They were arguing now. Tim had woken up from his coma and seemed to slip back into it. He only got a glimpse of Leslie Thompkins' face when he woke up and heard some people make sounds of relief, the voices sounded familiar but he didn't listen long enough to place any of them. Now, he was asleep, but not comatose, in a sort of fugue state. He was aware of everything around him. But he couldn't wake up. Something seemed to be dragging him away from the world. Knitting needles clicking against one another. The knitting needles of his Grandma Drake from before his Dad had put her in a home years ago, when Tim was barely five. She had knitted him a sweater for his first Christmas, and despite being not even six months old yet, Tim distinctively recalled catching her knitting it and her not realising his capacity to remember it. Tim had an exceptional memory, hence why his memory of the Flying Graysons was so vivid even though he was only a toddler when he went to Haly's Circus. She'd made the sweater in red, green, yellow and black. John, Mary and Dick's colours. Robin's colours. One day, Grandma caught Tim talking to himself and had already noticed him fidgeting a lot. He felt embarrassed when she saw him and she merely rubbed his head and said, "If it helps you be happy, my little Robin, you be happy." She used to call him her little robin, because like the little birdy who hears and sees everything he was always in the room when his Mom and Dad argued and she used to take him away. "Now, Tim, my little Robin, you can't listen to that. Come on, Grandma's going to take you to the park." She told him that she was raised to believe as well that when a robin lands nearby it's someone you care for visiting from the afterlife, and that such a bird was special and a comfort to others. She always knitted him things even when she was in the home. He visited her more than his Mom or Dad ever did. When he had told her how he was a fan of Batman and Robin when he was five, she had knitted a pair of teddy bears, one Batman and the other Robin.

Even as he hit his teens and she thought he wouldn't appreciate the knitwear any longer Tim had insisted he loved it. She kept making things to reflect his new interests, even making a snug cover for his laptop when he had started getting into computers. He had told her he was Robin not long after he took up the mantle, because he trusted her more than his parents. Tim didn't know if she believed him. He liked to think she knew he would never lie to her, as he never had when she asked him what upset him. What did upset him was his Mom and Dad arguing. He had spent the whole day with his Grandma after the Obeah Man killed his Mom. He rarely talked about her with others. Since his parents rarely saw her, and his visits were largely done on his own volition, he liked to think she was a part of his life that was inviolable. Even though he hadn't cried when Bruce told him Stephanie was dead, he had in front of his grandmother. She told him how sad she'd felt when his grandfather died in the war. Her a young widow and his father only a newborn. Unlike Tim's father, she understood what it was like to be young and in love, only to have it snatched away from you due to things beyond your control.

He didn't attend his Dad's funeral because he wanted to make sure she was alright knowing her only child was gone, and Tim wanted the only family he had left to appreciate she was loved. He went to visit her after Conner died, and told her he was taking a year out but that he'd call her once a week if he could and promised presents and stories for his Grandma. She told him she would hold him to that. Grandma Drake died a week before Tim got back to Gotham. He didn't tell Bruce or Dick or anyone. He went to the funeral on his own. He paid for the headstone with the money his Dad had left him and visited it every week just as he had once visited her in the home. He didn't try and resurrect her because he liked to think she died happy knowing how strong he was in recovering from death. Tim actually was going to attempt suicide so he could be with his grandmother the night after he and Bruce stopped the Tally Man. But before he could do anything of the kind, Bruce showed him his new bedroom and told Tim he planned to adopt him. That changed everything. Tim had a family again. He visited his grandmother's grave that night and poured his heart out to it and felt happiness for the first time since Superboy's demise.

Now that he was close to death, Tim heard the sound of her knitting needles beckoning him to join her no more than the sound of Charon rowing his boat down the Styx might haunt a Greek of old. He had heard them the night he jumped off the roof months before. He had heard them whenever Ra's was drowning him. He heard them first the night Damian had beaten him up and declared himself Robin. He loved his Mom and Dad unconditionally, but he knew that if he was in the afterlife, his grandmother would be the first person he talked to. And he'd probably talk to her for all of eternity if such a place existed. It was only in death he heard them. What's the saying? 'There are no atheists in a foxhole'. Tim hadn't cared about God or dying at all when he was in danger, but he always heard the knitting needles whenever he came close to expiration.

And now they were arguing. His new family. He could make the voices out a bit better now. It had been a couple of hours since he had woken up and everyone had calmed down enough for his memory to put names to sounds. "You left us!" Dick shouted at someone Tim knew must have been Bruce. Bruce had left them. Vanished without a trace when Dick married Barbara. But then a voice he hadn't expected to be here at all rose up in his defence. "It's more complicated than that," Cassie Sandsmark pointed out. "Oh, is it?" Barbara butted in, "Because from where we are it seems like Bruce left us all on a stupid crusade that amounted to nothing. Except maybe resurrecting Darkseid. Great job." "I'm not going to defend myself," Bruce replied, "But you can't know how happy I am to see you all alive…Jim, Dick, Stephanie, Cass, Alfred, Jason. You're all alive without my help." "What are you talking about?" Dick butted in, "And why wasn't Barbara included in that sentence? Or, more importantly, Tim and Damian. They came closer to death than any of us, and they're still not out of the woods."

"Bruce, there's no justifying this," Barbara continued, "You abandoned us and now turn up out of the blue with the Teen Titans and a little girl saying she's your daughter who's far too old to possibly be who you say she is and expect us to accept that." "Secret daughter? You'll never catch me pulling that one," Dick said, tempting fate. "I don't expect you to accept anything!" Bruce shouted, "But to believe me that we need to coordinate with Diana and Arthur as soon as possible. Almost immediately. You said Batwoman's brought Flamebird and the Question to work with Black Lightning. This goes way beyond that. Thawne is going to destroy the world if we don't stop him." "I can't imagine that's high on his list of priorities," Barbara said, "Considering he's one of the most powerful men on the planet he probably just wants us super-powered types out of the way so he can rule the world." "That is what he wants. But we saw the future," Bruce sadly informed them, "He fails and brings many more good people down with him. Exponentially more. And the things he would have done to this family if…" He stopped. "Bruce, spit it out!" Dick shouted. "I think we should take this outside," Batman said coolly, "I know they're not awake but I don't think Tim or Damian should hear any of this. I'm calling a family meeting without them. Cassandra, you and the boys don't mind watching them while we're gone? Leslie said someone needs to stay by their sides at all times, particularly Tim."

"Of course, Bruce. You're right…they probably shouldn't hear a word of this."

Tim then heard footsteps and people leaving through a door. Then he felt a gentle but firm hand on his left one. He guessed that must be Conner's. "Great to see you, buddy," the voice of his best friend drifted down to him, "Shame it couldn't have been at a better time. Was waiting to tell you…Cass and I are engaged. We ended up in this weird place. A sort of commune after the apocalypse. We all kind of settled down there. It's gone now, but we were living together during it. And I asked her to marry me. We've gotten really serious." "As you can tell it's been a while," Cassie said as Tim could feel a gentler hand with longer nails on top of Conner's, "We mourned you then. Accepted we'd live there for the rest of time. Years after you died. Then things fell apart and now we're back home. Except it's too late…"

"Don't talk like that," a higher-pitched voice than Conner's said from Tim's other side as he felt a gloved hand rest on his right, "He'll make it." Bart was here too. Tim genuinely wondered if he'd already crossed over. The three of them were meant to be dead. Killed at Titans Tower. His three best friends in the whole world. And here they were talking to him as if they thought he was a goner. Tim could feel hot tears falling on his left hand. Cassie's. "Leslie says it doesn't look good. Not many people slip in and out of comas like this and expect to live." Bart and Conner's grips tightened a little. "It's probably not likely he'll make it to midnight," she said as he could hear her collapse in Conner's shoulder weeping. He imagined Superboy's other hand was stroking his fiancées hair to assuage her while he himself cried. Tim's left hand was drenched at this point. "So, what you're saying," Bart issued, "Is that this could be the last time we're with him alone?"

There was no reply, but Tim could almost make out a stifled 'Yeah' through his friend's tears. "Well then, Tim," Bart began, "You're the best friend a guy could ask for. Smart, funny and loyal. You always helped ground me when I was fooling around better than these two lovebirds ever could. Hell, even more than Max or Jay. You were a good example, and a fine young man. I still feel bad about the way I treated you and Cassie after Conner died. That was rough, and I was selfish. When we got stuck in time, I realised I'd never see you again. And that broke me as much as knowing I'd never see my grandparents or the twins again. You'd have been proud of me that day in Titans Tower. Nearly gave my life to save the whole team. Saved Conner. Rose and I are a thing now too by the way. It's really awesome. You probably wouldn't approve, but she makes me happy. She might be in to see you later, she's just busy helping Leslie with some of the wounded. I'll…I'll really miss you, man." Tim felt a hot kiss on his head. No doubt, Bart's. Then he heard him inhale deeply through snot as he raised his head, before he began crying himself.

"Oh, Tim," Cassie said rubbing her hand against her friend's cheek, "You are my brother, you know that. You and Bart. I love you both…about as much as Conner. And he feels the same. When I became leader of the team after you, both times, I did that out of respect for Robin, one of the finest men I've known. You are my best friend. We've always had each other's backs, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you that year after we lost Kon. We all love you. You're all as much my brothers as Donna and Diana are my sisters. I should have seen you were hurting, been there for you more this last while. It's a shame I nearly got killed by Deathstroke and swept away by time travellers before I could do anything about it. Excuses, I know, but I'm entitled to be an idiot. We're all still kids. I can't believe it's been more than eighteen months since we last saw you. We missed you, so much. You taught me to be a better leader, stronger than I could have hoped to become. If I ever have a son...I'd name him after you. I wish something special like that isn't in your memory, but it looks it. I hope you can hear all of this. So that when you go, you'll know how loved you are." Another kiss on his forehead was felt then. From Cassie. His sister-in-arms.

"My man," Conner said sniffling too, already in bits from Cassie and Bart's testimonies, "I don't know what I can say that can top either of those two. Cassie told me all about how desperate you were to bring me back. You didn't succeed, and I'm not half as smart as you, so…I can't promise I'll do any better on that front. I'll always hold your memory dear to me. We're always going to meet up, the three of us, and think of how you're not there when we do. Our team, you were the heart of it, man. I know you might think I was because of how when I went you all broke down, but that was more to do with your feelings man. You're my best friend, Tim. You're the one who found out about Luthor before me and kept my secret even when you shouldn't have because you respected me that much. Thanks to you, I knew I was loved by the rest of you. Now…know that you are when you go." Tim felt his arm being moved with a scrapbook in it. It must be the Young Justice Yearbook Cassie had kept. A book of memories for him to hold before his passing. Conner then laid a kiss on his forehead of goodbye, as hot and wet with sadness as the others had been. All Tim could hear after that for a while was either crying or silence. He thought they were only weeping or staying quiet out of respect for him. As the quiet drew on, the knitting needles and their clacking grew stronger. Then the door opened.

"Um, is it alright if I come in?" Stephanie Brown's voice spoke. "Of course," Cassie said as Tim could hear her walking in Steph's direction, "Are you okay?" "No," Steph said tearfully and Tim guessed she had probably collapsed in Wonder Girl's arms, "Leslie told me he's not gonna' make it. I'm never going to see him again. Never going to have him flirt with me awkwardly or get to rebuild what we had. It's all gone." "I know," Cassie said, "We're gonna' miss him too. I'm so sorry, Stephanie." Tim heard Conner and Bart get up then and assumed they must be having some sort of group hug. About half an hour of Steph joining them in their collective silence occurred then. The knitting needles were stronger once more. Tim actually thought he could hear his grandmother's voice. These people were lying to him. The Joker had shown him so. They were lying.

"You didn't say," Cassie said after a long period, "What he was like when you guys found him?" "Joker killed two random girls," Steph struggled through tears, "Made them look like Ariana and Zo. They're both fine...we kept tabs on people who'd be close to any of us with Black Lightning's help. But that freaking clown still did that...just to mess with his head. Make him feel like their deaths were his fault." "By Hera," Cassie said through bated breath. "Then he played all these recordings of him doing impressions of the family," Steph sighed, "Good ones to be fair…saying how we all hated him. The clown said he'd been doing it for a week. Tim's been hearing how we hate him for a whole week. That's why…Why he stabbed himself with the rusty scissors." "Oh no," Conner said, "He did this to himself?" "Yeah, he tried it months ago," Steph told him, "After Bruce gave out to him about going after Digger Harkness. Jumped off a roof. Would have died were it not for a random Man-Bat of Talia's passing by. That and look at his arms…Joker and Ra's didn't do that." "No," Bart admitted, before crying again. The silence resumed, but not for as long. Tim's descent to the underworld didn't intensify. They must have known he could hear them. They were lying when they said they thought he was in a coma. Lying why though? Because they wanted his brains. He'd only be good as a glorified assistant to Barbara for any of them from now on. The silence ended then.

"Is it alright…you guys," Steph reluctantly began, "If I spend a little while alone with him. You can come back later I just want to let off some steam." "Absolutely," Cassie replied and seemed to kiss Steph judging by the noise that was made, "We know how much you meant to one another. He could never shut up about you sometimes. You'll never be alone in this. Just call any of us if you want to talk about him." The sound of several footsteps slowly left the room as Tim felt a hand without a glove on it, a hand he had held so many times slip into his. He then felt a body lie in the bed beside him and hold him in their arms for a minute, as if they'd never hold him again. Tears streamed from Steph's face onto his neck. Her breathing was a bit laboured as her blubbering consumed her. Tim felt like crying himself but couldn't. All he could do was listen.

"I've missed you so much. It killed me knowing that clown had you. When Jason took me to the asylum, I was so anxious. Thought we'd find you dead. But I was so excited to think you might not be. When I saw you, I just felt sad…I still love you, Tim, you know that. I know I said it was more complicated. And it is, but not the way I meant it. I'd love to be your girlfriend again. I'd have loved to have another go after everything. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you I was alive. I don't even really get it myself. I guess I still kind of hated you for that Darla girl, even though you explained yourself so well. I just wanted something to be mad at, I didn't even talk to you. I know you love me, Tim…you just don't love yourself. And that can make loving other people really, really hard. I am going to miss you, and what we could have had so damn much. I really, really want you to wake up, but Leslie doesn't think you will. Says your spleen is probably too damaged. She can't know without an X-ray. My mom's okay, by the way. Made it out of town when the bombings started. She's with her sister in Hub City. I really want you and her to see each other again. I was dreaming the other night about what if I'd kept my little girl. I was thinking of calling her Debbie after you told me about your Grandma and how cool she was. You never let me meet her, but that's okay. I knew nothing about you but you told me all about Grandma Debbie. You probably would have been the closest thing she had to a father, so it's not beyond belief to respect your grandmother in naming her. Alvin Draper…Ha! You'd have been a great dad. To her and to…who knows others. If I ever see her again, I'm going to tell her all about you. Tell her you weren't her father, but I saw your eyes through that mask the night she was born. You loved her as much as I did. And I'm sure you'd have loved whatever sprogs Dick and Barbara have. Uncle Tim! The coolest uncle of all! He kicks ass and is smarter than Einstein. My ideal man. My first boyfriend was such an ass, and then I'm going out with Robin. Then it turns out Robin is this smart, funny and handsome guy who isn't perfect but I still can't believe he'd go out with someone like me. Heh. What could have been, eh?"

Footsteps entered the room. "Stephanie?" Steph jumped up from the bed and composed herself. "Leslie," she blurted out in surprise, "Hey, sorry." "Don't apologise," was the calm, maternal reply, "I know he means a lot to you. And I'm sorry." "Thank you," was the sniffling reply, "Who's this little one?" "I'm Debbie," a sweet little voice said. "Aw, you've got the cutest brown hair," Steph seemed to perk up a little, "Why's she in here? Don't tell me she's Tim's love child you've just found out of the blue." "No, Steph," Leslie said inhaling deeply, "Not quite. I really should have told you this weeks ago. When I…when I killed you…I looked up your child. A family named Black adopted her from Bleake Island. She's lived in Gotham this whole time. Recently, Debbie here came to us after her parents were killed by the Mutants. Then when we were escaping last night, Two-Face nearly shot her. And the young Russian girl, Scarlet saved her. I knew then I should have told you when you first came here, because I would never forgive myself if anything had happened. This, Stephanie, is Deborah Black. She's your daughter."

Tim could hear nothing for the next two minutes until the little girl spoke and said, "Are you really my mommy?" "I…I guess I am," Steph replied in shock. "You're really pretty," the child said, "Is he my daddy?" "No," Steph stumbled, regaining her composure, "But he should have been. Let me…let me show you to him. His name's Tim." Tim could feel the smallest of hands, a hand he had once held when it had just been born touch his face. "When you were born," Steph informed Debbie, "Tim here held you in his arms. He loved you, and he'd be happy to know you're with me here when I…when I…" The emotion overwhelmed Stephanie then. Tim wanted to wake up and hold her but he knew the knitting needles were still drawing him in. "It's okay, Stephanie," Leslie reassured Batgirl, "I know this isn't the easiest time but I should have told you who she was. She needs her mother after everything with Dent." "Thank you, Leslie," Steph managed through her tears, "You're amazing, you know that." "Not half as amazing as you are," the good doctor replied, "Batgirl."

"My mommy's Batgirl. That's awesome!"

"Ha! You bet it is champ!"

Eventually, Stephanie and Debbie left, as Leslie wasn't comfortable with the child being around Tim so much with the condition he was in. And the clacking started again. He didn't want to die as much now, but he still did. He loved Stephanie and that girl. But Steph was lying when she said he was too good for her. He wasn't and never could be. He was a terrible person. A person they all hated. Steph didn't want him to die because she saw him as a piece of meat. Like the others she must have known he could hear them, and just wanted him to give in. That's what a voice in his head said. The voice of the Joker. It seemed to come before the knitting needles telling him these things. He was probably right, of course.

"Poor Tim," the voice of Cissie King-Jones said to Leslie after a while, "He was always a lovely guy. Haven't seen him in so long and it's a shame it's only now I'm really getting to do that. Gonna' miss you, big guy. You're one of the few people who believed I could be a superhero when I didn't. Well, I believe in you, Red Robin." She didn't say much apart from that. Later on, Cass was there too and she just said, "I love you, big brother," before kissing his forehead and hugging him tightly to herself for a good half an hour. Leslie was there both times. She seemed to have nodded off when the next person came in to see him. "I'll take care of him from here, Les," Jason Todd told her. "But Jason I need to," she began. "Take a coffee break, you've been here for hours," he kindly interrupted, "I'll call you if he changes." "No, but," Leslie stumbled to offer condolences, "That girl, Scarlet. I'm so sorry." "Me too, Les," Jason sighed with a deep sadness, "I'm happy knowing she died saving Steph's kid though. Her dying was a lot less pointless than mine. I'd love to put a hole in Dent's head…but right now I just don't see the point." "I know," Leslie said. She left not long after that and Jason seemed to be to Tim's left now.

"Well, Timbers…you and I are going to be in a very exclusive club soon. I'm in it and so's Steph. Dead Robins Club. We were just talking about it earlier. She and I are the only Robins to die. Now you too. Still she doesn't know what it's like to have that clown get his claws into you. To feel helpless knowing he's one step away from ending you. I don't even know why I'm saying this. I've wanted to be part of the family again for a while now. I realised beating the shit out of you then dressing up as Dick and killing crooks in New York wasn't a great way to go about that. Donna and Kyle got me a bit on the straight and narrow. My hatred of you…it was petty and stupid. I would have loved to have had you as a little brother. I'll never forgive myself for attacking you like I did. Especially now I know I'm never really gonna' get the chance to apologise for it. One good thing is though…they all seem to like me again. And if anyone speaks bad of me, Steph or Cass put them in their place. Even Dick's speaking to me again. It's actually nice. Shame losing you had to be part of that deal. I swear, man, I'm going to make things up to you from now on. Every time I take down a crook with the fam, I'm doing it in your name. I'm tired of using my death as an excuse to be a bad guy. From now on…I'm going to let my brother's death be my excuse to be a good guy."

Jason didn't speak again after that. Not long after Leslie came back and the knitting needles continued. Why would Jason want to be nice to him though? He had no rhyme or reason, and the way he put it Tim dying might be better for him overall. Maybe then it was good that Tim died. He could substitute one of the Joker's crimes against their family for another and give Jason the redemption he deserved. That actually made Tim a little happy, asthe knitting needles seemed to reach a crescendo and he heard his grandmother say, "My little Robin." Leslie must have been asleep now as Tim could hear snoring. But he felt pressure on the duvet in front of him. The pressure of a grown woman pouncing. "Damn, kid. You were always my favourite Robin," Selina Kyle said calmly, "I'd have come earlier but…I've lost someone else too. And now I have a daughter. A teenage daughter. It's weird. She seems a little afraid of you, but I talked her down. Helena, say hello to your big brother, Tim."

"Hello," an unfamiliar and sweet voice said to him, "I…remember you playing with me when I was little. This would only be, I don't know, over a year ago for you. You were one of the first men in my life to really be nice, since I only really knew Mom and Aunt Holly then. You seemed to long for something…like you wanted to be a dad or have a little brother or sister yourself. I get that too. I always wanted family, especially…ah it's too complicated my life. You wouldn't want to know. Just know I'll be there for our family when you're gone. Something they've gained even though you won't be there anymore. My mom tells me I should say this to you because…because…"

"He doesn't need to know, darling. He acts like he can't hear us, but…that kid's even cleverer than your old man. He's worked out a way to be conscious without us knowing. And that's the saddest thing about this. He's not going to think of something to save himself…"

Selina was righter than she could know. Tim wasn't dying except by choice, nor was he in a coma. Tim had no spleen. It had been removed a year ago after an accident in the desert involving the League of Assassins. They had performed emergency surgery on him and excised it. There's no way his wound could have killed him other than through blood loss. He was clever enough, like Bruce, to make himself appear unconscious when he was perfectly conscious. And he'd been to Thogal with Bruce two years before. He knew how to kill himself psychosomatically. A rare talent. Bruce would be proud. If he had actually come to visit him. But why didn't Tim immediately initiate his death? Why did he listen to all these people pouring their hearts out to him? Well, in a morbid way, Tim had always been curious about attending his own funeral. At funerals, the outpourings of grief tend to present the deceased as without flaw. He thought something like this, solitary confessions at one's deathbed, would be worth hearing more than that. He wasn't dying until he heard all the people he wanted to hear speak. And there was one person he dreaded hearing yet knew he would be the last one he'd hear and looked forward to it. The one he knew might make him change his mind with a few, simple words. His father's voice. Bruce Wayne's.

"Hey pal," Barbara Gordon said slowly but surely, breathing in deeply, "Sorry I didn't come see you earlier. It's been hard…you know…rebuilding a civilisation. We've all been so worried about you. Before the Joker and everything too. Oh, Tim…You don't know how loved you are. Dick hasn't shut up about you. He's scared to come see you because he doesn't want to say goodbye. Me, I learned a long time ago we can't put these things off. Shame I married an idiot. Oh, I don't mean that. He's a genius really. A lot like you. Still used to love all those twists and turns we got into; you, Bruce, Dick, me and Cass and all the others. Fun times. Never thought I'd be the one to bury you, Tim. Then again no one thought that about Jason either. Dick and I have been talking about starting a family. I think the one thing he's going to miss the most is the fact that you're not going to be their cool uncle. You're so good with kids, Tim. I saw you with Helena when she was little, and everything you did for Steph's girl. That's breaking her heart more than you dying. That you're not going to be there for Debbie to know. And your friends from the Titans are inconsolable. You've impacted so many of our lives, Tim, for the better. It's not hard for some of us to want our kids to know you. I know I shouldn't say this but…you're my Robin. Dick was great and all, but at the time in my life when I felt the strongest, the most in control…you were Robin. Dick is great as Nightwing and I love him with all my heart. But you're my Robin. I hope you love and know that. I'll miss you. And I love you…little bro."

"Master Timothy," Alfred began not long after Barbara had gone, "It's always been hard for me looking after you lads and Master Bruce. It has been weighing on me for some time how you have been feeling. You always act as if you are strong, and that is to be commended. I always like to make sure the rest of you are doing fine in your own lives, because I know Master Bruce's is a sham through and through. I followed you a few nights…to the cemetery. You never told us about your grandmother, Sir. I suppose we should have known. And I'm very sorry. Every time I took a look at you then, I just thought to myself, 'He is so strong. Stronger than any man his age.' And you never disavowed me of that notion, young sir, until I heard from Master Richard what Miss Stephanie had told him recently. I should have seen the signs. Depression. I had it myself after my relationship with Marie broke down. She was going to have my child. I never told Master Bruce that. He was only a young boy who'd just lost his mother and father and I wasn't going to let him think I'd abandon him for a child whose mother didn't want to know about me. I always meant to look into her, but I've had to take care of you lot. Still it consumed me. That black dog. Especially when Master Bruce left for college. I began taking long walks on my own in the dead of night. Down Crime Alley. I wondered whether I would have any purpose, and sometimes dreadfully thought I'd be happier if Master Bruce had been killed as well. And for that, I grew to hate myself. Leslie saw the signs in me and got me on medication. I saw it in Master Bruce as well later on, but I think his drive and rage have made him cope with it. Suppress the depression so to speak. The Batman is and always has been my boy's coping mechanism. Just as I suppose your duties to our family have been yours. If I had recognised the signs and been there for him, maybe things could have been better. Much better. Though then again, if the Batman had never existed, there are so many remarkable people I would never have known and loved. So many blessings come in disguise as tragedy. I like to think that though last night may cost us you…which seems very likely from what Leslie has said…it has done some good. Master Bruce is back with us, he has gained a fine young woman as a child, Miss Stephanie is reunited with her little one and for the first time in years I got to hug Master Jason again. None of this could have happened without you keeping this family together after he died. Thank you, Master Timothy. I shall miss you greatly. It has been my privilege to care for such a noble young fellow."

An hour later, the sound of movement came from the bed beside Tim. He heard crutches being put in place and someone moving towards him. "Hello, Drake," Damian responded weakly, "It is odd we have both ended up in this position. My injuries far graver than yours, yet you are the one terminally ill. The clown must have broken you. For that, I am sorry. I hope the family remember you. Loathe as I am to admit it, I've always respected you. You're strong like Father, and dare I say it…a better detective than I am. Your friends always compare me to you at the Titans. I never liked that. Which is part of the reason why I've never really liked you. To be fair, I have been an ass to you…Tim. I apologise. You are just as much my brother as Grayson is. I'll always like him more than you, but I will miss you and think of you when fighting crime. I will insist Father replace Todd's pointless memorial with one for you if we ever recover the cave. I can't believe I'm the one target Deadshot had who he missed. And I hear Father had a child with the cat lady. And she's older than me…Hmm. Can't this family have anyone my age around? Anyway, good night, Drake. I'll miss you if you choose to give up. If not, then I'll go back to giving you hell. Glad we could have this talk."

The next person to come to Tim's bedside was someone who couldn't stop crying. Someone he'd been waiting for, for a while. "Hey kid," Dick Grayson said through his tears, "Looks like this is the last time we'll have one of our talks. You wonderful guy. You made me believe in Batman again. I hated him so much. As far as I was concerned, the Titans were now my life. Then you came along and made me think maybe Bruce isn't a complete asshole again. You convinced me to be Batman after we dealt with Jean-Paul. For a little while, you were my Robin. I still can't apologise enough for choosing Damian over you. I just thought he needed me more. I was wrong, really wrong. You're broken, Tim. And I should have been there for you. It's hard for me to juggle all your wellbeings. I feel like I've taken more from Alfred than Bruce when it comes to looking after you guys. I adore you, little bro. And nothing breaks my heart more than knowing any kids of mine aren't going to have an uncle who's as great as you. You never told me about this problem of yours. Of hurting yourself. Of thinking we hated you. I love you, Tim Drake. There's something I never told you either. Shit, I haven't even told Babs. I…was raped. Back when I was training Tarantula in Bludhaven. I was seeing Babs at the time but she was really into me. I had a mental breakdown when she killed this guy. She just got on top of me and…yeah, I don't think I need to say the rest. It broke me for a while but I learned to bury it for the rest of you. Because like you I thought it best to pretend I was strong. And I have come to terms with it, but…I've always wanted to tell someone. And I am going to tell Barbara. I just wanted to say it to someone…someone I'm never going to see again first." For a good twenty minutes, Dick held tightly to Tim's dying and unconscious form. His tears sopped into Tim's clothes. Eventually, Dick let go and kissed his brother on the forehead before leaving, howling loudly and inconsolably.

"Bet you were wondering when I'd come?" Bruce Wayne said, characteristically coldly, "They're expecting me to call them all in for when you go. So, we can all be here. Leslie says we can't know, but I say I can. I know you've been waiting for me to have my little outpouring of my feelings to you, Tim. Selina and Damian were the only other ones who figured it out. Don't take this as a judgement. I imagine if I had been in your situation, I would have done exactly the same thing. But you're not me, Tim. No one should be me. When I became Batman that was part of a promise I made on my mother and father's graves. I swore that no one would have to suffer like me on my watch. They have because I'm not God…but that doesn't mean I approve when the people I love self-inflict that kind of harm. I know you haven't got a lot longer left Tim, so I'm going to skip my disapproval. You knew me at the worst possible time in my life. You knew me after Jason died. And I never really recovered from that. But I like to think you softened everything else, like Dick did before. You're an amazing young man, Tim. And I'm sorry for what I said to you when you went after Digger Harkness. I was a hypocrite. I went after Joe Chill in a similar manner and Dick did the same with Tony Zucco. We didn't kill them, but we wanted to. My anger at you was more that…I expected you to be better. You were my best Robin, and if you had been older…I think you would have made a much better Batman than Dick. Losing you will break me but like with Bane I'll get back up. And I think something much worse happening to you already has. Just know that when we've…buried you. We'll continue the fight and come out the other end. And I'm going to let Dick and Barbara's children know all about Tim Drake, and how amazing he was. And Stephanie and her little girl will want for nothing. You can choose to die if you want, Tim. Just know that you are my son, and I love you. Even when I felt like you failed me, I still loved you. And I always will."

That wasn't good enough. Bruce knew Tim could hear him. He was right. Bruce must have told everyone else. Got them to lie so they could keep Tim's brilliance. But why would they make up something like Steph finding her kid? Or Conner, Cassie and Bart being alive? He's Batman. He's done worse things than that before. And to you. Screw him. Death is better. The sound of knitting needles is so much more welcoming than that gravelly judgemental voice of doom and gloom. "Who are you?" Tim said to the thing talking behind him, "Because you're not the Joker. The Joker can't be in my head. I'm clear of the toxin. He never gave me a double dose. You're something else, aren't you?" Tim turned around to see himself. Wearing a Batman outfit. His future self. The one he swore he would never become. "I'm you, Tim," the interloper in his thoughts answered, "I'm the you who you know can't come to be. I'm the reason you want to die. Not because of who you are now or any of your failings. Because you know that if you carry on, you'll become me. I can't say I approve, but I'm here to remind you that that's why you need to go. Go be with our grandmother. Stop your heart permanently. You know how. Just let go. They might think they want you, even if they are lying, but they'll regret having you back. Especially when you get older and become me." "Maybe you're right," Tim sighed in surrender. "Of course, I'm right," the future Batman answered coolly, "I know you better than anyone else. Time to die, Timothy. Just let go."

Tim seemed to be about to release himself when he heard the knitting needles again. "Am I finally gone?" he asked the void once more. "No, my little Robin you're not gone," came a warm, elderly and feminine voice, "Look at you, all grown up and even more handsome with a whole new family. I'm so glad you found other people to love you now I'm gone." Tim turned, seeing his future self wasn't there anymore. His grandmother was sitting in her chair knitting what appeared to be a sweater in the form of his Red Robin costume. "Grandma!" Tim shouted in glee as he ran over and hugged her, "But if I'm not dead, then how am I seeing you?" "Because Tim, my boy, the people we love never really die," she pinched his cheek warmly, "Not as long as we remember them. And since you just saw the part of yourself who thinks you should die, then you're going to meet the part of you who thinks you should live. Call it an even debate." "So, my lust for life comes in the form of my elderly grandmother knitting a sweater?" Tim laughed. "Not just any sweater my little Robin," she put a hand on his cheek, "Yours. From me. Something someone who loved for you did for you. Just like how you helped that Stephanie girl out with her pregnancy like you told me. Or how you went away with that Bruce Wayne man and left me because you knew he needed you more than I did."

"I've never forgiven myself for that. I wasn't with you when you passed. You hadn't seen Cousin Eileen in years, but she was at your side when I couldn't be, for God's sake."

"Don't worry about it, Tim. I was happy you were coping with everything. I died thinking of how proud I was of you. There was no one I could stop talking about to anyone who'd listen. My grandson. I didn't tell them you were Robin, don't worry. But you did good by your girlfriend when she was in dire straits, you've saved so many lives as Robin…including Batman's…You couldn't make me prouder if you had cured cancer, Tim."

"I did those things because I had to, Grandma. I helped Steph because she needed someone and I cared about her. The same for Bruce."

"And yet there are many people who wouldn't. Many people like the boy who fathered her child. Or her own father. Or all the monsters you and that Batman have fought. I remember you telling me as a youngster you had figured out, he was Bruce Wayne. So, clever, even then."

"Being better than scumbags and supervillains isn't a great criterion, Grandma."

"Isn't it? They're people too, Tim. Just because they've done bad things doesn't raise you to a higher standard than them in terms of being a human. Yes, you hold yourself to it, and rightly so, but you've taken that too far, Tim. You've started comparing yourself to…forgive me but I am part of your brain so you've always known this…someone not entirely dissimilar to a sociopath. Batman is a good man and brilliant. But you once told yourself you didn't want to be entirely like him, just in the parts you thought mattered. As you kept losing people, that got blurred, because naturally having a brain not unlike his you developed the same problems he did when you lost someone. You became self-loathing because of all the lives you've saved but still failing to save someone you love. You poor thing. You can never let those deaths be your fault, no more than anyone who slipped from your fingers as Robin. Your father didn't die because of you either. You're not God, Tim, no matter how much you may think it deep down."

"I don't think I'm—"

"You do. Everyone does. It's natural. We all think we're the centre of the universe. Especially people who don't like themselves. We think everyone hates us because we're not living up to that."

"You don't like yourself, Grandma?"

"Tim, the reason your Dad and I didn't get on…and I think you figured this out yourself…was because I hated myself for his father dying. I lost my husband and that broke me. I blamed myself. And because of that I failed as a mother. Jack struggled with relationships as a result, which was why he married your mother so late in life. She was a glamorous, younger woman who was happy to be with a successful man who could make her comfortable while she pursued her career. You know this yourself, Tim, your parents weren't happy. That was why it took them so long to have you. You were an attempt at building bridges. Not a relationship of equals, like mine and his father, or…well any of the women you've been with really, more or less. I've always blamed myself or your father not being a good partner or a good father. So, I made up for that by going out of my way to be kind to you. My only grandchild. It doesn't mean I forgave myself for letting Jack down like that."

"He loved you so much, Grandma."

"Of course, he did. I was the only person in his life for a long time. Your grandfather's first marriage had failed and his kids wouldn't speak to him. Or me after he died. So, Jack loved me as much as I did him. It was us against the world. But he resented me for not being perfect. That's why he forgot about me when you didn't. Always talked about me like I was dead. And I outlived him. But you owe it to me and Jack to love yourself. Make something good out of all the tragedy we had. When Charles died, I felt empty, and when your mother died Jack tried to move on with Dana. He only then started to care about you, and you know it. It's okay to not feel happy, Tim. But you have a family who love and depend on you. And that version of you, you just spoke to…he is not and will never be you. My grandson is kind. My grandson will always do good by the people he loves. And I like to think my memory will help him do that. But more importantly I hope his new family have the same effect."

Grandma Drake had stopped knitting. "Debbie Drake, you're a fine woman," Tim smiled as he kissed his grandmother on the forehead, "I shall miss you terribly." "No, you won't," she placed a warm hand on his chest which he held, "I'll be right here, Tim. Always telling you what best to do. Now go back to your family. And forgive yourself." Her grandson inhaled deeply at the thought. Yes, he would accept himself, for all his flaws, or at least try. And he would take what everyone had told him to heart. They did love him. The Joker was wrong. His future self was wrong. He was wrong. After how he'd treated people who loved him like Stephanie and the Titans by abandoning them, they still cared for and stood by him. And he'd always known Bruce didn't hate him. He'd find it hard to accept his criticism knowing what a hypocrite he'd been, but he'd learn to re-establish their love and become part of the family once more. And with that he uttered "Thanks, Grandma," aloud.

"Did he just say something?" Dick asked. "Seems like it," Leslie answered, as Tim felt vision again for the first time in a while when a light shined in his eye, "Pupils are responding. Life signs normalising. He's going to be okay!" Tim opened both his eyes and saw everyone crying. Genuinely crying with joy that he was alive. Dick, Steph and Cass started fighting over who was going to hug him first. Conner was happily crying tears of joy into his girlfriend's bosom while Cassie smiled so happily through her tears. Bart and Rose were likewise crying in the same manner, only reversed. Bruce just smiled as he held a tearful Helena close to him. "How long was I out?" Tim asked Leslie. "26 hours since Jason brought you here," she nodded, delighted he'd pulled through, "You're lucky to have a guardian angel in him." Tim then raised his hand to beckon Dick, Steph and Cass away from their simultaneous hug. "I think Jason owes me a hug too, "he quipped, "Especially since I've made him part of the family again." Everyone seemed to blush then, realising Tim had been cognizant of their little confessions, except Bruce who smirked in appreciation of his son's indomitable will.

"And if you do have a son, Cass, he better be Tim Kent," he pointed at Conner and Cassie who laughed through tears as they went up and hugged him. Bart and Rose had to join in then too. Tim nodded to allow everyone in the room to pile on. Even Leslie did. Tim was happy again. For the first time in so many years, he knew that the people who had hurt him were wrong. Including himself. He was loved and appreciated by those he cared about. When everyone had stopped crowding around him, he turned and looked at Steph. "Now," he said slowly, "I hope there's someone here I've been meaning to see again for a few years now." "Yeah," Steph stroked his face affectionately, in disbelief he was alive, "She's a bit sleepy, but I wanted her to be with you now." She removed her hand and pulled a little, brown-haired girl in pyjamas rubbing her eyes up towards Tim . "Give him a hug, Debs," she said through some tears. "You're Tim?" the girl asked, her mother's blue eyes baring into Tim's soul." That's right," he smiled. "Mom says you're not my real daddy but that you love me," was the sweet and innocent reply. "More than you'll ever know," he said, fighting back tears of his own, "Come here." Tim and Debbie had the loveliest little hug as the whole room continued to weep, even Damian, at how overjoyed they were to know that Tim Drake was alive.