Disclaimer: not mine
Chapter 3
"Ah!" Dami babbled, and Tim smiled.
"Good," he rasped. His voice had remained raspy, because he didn't talk much or was there something wrong? It didn't matter; he couldn't risk talking. If he talked then they would ask him things.
He tensed as someone tapped on the door, relaxing at the familiar pattern even as Damian squealed in delight. The door opened to allow Talia in. He knew he shouldn't trust her, she lived here, but…she was Dami's mother and she was nice. She didn't treat him like the others did. He knew it could be manipulation but her sole focus was protecting Damian…and so was his. Did it matter if her being nice was to manipulate him into doing something he was already doing? So, when her hand stroked through his hair, he leant into it.
He missed his own mother.
,
Bruce sat back in his chair, frowning. He always kept a distant watch on Ra's and Talia, even though it hurt. He had loved her, had truly believed she was ready to leave her father's influence…and she'd betrayed him. Something had changed over the last few years but he couldn't work out what. Movement patterns in and out of the bases had altered, Talia rarely seen, but here was enough evidence to prove she was alive. He honestly didn't know how he would react to her death. Whatever it was, it had to be long term given nothing big had happened yet. He just hoped they could deal with it.
,
Tim choked on his own blood, staggering back, the blade sunk deep in his abdomen. He felt himself being caught, the vague sounds of shouting. A bang…voices…everything was fading in and out. Cold…he was cold.
And then the burning green was back. Soon, he lay shivering on the stone floor.
"Breath Timothy," Talia's voice was calm but strong, and he latched onto it, following her breathing as everything came back to him.
He sat up, checking his stomach, the only sign of the wound his torn clothing.
"Are you well?" she asked, and he considered it before nodding.
Everything felt sharp, hyper-focused. The Pit? He carefully got to his feet, feeling a little lightheaded but there was no pain. He looked at her in confusion, what had happened? He signed the question. That training was not meant to be to lethal measures! And from the look on her face, that had not been in Ra's plan either. Someone had either slipped or disobeyed. He didn't want to be in his trainers place.
"Come, you will rest for the remainder of the day. Father is dealing with what happened. A meal will be brought to you soon."
Tim nodded, letting himself be led back to his room.
,
Ra's was satisfied with the boy's training. He would have preferred if he was quicker, but given his lack of speech, the theory was that even the Lazarus Waters could not fully restore his mind. He had not only been dead for a long period but he had been hit by a bomb and the scar on his face proved how close he had been to the blast. If he had survived the blast, he would likely have been little more than a breathing body. They had gotten a hold of the photos and autopsy results, if Timothy'd had one unbroken bone that would be a surprise. But his resurrection and the Pit had dealt with the shattered bones and organs.
Still, he was functional and still quite bright, learning faster than many recruits. He could and would be useful. And the baby was a useful tool to ensure he behaved.
And now it was time to test just how far his training had come. It was time for him to make his first kill. A hardened killer of children, best to ease the boy into such things. It would become easier with each kill he made.
,
Tim stared at the man in front of him, feeling the weight of the blade in his hand. He could feel Ra's eyes burning into his back. There was no escape, he was surrounded. If he didn't do it, would they hurt Dami? Would Tim take the man's place and be killed instead? He didn't want to die again but he didn't want to kill either.
He looked down at the long sharp knife in his hand. It was taking everything he had to not shake as he gripped the blade. Across the room, Talia met his eyes, she could do nothing. Whatever happened next was up to him. He didn't want to, he didn't.
The man was sneering at him, spouting off about him being a silly child, it didn't bother him. Ra's cut in, reciting a list of the man's crimes and Tim felt sick. Children… He closed his eyes and then moved. He bit his cheek as hot blood splashed his face, the man choking on his own blood, body collapsing.
"Well done, Timothy."
He shuddered in revulsion at the praise even as Ra's petted his head like he was an obedient dog. The body was cleared away and Tim remained where he was, the blade taken away from him.
,
She wasn't surprised to hear the sound of someone vomiting as she slipped into the room. At least his obedience had seen his room upgraded to one with an attached bathroom. She picked up a cloth and cup, filling the cup with water and dampening the cloth. She found Timothy where she expected and gently helped him clean himself up.
"You did very well," she murmured, helping him up.
He shuddered and she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He had grown in height since his dip in the Pit and lately, he'd begun putting on muscle, shoulders broadening slowly. He'd been tiny when he had been brought to them, neglect and his parents continual absence affecting his growth. She had dug into them, seeing the way Janet Drake shielded her son from her husband. She respected the woman for that, after all, didn't she try to do the same for her own son? At least she had an ally in Timothy, Janet had had no one to help her. The woman had been a master at manipulating her husband, she would have made an excellent assassin. It was a pity she had died at her husband's hands before he took the cowards' way out. Or at least, that was how it appeared. There was no evidence, but two less ties to life outside the League? She could see her father ensuring that except it had happened before Timothy's resurrection. Not even her father could have seen that coming, he had said he did not know how he had returned.
"This is his way of easing you into killing," she warned, and Tim nodded.
He half collapsed on his bed and she retrieved the bowl of soup that she had brought, something warm, comforting, and unlikely to unsettle his stomach again.
"Try and get some rest, your training will likely increase now that you have made a kill."
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Selina gently cleaned off the headstone, tracing the lettering. "Hello kitten," she murmured. "You'd be happy to know that Jason's doing well. I'd say he's almost fully recovered. I'm not sure if he'll go back to being Robin though, not after what happened."
She put the small kitten statue against the stone. "We all miss you so much."
"And always will," Pam murmured, a new climbing rose sprouting up, winding about the stone and statue.
Harley gently patted the rose, leaning against Pam as Selina stood.
She smiled softly at the two. "Drinks at my place."
,
Tim found computers fascinating. He'd been learning at school and on his own before, he'd been able to hack the school systems in his sleep. He'd been beginning to move outside of that, looking at the GCPD systems very carefully, other groups in Gotham. And now he was being encouraged to learn. The League had top of the line equipment but not many people who knew them well. This was one area he was happy to show his skills in, the more access he was allowed, the deeper he could sneak, the more backdoors he could put in. And maybe…maybe one day he would be able to call for help.
He stared at the file he had found. It was…it was Jason at a gravesite. He enhanced the image and swallowed. That was…that was his gravestone. Jason visited him? He looked good, a cane leaning beside him. Was that permanent? How old was the photo…a few months. And there was another photo, Dick standing with a hand on Jason's shoulder. He was missed. It hurt. He quickly shut the file and wiped all record of his accessing it as he sensed someone approaching.
He couldn't let Ra's know that he didn't believe his lies. He was missed; he wasn't forgotten.
,
Jason jolted awake, breathing heavily. He was in his bedroom; the screams weren't real…he'd never heard Tim scream. He'd been unconscious when the younger teen died with Sheila. He hated that Tim had died trying to save her, she hadn't been worth the sacrifice. The nightmares weren't as frequent, mostly popping up around Tim's birthday and the anniversary. But they were always variations on events, Tim dying in different and ever more horrible ways. Always screaming for Jason, Robin, to save him.
He got up and headed into the bathroom, wanting to shower off the cold sweat. It was weird but sometimes he'd almost forget that the kid was dead, forever fourteen. He'd hear a laugh at school, see a camera or a flash of black hair… but B, Dick, even Alfred all swore that they had buried Tim. They had refused to let him see the evidence but he'd hacked into the file. He knew the kind of damage the bomb had done to Tim, no one could survive that. So why, even years later, did it feel like it wasn't real? He'd barely known Tim, had only known him as Alvin.
It seemed silly that his death still affected him so much, but Harley had told him it was fine. Tim had died while saving him so apparently it wasn't surprising at all that it had impacted him so much, even when he didn't remember. And after a few of her questions he had realised, he had something of a crush on Tim, on Alvin, the brave kid who had raced rooftops with him. if Tim had survived the crush would have faded with time or become more, either way it could have been dealt with. But with Tim dead it was just left there in his heart.
He was still torn over returning to vigilantism. Part of him missed the freedom of flying through the Gotham night, the thrill of the fight. But another part was terrified, even with the Joker dead. He wasn't ready yet anyway, it was taking time to rebuild his physical conditioning. He'd ended up needing surgery for some of the broken bones and then once they were healing properly, he'd needed therapy to regain strength and stamina.
He knew he was beyond lucky that he'd retained full mental abilities given how many head blows he'd taken but he had suffered a skull fracture and an orbital fracture as well. Added to the broken and cracked ribs, his leg and wrist…well…he was lucky that B eventually turned to the doctors on the Watchtower or he'd be in for arthritis at a young age from the damage and surgeries.
He'd been assured that he could handle the physicality of being a vigilante. He just had to decide. And he didn't even have to do it alone. Sure, in Gotham there were B, Dick and Babs, even Steph though she didn't really work with them. Dick found her amusing, would banter with Spoiler. Jason hadn't actually met her since she didn't know who the Bats were, B didn't trust her to that level yet. Though Babs had taken the younger girl under her wing.
Roy hung around when he could, but he had a kid now which was mind blowing. He'd even made Jason her godfather! Which was proof that the man was nuts. What did Jason know about kids? Wally visited too, to spend time with Dick and check on him. He'd even zipped Jason away from the city for a few hours so he could take a break. But Jason would never fit with the Titans and a lot of them had moved on from the team.
There was a new team though, a smaller one, Young Justice. He'd been watching them and he didn't like what he was seeing. Not with the team themselves, he thought they were doing a good job. No, it was their treatment that he didn't like. Wonder Woman had always been his favourite while Superman was Dick's but even Dick didn't like how the man had reacted to Kon-El's existence. It wasn't like the kid had asked to be made, be made at the people who did it and not the innocent victim. The problem was, there weren't many willing to stand up to Superman. Bruce would but he'd been so busy with WE and Jason the last few years so he'd let a lot with the JL slide. Diana had been pretty busy at the time too but she had been taking him to task in the last few months apparently. She had also done her best for the new Wonder Girl, ensuring she had training and resources. Impulse…was almost as complicated as Superboy given he was from the future. Poor shocked Barry. And while he hadn't taken Bart in himself, he had made sure the kid had a civilian life and training.
And yet the team was treated like a bit of a joke despite the fact they'd pulled off some impressive feats. The JL looked down on them. Would…would having a Bat on the team help get them the respect they deserved?
,
Talia ran through the halls, sword in hand, cutting down any who got in her way. Who was behind this? How had they managed such a large attack on the Cradle itself without them knowing in advance? But it didn't matter, her sons were in danger and she would not stop until they were safe.
She found her loyal guards among the dead scattered about, saw the door to Damian's room broken and mostly off the hinge…blood on the ground. She took a breath and burst in, ready to fight, only to freeze as a body dropped. She glanced around at the dead bodies and then at the sole standing fighter. He was panting, eyes wide, the sword in his hand dripping with blood.
"Tim," she called his name, softly, sheathing her own sword so as to not be seen as a further threat.
She was not sure how aware he was of what was happening. She tried to spot Damian…there, Timothy had kept the area around the small storage cabinet clear, he had killed to defend it, he must have hidden Damian within it.
"It's alright now, you can lower the sword. I am here." She carefully extended her hand to him, seeing the slightly brighter green in his eyes.
He blinked slowly, coming back to himself, and she caught him as he collapsed, shaking. She gently stroked his hair as she helped him to the ground, out of the pooling blood. Some of it had to be his but adrenaline was likely masking the wounds.
"T…ta…"
"Shh, don't try to speak," she murmured. Others would arrive at any moment and she would not have him give away the secret he had kept for so long.
He coughed but thankfully it didn't sound like there was any fluid in his lungs so it was unlikely he had taken an upper body stab wound that was dangerous. The black clothing made finding blood harder, and he was rather liberally covered in it from the fight. She found several cuts, a lot of bruises, but thankfully there was nothing life threatening.
He tugged at her sleeve, pointing to the cabinet. Talia nodded and went to it, relieved to find Damian sleeping peacefully within, too large headphones over his hears to keep him from hearing and crying. Smart.
She cradled her son to her chest and then drew the exhausted teen into her side, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Thank you for protecting your brother," she whispered.
,
Ra's looked at the remains of the toddlers rooms, smirking as he took in the bodies. Timothy had done very well. He had loyally defended the League's heir, he had known using the brat would work. Timothy would do anything to keep the child safe, even slaughter any who came near. He would be rewarded, given some more computer training, some time to relax. And then it would be time.
,
Tim knelt, hating the extra cloth covering his body. The training clothes he normally wore were bad enough but now he was dressed in the full garb of an assassin. He wanted to rip it off, throw it away, but he couldn't. He obediently kept his head down, not looking at the Demon's Head, Ra's al Ghul… he had heard of the League of Assassins before but always thought they were a myth, like the Court of Owls in Gotham. Did this mean the Court existed?
He pushed those thoughts away, in the man's 'throne room' was no time to become distracted. But distraction was easier than thinking about what he'd done weeks ago. To remember the stickiness of his clothes, the stench…no, pay attention!
"And now the final touch to your uniform, Timothy," the man almost purred his name, making him feel sick. And he'd thought the coldness in Jack's voice was bad when he said his name, this was a million times worse.
Hands grabbed his shoulders, holding him in place. He might be doing well in his training, had been given a strength boost by the two dunks in the Pit (something he never wanted to go through again), but he was still a teenager. Two grown men could hold him down without too much effort. His head was pulled up and he saw another assassin approaching with a contraption in their hands…he really was going to be sick. A muzzle! They were going to…he wanted to struggle, to get away, put it was pointless. He wasn't strong enough. Not yet.
He gagged on the cold metal as part of it was forced into his mouth, straps secured around his face. Did they suspect he could still speak despite how careful he'd been? He could still breath but even if he wanted to, there was no way he could speak.
"A precaution, continue to prove loyal and eventually, it will not be necessary. You are receiving you first mission, one you will not fail," Ra's stated and Tim swallowed around the metal in his mouth, bowing his head again in submission. "You will hunt down those who dared to attack our home and you will kill them."
Alone?!
Ra's chuckled as if Tim had asked the question out loud. "You will of course be working with a team. But they will follow your lead…to a point."
Tim nodded, understanding the warning. He was being allowed out but on a leash. If he stepped out of line then there would be consequences, for either him in the field, or Damian back at base. It wasn't time yet, Talia's forces had taken a hit in the attack as well, fighting to defend Damian and even him. She had called Damian his brother, had checked him over for wounds…he wanted to say it was manipulation…but he wanted it to be real.
,
He did not agree with the boy being muzzled, this was not how they worked, but what the Master ordered, they obeyed. He glanced at Prudence and Owens, seeing her slight signs of discomfort and his carefully blank face. They didn't like the sight of a kid in a muzzle either. But they would not dare to say anything. And there was a small hole in the muzzle so that he could be given water and liquid nutrients. He would not suffer physically from its presence.
The fact that it was being used suggested that the Master did not believe the boy was truly mute. And yet no one had ever heard a noise from him since his first trip into the Pit. He truly appeared to be utterly mute. But that was not something that would keep him from the field, silence was preferred after all. He had learnt their sign language swiftly and was fluent in it now. If the boy had his voice, surely, he would have tried calling Superman for help in the early days, before he learnt the base was utterly sound proofed against even Kryptonians.
Hopefully, he would soon prove himself and the muzzle would be seen as unnecessary. He did not want to have to punish a child should he mess up. But from the slaughter that Z had seen in that room, Timothy did not seem to be against killing those who had attacked the Cradle. Loyal to the Master or not, his attachment to the youngest al Ghul would surely ensure he acted in the best interests of the League. And for now, that was all that mattered.
TBC…
So, Talia's given in and admitted, if only to herself, that she has 2 sons. Need a nickname she would use for Tim, so please give suggestions and in whatever language you think she'd use.