on Tim's arm slightly, guiding him off the concrete steps just into an alley by the building.
"Spill." It's a very matter of fact tone.
Tim sucks in a breath. He really should have worked out something to say. "You're Nightwing."
He blinks at him, and then again and again before scoffing. "Yeah okay, sure." His tone was sarcastic, boarding on mocking.
"It's true, I know it's true."
"That I'm Nightwing?"
"Yeah."
"You're hilarious, you know that? I guess you at least are coming up with something different. Everyone else I've talked to are all asking if Jason died and what the hell happened to Bruce."
"I told you I'm not a reporter."
"And I believe you. Where are your parents anyways?"
"Business in Burbank." Tim tells him blankly. He sees no point in lying.
"They're across the country?" He asks, his tone bemused.
Tim nods.
"And they left you alone?"
"No, she thinks I'm on a school trip."
There seems to be a lot of things Grayson wants to say.
"Look, I don't want to discuss that. Like I said, I need you to come back to Gotham with me so you can help Bruce."
There's a hostile look in his eyes. Tim feels his stomach drop. The second reason is becoming more and more likely. He can't imagine what happened between them but, it clearly was still a fresh wound, especially for Grayson.
He sighed. "And what exactly does he need my help with?"
"Do you not know what's happening in Gotham?"
He glanced away from Tim.
"Batman has lost his mind." Tim continues. "He needs someone to balance him out, he needs Robin, he needs you."
"Yeah, but what does this have to do with Bruce needing my help?"
Tim shot him an unimpressed look. "He's Batman, you were Robin."
"I'm not Robin and I promise you Bruce Wayne is not Batman. Why do you think that anyways?"
Tim chewed his lower lip, he didn't know how he was going to respond to Tim bringing up what would likely be a triggering memory. It'd been over a decade but sometimes it didn't matter how long it'd been. "I was at your last show."
All emotion leaves Grayson's face. Even his posture relaxes. This clearly wasn't something he was expecting.
"You probably don't remember but…" Tim trails off reaching into his back pocket. He pulls out a picture handing it to Grayson. "I do. I remember your scream when it happened. My mom was afraid that I was gonna be freaked out by something and then not too long after that we spotted you with your family. I took a picture with you and you said you would do something special just for me. And I guess you did, you performed that quadruple backflip that no one else can do. Robin performed that same move a couple years later."
He looks up from the photo at Tim, square in the face. It's a little unnerving being analyzed this way.
"There weren't too many people who could move like you," Tim continues, "especially at your age. It wasn't that hard to put the rest together once I saw Robin perform that move."
Something seems to shift in Grayson's features. He was quiet for a while seeming to chew on everything Tim had told him. "What makes you think I can help him?"
"You're his foil. You balance him out. Balance out the darkness and the rage, you give him hope or Robin does I guess."
He sighs looking away shaking his head. "I can't be Robin."
So much for denying it. "Why not?!" Tim asks.
"It's complicated, kid. There's so much that you don't know."
Tim scoffed. "He needs you."
"He needs a therapist." Grayson walks past him. "C'mon I'm taking you home."
It takes a second to process those words. "What?"
"I'm taking you home. Let's go." He gestures out towards the street
"That's it? You're not even gonna-"
"I'm not even gonna what? What is there for me to do? Look I don't want to be responsible for you getting hurt so come on I'm taking you back."
"It's like a three hour drive. Maybe it should wait 'till morning when we're both well rested."
The look Grayson gave him was unimpressed. "No. Go."
His tone didn't exactly leave room for debate. But Tim never did leave well enough alone, and besides he hadn't completed his task. "No. You don't understand he needs a Robin, if you won't do it who will."
"Hopefully no one. Look what happened to the last one."
"What happened to him?"
Clearly Richard hadn't meant to say that. "Forget it, now come on before I carry you. And don't think I won't."
"I'll scream if you carry me." Tim crossed his arms giving him a pointed look.
Tim knew he wouldn't win this fight. But maybe he could manipulate the situation just enough so he got something out of it.
"How about we make a deal?" Tim asks him.
Richard raised an eyebrow.
"I'll let you take me home no issues, but you need to tell me why you can't be Robin. A real reason."
He seemed to consider Tim's deal. Leaning back against the wall. "I'm too old." He tells him
Tim scoffed. "That's not a real reason."
"It is a real reason and it's the main reason. Now I've made good on my end, let's go."
"No you haven't, I'm not stupid, that's not the reason."
Clearly he's on the verge of throwing Tim over his shoulder and hauling him off to his car to take Tim back to Gotham. Tim was beginning to worry he'd have to make good on his threat.
"Or you can tell me how Jason died." Tim offers. "Those are your options."
"Why? Why do you want to know that?"
"Because he deserves it. I don't think it was a freak accident. And I get why people can't know the real reason but I want to honor him the right way. As the hero I know he was. Because I know he went down fighting."
Richard shakes his head though Tim isn't sure at what. "Fine but I'm telling you in the car."
"If you don't I won't give you real directions."
"Even if you don't, you think I won't be able to find where you live?"
Tim doesn't say anything, simply gripping the straps of his backpack tighter.
"I guess you'll just have to trust me." Richard steps past him onto the sidewalk "Now are you walking quietly or screaming while I drag you?"
Tim glances down the street to where he'd been gesturing. He really has no guarantees. "You know if you don't make good on our deal I'll just come back here."
"You come back here I'll tell your parents."
"I'll still come. As many times as I have to."
"Are you picking screaming? Is that what this is?"
"No, I'm just stating a fact."
"Then let's go."
Tim follows him down the block towards some unmarked intersection.
"I'm guessing based off the Batman talk and you saying this is going to be a three hour drive that you live in Gotham?" Richard asks them as they round the building.
"Yeah."
"Where in Gotham?"
"The estates."
He stops and looks back at Tim. "The estates?"
Tim nods.
"Sure whatever."
"It's not like you can't fact check me."
They stop at what Tim assumes is Grayson's car
Tim gets settled in the passenger seat as he starts the car.
Tim can't help himself. "Do people call you Richy or Rich or maybe Ric?"
He looks completely offended. "No. No they don't"
"So they just call you Richard 'cause that seems worse than Richy."
"Trust me it's not and no they don't."
"Then what do they call you?"
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to call you Mr. Grayson because that feels too formal and we're both too young for that nonsense and Richard just feels too long. I don't like it when people call me Timothy."
"It's your name."
"It's stupid long."
"It really isn't."
"Nonetheless. I don't like it, and you don't look like someone who is called Richard all the time."
He seems amused at Tim's logic, that and Tim knows everyone calls him something else he just can't remember what.
"It's Dick."
"That's super old fashioned."
"It's what my dad called me. My mom hated it, grew on her I guess."
Tim lets a beat of silence pass between them. "So how did Jason die?"
Dick glances at him. "Seriously? No preamble, just straight into it then."
"You promised." Tim reminded.
"Yeah, and we have three and half hours to kill. We don't need to talk about that right this second."
Tim sighed loudly to sound his annoyance. "Why Blüdhaven?"
Dick makes a face as he glances at Tim.
"Why here when you left? Why'd you come here when you left."
He shrugged. "I don't know honestly. Lots of bad here. Felt drawn to it I guess"
"Drawn to bad things?"
"Drawn to things that need my help" Dick corrected.
"Gotham needs you."
Dick laughed. "Gotham has Batman, Blüdhaven doesn't have anyone. Besides, I was trying to get away."
"You didn't go very far."
"I didn't need to go far. I just needed to go."
There was more in that statement than he was letting on but Tim was willing to let that go so long as he made good on his end of the deal.
Most of the evening traffic was clear by the time they left Blüdhaven heading towards Gotham. Dick's entire focus seemed to be on the road.
"What are your parents doing in Burbank?" Dick asks him.
Tim shrugged. "Working I assume. They don't take me with them all that often."
"They just leave you alone all the time."
"They don't want to disrupt my school life and besides they don't leave me alone."
"Sure sounds like they do. Especially if you're able to make impromptu trips to Blüdhaven."
"They care about me."
"I never said they didn't. It's just weird to me that they would leave you like that all the time with almost no supervision. You're what, thirteen?"
"Yeah. I can take care of myself."
"You shouldn't have too."
Tim didn't like how quickly Dick was reading into his situation. Or how he seemed to know that his parents left often. "You know you were doing things at thirteen that most kids shouldn't be doing."
"Yeah, with strict supervision. I wasn't being left alone for days on end."
"They've been gone longer for further distances." Tim found himself saying. He froze. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't worry about it."
"You're not in like a boarding school or something? They're just leaving you at home with the maid?"
Tim glanced at him. "How'd you know that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Am I right?" Dick's voice was bordering on horrified.
"Are you going to do anything about it?"
"I have half a mind to call CPS, get you some help."
"How is putting me in that broken system going to help?"
"It's not as bad when you have someone maneuvering you through it."
"Well don't 'cause I'm fine."
Dick clearly thought otherwise. But left seemingly let it go.
Tim sighed watching the dark shapes pass by. "Why a cop? That feels very anti vigilante."
"That's kinda the point."
"I don't get it."
"Blüdhaven has a corrupt system. I'm trying to fix it."
"As a corrupt cop?"
Dick shot him a look.
"I don't mean that in like you're taking bribes, or letting guys go that shouldn't be, or tampering with evidence or anything like that but… you're manipulating the system to your advantage, yeah it's a noble one, but vigilantism is still illegal."
"Says the one who's trying to convince me to do it."
Tim chews his lip again.
"I get what you're saying. Two wrongs don't make a right. I have to think of it like bending the rules for the greater good, and when things are better, who's to say."
"You and I both know it won't be that easy and it's still lying."
Dick didn't respond.
The roads between Gotham and Blüdhaven were even less interesting at night. When he'd been going into Blüdhaven the excitement of what he was doing was enough to stave off boredom. But now- the sun had long gone down, the adrenaline had long worn off, and the excitement had long since vanished. He felt exhausted.
He was in the same vehicle as one of his long-time idols, and he just wanted to sleep.
And Dick wasn't helping keep him awake. He seemed completely alert. He must be exhausted doing whatever he'd been doing all day. He wasn't going to be doing any vigilante work tonight. Not when he had to deal with Tim.
The car was warm, a low rumble from the engine as it propelled them back to Gotham, and Tim was still bundled up for the streets. He felt his head start to lull to one side as his eyes went heavy.
He didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep.
It was the brighter lights that woke him up.
They'd made it to Gotham. There was still some distance between them and his home.
But damn he'd slept through all of it. All of that opportunity to get information, to learn about Nightwing, to try and convince him of the need Gotham had for him.
Dick seemed completely uninterested in anything going on. One hand gripping the top of the steering wheel while the other was propped up against the door, his head resting on his fist.
"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" Tim asked him
Dick glanced at him. "Because you looked tired. It would've been cruel to wake you up."
Tim grunted. "No, you were trying to get out of telling me about Jason. Hoping you could get me in my bed and be gone before I knew what happened."
He seemed to process what Tim told him before he started laughing. "That's what you think?"
Tim's confidence wavered. "Obviously. It's what I said."
"Didn't you also say you would show back up at my doorstep if I didn't tell you?"
"And I will."
"Well there won't be a need to. I'm a man of my word. Trust me if that was my plan you wouldn't have woken up."
"Would you have drugged me?"
"No, I would've covered your face. Maybe would've taken a different route. One with less lights."
"So are you going to tell me now?"
Dick sighed. "What are you hoping to learn from all this?"
"I told you."
He shook his head. "Persistent aren't you?"
"It pays to see things through."
Dick sucked in a breath but didn't offer up the explanation he said he would. He just kept driving.
Nightlife in Gotham was beginning to wind down, making way for the more devious tasks the night had planned. Maybe Dick will catch a glimpse of what Batman has been doing and he'll understand what Tim has been telling him.
Tim glanced up along the high edges of the skyscrapers, hoping to see the remnants of his cape as he glided across town over the buildings, to where the trouble was.
He remembers when he was little heading home from his parents' business meetings when they'd gone late watching for the slightest sight of Batman or Robin, just to know they were real and not some news hoax blown way past what it was supposed to be.
How excited he got when he thought he saw something. How disappointed he felt when his dad reminded him it was likely a trick of the light or some trash flying through the air.
His dad didn't like Batman. Thought the whole idea of him was idiotic and asked for most of the trouble Gotham received. When Robin came into the picture he remembers his Dad telling his mom he would never allow such a thing. Vigilante work was no place for a child. He never liked how much Tim idolized the dynamic duo. His mom protected him from his father's harsher judgements, stating that it was just a faze he'd grow out of.
Well, what his dad didn't know wouldn't hurt him. It was for the greater good. Under the masks were people. Though Tim had a feeling his dad wouldn't really get along with said people.
"He's not out tonight." Dick tells him suddenly.
Tim's head whips around to look back at him. "How do you know?"
"I worked with him for years, remember?"
"That's not really an answer."
Dick seemed to debate on what to tell him. "I just know he's not."
Tim flops back against the car seat. "Who was the worst villain you ever faced?"
Dick has a humorous smile on. He thinks about it, letting the thoughts play out on his face rather animatedly. "Two Face." He finally admits.
"Why Two Face?"
"Have you never heard of the things Two Face has done?"
"No I have I just- I thought- you know. What about Scarecrow, or Bane, or Professor Pyg, or you know the Joker?"
Dick nodded. "Yeah they're all bad, but they all work towards their own means. Two Face lets fate decide everything. Even who walks away. Fate needs to be in your favor in order to survive him."
"Well fate's always worked out in your favor."
"Yeah, and one day it won't."
"Is that how it worked for Jason?"
Dick sighed. "No, Two Face isn't responsible for what happened to Jason."
"Who is?"
He hesitated. "The Joker."
Part of Tim wanted to shout 'obviously'. It wasn't a shocking revelation. The Joker kills needlessly. "The- the Joker was in Africa?"
"Yeah." Dick's voice turned tight and guarded. "They didn't know he was going to be there."
"Where were you?"
"San Francisco with the Titans."
Something in Tim was almost afraid to ask. "How'd you find out?"
His expression went hard as his grip on the wheel turned his knuckles white. He didn't provide an answer.
Whatever answer existed clearly wasn't one he could appropriately talk about without getting needlessly worked up. Making Tim all the more curious. What could have made him so upset.
"Does it have anything to do with why you can't be Robin?"
"Please stop." Dick whispered. Seemingly pleading with Tim to leave the subject alone.
Something caught in his throat. Tim was almost positive a major falling out existed between Batman and the original Robin, and Jason's death had only made it worse.
Nonetheless Tim knew he'd hit the limit. He wasn't getting anything else out of Dick. At least not tonight. Of course that was assuming he'd be able to get to him again. No doubt Dick had already formulated some sort of plan to make sure he never had to deal with him again. It was a liability.
They crossed the main bridge that led into neighborhoods, actual honest to god houses with normal families living their lives. Of course right now that meant with kids in bed and parents heading that way.
Tim told him when and where to turn, his directions being the only thing that broke up the silence between them.
Before he knew it they were in front of Tim's home.
"Alright kid."
He looked between the house and Dick. "That's it?"
"Yes. I told you what you wanted to know, now go home. Go to bed. Do stupid stuff that thirteen year olds do. Leave all that nonsense alone. It doesn't concern you."
Tim couldn't believe what he was hearing. "That's it? You're not even going to consider what I told you. He needs you. Don't you get it?"
"I can't be what he needs."
That was a different answer. This went from clearly unwilling to unable. "Wh-what's that supposed to mean you 'can't be what he needs.'? He just needs you."
Dick sighed. "It's not that simple."
Tim scoffed. "Yes it is. I remember when you were Robin. It was that simple. It was that simple for Jason. What changed?"
"Everything."
That was an answer. A real answer. One that answered a lot of questions and created even more. The tone shifted. The tension was palpable. Something clicked. Dick had grown up, likely a big reason for him leaving the role, Robin had taught him all it could and he'd moved on. Tim was beginning to understand why Dick was saying he couldn't do it instead of he wouldn't do it.
"You really can't do it can you?" Tim asked, his voice just audible.
Dick didn't say anything but he didn't need to.
Batman needs Robin not Nightwing. Dick can't be Robin. Not anymore. Jason was dead. There was no one to fulfill that role that Batman had likely grown accustomed to.
"What if-" Tim stopped. He glanced at Dick. "What if I became Robin."
Dick looked at him like he'd grown a third eye. "Are you insane? Robin? You? Not to be cruel or anything but have you seen yourself. You're ninety pounds soaking wet."
"I know that. But think about it. Jason's dead, he can't fulfill that role anymore. You, you're too far removed, going back is a step down. You're meant to learn as Robin but I don't think there's anything more you can learn. I'm a blank slate. If you vouched for me he'd listen."
Dick was silent for a while. At least a whole minute. "No." He said suddenly.
"No?"
"Yeah, no. I'm not sending another kid to their death. I couldn't stop Jason, I will stop you. I've heard a lot of insane things in my life. This by far takes the cake. You are going to get yourself killed."
"You were younger than me. Younger than anyone ever. You weighed less than me too. You were trained and became what you are from that. How am I any different?"
Dick very clearly wanted to argue. But whatever counter he was coming up with wasn't good enough. "N-no. No! You are not doing this. I am not helping you. And if B even considers it, I am going to kill him." The last part seemed to be said more to himself.
He sat there for a while, studying Tim and then shaking his head again mumbling "no" over and over. An internal argument if Tim had ever seen one. Tim let him be. It needed to be worked through in order for Tim to properly state his new developing case.
"Why you?" Dick asked him.
Likely a layered question. Why him in the sense of why was he the one to take up the mantle, but also, why him, as in why did he have to show up and rattle the cages.
"Because who else is going to do it?" Tim felt that was the safest answer he could give.
Tim wasn't sure why, but Dick was looking at him differently. He wasn't sure if that was good or not.
"Go home. Get some rest." Dick finally told him.
"Bu-" Tim tried to argue.
Dick raised his hand to silence him. "Go."
He didn't raise his voice, his tone was calm and cool but left little room for an argument of any kind. Tim felt it was best to listen. That Dick wasn't done with him yet but they needed to be separated to really wrap his head around everything Tim had just told him.
It didn't stop the defeated feeling sinking deep into his chest.
Dick watched him walk all the way up his front path and slip inside before driving away. Tim watched the car lights disappear through the window.
Tim tossed the Pre-Algebra textbook to the side.
He knew all of it anyway.
Bored. He was completely and totally bored.
He considered the idea of sneaking off and pleading his case to Dick again but figured all attempts at this point would be futile and Dick would just call his parents and tell them everything resulting in him getting shipped to that boarding school in Europe he'd talked his parents out of sending him to so many times before. No way could he do any of this abroad.
Tim leaned back in his desk chair staring through the part in the curtains. He always kept them closed. Blocking out the sunlight so he could focus on the work at hand. From what he could see it actually looked nice outside. The sun was bright on the cloudless day. No hint of gray sky, just the pure blue he knew existed above the clouds.
Maybe he should go outside. Try to do something that resembles a functioning teenager.
But of course he did have an English paper to start that he'd been putting off, and then there was the matter of the math homework he'd just pushed away, and there was also that history report on former President William Henry Harrison. Who didn't really do anything interesting other than being the first president to not only die in office but also to have the shortest term lasting only thirty-one days.
But he just had no motivation.
He wasn't sure if he'd failed his mission or if he was having a delay in the mission.
A faint knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts.
The door opened slowly as his mother stepped through.
"Mom? Wh-What are you doing here? I thought you guys weren't getting back until Monday."
She stepped deeper into the room, kissing his forehead. "Some things fell through and we didn't need to stay as long."
"Oh, okay. I'm happy to see you."
"I am so happy to see you too. I hear you went on a school trip last week."
Tim blinked. She'd talked to the maid, normally she didn't. "Yeah, uh boring. Nothing to regale you with unfortunately."
"It was cut short. You got back in the middle of the night." She furrowed her eyebrows. Something was up.
"Yeah." Tim said after a moment. "Flu outbreak with a bunch of the kids. They just sent us home. I didn't want to worry you."
"Okay, I'm glad you didn't get the flu."
"Yeah me too."
"Anyway, your father will be back later this evening and at dinner we have something we wanted to talk to you about. But that can wait until tonight so I'll let you get back to studying alright."
"Yeah okay."
And with that she left the room.
They were probably sending him to a new boarding school. That's usually what it was when she worded things like that. That's also likely why she was asking him about his 'school trip' the week prior. Though it wasn't obvious if she was suspicious of anything.
Tim glanced out the window again. It really was a nice day out. Maybe he should grab his camera and take some sort of advantage of the weather before it turns gray again like it always did.
He snuck out the side door and looked for anything mildly interesting. The pond down the way slightly had ducks, he supposed that could be interesting to someone.
After several shots of them he was going to look for a new location.
"You know for someone who does stalkerish photography the ducks seem kinda tame." A voice called out from behind him.
Tim gripped his camera as he turned around. Dick stood several feet away with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket.
"What do you mean?" Tim found himself asking.
Dick pulled his hands out. "I mean it's impressive that you got a shot at all." He pulled an image on his phone.
One of Gotham's hundred rooftops at night, with what looked like a shadow dashing across the bottom corner of the frame. A red Tim was unlikely to ever forget. A red Gotham was unlikely to forget. Robin's red, almost invisible unless one had a trained eye or had spent an insane number of hours staring at it.
"Jason." Tim breathed as he took the phone to study the picture closer. "It- uh- I took this about-"
"About a month before he died." Dick finished for him.
All true. If Tim had known that was going to be one of the last chances he got he would've tried harder to get a better shot.
"What are you doing here?" Tim found himself asking.
Dick shrugged. "Honestly, I-" He trailed off for a moment. "I don't know. You show up and suddenly…" He cuts himself off. "I can guess how you found me, but I would like the details."
"Process of elimination. I narrowed down your location based on the evidence available. I mean it took a minute but once I figured out where you worked it wasn't that hard."
Dick considered him. "How'd you figure that out?"
"The tabloids mostly. I assumed it had to be somewhere near there and- the employment database isn't exactly secure."
His eyes narrowed. "You hacked them?"
Tim glanced away.
"Not bad, considering you're untrained."
Tim head shot back up. "What?"
Dick sighed. "I don't think it's a good idea, but then again, it probably wasn't to bring me in at nine or Jason in at twelve. I don't know too many people in those age groups who make good decisions. I can't be Robin. There is too much-, I just can't anymore. And maybe you're right and he does need that balance."
Was he saying what Tim thought?
"That being said. I am not enough to convince Batman."
Tim's breath caught in his throat. "We- Well what would we need? Like who could help or-"
"Leave that to me. I'm working on it."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I am working on it."
"That's really vague, if I'm gonna be involved I should be kept in the loop too, maybe I can help or something."
"Oh yeah? Still no. If it doesn't work I don't want to get your hopes up or give you the wrong idea and think that I think this is a good idea at all."
Tim chewed the inside of his cheek. "Thank you." He blurted out.
Dick studied him for a minute. "Don't thank me yet.
"No you- You listened to me. You believed me, you believe in me. I don't have a whole lot of that. Even if this doesn't work out the way I want it- Thank you."
Dick's whole posture turned sympathetic. It was clear he wanted to ask something. "Your parents got home this morning." He stated. Not a question, an observation.
Tim glanced back at the house.
That wasn't what he was expecting.
"Yeah, dad has some work so he left, but my mom's home. Which is nice."
He watched as Dick's lips twitched upward. "Lay low for a while. Let me build a case for you. Like I said this isn't gonna work without support. Keep this on you," He tossed Tim a burner phone "I'll reach out. If something happens, call me. Okay?"
Tim examined the burner. Standard flip phone, programmed with two numbers. He glanced back up inquisitively.
"The first number is me. The second number is for emergencies only. Just tell them I told you to call."
He put the phone in his pocket. "Okay, who is it?"
"Someone who will be mad I gave you their number, but… they'll help if you ask." Dick clasped his hands together. "Okay, stay on top of school. I'll know if you start slacking. I'll be in touch." Dick turned on his heel, "Have fun with the ducks." He called back as he made his way back up the hill.
Tim gripped the burner in his pocket. Dick was concerned something was gonna happen. Like he'd become a target. That is mildly concerning.
He couldn't stop the smile on his face if he wanted to. He'd listened, Tim had convinced him, and whether or not this worked out in Tim's favor Dick was actually going to try.
Tim wondered what kind of support Dick was attempting to obtain. There weren't many people Batman worked with regularly that were public knowledge. The support might be people in the League or other allies that Tim wouldn't know about.
Maybe Dick was trying to convince Superman this was a good idea. Which seemed unlikely, given that Superman was his own hero in another state thousands of miles away. Maybe Dick was trying to convince Batgirl. That seemed far more plausible. She was someone who the public did know about, she operated out of Gotham, and worked with Batman regularly. She still did.
Tim fidgeted with the burner in his pocket. He wondered when he'd see Dick again. Hopefully soon. He took a glance at the ducks, heeding Dick's warning. But also hopefully not soon.
"Tim, honey, you seem distracted."
Tim glanced up at his mother. Her eyebrows drawn in. "Hmm?"
"Where's your head at, son?" His father asked, clearly as equally distracted as Tim had previously been.
"Oh, you know, nowhere really." Tim answers easily. Pushing food around on his plate with his fork. "How was Burbank?" He found himself asking.
"Dreadfully boring honestly. I should've just stayed with you here instead." She joked.
Tim forced out a laugh.
He's glad she didn't. There was no way he would've been able to talk to Dick if she had. Then where would he be?
She regaled him with the very boring details of California, which Tim tuned out for the most part. He'd been to California dozens of times. They usually took him with them in the summer during the off months. He would go with them to various meetings, go to the beach and look for seashells with his mother, odd restaurants with just the strangest food, listen to his father negotiate a variety of business deals, listen to his mother tell old stories while slightly drunk on the champagne provided to her, and so on and so forth.
He really didn't mind going with them but also preferred getting left at home.
"-and I was wanting to know what you thought about it since you've been so against it in the past." She finished.
Damn, he hadn't been listening. He'd had a history of not liking whatever was just proposed. Boarding school likely. He suspected she wanted to talk to him about it earlier.
"I'd hate to leave all of my friends for that long." Tim answers, after a moment. Hoping it will force more context out of her.
"I was talking with Elise and she says you don't go out much."
When had she talked with her about that? "Well we hang out at school for the most part. They're pretty busy with their extracurriculars."
"Of which you have none." She responds pointedly. "You used to be far more involved and this year you seem to have pulled out of everything. Which is part of the reason why I think it would do you good."
He still wasn't entirely sure what she was talking about. "I like my school mom."
She sighed. "I know you do. But this way you would be with us."
He hadn't caught that part. With them where? Why?
He had to bite the bullet. "With you where?"
"In France." His father answered, his tone short. Annoyed. Probably at Tim for not paying attention. Again.
Tim stared at him.
"Have you not been paying any attention?" He folded the newspaper he'd been reading and turned his whole attention to Tim. "We will be in Monaco for several months this year, we have found an excellent school in Paris for you. You would be there for the week and with us for the weekends and holidays."
"I can't go to France."
His dad sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why? No wait let me guess. Because of the school activities that you are not attending and these friends you are not seeing."
"I have been hanging out with my friends."
"Tim, we spoke with several of your teachers last week," his mother interjects.
When had she done this? When had they taken such an interest?
"They say you're a very good student, but you don't socialize with any of your peers. I -We think that bringing you with us instead of leaving you here with Elsie and us coming back every couple of weeks will be far better for you. And besides, there is so much you can do there. There is so much more we all can do."
This could ruin everything. "I don't think it's a good idea." He answers simply.
"Told you he would be against it Janet. Tim, this isn't a discussion. You've become far too isolated. You are going."
Forget this could ruin everything, this will ruin everything. All the work he'd done finding Dick Grayson, helping Batman. All down the drain because his parents had suddenly taken an interest and wanted him to go to a school in Paris.
"I hate Paris," Tim finds himself saying. "It's- It's dirty and loud. Everyone is rude and- and- I like it here. Here is a familiar chaos. Here I can- I don't need to change schools. Would it help if I got more involved here? I just stopped because I didn't see anything interesting to get involved in this year."
That and he'd fallen down a rabbit hole of following Batman and Robin around, taking their pictures, and then finding a former Robin to convince him to go back to being Robin.
"Tim it's more than that." His mom pushed her plate to the side so she could clasp her hands in front of her on the table. A motion she only pulls when she feels strongly about something and wants to make sure that not only is your full attention on her but that her full attention is on you. This is serious. They are going to make him go. "We shouldn't have been leaving you for so long anyways."
"How is putting me in a boarding school any better? Because we'll be in the same country again?" Tim argues.
"We'll be closer if something happens."
"Nothing happens out here."
"Tim, we've seen the news." His dad tosses the newspaper to him. He reaches to grab it. Another shootout at some sort of convenience store. The shooter is in critical condition. Tim reads the date of the shooting. He'd been with Dick that night. "This was three miles from your school." His Dad's tone isn't something Tim is familiar with. "You're not safe here."
This could be something Tim can work with. They just want him out of Gotham. Maybe he can avoid Paris. That's just too far.
"Okay- Fine. What about that school upstate?" Tim asks cautiously.
"You said that school lacked any sort of standing you felt you could excel in, if I remember you correctly." His mother told him.
"And I stand by that statement, but it's better than Paris. It's within the state, they speak English, and let's be real my French is terrible. And it's out of Gotham."
There was a collective sigh from both of his parents. "Tim, I have heard you speak French. It's near fluent. Most of our time will be shifting to Monaco and Europe as a whole anyways. We hope to be living there full time within the next two years depending on how this goes. This way you're already there, adjusted to everything, when it becomes official. And we can avoid having this fight then." His dad clearly feels the argument is won.
"Why would you want to live in Monaco?" Tim asks him. "You hate that environment. Something you've told me repeatedly."
"You. Are. Going. This isn't a discussion. You'll finish the semester here and will officially begin your next term there. We'll take you to visit the campus during your fall break here in a couple of weeks."
"So why ask my opinion at all if it won't matter in the end."
"Tim, this isn't a punishment. We're just trying to look out for you." His mom tries.
"Why not earlier?" Tim snaps. "This wasn't an issue until just now."
"Things have gotten worse."
"Okay, so you only care when I'm in danger. Got it." Tim stood up from the tablet and stormed off.
"Tim-" His mother called but didn't follow.
This was just perfect. Of course they would become more insistent at this point.
He flopped back on his bed. They didn't think he was safe here. He wouldn't be any safer there.
He glanced at the drawer on his desk. Where he'd stored the burned Dick had given him.
He should tell Dick to stop. Tim definitely can't be Robin all the way from France. At the end of the day he did still convince Dick that Batman needs his help. The primary objective was completed, and, as awesome as it would be to actually become Robin, it was probably best if he didn't get involved any further. Look what happened to Jason.
Not that it made him feel any better. He sat up.
They didn't feel he was safe in Gotham any more. He glanced out the window. He could make out the downtown skyline and what he was pretty sure was the Batsignal. No one felt safe in Gotham anymore.
Robin was needed in order for Gotham to be safe again. He needed to stay. If he became Robin then Gotham should become safer. Then he has a better argument for his parents to leave him here. He can cross the full on moving to Monaco thing closer to when it actually happens. Really if; Tim was very confident that the move wasn't happening even if he agreed to the school in Paris.
He pulled the phone out of his desk. Harassing Dick probably won't help. He hesitated calling.
Tim probably should loop Dick in, or course given Dick current opinion he'll probably encourage Tim to go, maybe even pack his bags for him and put a hard stop to whatever campaigning he had done.
The phone buzzed in his hand.
Can you meet me tomorrow morning? I'll pick you up.
He should tell him.
What time? Tim finds himself asking.
If he isn't successful, he's going to Paris. He might leave everything in worse shape than it already is.
Sunrise
But then again…
I'll meet you at the pond.
Tim never did know when to leave well enough alone.
This whole challenge was a lot of fun. Thank you all for the comments and the just warm response for everything. I have other things that I'm getting ready to go so be on the look out. On that note I'm glad all of you stuck around and enjoyed what I put out there. I will be back with something new and different. Bye!
