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Tim pulled into the Batcave a little after nine. His head was pounding thanks to lack of sleep – he’s going onto twenty-six hours of no shut eye – and all he wants to do is hand over his hard drive to whomever is present in the Cave, inform them of the impromptu break he’ll be taking for the next few days, and then head to his apartment. Conner was planning on picking him up, and they were going to spend their evening at Bart’s place. They were hoping to get him at least eight hours of sleep and then go on a lunch date, depending on when they decided to pull themselves out of bed, and then spend the rest of the week doing whatever came to mind.
(Tim knows Kon is planning on taking them to Hawaii for a few days, though he’s sure it’s supposed to be a surprise.)
He was usually very good at keeping a decent sleep schedule, all things considered. He aimed to get at least six hours of sleep daily, and if he didn’t manage it during the night, he’d squeeze in naps throughout the day. He kept his caffeine intake to three cups every twenty-four hours, ate three meals throughout the day before patrol and then a snack after, and even managed to push a workout into his schedule.
But the case he had been working on ended up needing more attention than he had first anticipated. After a long day working at WE and dealing with, frankly, people who really didn’t know how to do their jobs, he ended up sitting in his office working through the case for the next thirteen hours, paired with a bad night’s rest. He could feel the itch of laughter in his throat – has since it made itself known around forty minutes ago – and he just wanted to get to his boyfriends as soon as he could.
A quick dinner, a bath with all of them squeezed into Bart's tub, and then a full night’s rest squished between his two most favorite people was definitely what his night called for. He smiled already just at the thought.
Tim quickly placed his helmet on his motorcycle’s handles, and rubbed a hand through his messy hair before he quickly dismounted and headed over to the computer. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he smiled upon seeing Conner’s reminder of his arrival in twenty minutes. Just enough time for him to upload his case for Bruce to read over and get back to his apartment. He sent his boyfriend a quick ‘see you soon <3’ and got a row of heart emojis in response.
“Heya, Baby Bird!” Dick called cheerfully when Tim came into view.
He was halfway undressed from his Nightwing costume – simply wearing sweats, his Nightwing gloves and mask, a bottle of solvent already between his fingers – and a large grin. Jason grunted slightly from the chair, one arm wrapped up in a sling and a bruise on his jaw. Damian was scowling next to Dick, already in pajamas.
“You guys not patrolling tonight?” Tim asked after waving.
“Nah, Jay was benched.” Dick said with a laugh, “I already did a quick patrol, all the others are still out, and Dami here hasn’t seen Lion King before, so we’re having a movie night! You should join us!”
Tim shook his head, “Maybe next time, I’m spending the night with Bart and Kon. I’ll be gone until Friday.”
Dick pouted slightly but nodded his head. Tim was thankful he wasn’t pushing the matter.
“Why are you here then, Replacement?” Jason asked gruffly as he squinted at the screen in front of him.
Tim hid his grimace at the use of Replacement. It’s been a while since that name showed its ugly head – Jason stuck to using Baby Bird, Timmers, or Timbit, most days.
“What crawled up your ass,” Tim muttered as he dug his hard drive from his pocket. He placed it next to Jason's hand, by the keyboard.
“Todd got shot tonight,” Damian sniffed, “So he’s decided to go back to his clown obsession.”
Ice flooded Tim’s veins and he cleared his throat as the itch of laughter grew. He really, really didn’t want to deal with this today. Maybe he should have just sent the information to Babs, but Tim hadn’t wanted to give her more blackmail when he informed her that he’d be gone for the next few days. She'd be happy he was taking a break and then tell him to remember to bring protection and laugh when he gets embarrassed and stammered out something she really doesn’t need to know. It's happened too many times already.
He did not need his family sticking their noses into his love life, especially when the relationship was only a few months in. Alfred, Bruce, and Barbara were the only ones that knew, and he wanted to keep it that way for at least another few weeks. He didn’t need his overprotective brothers threatening his boyfriends for months on end just yet, thank you very much.
But anything would be better than hearing about the Joker whilst Tim was already having a bad day.
“I want to know how he died!” Jason snapped after a pause, scowling. “I’ve gone through everything in the system. All the files B has on it says that he died, but there’s no details! There’s no description of the scene, no suspects, no cause of death, no anything. All it says is that he’s dead.”
“Maybe it’s not something you should look into…” Dick trailed off but Jason’s reply was lost to Tim’s ears.
That’s not funny.
Even after all these years, he can’t ever seem to truly get that man’s voice from his ears. He can’t get the memory of how he was broken out of his mind, can’t forget the feel of that gun in his hands, can’t forget what it was like to pull the trigger.
“That’s not funny” Joker had said when Tim had killed him.
The itch grew and grew and grew until Tim found that he couldn’t breathe past the pressure it created. Despite his best efforts, a giggle escaped Tim’s lips. The conversation died instantly, everyone turning to look at him and Tim pressed his lips together in an attempt to silence the laughter threatening to break through.
“Tim?” Dick asked slowly.
Tim knew he should have gotten some sleep; knew he should have let Bruce handle this case. B hadn’t wanted him to take it – said it was too similar to Tim’s past and it had been, but it wasn’t the first case where he’s dealt with abuse nor was it the first that had actions even vaguely similar to the Joker's, and it wouldn’t be the last. He shouldn’t have had that fourth, fifth cup of coffee and he should have taken more breaks.
He should have dropped the hard drive onto the computer and left the moment the Joker was mentioned.
Tim sucked in a sharp breath, stuttered as laughter forced its way out of his throat, and stumbled back a step. His hands shook as he slapped them across his mouth as a grin twisted his lips and cackles escaped him without his consent.
That’s not funny, that’s not funny, that’snotfunny–
Tim choked, moving to cover his ears in an attempt to just stop hearing his voice – God, please, he didn’t want to hear him anymore – and tugged at his hair when it didn’t help. A sharp pain formed at his knees as his legs gave out, giggles leaving him. He could feel hands on his shoulders, pulling his hands from his hair and ears, could hear voices barking at each other, but it was all just out of reach. He could still feel the weight of the gun in his hands, could still feel the worn skin where leather had eaten at his wrists, could still feel that scratchy suit he had been stuffed into.
Tears were wet on his cheeks, and jolts shook his limbs, his chest heaved for breath between his giggles. Suddenly, the tight grip on his arms was gone, and he was pushed into someone’s chest. Large arms wrapped around him, and the unique smell of Kevlar and leather and B’s cologne reached his nose. Large hands ran up his back and there was a rumbling voice speaking softly in his ear.
Tim barked out a mix between a sob and a laugh, and gripped onto Bruce as he tried desperately to listen to what he was saying.
“–heart, just breathe, it’s okay. You’re with me, I’ve got you, Tim.” Bruce said gently, rubbing a hand through his hair gently. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you. Can you breathe with me, Tim?”
Tim’s chest stuttered as he tried to copy his father’s breathing. Slowly, his laughter died down and the itch that’s been taunting him disappeared. His breath hitched with sobs instead of laughter and the smile that had twisted his lips finally fell.
“B-Bruce,” he said shakily.
“I’m here, Tim.” Bruce said gently. “Are you with me, Tim?”
Tim wanted to tell him that he knew who he was – Junior hadn’t been present since a year after the attack. He hasn’t gotten confused on who he was in years, the Laughing Fits were few and far between. He’s gotten himself together; treats his mind and body well and visited a therapist weekly. But all he managed to do was close his eyes and focus on his breathing.
Slowly, he pushed himself out of Bruce’s hold and dabbed at his eyes with his hoodie. Well, it was really Bart’s hoodie, Tim had raided his side of the closet in the Nest when he had gotten back from WE yesterday. He brought the front of it to his nose, inhaled Bart’s unique scent of ozone and salt and felt his shoulders relax. He could feel his brothers’ worried gazes, could see the sad understanding in Bruce’s eyes.
“Master Tim,” Alfred said gently, handing him a glass of water.
“Thanks, Alfie,” Tim mumbled, taking a slow sip. The water sloshed as his hands trembled.
He hasn’t had an attack this bad in years – not since B had been lost in time, Kon and Bart had been dead, and everyone thought him to be crazy. He’s always been good at seeing the signs to one of his fits, and he’s gotten so much better at preventing them. Good sleep, less coffee, good meals, and less stressful situations. He avoids his triggers and speaks with a therapist weekly. His boyfriends are always supportive – they all are with each other; they all have their issues but they’re working on it and support each other without becoming reliant because they all know better than to become completely dependent on each other.
He hasn’t thought of the Joker in months. He’s been so proud of himself, Kon and Bart always send him those smiles that say they are too. But recovery never ends and there will always be setbacks.
“Tim,” Bruce starts.
“Just…just give me a minute,” Tim cut in weakly.
His phone buzzed consistently on the floor by him; both Bart’s and Kon’s specialty ring tones singing consistently. He must have dropped it earlier. Kon probably heard his laughter, or he must have missed his arrival at Gotham. They must be worried sick about him. Tim reached out and grasped his phone with trembling hands, cursing when it fell from his grasp. His eyes burned and he could feel shame heat his neck.
“Can you tell them that I’m okay?” he asked quietly. He rattled off his password when Bruce nodded, squeezing his hand.
“Tim?” Dick asked quietly and Tim suddenly realized his brother was kneeling just behind him. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. Jason was a few steps behind him, Damian pressed near Dick's side. They all looked, well, worried. Fearful.
“Baby Bird, what was that?” Jason inquired, but his voice was gentle. He sounded like he did when running across a scared child.
“I informed them you'll be staying in the manor tonight,” Bruce cut in.
“What? No, I'm not.” Tim said. “I have plans, B.”
“You just had an attack for the first time since you were sixteen,” Bruce said, his hand rubbed circles into the small of Tim's back, comforting where his words were worried. “I would like you to stay here where we can keep an eye on you, Tim.”
“You just want to make sure I don’t become him again.” Tim spat out wobbly, flinching back as hurt flooded him, “Bruce, they've never gone away and I’m perfectly fine!”
Suddenly Bruce's face contorted with confusion, then realization, and then an all-consuming grief. “Tim…why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped, son.”
And maybe he could have, but Bruce had been dead. He had been dead, and everyone had turned against him, and Tim had been alone. He had learned what he needed to do, learned what set him off, what made the Laughing Fits go away and stay away. It’s been years since he's gotten one this bad; he didn’t see why he should worry his family when he was doing so good – is doing good.
Bruce sighed after a moment. “I'm sorry you felt you had to keep it from me, Tim.”
“I’m better, B,” Tim said, “I haven’t had a fit since you were lost in time.”
Dick flinched against him, Bruce winced visibly.
Tim hurries to continue. “Besides! Bart and Kon help me a lot, a-and I have a therapist! I rarely think of the Joker anymore!”
He freezes and Dick freezes and something drops behind him. Jason whispers out “what?” and suddenly Tim really wishes he had just slipped away when he had the chance.
“What the fuck does the Joker have to do with this, Bruce?” Jason spat out. He took a step forward and Tim flinched slightly. Jason sent him a worried look, the anger in his frame lessening slightly. “Tim?”
Tim ducked his head, biting his lip. This wasn’t how he planned on spending his evening. He briefly wondered if Kon would hear him if he called for him.
“We will talk about this later.” Bruce said, “Tim needs rest.”
“Can Kon pick me up?” Tim asked meekly.
“I…won’t keep you here,” Bruce said, frowning slightly, “But I do worry, Tim.”
Tim thought of grabbing his phone and sending Kon a text to come pick him up at the Manor, and then spending the night as he planned it with his boyfriends. He thought of soaking up the comfort they would offer and ignoring the worried looks they thought they were sneaking over his head.
But then he thought of the way Dick was worriedly hovering over him, as if he wasn’t sure he could touch Tim. He thought of the way Damian kept a hand near Tim’s ankle, waiting for any sign that he could offer comfort in the way he usually did. He thought of the way Jason was towering over him protectively and Bruce was keeping a hand on his back, steadying and worried.
Kon and Bart will be worried, but they would understand. They would be supportive of his choice. Besides, they still had all week together.
“I think Dick said something about Lion King.” Tim said tiredly and placed his hand on Dick’s wrist while he bumped his ankle against Damian’s hand.
Dick wrapped his arms around Tim tightly, burying his face into Tim’s hair. Damian’s hand was warm on his ankle, and he gripped it tightly. Jason carefully placed his hand on Tim’s shoulder. Bruce smiled at him slightly and helped him stand.
Tim ended up in the theatre room fifteen minutes later, freshly showered and dressed in one of Bruce’s sweaters and Dick’s sweatpants. He had been promptly bundled in a fluffy blanket with Dick cuddled around him. Jason was leaning against his shoulder with Damian squeezed into the space between them. Bruce was sitting on the couch to their other side, Alfred sitting next to him while sipping his tea.
There was a bowl of popcorn in his lap and hot cocoa in his hands. No one said anything when he took out his phone, sending reassurances to his lovers and answering whatever silly text they sent him – squinting slightly to see the words on the pictures they sent.
Normally phones were not allowed during their movie nights, but they made an exception, which he was grateful for. Kon and Bart had flipped out when Tim had told them what had happened but respected his decision to stay with his family – it reminded Tim of the first time they found him during one of his Laughing Fits.
He had barricaded himself in his room at the Tower, fifteen, and terrified of someone seeing him like that. Kon had found him and had freaked but ended up wrapping Tim in a hug and holding him throughout it. Bart, the only other person in the Tower at the time, had paced around the room before holding Tim’s hands and practically cried the entire time. They had been awful, but they had helped him more than he could ever say.
Tim laughed a bit at the memory and felt everyone tense against him. He ducked his head, sheepish. “Sorry, I was just thinking of Bart.”
Dick ran a hand through Tim’s hair and hugged him a bit tighter.
“Do you wish to speak of it, Timothy?” Damian asked after a moment.
Tim blinked at his younger brother, before he smiled slightly. “Bart and Kon found me during…one of my fits. And they were awful. Bart vibrated through the floor and Kon yelled at him like the whole time.”
“And these fits of yours?” Damian asked.
“Dami,” Dick said, a bit warningly.
Tim stared at the movie in front of him but didn’t really see it. He rubbed at his wrists absently and could almost feel the phantom feeling of leather biting into his skin as electricity flooded him.
“The Joker thought – well, I don’t know what he was really thinking. Maybe he thought it was funny, taking Batman’s Robin and making him his.” Tim said.
His voice didn’t shake nor was it filled with anger or sadness. He felt detached, speaking of it. He has only explained it twice; to Bart and Kon and later to his therapist. She was honestly a saint, dealing with him for so long. Tim made a mental note to send her a fruit basket.
“He took me, tried to break me.” He leaned back, stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Said it would be so funny, the best joke, that Batman would die hearing our laughter. That he would die by his Robin’s hands. ‘Make Papa proud, sonny boy,’” Tim smiled mirthlessly, “He didn’t expect me to aim at him.”
That’s not funny…that’s n-not…
“You killed him.” Jason realized.
“I did.” Tim replied.
“Why – why didn’t I know?” Dick asked, and his voice was thick with tears and emotions. “I – why didn’t I know?”
“I didn’t want you to.” Tim said. When he tried to curl away, Dick hugged him tighter. “I know you didn’t like me much, then, Dick. I knew that and I understood it and I respected it. I was wearing the title your brother died in – it’s okay to be upset about it. At the time, I didn’t want you to see what happened to me. To know any of that.”
Tim remembered how he had admitted this to Bruce and the next day he heard him and Dick arguing. He hadn’t run into Dick again until a year later – by then there was no Junior, the Laughing Fits were easier to predict and weren’t as frequent. It was easier to see Dick and keep the laughter at bay, and it was easy to sweep the entire incident under the rug and just be his little brother.
(Sometimes Tim thinks, a little guiltily, that it’s a good thing Dick hadn’t known. If Dick had known the truth while Bruce had been lost, who knows what he would have thought – would have done, to get Tim help he most certainly didn’t need.)
“It’s in the past now.” Tim told his brother. “I’m doing really good now, honestly.”
Sometimes he just needed to laugh. Sometimes he’ll give a few chuckles because there’s an itch in his throat, sometimes his smile is just a little wider, but it doesn’t harm him. He doesn’t hate himself for it anymore. He’s doing good, all things considered.
“Good.” Damian said. “Now let us finish the movie.”
Tim didn’t say anything when Dick held him tighter or when Jason rested a hand in his hair. He didn’t say anything when Damian put more weight onto him, nor did he say anything when Bruce watched them with soft eyes and shared a smile with Alfred.
It felt…nice. To have his brothers know the truth. To have them see him the same as they did before and not weaker.
Tim rested his head on Jason’s shoulder, smiled to himself, and let his tired eyes close, knowing he couldn’t be safer than where he was.
When Tim stumbled his way downstairs the next morning, his head was feeling better than it had last night. His hair was in a lose braid – he’s assuming Dick must have done it while he had been asleep – and there had been one of Jason’s jackets in Tim’s room.
He wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about everything that happened the night before. On one hand, it was nice to finally have his brothers know the truth, on the other, he’s lied to them for years and they must be hurt by it. Tim wasn’t the best detective after an attack like that and being sleep deprived.
He lingered outside the dining room for a few moments before he steeled his nerves and walked through the doorway. He was predictably noticed instantly – Dick waved at him excitedly, Jason met his eyes and nodded, and Damian gave a curt glance – which was usually what happened on the days they were all in the manor.
“Hey, Tim!” Dick said happily, “You feeling better? We should go out today!”
“Yes, I wish to go to the mall.” Damian said. “You should come, Timothy.”
“Little Wing is coming too.” Dick added and Jason glared half-heartedly.
Well, Tim thought, there goes my week with Kon and Bart.
There is no way his brothers will let him out of their sight. Even Bruce had that gleam in his eyes he only got when he was plotting a way to keep his kids home.
“I did have plans, you know.” Tim said as he sat down.
“Cancel them.” Damian said curtly.
“Yeah, tell Conner you’re spending time with family.” Dick added cheerfully.
“He’s planning on taking us to Hawaii.” Tim replied.
His phone dinged, and he giggled when he read Kon's ‘wtf Tim how did you find out' text. He sent a quick ‘I’m a bat, Kon' back and sent a heart to Bart when he sent a string of emojis into their group chat. He smiled at the flurry of hearts he got in response.
“Holy shit,” Jason said.
“Language, Master Jason.” Alfred scolded, “And no electronics at the table, Master Tim.”
“You’re dating the alien!” Damian said, shocked.
“Tim! How long have you and Conner been dating!?” Dick cried, gaping at him.
“That bastard, “ Jason growled, “B, I’m borrowing your Kryp-“
“No!” Tim yelled, waving his hands, “You won’t be attacking my boyfriends!”
“BOYFRIENDS?!”
“You’re dating that speedster, huh? I'll need to grab my guns while I’m at it.”
“Does Wally know?! How could he not tell me! I need to give them all a talk!”
“I will be going out today with Jon, we will not be doing anything incriminating to Allen and Kent, Father, there will be no evidence.”
“Guys stop! I like them alive! Dad, stop them!”
Bruce sipped his coffee, flipping the page of his newspaper. Tim sighed and sent a text to the group chat.
‘You two are on your own. I'll bring dinner if you survive.’