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No no no no no no.
He couldn’t believe this. He couldn’t fucking believe this.
How dare he?! How dare Dick take away the one thing holding him together? Not only that! He stole it from him and then turned around to give Robin to the kid who has done his damned best to fucking kill him since he invaded their lives not so long ago.
How dare he.
Tim pulled at his hair in anger. It took all his control not to head back down to the cave and slice that fucking costume off the brat - he didn’t even care if he hurt him at this point. He did not deserve to wear those colours. Robin was meant to be good. How were the people of Gotham meant to trust a hero who was raised to kill everything around him? How were they meant to adapt to a Robin, someone that was supposed to represent the light to Batman’s darkness, that had fucking katanas strapped to his back?!
He whirled around and angrily swept all his photos off his dresser. The sound of the glass frames breaking was like a physical manifestation of the turmoil within him, and it eased his raging mind a little.
Next he turned to the photos on the wall. The picture of him and Dick laughing at Bruce after he had slipped on a patch of ice taunted him - he would never have that again. Bruce was gone and Dick…Dick had betrayed him, had finally realised Tim wasn’t worth it and replaced him with someone the family had actually chosen.
A guttural cry escaped from his throat as he launched himself at the photo. He ripped it off the wall, and relished in the sound of it breaking against the floor.
The other photos on the wall followed shortly after.
Him, Kon, Bart and Cassie lounging on a sofa, limbs entangled together as they laughed. Smash. Dick’s Robin flying through the Gotham night. Smash. Steph gleefully shouting at him for drawing on her face as she slept. Smash. Tim, Darla and Ives smiling into a camera. Smash. Jason’s Robin comforting a crying child, Batman in the shadows with a small smile visible in the light of the moon. Smash. His parents with their arms around him at a gala. Smash. Him and Dick asleep in one of the manor’s libraries, content in each other’s presence. Smash.
His breathing was heavy as he took in the destruction around him. At some point he must have cut himself as there was a steady stream of blood dripping from his hand onto the carpeted floor.
Not that it meant anything - none of it meant anything anymore. Everyone left him eventually. He didn’t have a place in this family anymore. The brat had taken that from him, just like he had taken his brother.
In his anger, it wasn't just the photos that had been destroyed but the walls as well. There were clear outlines of his fist visible, specks of blood surrounding them.
His eyes caught on the mirror next to his dresser and he stared at himself - the red rimming his eyes as tears slipped out without permission, the paleness of his face enhanced by the bags under his eyes, the blood and bruises now covering his hands, the features he inherited from his parents - and the only thought that came into his mind was how much he hated what he saw.
His eyes, his mother’s eyes, stared back at him. The reflection of a boy without a family, without friends, without Robin. What was the point now? What did he have left to live for? He was alone once again, and he didn’t have the energy to push through the anger and the loneliness and the loss to persevere this time.
Maybe it wasn’t worth the effort anymore. Maybe he just wasn’t worth the effort.
Tim remembered this one time when the usual iciness present in his mother’s eyes thawed when she saw him trying to emulate his father and tie a tie without any assistance. She had laughed in that delicate way of hers that only came out when she was actually amused, not like the sharp laugh other socialites heard at galas, and had kneeled in front of him, reaching out to finish the Windsor knot he had completely messed up in his eagerness. She hadn’t cared that her dress was touching the floor, instead she had only cared about the young boy who longed to be just like his parents, to make them proud. Once finished, she had reached out to smooth the creases on his shirt, leaving her hands on his shoulders and said “I know you’re eager to grow up Timothy, but there is nothing wrong with taking a step back to enjoy life unmoored by responsibilities. There is plenty of time for you to be incredible later on, and you are our son, so I’m certain that is what you will be.”
That was one of his favourite childhood memories, but his mother had been wrong. He had failed to become incredible, he was nothing special and after everything he had failed her.
Tim lunged at the offending piece of glass, the area his face had been now cracked outwards from where he had hit it. There was more blood and glass on the floor, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything anymore.
He took one last look at the room before heading to the window, and then leapt into the rainy night.
————
He made it to the top of of one of the skyscrapers in the Diamond District before deciding he had ran for long enough. The icy rain lashed at his face, seeping into his damaged hands as he stood in the high winds and ignored the fact that he could no longer feel the cold settling in his bones.
He could see Wayne Enterprises from where he stood, but his feet would not take him further. Maybe it was because he no longer had a place in the Wayne family so there was no point taking his final moments in a place represented by those he’d lost. That was also probably the reason why he hadn’t even considered going near Drake Industries.
So instead Tim stood on the ledge of an unnamed building with no one inside and thankfully no one to see him cry.
For someone who had perfected the ability to process emotions only at times convenient to himself from a young age, the amount of feelings that were still suffocating him hours after the initial breakdown was almost impressive. Not that it mattered anymore of course. Nothing did.
But as he listened to the sirens in the night, he couldn’t help but delay the inevitable just a little longer.
Tim moved to settle on the ledge, feet hanging off the side as he took in his city - his home. He supposed it hadn’t all been bad, the bad just so happened to outweigh those lighter moments. He no longer belonged here, even with Bruce gone there were enough Bats to look after the place so its not like he was going to be missed either. Vindictively, he hoped people were faced with Damian as Robin and decided to start miss his Robin then, but knowing his luck, the people of Gotham wouldn’t even care.
Jack and Janet Drake had never been overly religious and neither had Tim, so he had never truly considered what happened after death. But now, as he stared out into the Gotham night, he couldn’t help but hope that there was something waiting for him, some way to gain a part of himself back even if it was in death.
After all, if someone is made up of the love they hold for others and maybe their purpose in life as well, then does he even have anything left inside him right now? Everyone had either died, left, or not wanted him, and then Robin, his purpose, was no longer part of him anymore either. So yes, it would be nice on the other side, if there was an other side, he got something in return - maybe Kon could be there, smirking in that self-satisfied way that Tim always pretended to be annoyed at but deep down enjoyed every second of. Or his mother could be there. And even if she would be disappointed with how he had lived his life, at least he would see her again. Maybe that would make it all worth it.
He thought back to all those he could see if he was lucky - Darla, Kon, Bart, Steph, his mother, his father, Bruce - and it calmed the storm inside him just a little. He loved Dick, always would, he was his brother, so despite him being still very much alive, he mourned him a little as well, it’s not like their relationship was going to make it out of this stormy night anyway.
Tim shuffled a little further off the ledge, it was going against all his instincts to not pull a grapple out from somewhere but the anger from earlier had finally started to release its hold on his heart, and now, all he felt was empty. What other option did he have really? This was the easiest way for everyone to get what they want.
Focused on the drop to the concrete below him, he did not hear the familiar sounds of a grapple releasing somewhere else on the rooftop, nor the heavy footsteps running towards him. It wasn’t until he pushed himself off the ledge and a large hand gripped his arm barely a millisecond into his fall that he even registered someone else was on the roof.
“What the absolute fuck do you think you’re doing Pretender?!” Jason shouted as he pulled him back and threw him away from the ledge, right onto the gravel of the roof.
It took a few moments for his brain to register the situation. And in all honesty he was too tired to care, too tired to feel the usual wariness and anger he felt when he came across his predecessor.
“Take a wild fucking guess Jason,” his voice was flat as he stared at the older boy in his usual Red Hood combat trousers and leather jacket, but for once his signature red helmet was nowhere to be seen.
Jason’s eyes flitted over him, stopping briefly on his bloodied and bruised hands before returning to stare at Tim.
“Wha- wait- just hold on a second,” he ran his hands up and down his face and looked back at him as if hoping this was all in his head, “Preten- Tim, why?”
“Because it’s what’s best for everyone, obviously, and if you want all the reasons, we might be here a while and you’ve got to get back to patrol, so I don’t really see the point in going into detail.”
That should work, he thought to himself, he had given Jason an out - he could report back to the family that he had tried, he had done his one good deed of the month, and then he could move on with his life like everyone else.
“You think I’m just going to go back on patrol and let you kill yourself?!” Jason shouted, staring at Tim in horror.
“Well…yeah? I don’t see why you’re so upset to be honest, you’ve tried to kill me before so is it really such a big deal?”
The older boy gaped at him, before turning his back briefly to Tim and violently kicking the vent nearest to him.
Once he seemed to calm down a little, he turned back to Tim and approached him cautiously.
“Listen, kid, I- I thought you knew that I…I don’t want to kill you anymore. Haven’t for a little whilst if I’m honest, I’m just a coward and didn’t bring it up.”
He squatted down in front of him, looking straight into his eyes, “And I really don’t want you to kill yourself Tim. No more dead Robins yeah?”
Tim scoffed, the anger from earlier rearing its head again, “Well I’m not Robin anymore. So you can stop pretending to care and just leave me alone.”
“What? What do you mean you’re not Robin anymore?”
“Dick decided I was no longer needed and gave it to the fucking Demon Brat instead, as if he hasn’t tried to kill me multiple times as well!” He laughed to himself, “It must be a requirement in this family to try and kill me at some point, but at least it means no one will care when I finally die.”
Over the wind, Tim heard the older boy mutter “…I’m gonna kill him.”
Jason clenched his jaw before taking a deep breath and looking at Tim again, “Look, I have no idea what Dickhead is playing at, but whatever you’re thinking isn’t worth it, isn’t worth you.”
“Give up Jason! I have nothing left don’t you understand that? Everyone around me dies or- or they leave and now I don’t even have Robin! Don’t you get it?! I have nothing left! Nowhere else to go! No one will even miss me so I’m just doing what’s best for everyone.”
His breathing was heavy as he finished shouting, the rain still battering his face and mixing with the tears that had started up again.
There were hands gripping his shoulders, a certain hesitation behind them before they tightened and pulled him into a much larger chest.
He’d always been a silent crier, and this time wasn’t any different. What was different was the quiet reassurances being whispered in his ear as he fell apart at the seams. He wanted to scream, to break things like he had earlier, but the hold he was gripped in was tight enough that he couldn’t have escaped even if he wanted.
He lost track of how much time passed, too busy drowning in his pain, but eventually he began to come back to himself. Jason was rubbing his back in soothing motions, and had now apparently reached the rambling stages of his reassurance.
“…so then I thought to myself ‘damn that was a solid punch’ and I didn’t appreciate it in the moment obviously because I was doing my best to break your bones and your spirit and all that crap y’know. But looking back, I understand why you were Robin and you were a pretty fucking good Robin as well, and I bet you will be good at anything you do so yeah, it sucks now, but I know you’ll get past this because you’re really great kid, it just took me a while to see it.”
“Are…are you trying to comfort me by talking about what went down at the Tower?” His voice was raw and he was still sniffling from his - second? no, third - breakdown of the day, but he did feel a little lighter as he settled into the hug Jason had forced on him. He still didn’t feel great, just a little less…alone, and right now maybe that was as good as it was going to get.
“Oh shit,” Jason tensed next to him, “uh- yeah I didn’t realise you were back with it yet and that was what had come to mind so, um, sorry?”
He huffed a small laugh, “I might have hit you even harder if I wasn’t so distracted by that god awful Robin getup you had on.”
The chest his head still rested against rumbled with laughter, “Yeah I was going for symbolic but that was probably the first sign I wasn’t as mentally stable as I thought back then huh?”
Jason leant back, forcing Tim to look at him again, “Look, Tim, I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through, but I can relate to some of it I think. And I know you’ve lost so much and now with Robin gone it’s like the rug has been pulled out from under you, but please don’t let this be the answer. You still have people - you’ve got the rest of the titans, right? And…and you could have me if you wanted? But, more importantly, Robin isn’t everything you are and there’s always more to life than vigilantism, I learnt that the hard way, and I just really want you to consider every option before this if I’m honest.”
He didn’t respond right away, instead carefully thought over the words he’d heard. Jason wasn’t wrong per se, he knew he hadn’t lost everyone, and if he was honest with himself he might even think that Cassie would drag him back to life if he managed to go through with this. And being Robin forever was never part of the plan, he’d only originally put on the suit to drag Bruce back from the edge, he’d just gotten distracted by the feeling of belonging after a while.
But, before tonight, he’d thought Jason still hated him - was he really okay with risking losing another person again when he eventually remembered that he didn’t like him? He wasn’t sure he could handle that, not again, not on top of everything else. Ending things before they got worse was the safer, more logical option - he couldn’t just reverse that thinking, not when losing Robin had been the final straw in, admittedly, a whole fucking lot of straws, but did Jason have a point? Could he try a different option first? His mother had never liked it when he acted rashly, so she certainly wouldn’t have appreciated what he had attempted to do tonight, and maybe she was right as well? Shit, maybe he should try something else first, if only so his mother wouldn’t scold him if he gets to see her once he dies.
He looked down at his hands, avoiding Jason’s stare, “I- I still don’t think things can get better, not really, but…I think I could be willing to give it a try.”
Jason inhaled sharply, but Tim interrupted before he could say anything, “If I try and things don’t get better, I will make sure you have no way of stopping me again, understand? There’s only so much I can handle and losing Robin just happened to be where I reached my limit, everything else before that doesn’t just magically disappear because you’re suddenly in my corner okay?”
“Shit kid,” Jason pulled him back into a hug, “okay, I get that this is as close to a win as I’m going to get for now, but you best believe that ‘no more dead Robins’ doesn’t stop applying to you just because you no longer wear the colours, and I will do everything in my power to make you understand that as well.”
He held him there for a few moments longer before standing up, dragging Tim with him, “Now you’ve been in this rain for God knows how long and we haven’t gone through all this just for you to get pneumonia and die, so let’s head back to mine yeah?”
He nodded and let the older boy guide him towards the emergency exit on the roof, apparently not ready to use his grapple and take Tim that faster way down just yet. And as he soaked up the warmth from his…brother? yes, brother…the ice in his chest thawed a little and he hoped that would be enough to make him feel better in the long run.