Work Text:
“Of course you have contingencies for me,” Tim says, in a tone that suggests Bruce even pretending otherwise is both annoying and an insult to Tim's intelligence. “You have contingencies for everyone.”
“Not everyone,” Bruce says. He has not looked away from Tim’s face once. “Not you.”
Red Robin’s eyes narrow. Searching. Dissecting. Analyzing. Then they widen, surprise blooming in the blue. Whatever Tim sees in Bruce’s face supports the truth behind the man’s words. Not everyone. Not you.
“That’s…stupid,” Tim says after a long pause. “Bruce–,”
“I don’t have contingencies for you.” Short, businesses-like. Then, softer. “There’s nothing more to discuss, Tim.”
Tim’s surprised expression shudders into something more uncertain and off balance. He swallows as he looks away.
“You should,” he mutters, but drops the matter, returning his attention to the Bat computer, to removing all traces of the Hit List that had done so much harm to Damian.
Bruce keeps his breathing even and measured, doesn’t betray for a second the relief he feels. That Tim believed him. That Tim saw the truth in Bruce’s face. That Tim didn’t find the uglier, unsaid truth hidden beneath Bruce’s carefully considered words.
The lack of contingencies for Red Robin does not mean that Batman trusts him infallibly.
The lack of contingencies for Red Robin means that a compromised Tim Drake is one of the things Bruce fears most.
***
The decision was made in consideration of key datapoints.
The first datapoint:
An adolescent boy uncovers the identity of Batman and two robins, assesses Batman’s behaviour in the field and directly correlates it to the absence of Robin II, develops a plan of action, and doggedly pursues that plan until he achieves the desired result.
Thirteen-year-old Timothy Drake is a sweet and earnest boy, is the thing. And Bruce is too busy trying to keep his head above a continual tide of soul-consuming grief to look beyond anything other than Tim’s capacity to survive in the hellhole that is Gotham. What traits will help him survive as Robin III? Cleverness. Deduction. Tenacity. And the boy has them all in spades.
Still, the trait that led Tim to Bruce - I will fix it myself I will take it into my own hands - is a flaw in a child sidekick, despite being a core trait to all vigilantes. But Tim knows it. Knows he cannot follow Jason’s example. He is careful to follow orders and not be reckless. He knows what will happen if he doesn’t: failure to achieve his desired result. Tim’s goal as Robin is to keep Batman grounded, and he cannot do it if dead.
The relevance of the datapoint is this: there is something unsettling and cold in Tim's motivation. In a child who weighs the worth of his own life only in his capacity to be an anchor, a counterweight to grief and violence. The selflessness could be considered heartwarming, but the logic behind it is clinical and cruel. Tim has to be careful because if he dies as Robin, Batman will become unstable again and Gotham will suffer. Who would be hurt by Tim’s death does not seem to factor into those early equations.
It was not something Bruce noticed, at the time. Too concerned with keeping another child’s blood off his hands. Robin’s survival was a shared goal between them, not a red flag warning of things to come. Bruce didn’t stop to think about what it meant, that Tim was concerned with his own death only insofar as it related to the death of another Robin.
Bruce doesn’t know what he would have done if he had noticed. If he had thought of the implications, actually considered how horrifying the logic was. Because it was not so far off from how Bruce felt about his own death back then. In those months where the house had returned to the emptiness it had existed in for all those years before Dick. He doesn’t know what he would have done if he’d really considered the implications of Tim, before any training had occurred, already being so very, very like Bruce.
But he didn’t notice.
He didn’t notice, until it was too late to do anything about it.
The last datapoint:
At seventeen, Tim nearly perfectly orchestrates the death of his Father’s killer. The plan is meticulous and cold, clearly plotted out to just barely operate within the bounds of Batman’s moral code. Or rather, a sociopath’s understanding of it.
Bruce does not believe Tim is a sociopath. That, that, he would have noticed. And the near perfection of the plan speaks to that. If Bruce is being uncharitable, then Tim left evidence of his scheme behind because the heightened emotion made him sloppier. If Bruce is being charitable, then Tim left evidence behind because subconsciously he wanted Nightwing or Bruce to stop him.
But the nearly perfectly orchestrated murder forces Bruce to really look at the boy. His former Robin. Tenacious. Clever. Independent. Ruthless. A creature of calculating logic. Tim could have executed the murder of his father’s killer flawlessly, without a trail. And that is terrifying.
You saved him tonight, but what about tomorrow? A question that hangs horribly in the air between them. A question that crystallizes what Bruce has only realized recently, that he only came to understand in these months after his return from the "dead".
All vigilantes are dangerous. But Tim Drake is a danger. He is a danger, a risk, a potential nuclear bomb in a way that highlights all of Bruce’s failures. If he were to lose his moral center, if he was to shift to killing, and then shift further, if the darkness hanging heavy in his eyes took root, Tim would be an unimaginable threat to Gotham - and if Bruce is being honest, the world.
Too clever, too analytical, too practised at considering all possibilities and at assessing allies as threats. Tim has the potential to become someone Bruce, Batman, could not outsmart. And it is because Bruce was his mentor, and only his mentor, and an absent mentor at that. One who failed to note the implications of all the red flags that had waved over the past five years, the signs of what Tim had always been, and what both Batman's tutelage and absences were turning him into.
A selection of datapoints in between:
Datapoint -
In the early days, Tim works hard to be Jason’s opposite in every way. Not reckless, always listening to Batman, and staying close. But circumstances conspire, forcing him to act alone more and more often. And he excels. It is not long before Tim is the most independent Robin Gotham has ever seen. Constantly on his own, but almost never reckless.
Bruce allows it. Trying to hold the boy close would be a disservice to both him and the city. Tim is good at what he does. And it's an effort in futility to try and keep a tight leash on a child Bruce has limited guardianship over, who doesn't live with him. Tim is the only Robin that doesn't end every shift in the care of Alfred and the Wayne manor. He is the only Robin whose home is not tied to his roost. And self-sufficiency becomes etched into his being.
Datapoint -
Tim excels at the test Bruce gives him on his 16th birthday, demonstrating a commendable balance of paranoia and deduction.
His anger when Bruce reveals it was all a test (a trick) surprises Bruce, because– well, Tim did well. He proved that his detective skills are already nearly on-par with Bruce’s. The success should have been a suitable birthday present. But Tim is furious.
Still, Bruce is hopeful that he’ll come to understand the skills Bruce was trying to hone in him. Come to appreciate how proud Bruce is at Tim’s deduction, and of his ability to operate under the fear of every single person he loves and trusts potentially turning against him.
Datapoint -
Tim’s father dies. With his signature detail-oriented and dogged focus, Tim invents a fake uncle. A brilliant, comprehensive solution systematically executed to ensure Tim retains independence. From family, from the state, from Bruce.
Bruce is proud. It can’t be overstated how brilliant Tim is, and meticulous. And he respects and understands Tim's need to be in control of his own life. He is used to taking care of himself, and wants to continue to do so. But it is gratifying when Tim accepts Bruce's help to shore up the very few holes in his forged documentation.
Datapoint -
Tim’s eventual adoption is a negotiation more than anything else. Much like Tim first becoming Robin had been. He is not, and never has been, an orphan plucked from misfortune by Bruce. He has always, always, only come to Bruce of his own power.
And still, there is a kind of relief, a kind of guarded hopefulness in Tim's expression, as he formally becomes Bruce’s son, and gets to actually, genuinely, call the manor home.
And then Bruce "dies".
Datapoints, posthumously considered -
- Despite everyone, despite Dick telling him that he's crazy, Tim doggedly pursues proof of Bruce being alive. He doesn’t listen to the whole world telling him he’s wrong, doubting him, turning from him. He remains convinced he is right, and that he can solve this mystery on his own.
- Spoiler successfully acts as Bruce’s proxy, testing Tim on Batman's behalf by complicating his plans, forcing him to adapt to sabotage enacted by someone he trusts. Tim works around her obstructions, proving his finely honed ability to navigate around betrayal.
- Tim defeats Ra's al’Ghul, emancipates himself, and makes himself CEO of Wayne Enterprises.
- Tim creates a Hit List, so clearly modelled after Bruce’s own contingencies. A record of dangerous entities that might someday have to be taken out. Heroes and villains are on the list. Damian is on the list.
- Tim finds his proof, and Bruce returns from the dead.
Bruce returns, and learns about Spoiler’s successful proxy-training, about the Hit List, about the son he had for a matter of months being emancipated and becoming the new CEO of his company, about no one taking Tim seriously when he said that Bruce wasn’t dead, about Tim refusing to listen, not stopping until he had proven himself right.
There is a squirming in Bruce’s gut, where pride and uncertainty war with each other. His mind says he’d expect nothing less from a boy trained by him, from a Robin whose detective skills are nearly a superpower on their own. In terms of deduction, Red Robin is the best of them, and it feels right that his crowning achievement was proving his mentor was alive against all odds.
Bruce knows, tries to know, that he cannot fault Tim for adding a League-trained child to his Hit List. Knows, tries to know, that he shouldn't feel prickles of unease at Tim so neatly and quickly taking hold of a long-established company as an emancipated minor. Knows that all of Tim's actions are a product of what Batman had taught him. Paranoia and efficiency.
But–
Datapoint -
In the aftermath of Bruce’s return from “death”, Tim pulls away.
Red Robin does not sit on his laurels for being proven right, for successfully saving Batman. He doesn’t return to the home they’d started tentatively building in the manor before Bruce’s death. He shifts into shadow, is gone. Like all he was worth was his actions. Like all he was good for was what he could do for Batman. And that afterwards, there was no more use for him, no more reason for him to stay around.
It is then, so damnably late, that Bruce notices. Thinks about all the datapoints that came before, from their first meeting onwards. The ruthless efficiency and persistent independence of Tim Drake. A boy who measured the worth of his life by Robin’s weight. Who then had Robin taken away and given to a child he saw as a threat. Who then had his brother dismiss him and threaten to have him committed. The mooring lines that should connect Tim to the Wayne family are slack. Either tied too loose, or cut away entirely.
It takes returning from the dead for Bruce to really think about who Tim is, who he has always been. To finally reflect on all the little actions and occurrences that should have flagged Batman was missing something critical with his third Robin.
And then Tim almost kills Boomerang, and Bruce realizes it is a present problem, not a past one. A last, damning datapoint that drives home how starkly Bruce has failed Tim Drake.
The final analysis of the data is this: Tim is the most like Bruce of any of the Robins, but he was not raised by Bruce. Trained, but not raised. Tim is Bruce without Alfred, without a constant, steadying older presence who can always be counted on. He is Bruce without the manor, a single home that holds memories and weight and love and can always be returned to, even if it has to be repaired or rebuilt. He is Bruce without the memory of love to cling to. Tim's childhood is marked by parents absent by choice and not tragedy. His Father's love eventually emerged, but as a barbed thing, as liable to hurt as to protect, and any true resolution between them was cut short by murder.
Tim is Bruce without the core things that kept Bruce sane, that gave him his foundational ideals and moral stance.
And Bruce has missed nearly every opportunity to to do anything about it.
***
The decision is made out of necessity.
Batman realizes, too late, that he needs contingencies for Red Robin.
Bruce realizes, too late, that he can’t create contingencies for Tim.
There are three reasons for this.
- One: Tim will find them.
Red Robin, clever and tenacious and shadow-wreathed, will find any contingencies stored in any of Bruce’s technology. And there is every chance that Tim would be able to hide his tracks well enough that Bruce would never know the plans had been found.
Keeping the contingencies on paper, or in his own mind, is one barrier to discovery. But even that is damnably fallible. Because Bruce is certain, positive, that Tim has mapped out exactly what avenues Bruce- Batman -might use to take him down.
- Two: Tim has likely already developed counter-contingencies against ally betrayal
Bruce has no proof, but he is absolutely certain that Tim has deduced all likely scenarios of Batman and/or others trying to take down Red Robin, and has already developed plans to counter all of them. The certainty is born of the sobering realization of how many of Bruce's 'tests' required Tim to be tricked by people he trusted. Bruce knows that Tim is prepared for anyone to betray him at an time. Because that's how Batman trained him.
And if somehow, Red Robin didn't have counter-contingencies before Bruce's "death", he definitely made them during that time he thought Nightwing was trying to get him committed to Arkham.
In terms of countering his counters– Yes, Bruce has experience on his side, but experience is a double-edged sword. Knowing what is likely to happen can trap you into expectations, prevent you from seeing novel possibilities. It-always-goes-this-way-so-it-will-go-this-way-again. True, maybe 7/10 times. But those other 3 times - experience can be chains, stymieing your ability to react to a situation that has gone differently than expected. Even contingencies will fall prey to pattern when you’ve made enough of them, when you think experience allows you to map every pathway. Experience leaves well-trodden paths in the mind, that are easily guessable to those who know you.
This is the issue– In his age, Bruce knows he cannot force himself to think outside of the box. He will inevitably fall into pattern, into predictability, and Tim will guess what he will do. Bruce can predict what Tim might do, but Tim is young, flexible, adaptable. And Tim has already proven, solidly, his ability to not let what should be and what has always been constrain his analysis and actions. Tim will have a much easier time guessing what Bruce might do than Bruce would have guessing what Tim might do. It is not a given thing, because Tim is young and experience does count for something, but the possibility of Tim predicting any pre-planned contingency and counter-contingency Bruce could make is too high to be dismissed.
So. The best plan, the best contingency, is to react as it happens. If Tim becomes compromised, Bruce will have to act on the fly, and hope that it's out of character enough to catch Tim off guard. If Bruce authentically has nothing prepared, then Tim can't prepare anything to counter the preparations. The advantage Bruce will have, in that moment, is Tim not expecting Bruce to not have a plan. Tim is flexible, but he knows Batman is not.
Those are the pessimistic reasons to not create contingencies. The ones with an edge of cruelty, in how they see the boy Bruce should have paid more attention to.
And then, there is the hope.
- Three: Tim trusting them again
Bruce has failed Tim Drake. He can see that with stark and damning clarity. But this, that honesty Tim saw in his face– maybe that can be the start of repairing the damage that's been done. Maybe Tim knowing there are no contingencies against him will help bring him back to the family he never fully got to be a part of.
And there is some basis in that hope. Dick’s betrayal was what stung Tim the worst, but Dick was not on Tim’s Hit List. Perhaps Bruce taking this first step to rebuild trust will be enough to start to soften the walls that Tim has built around himself. To possibly prevent the continual build up of darkness around a boy who, if Bruce is being honest with himself, was always steeped in it.
And so, that is the ugly, unsaid truth. Not having contingencies for Red Robin is the contingency. Because Bruce has let it go on for too long. Has let Tim grow into something terrifyingly familiar - a mini-Bruce, without Alfred’s steadying influence, without sons to force him to do better. Two brothers he has been betrayed by and one brother he has betrayed.
Now, all Bruce has is hope. Hope that he caught it in time to keep Tim from being lost to shadow entirely.
Hope, that Tim never, ever guesses the untruth never spoken.