Chapter Text
Tim wakes up floating in some kind of thick and viscous liquid where it doesn't matter whether his eyes are open or closed. He can feel this same fluid invading his throat and nostrils, leaving him unable to take in any air; something that would be a problem if he still needed to breath. Instead, he's able to take in whatever substance this is just as easily as the typical Gotham smog.
If anything, it feels more natural than breathing in air.
Comfortable but unfamiliar.
He quickly shakes off the feeling of complacency that seems to haven taken a hold of him and tries to think back to the last thing he can remember. The most recent memory that comes to his mind is of pain. An all consuming and visceral pain of his body rending itself apart from the inside out, but he can't seem to recall anything leading up to it. Which is concerning to say the least considering the last time he felt any kind of pain after his death and consequent resurrection had been when he stuck his hand outside of the border.
What he does know is that there had been an attack by the League just like he anticipated, Dick had made a call for his assistance which he responded to, Damian threw a knife at him.
And then…
Then his mind goes blank.
Something must have gone wrong, that much he's certain of looking at the fact that he's… wherever he is rather than meticulously managing the situation to make sure that nothing unanticipated happens.
Like the unanticipated circumstance currently finds himself in.
It takes him a few seconds of (breathing?) to keep from panicking at his lack of information and focus on the problem at hand. While he wants nothing more than to go through everything he remembers and attempt to piece together where things went wrong, his priority is to get out of this liquid and take stock of his surroundings.
Looking at the situation from an objective standpoint; his first thought is that perhaps Ra's managed to get a hold of his body and threw it into a pit, but that would mean leaving Gotham.
Which he has learned the hard way doesn't work; although that lingering twinge of pain that he couldn't shake from his memory is still there…
However, another point against this argument is that the water isn't a violent neon green that looks like something Joker would pour into Gotham Bay.
Clearing these thoughts from his mind, he feels around more until his hand connects with a sort of membrane like barrier. Testing it with a light push, Tim is rewarded as the material gives and eventually tears in his grasp causing both himself and the fluid around him to rush out with the sudden release of his odd constraints.
The change from mystery liquid to air and cold stone floor is more jarring than he was expecting and his body immediately begins to shake from abrupt shift in environments.
"You recovered sooner than I had anticipated." A familiar inhuman voice greats as spindly bone-like appendages (fingers?) begin to softly thread through his wet and matted hair.
"Wha-' Tim chokes on his words as the ichor he had previously been breathing in makes itself known once more, and he's thrown into a violent coughing fit in an attempt to expel it from his lungs (huh, he didn't know those still worked). With his body hunched over as he spews the black liquid on the floor, he's able to make out the same etchings on the floor below him as the other times he has met with Gotham.
Meaning he was back in the cave.
After a few moments of sputtering, he's eventually able to clean out his system enough to speak without having to spit up more of the substance he now recognizes as the same one that has replaced his blood.
The compound similar to electrum.
Clearly, something happened with his body.
Likely something bad if the shaking and coughing were anything to go off of as he distinctly remembers being able to speak without the need to breathe and losing most of nervous system responses that would cause violent shivers like this after dying.
"I can change it back if you would like. I simply thought returning your old systems might bring you more comfort." Is the response he gets from the entity known as Gotham, despite having never asked any questions aloud.
"Old systems?" He asks still reeling on behalf of his escape from the weird bubble Gotham had apparently put him in.
"I've been taking it upon myself to study human biology more in the hopes of improving your vessel. Did you not find it odd how over time you were able to regain access to more of your previous facilities?"
And as he thinks back, Tim realizes that Gotham is absolutely correct. In the beginning he hadn't even been able to cry and the only organ that seemed to be functioning correctly had been his heart steadily beating in his chest. Then, at some point, he was able to eat, drink, cry, and everything that came along with those processes. It really was something that he should have noticed before now, but between everything going on with the bats and all of his plans it must have slipped past him.
"Thank you." He responds sincerely, not having expected the god to go so far for him. Especially when they have nothing to gain by doing so, considering the fact that he already owes his life to Gotham.
"There is no need to thank me for restoring functions you should have had access to from the beginning." The god responds, stilling their hand for a second; and if he were to assign an emotion to their voice, Tim would almost say that they sounded concerned.
"Well, uh. Thanks anyways. Especially since I can obviously live without them." He acknowledges taking a moment to clear his throat before continuing, "But what happened? Why am I back here?"
It was the one thing he still didn't understand.
If Gotham has been "improving his design" from a distance this whole time, then what was the point of bringing him back down here? What had he been in that sack for?
"I was afraid that those memories wouldn't carry over with the way our connection was severed." The voice responds with a puff of air akin to a sigh. "One of your well-meaning friends seemed to have forgotten the constraints of our deal and took your body fully beyond the border. He immediately brought it back but by then all of my work was undone and it was easier to simply start over from scratch."
Well, that answered one of his questions only to bring up about twenty more.
Why would Kon take him outside of Gotham?
Even if it was an accident what could have been his reasoning for doing so?
Was their planned meeting spot compromised in some way?
Had they been attacked and Kon panicked?
Just what exactly happened?
And then there was the fact that Gotham had to "start from scratch" with his body.
What does that mean?
Was that why he was in the cocoon?
"I can provide you with the answers to your latter questions." Gotham responds, startling Tim out of his thoughts once more.
"The magic I had placed upon your prior body broke when it crossed the border, causing it to revert back into the state it would have been in without my intervention. Unfortunately, this meant that it was so broken and decayed that I figured it would be best to reconstruct your organic matter myself. It should be the same as your previous vessel but please let me know if there is anything that needs changing."
Tim completely stills as soon as the words register to him and unconsciously turns to face the person talking to him.
Except it isn't a person.
Rather than the face of a human staring back at him, Tim is met with the skull of what looks to be a wolf or some other kind of canine animal. Looking into the eye sockets he finds nothing behind them but a black swirling void.
The rest of Gotham's body is shrouded in an opaque black mist covering most of their midsection, but a skeletal humanoid hand slips out from the edge of the fog (in Tim can only describe as a sleeve) and is currently resting on his head. Their legs are mostly obscured but likewise appear to be skeletal. Unlike the hands, however, they seem to be deer-like in nature bending backwards at the knee with a hoof on the end.
It's bizarre and should be terrifying.
Yet Tim finds that their appearance doesn't actually bother him much.
If anything, it's a reassuring sight.
Gotham originally claimed to be an amalgamation of souls due to the ritual that formed them, so it makes sense that their physical body would reflect that.
"My apologies if this form is unsettling to you. I haven't been able to take on a physical manifestation in quite some time with how weak I had become."
"No, no, not a all. I think it's… fitting." Tim replies, reassuring the eldritch being.
An action that may seem odd to others, but from what he knows of gods it probably has feelings so…
Yeah.
Although, that does remind him of the fact that he was meant to be restoring Gotham and has instead been taking personal revenge on the bats. Also known as the people who have built their lives around protecting the city he was indebted to.
Who will now have a difficult time doing their jobs if everything went to plan.
Thus, making the city worse...
Meaning Tim failed at one job because he decided to be selfish for once instead of doing the mission like he was meant to and-
"My Sparrow. If I had taken issue with any of your actions, I would have made you aware. You act as if you had completely forsaken the city while carrying out your plans, when you were in fact out putting away criminals at an unprecedented rate. The bats are a loss, but that loss is not on you. They made their choices and you returned the favor to them. You are my knight, and they hurt you. If I were able to, I would have dealt with them myself. But I have my own restrictions as you know."
And that… was not the response Tim had expected.
Rather, he assumed Gotham was going to reprimand him.
Take away some of his privileges.
Restrict him for doing something that could potentially harm the city.
Instead, he gets…
Praise?
Acceptance?
Agreement?
"In fact, your actions have rallied the people together in way I haven't seen in a very long time. Even those who typically cause harm, seem to have come to a temporary truce due to your death. For now, the crime has basically stopped. The rogues who do cause trouble are being taken out by the ones who joined in on mourning the fallen vigilante they had fought against for years and had come to respect. Right now, I am the most powerful I have been in a very long time thanks to you."
It's undeniably good news, yet all Tim can do in response is stare.
He doesn't understand.
How could his death have caused all of…
That.
Yes.
He had expected people to no longer trust the bats, but the rogues acting out as well?
They hadn't even done that when Jason died, and he had just been a kid (technically Tim is also a kid).
"You are much more important than you think you are little bird."
Important.
That was something he hasn't truly felt since he first became Robin and lead a team of his own.
Important.
Back when he wore the red, green, and yellow and beat up criminals with a quip and a smile.
Important.
Before he lost the trust of his team due to Batman's rules and they replaced him as their leader.
Important.
Before the people he gave his life to betrayed him in a thousand different ways.
Important
Before everyone he ever loved either died or thought he was crazy.
Important.
Maybe he can become important again.
Maybe he has always been important.
Either way, he'll have to shelf that internal debate for later, right alongside the identity crisis he has planned over the fact that his body was literally remade.
That and the fact that apparently his old dead body is just out there.
Somewhere.
God how long has it been?
Last time he touched the border he had been out for days, how many of his plans have already been messed up just from his absence alone? At least Babs should have gotten his files and put most of his contingencies into action, but that still left a lot of ground uncovered.
"I believe your reformation took around a week to preform even in my restored state. Of course, it also helped that your friends prayed to me for your recovery, thus giving me more power and aiding the process further. However, before you leave, I have a proposition for you."
"Go on." He urges, although he can't help but be apprehensive at this development. Gotham has only been helpful so far, but he's seen how fast both people and entities can turn on those closest to them.
"Right now, you are my Knight. Your duties are to guard the city and protect it from harm, as such you are unable to leave its confines. However, religion doesn't grow from being stagnant in one area. Despite what you may think, you have already done much for me. Eternal loyalty is not to be taken lightly, and you have proven yourself to be the person I believed you to be and more. It is also clear to me that you care for your friends who live outside of city. Therefore, I would like to offer you the position as my Bishop."
"Bishop?" Tim echoes in confusion, his first thought going to the chess piece rather than any religious connotations.
"Or perhaps missionary might be a better term for it now. It is a position that will allow you to leave the city as my representative, but as my emissary your appearance will reflect that."
"My appearance?"
"You will no longer look human once you set foot outside of the city and will gain a more in-depth connection with the city. I would explain further but the transformation is typically unique to the individual and the circumstances around which they came to the position. Your duties will be much the same, protect the city and its residents. The stipulations for this position are that the longer you spend away from the city, the more… uncomfortable things will be for you. A feeling I believe you are already familiar with as it is much the same when you spend time outside of the field as my Knight. You also won't be able to heal as fast outside of borders, but one way to counter this is if your friends pray to me as they did before."
Once again, it was a deal that favored Tim by a large margin.
Again, it confused him.
"I'm guessing this wasn't an option before because of how weak you had become?"
"That and because I wanted to ensure I had chosen correctly"
He sighs staring into the empty sockets of the being before him.
The fact he can't go beyond the city borders has already proven to be quite a bother even in the short time he has been revived.
To be able to leave would be…
Nice.
Besides if Gotham does turn out to have ulterior motives, he'll deal with it when the time comes.
Worst comes to worst and he'll go back to being dead.
"Very well. Do what you must." He relents, bowing his head to the god who had not only given him a purpose in life, but also brought him back from the dead.
Gotham moves their hand from his head down to his spine in between the shoulder blades. He feels a slight burning sensation where their hand is before they pull away from him completely.
"I've given you my mark as a Bishop. From now on the world outside will be open to you. Fly well my Sparrow."
And between one blink and the next Tim Drake finds himself in some back ally of Gotham City enveloped in black robes similar in fashion to the mist that clothed Gotham. He quickly pulls the hood that his new garments apparently have, over his head and makes his way to the nearest convenience store in the hopes of finding a newspaper to tell him the date and get an idea of what has been happening in his absence before contacting his friends.
As he walks in, he thanks the fact that looking shady is a norm for Gotham and begins to look over the magazine rack only for the first headline he comes across to be,
-BILLIONAIRE BRUCE WANYE'S ADOPTED SON TIM DRAKE FOUND DEAD-