Premier Building, Los Angeles

March 29, 6:48 PST

The sun was just breaking over the horizon of when Tim finally took off his mask. He nearly groaned with relief as the sweaty fabric pulled stickily away from his skin, his eyes blinking as they adjusted to the sunlight.

God, he needed sleep.

The night before with the Outsiders had been a doozy but fulfilling, having put away one of the straggling meta-teen trafficking sites on some no name island somewhere in the pacific. It had still been dark there when Cyborg had boom-tubed them back to The Outsiders headquarters. Tim would have thought that he'd have gotten used to the sudden change in time zones in the five years that he'd been using the damned things. He was wrong.

"Get some sleep, team," Cassie's own tired voice broke out over the murmurs of irritable teenagers who were simultaneously amped up from a good night of fights, but also exhausted from them as well. It never made for a good combination and Tim was eager to get out of there before the bitching started. He made his way for the door as others split up between the HQ's own zeta tube and stairs.

"Tim, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Shit. Tim sighed as he pulled his worn red hoodie over his head. Steeling himself, he turned around to face the imposing force that was his ex-girlfriend and current team leader.

"Yeah, sure," he answered as he approached her.

Cassie was, in a single word, gorgeous. Her long blond hair was pulled back by a simple black headband and fell over her shoulder, effortlessly perfect. She was still wearing the Wonder Girl uniform which comprised of a sleek black vest and red leggings. Her hands were crossed across her chest, her silver gauntlets shimmery and shining in the morning light.

Tim took a moment to eye her stance. Though her arms were crossed, which was usually her angry tell, her hips were off kilter, which wasn't. That was a relief. When Cassie was really angry, she didn't sport a casual pose like this. She always stood erect, back straight and commanding. The amount of times Tim had seen her that way was countless. However, at least in recent months it wasn't usually directed at him.

Usually.

Still, he approached cautiously, unsure what he'd done to warrant a talking to following a relatively successful mission. Sure, there were some hiccups, but when wasn't there? He'd led his team comprised of Tarra, Livewire, and Cyborg easily and their team dynamic had been great. They were always an easy group to lead, even with Livewire's occasional hot headedness.

"What's up?" He asked, closer now.

"Ah, nothing. I just…" Cassie's eyes darted across the room to the lingering teens leaving through the z-tube and the ones upstairs now closing the doors to their rooms. Once she was sure everyone was gone, she turned her attention back to Tim, her eyebrows pinched. "Sorry. Not nothing. I just wanted to check in and see if you were okay?"

Ah. So that's what this was about.

"I'm fine," Tim grimaced, the words sounded like a lie on his tongue. "I mean, I'm not fine. But I'm as good as can be expected… given everything."

He didn't look Cassie in the eye. He couldn't. Tim knew that if he did, Cassie would be able to tell that he was the furthest thing from fine. She'd always been able to read him like an open book. It was partly why he'd needed to avoid her during the final months of their relationship, a decision that had cost him dearly.

"Tim," Cassie clasped her hand on his bicep. It wasn't a romantic gesture, just a comforting one between two people who'd known each other better than anyone at least at one point in their lives. Maybe in another timeline they could have stayed together, could have worked past their differences and have been happy together.

But maybe in that timeline Tim would have broken them too.

"Tim, I'm worried about you. You knew Connor longer than any of us, and…" Cassie's eyes watered before she blinked them away, "I mean, I've been having a hard time. So I'd imagine what you're feeling is worse, I mean… you've experienced a lot of loss recently and—"

"Cassie," Tim cut her off. He couldn't do this conversation. Not today. He reached up and gave her hand a friendly squeeze before taking it off his arm. Cassie answered silently by dropping her hands to her sides. She was used to being shut out by him by now. It was something that Tim knew she'd never really forgiven him for, and probably never would.

"I'll be okay. I will be," he reiterated to her disbelieving stare, "I just… really appreciate you letting me join on the mission today. I needed it."

Cassie sighed, "We all did."

The two of them stood silently for a moment, neither really wanting to say what was on their minds. It was a habit that they'd gotten into during the dying months of their relationship.

Tim finally looked up at her. Cassie's eyebrows were still pinched as she kept her eyes fixed on the fading sunrise. Her fingers twitched nervously at her sides. She was hurting, he could see that. He just wasn't the one anymore who could help her. He didn't have a right to.

"I should go," he finally broke the silence.

Cassie's head whipped towards him, "Yeah? Yeah," she said as she met his eyes for the briefest moment. "Just promise me that you'll talk to someone if you need it, Tim. Okay?"

She looked so beautiful in that moment. With the morning sunlight hugging her frame like a halo, her blue eyes piercing as she stared after him. Tim knew then that he'd always love Cassie, with her kindness, her compassion, her fire.

He just wasn't allowed to love her in the way he'd known anymore.

Tim gave her a stiff smile before walking out the HQ apartment's doors.

The morning was still chilly when Tim made it out of the massive apartment complex and stepped outside. Overhead, fluffy white clouds heralded a coming sunny day. Small birds sang little songs in the trees. Cars honked intermittently on their morning commutes.

Tim wanted no part of it.

He'd already changed into his plain clothes at HQ and was now sporting his hoodie with basketball shorts. He fingered at the pocket of his shorts, looking for his earbuds. Not finding their familiar bump he figured he must have left them home when he'd received the call for the mission.

Tim sighed as he pulled the hood over his head and fisted his hands in the large front pocket. He had to be careful or else he'd accidentally poke a hole through the seam, a seam that he'd already needed to stich back together… twice.

Slowly he slung his large duffle over his shoulder started walking the fifteen blocks to his apartment.

When Tim had turned eighteen nearly a year ago, he had requested moving out of the Outsiders HQ. It never really felt like his home anyways considering he'd joined late. And honestly, he didn't want to be a crowd in Cassie's space. Batman had offered him a place in Gotham but Tim declined. For him, home had always been Mount Justice with Dick, M'gann, Gar, Zatanna, Rocket, Artemis, and Wally… and Connor… and…

And.

In a nervous gesture, Tim dipped his chin forward and pulled one of the tassels of his hoodie into his mouth. It was a disgusting habit and one that he'd been trying to break for years. Dick always said it was surprising given what a neat freak Tim was. But Tim just figured this was his one vice.

He was allowed one, right?

Eyes staring at his shoes as he walked, Tim kicked at the ground.

Fuck. This sucked.

Tim hadn't expected Dick's visit a week ago, when he had opened the door and the older man walked in with his head held low, fists in pockets. But Tim had been through the drill before. He knew that look on Dick's face more than he cared to.

"Who is it this time?" He'd asked.

And of course, it was Connor. Conner who in his short ten years of life had become the best of them. Connor who'd been like an older brother to Tim, cared for him, mourned with him when one by one their comrades fell. Sure, Dick was like a sibling to Tim too. But Tim could never really get past that all-consuming desire to always make Dick proud of him, and sometimes that got in the way of their relationship.

Connor though, he was safe… and now he was gone.

"Fuck," Tim hissed again, much to the chagrin of the mother walking her children to school beside him. She shot him a pointedly fierce glare.

"Sorry," Tim lifted his hands in acquiescence, the tassel fell from between his teeth.

She scoffed as she tightened her grip on her children's arms, pulling them ahead. Tim squinted his eyes shut and tried to give his best smile when the younger of the two children turned her head and gave him a wave.

He waved back before his hands fell to his sides.

Christ. He needed to get it together. It wasn't like him to be so angsty and in his emotions like this. Maybe he could have been that way around Cassie, but never in public.

Tim was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the motorcycle pulling up next to him until it was too late. Merely a few feet away, it revved its engine loudly. Startled, Tim stumbled away from the road but quickly caught himself. He whipped around to tell the motorcyclist off. One of the children ahead started crying having been startled too.

But the motorcyclist was already peeling away, and all Tim caught of the figure was his dark cargo pants and a flash of a red hoodie pulled tightly over his head.

Fucking asshole. Tim seethed, at least silently this time. Today was shaping up to be a horrible day and Tim could not wait to get out of the sun and into his bed so that he could sleep the day away. That, at least, seemed safer than trying to brave the sunny April morning with his less than sunny attitude.

Finally, he reached the front steps of his door and buzzed in. Bruce had made sure that Tim was holed up in at least a decently safe spot before he'd allowed him to go out at it alone. Though the complex itself was dingy with flickering fluorescent lights and peeling paint chips that were more than likely toxic with lead, it sported multiple safety feature for its victims tenants.

After once again buzzing into the elevator, Tim slapped his fist against the 8 button and sturdied himself for the impending jostle of the elevator's ascent.

Tim couldn't get to his room fast enough when the elevator finally reached the top floor with a jolt. Less than 50 steps and he'd finally be able to flop into his glorious bed and the day would become a blip on his radar. His feet pounded against the floor as he walked down the dimly lit hallway to his door.

Fumbling with the keys in his pocket with his left hand, he placed his right thumb against the touch recognition pad on his door handle. Bruce had made him install it first day. He could be such a dad sometimes.

Keypad satisfied, the padlock now accepted the old and dingy key that was attached the jingling key chain that he pulled out of his pocket. He had to jiggle it just right for the door to open and…

At last.

Tim couldn't keep the relieved groan out of his voice as he tossed his old duffle bag with his suit and other necessities behind the door. He flipped his hood down and kicked his loose sneakers off neatly against the wall. Now comfortable, he stepped into the one butt kitchen that was immediately to the right of the threshold.

"Well hey there Fin," he smiled at the little red beta fish that swam up to the glass to greet him. When they had picked him out together, Cassie had told Tim that beta fish were as smart as dolphins and could learn tricks and their names and all that shit. Kaldur'an had been deeply offended by the implication so neither of them had ever brought it up again.

Still, Tim was partial to the feisty little red fish, which he'd been awarded during the separation of assets following his and Cassie's break up. She'd told him that he needed something to take care of. Tim wasn't sure if that was an insult or not.

Grabbing the brightly labeled fish food, Tim sprinkled the tiny flakes over the bowl, a gift that Fin eagerly devoured. Satisfied that Tim had given the little fish enough to sustain its life, but not too much that he'd inadvertently kill the thing, he turned around and padded out of the kitchen.

Shower, bed, food, Tim's mind ran through his list of priorities as he stepped through the small living room on the other side of the kitchen counter to pull the blinds closed over the door to his patio.

He stopped.

Barely noticeable, so small that it'd normally be missed, Tim saw a needle thin scratch mark against the doors latch.

Hairs raised on the back of Tim's scalp.

Really the patio couldn't even be called a patio. It was only one foot wide, just enough to raise the rent of his apartment by a considerable amount, not that it mattered, but not big enough to house more than a houseplant, as many of his neighbors opted for. It wasn't like it offered much in the way of access if someone wanted to break in and make off with his stuff. Much less the fact he was on the 8th floor…

Unless this wasn't just a break in.

Tim's body was electric with alarm, but he tried to soften his movements. He didn't want to tip off the intruder that he was aware of their presence. Stretching his arms behind him, Tim discretely pressed the panic button on the watch that Dick had gifted him when he was thirteen. Then, very casually, he made his way back to the duffle bag that was sitting at the front entrance.

He rummaged through his bag until his hands found what he was looking for. The cool surface of his retractable bow staff against his warm fingertips brought immediate comfort. Standing up straight, Tim silently deployed his weapon of choice. It made no sound as it did so. He and Dick had manufactured it so it wouldn't. Tim was thankful for it as the metal in his hand lengthened to nearly his own height.

Tim stepped through the hallway of his small apartment carefully. The bathroom directly opposite of the kitchen was likely too small to hide anyone. He checked it anyways, satisfied when he pulled back the freshly cleaned shower curtain and saw no one lurking behind it.

That meant that either the intruder had left… or they were in his bedroom.

Suddenly, the dimly lit apartment felt more ominous as he stepped silently over the shag beige carpet. He evened out his breathing as he approached his bedroom door that was slightly ajar. Steeling himself, he pushed it open with one hand as he gripped his staff at the ready in the other.

There, sitting in Tim's reading chair next to the bedroom window, was the form of a man. His black cargo clad knees were spread wide, and his feet sported thick combat boots. Aforementioned boots that were currently tracking mud all over Tim's books strewn all over the floor. In between his knees, the man's hands rested on the red hilt of a sword that was twirling menacingly and dug a hole into the carpet. A black fitted long sleeve with a sleeveless red hoodie overtop concealed the man's upper body, but Tim could already tell that he was bested in the brawn department. His face sported a red mask and black visor that glared at Tim with one red eye one the right, and three smaller red eyes on the left.

Sweat dipped down the back of Tim's neck and he gripped his staff tighter as the two men silently appraised each other.

Then, the other man spoke, and Tim's breathing stuttered.

"Well, if it isn't the infamous Tim Drake," the man leaned forward ominously, "What? No Robin getup today?"