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Chapter 4
Tricked

It didn't take more than two days for Tim to decide there was only one way to get the answers he needed. There was only one person who seemed willing to give them to him, even if he couldn't necessarily trust the man. Jason was one of them, one of the creatures undermining Ra's. Still, Jason hadn't tried to kidnap him or take him away or force him in any way, and Jason had promised to answer if he asked. Jason was his best chance. Which was why he was sneaking out again.

He'd have to hurry, the demons would come for him twice as quickly now, but luckily he didn't have to look long. He found Jason the very first block he searched.

"Finally ready to hear the truth?" The man seemed to materialize from the shadows as though he'd been waiting. From the angry line of his mouth and stiff set of his shoulders, he'd heard about what had happened to the last one who'd messed with Tim. Good, it would make this easier.

"Tell me." Tim intentionally let his hands fall to his sides, away from any weapons.

"You sure you want to hear it now? You messed Dickie up pretty badly when he tried."

"He attacked me." Tim frowned, arms folded, but Jason only laughed, a cynical sounding thing.

"Dickie couldn't have attacked you if he'd wanted to. He cares about you too much. He might've tried to hug you."

"He would've taken me away."

"Because you're one of us!" the man burst out. Still he didn't make any move to touch Tim, just held his distance.

"Prove it." Jason couldn't just expect him to believe that. It was ridiculous. They were inhumanly strong, unearthly beautiful, impossible creatures. Tim was only human. And yet, why would they be so insistent about it? That's what Tim couldn't figure out.

"I'll show you." Turning on his heel, Jason strode purposefully into the darkness as though he really had something to prove. Tim briefly weighed the wisdom of following the man—the disadvantage this would put him at—and glanced back at the tower, at the flickers of movement among the shadows, before deciding that he'd just have to take the risk. He hurried after.

Despite how quickly Tim knew the man could move, Jason kept to a pace Tim could follow, never getting too far ahead, disappearing around corners only for the minute it took Tim to round them and catch sight of the man again.

Jason didn't look back, not once, to make sure Tim was following him. Maybe he knew. Maybe along with all those other gifts, the man could hear the impossibly small sounds of his feet scraping the ground, or the rhythm of his heart, the breath filling his lungs. Disconcerted but determined, Tim followed on.

Quickly they made their way through the dark streets of the residential district and towards the undeveloped sprawl of broken buildings beyond. Tim hesitated again when they reached the edge, reassessing the risk. It was one thing to follow through familiar streets he'd helped plan—territory protected by Ra's' demons—another to venture into the unfamiliar, dangerous ground beyond. He thought he could handle Jason, if the man tried anything, but if he ran into any more…

As if sensing his hesitation, Jason called back.

"Not much farther."

Eyeing the shadows warily now, Tim stepped out of the familiar streets and into the splintered bones of the old city. The going wasn't as easy now. He had to clamber over large chunks of broken cement, rebar stabbing jaggedly into the sky. Dark, empty doorways stared back at them like dead eyes, the wood long since scavenged for warmth against the winter. Abandoned cars littered the streets, some smashed against each other, some crushed by debris.

Eventually Jason's path led them to a dilapidated church. The stone wall protecting it had long since been smashed down, but the courtyard remained relatively clear, the flowers dead, the ground barren. Jason stopped on the stairs to turn and regard him, and Tim knew that something here was what the man wanted to show him. He stepped warily over the downed wall and onto the grounds, half expecting an ambush, but no attack came, not from the shadows that huddled on all sides, not from Jason. Nevertheless, the effect was immediate.

Everything lurched the moment his feet hit the ground of the courtyard. The demon inside him howled, thrashing, and Tim doubled over, sucking in air. He'd never felt such a violent reaction from the demon before, like it was trying to claw its way out of him. He stumbled sideways a step. He felt sick, his legs shaky, all his strength leeched from him. Or maybe it was the demon that was sick. Either way, it was Tim who fell to hands and knees, heaving violently. It was Tim who tried to lock his elbows against the dizzying, nauseating lurch of the world, only to sink to the ground anyway, forehead pressing against the dirt. It was Tim left curled there to see a familiar pair of shoes come to rest a foot from his outstretched fingers.

"You," he gasped, turning the tiny bit needed to look up at Jason above him, "tricked me." The man crouched down, one gloved hand brushing saliva from the corner of Tim's mouth, almost gently.

"I'm sorry, kid. For what it's worth, I really am."


Jason couldn't help but feel a little guilty watching Tim gasp at his feet, brought low by the very thing meant to protect him from them. But Ra's had gone too far this time. So when the opportunity had presented itself to reclaim the kid, Jason couldn't pass it up.

Now he had a different problem. As soon as he stepped off the consecrated ground, the demon would start to recover. He didn't have much time. Luckily, Jason was fast, and the manor wasn't that far, situated on similarly consecrated ground ever since they'd discovered a pressing need to keep Ra's' demons out. Now it served as the last real bulwark against the man's claim on the city.

Jason scooped the kid up, glancing down only once as Tim moaned incoherently into his shoulder, before putting the speed and power he'd been cursed with to use. Funny how the end of organized civilization had repaired the frayed relationship he shared with Bruce faster than anything before it. Once he would have avoided the man at all costs. Now he didn't hesitate in going there first.

The others heard him coming, of course. They heard the second heartbeat he was bringing with him too, which was probably why they were waiting for him, all of them, two pairs of blue eyes turned his direction. They both riveted to the bundle in his arms as soon as he came within sight, both a different shade of surprised.

Dick was beside him first, hands reverently sweeping hair from Tim's face, unable to refrain from touching, even as Jason continued to stride forward. The kid's eyes had slid nearly closed on the way over, rolling sickeningly.

"Timmy! What's wrong with him? Jason, what happened? How did you…" But Jason ignored the older man's onslaught of questions, not stopping until he stood before Bruce, the only person who would know what to do. Desperately he held Tim out, offering him up to the only other people who cared about the kid as much as he did.

"Help him."


Tim's next memories were distant and blurry.

There were people looking down at him, swimming in and out of focus in his haze. He could just make out bits of the conversation drifting over his head.

"Why didn't the demon leave when he stepped onto consecrated ground?"

"Ra's sealed it inside him."

"Can we get it out?"

The voices were familiar. They nagged at him, faded and time worn like old memories. But try as he might, he couldn't place them. Especially not with the way the demon was still wallowing about sickeningly.

"Lay him down."

He was set down on something hard and flat. He might have tried to curl up, but there were hands on him, pulling at him, keeping him sprawled out so another pair of hands could push the black uniform up. Cold fingers prodded at his bare skin, stroking over the mark Ra's had left there. The touch there sent a shiver through him. That cut through the delirium more than anything, the sudden cold acting as a focus. He didn't want these people touching it, defiling something important. The demon inside him seemed just as agitated, rising up.

It was weak and couldn't completely push Tim under, couldn't even throw off the hands holding him down. Not for lack of trying. Tim raged at them, the demon lashing out, growling and thrashing. He caught Jason's gaze and everything in him narrowed, focused on that face, the one that had betrayed him.

"Liar!" he snarled, heaving against the hold they had on him, fury given direction and purpose. "Liar!" It shouldn't have hurt so much that Jason had turned out to be like all the rest of them. It had been stupid to ever trust him. He'd known that from the start. "Liar!" It was so loud, it hurt to shout it. Jason wasn't even looking at him now.

"Restrain him!" Something cold and metallic clamped around his wrists, another set at his ankles. Tim tried vainly to lunge at Jason again, gnashing his teeth when the restraints brought him up short. It caught his attention, and for a minute his fit was spent in jerking at his wrists and ankles, throwing himself against his bonds in wordless rage. He was filled with mindless enmity, consumed by it. He tried to pull himself up, tried to bite at the restraints he couldn't break, unable to abide this imprisonment.

"What's wrong with him?"

"It's the demon. The consecrated ground is poison to it." The man, the largest one, looked down on him grimly. "We may need only to wait."

The fit didn't last long. It wasn't more than a couple minutes before Tim's flagging strength was exhausted completely, and he sagged back against the table limply, the rage draining out of him.

"I'll need to do some research." The largest one—the one who had to be the Detective—left then. Tim curled up miserably as best he could, shaking off the hands that tried to run comfortingly through his hair. He didn't need their comfort. He didn't understand why they should bother being nice at all, not to an enemy. Eventually even the persistently touchy one seemed to get the hint, and they backed off. There was always one or two of them nearby though, never leaving him entirely alone. Tim still felt awful however, more sick than he'd ever felt before, and he couldn't bring himself to care about their distant presence. Eventually their comings and goings faded into the shadows and he dozed.


Twenty-four hours hadn't brought many changes. Dick looked down at his little brother, lying so still, and hated Ra's in that moment. It wasn't fair that the man had found Tim first this incarnation, experience and numbers winning out in the end. They'd searched so hard, it wasn't fair that Tim should be ripped away from them again, raised beside the man who'd killed him, and it wasn't fair that Tim should suffer now for it.

The demon was stubborn—clinging to Tim as it died—and Dick was secretly afraid it was going to take his little brother with it. In twenty-four hours, Tim only seemed more exhausted than ever, barely stirring as Dick carefully undid the cuffs around one wrist. The skin underneath was raw and bloodied, shredded against the metal by earlier thrashing.

"Oh, Timmy." Lifting the limb with utmost care, he brought it to his mouth, washing away the hurt with slow kisses, because this was their doing. Maybe they hadn't physically mangled the boy's wrists themselves, but they'd put the bands there. They were taking the demon he'd fought so hard to keep. They were taking away his home, the place he'd grown up, his trust in Ra's. They were taking everything from him.

Tim's eyelids cracked at the strange attention, watching Dick work his way around the bloodied wrist tiredly.

"Why didn't you just kill me?"

Dick's eyes flicked to meet the tired blue of the boy he was tending to, stricken by the question. How could his little brother even think…?

"Timmy, you're one of us! We'd never hurt you!" He shook his head, dismayed. "We freed you from the demon possessing you. Ra's would have used it to control you or threaten us." But Tim's eyelids were sliding shut again, brief spark guttering back out, and Dick couldn't bear it anymore. Bruce had wanted to keep the boy restrained until they were sure the demon was gone and wouldn't be attacking anyone again, but Tim didn't look to be a threat anytime soon, and Dick just couldn't leave him like that. Snapping the rest of the cuffs impatiently, he dragged his little brother into his arms, tucking Tim's head under his chin, and just holding him there. Because if he could just hold onto Tim, he was sure he wouldn't lose him.

He was still sitting there when faint footsteps came up behind them.

"Just couldn't leave him alone, could you?" Jason was back. The man had hardly left Tim's side anymore than Dick. Bruce had checked in, but Dick suspected the man felt a large brunt of the responsibility—for agreeing to let Tim fight Ra's alone, for losing him, for not finding him first in the chaos that followed—and was burying himself in work again. Not that anyone blamed him. They'd all searched for the boy. They'd all failed just as equally. Ra's had simply had greater resources.

"The demon hardly let me touch him last time," Dick replied, and they shared an angry look over Tim's head. "Besides, the cuffs were hurting him." Jason rested a hand on Tim's forehead.

"He feels cooler now at least."

"I think it's almost over."

As if to prove him right, Tim's fingers tightened suddenly, scrabbling at Dick's shirt, and his eyes opened, chest heaving. Dick figured it out with about five seconds to spare and turned Tim's head over his knee just as the boy retched, bringing up a good portion of black bile. He heaved emptily for fifteen seconds while Dick rubbed his back, waiting patiently for the rest he knew was coming.

"That's right," Dick told him, when it came, leaving Tim gasping and shaking weakly, "get it out. You'll feel better."

When at last Tim was done, he slumped bonelessly, spent, and Dick gathered him back up, hopeful now that the ordeal was passing. Jason looked relieved too, one corner of his mouth turned up as he tousled Tim's hair.

"That's the way, kiddo." He fell into the seat next to Dick, sharing the comfortable darkness while Tim slept.


It was the soft murmur of voices that broke through Tim's sleep-fogged consciousness first.

"Who knows what Ra's has filled his head with."

"What are we going to do if he won't stay with us?"

"It doesn't matter. We can't let—"

"Shh. He's waking up." Finger's sifted through his hair.

Tim gasped as he came to full awareness, curling in on himself, on the emptiness where the demon had been. It felt like part of his soul had been ripped away, felt like it had been cut out of him. He was colder than he had been in ages, shivering without that infernal heat keeping him warm.

As though they'd read his mind, a minute later there was a blanket wrapped around him.

"Timmy?" someone queried softly, but Tim wasn't ready to face them. He'd lost Ra's' gift. The thought brought hot tears prickling the corners of his eyes. For just a minute he allowed himself to wallow in that loss.

Ra's had slain the curse-carrier. The source. He'd saved everyone. What a disappointment Tim was in comparison. He'd walked right into the enemy's clutches, practically turning himself over willingly, and he'd lost the demon, the one thing that could have helped him get home. All things considered, he had no one to blame for the pain but himself. Still, as bad as the situation was, it didn't mean he was going to give up.

Sucking in a steadying breath, Tim sat up, one hand holding the blanket close, and met the closest worried gaze he found with his own steely resolve.

"Take me back," he demanded.

"No." That was Jason, farther back in the darkness. He stepped forward, arms crossed.

"Take me back. I want to go home. I want to see Ra's." The man was surely worried about him.

"That man's cage is not your home," the Detective growled, arms folded across his chest broodingly.

"Timmy," and that was Dick, hesitantly reaching out a hand as if to brace him against the coming words, "Ra's has been lying to you for years."

"He's an honorable man. Twice as honorable as you." Ra's had been right about them. They couldn't be trusted. None of them.

"He killed your parents!"

"It's not true." Tim shook his head vehemently. "He was too late to save them. He tried. He took me in."

"His demons tore them apart."

Lies. Lies. All of it. He wouldn't believe it. Wouldn't accept it. He wouldn't be so easily fooled a second time. Ra's was his home, the only home he could remember. The only one he could trust.

"You're just a sacrifice to him!" The way Jason's hands clenched, he looked about a half second from grabbing Tim by the shoulders and shaking him.

"He cares about me!" He did. The man wouldn't have tried so hard to protect him over the years if he hadn't. "He's done so much for this city, rebuilding practically from scratch."

"Ra's caused the destruction in the first place," Dick interceded, trying to keep the argument from becoming a shouting match, blue eyes worried, "using you to spread a curse that caused the death of millions."

"Ra's saved everyone! He slew the curse-carrier."

"Yeah, after he transferred the curse's source to the poor man in the first place." Jason's eyelids shadowed his eyes briefly. "He had his demons devour the man's soul."

"That's not how it happened." But he only knew what Ra's had told him. He hadn't been there. He had to look away, scowling angrily at the floor.

"Timmy, he's using you! Just like he used the curse you contracted." He didn't want to hear these things. Not from these monsters who'd tricked him, kidnapped him, and taken Ra's' gift away. It didn't make sense anyway.

"I never had the curse! I hadn't even been born then!" They shared a look at that, something frustrated and knowing.

"Tim, you were under a curse that recreated your physical body when you died. It was part of your plan. Don't you remember anything?"

"Take me back," Tim replied stubbornly.

"Tim…"

"Take me back." And he refused to answer any more questions, sticking to his demand until Jason stormed out, frustrated beyond reason, and Dick stood slowly to follow, sad eyes lingering on Tim before finally gliding after his brother. The Detective was the last to leave. He watched Tim for several minutes, expression inscrutable.

"I should have been there," he said at last, voice a quiet rumble. "I should have found you first." Then he too walked out.

Their absence was not the relief Tim had thought it would be though. In their wake, the room felt colder than ever.


Author Note: This feels so rushed to me, but it was asked how Ra's got Tim, and since part of that answer was in this chapter (and since every spare minute is spent writing WTAW and this wasn't getting any further no matter how long I held onto it) it just made more sense to post. My intent was to let Jason or Dick give Tim a more detailed version of events later when he was more receptive, but I have to be honest, I don't know if that'll ever get written now. I feel like this story needs to be reworked way back from ch. 2, and I just don't have the willpower to start that kind of project right now. (trying to decide what to do with this fic)