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Jason was back, which was fantastic.
Well, he wasn’t back back, not really. The Red Hood was collaborating with the Bats on some missions now. He hadn’t killed anyone (that Tim knew of, anyway) in almost six weeks, per Batman’s terms. He hadn’t tried to kill Tim in almost six months.
He also hadn’t been to the Manor yet, refused to take off his helmet even during team debriefs on rooftops, rejected all of Dick’s attempts at physical contact, and called Tim “Replacement” with the kind of vitriol Tim had otherwise only ever heard him direct at the worst criminals in Gotham.
Tim saw all of this, and he also saw how Dick slumped every time his little brother stepped away from one of his hugs, how Bruce’s jaw went tight every time they returned to the Batcave without Jason, how Alfred wiped away tears — quickly, like he hoped no one had noticed — when Jason didn’t show up for brunch, again.
Tim saw all of this, and he put two and two together (he was good at that), and he came to the obvious conclusion.
Jason was back, which meant it was time for Tim to leave.
+++
Once he’d made the decision, the rest was surprisingly easy. Tim spent two days making sure all his cases were fully up to date, that anyone who came after him would have everything they needed. He spent another week quietly selling Drake Manor (after his dad died it had passed to him but Tim would crawl over broken glass before moving back into that house), buying a small, neat apartment in Gotham proper, and slowly moving the things that had collected in his — in the guest room at Wayne Manor to his new place.
He’d been worried about this part — one thing no one told you about living with a family of detectives was that it could be extremely hard maintaining privacy — but no one seemed to notice. In their defense, Tim could be also pretty sneaky when he wanted to be. He’d had years of practice following Batman and Robin through Gotham, all unnoticed.
He barely even noticed the ache of no one asking him what he was doing, or checking in on him in his room. He’d had years of practice in that, too.
Still, when he dropped the last bag of clothes on his new, grey bed in his new, grey apartment in a new, grey part of Gotham, he could admit to feeling a bit morose. No more of Alfred’s cooking. No more hugs from Dick. No more movie nights where Bruce pretended to be engaged in a case but was watching Star Wars out of the corner of his eye and chuckling quietly at the fight scenes.
Focus, Tim. He had always known he would be temporary: a placeholder Robin until Bruce could get back on his feet after Jason’s death, could stop being a danger to himself and others, could be the Batman Gotham needed once again. Tim had always figured he would phase himself out sometime in the future, maybe still come around for dinner sometimes — in his wildest, most closely-held fantasies, Batman even let him patrol with him sometimes, even once he was no longer Robin.
But that had been before Jason came back.
Which honestly hadn’t even been on Tim’s radar but was in many ways the ultimate success of his original plan, wasn’t it? Jason had died, Bruce had spiraled, Dick had distanced himself, Tim had stepped in — and now Jason was back, Bruce and Dick were on good terms again, and Tim was in the way.
Sure, Bruce had officially adopted him after his dad died, but Tim wasn’t naive enough to think that had been anything more than a way to make sure Tim didn’t get stuck in the foster care system with a family that would find out his secrets. At that point, Tim had still been useful to Bruce, so of course Bruce had protected his assets. It hadn’t meant anything.
Even if it had, Tim’s biological parents had been perfectly happy to live on separate continents from Tim eleven months out of the year. Bruce was probably wondering why it was taking Tim so long to move out so he could finally have quality time with his real family. Tim felt embarrassment curl in his stomach at the thought of everyone else in the Manor wondering when he would finally get the memo and clear out.
It was fine though. He had caught up, he had realized his mistake. And now he would do what he did best: fix it. By removing himself from the situation. Nothing to cry about.
Still, he decided he’d give himself one more night on patrol with Batman, after one more of Alfred’s incredible dinners. Tim knew what he had to do, but he was also only human, and a selfish one at that. He’d take one more night for himself, fix everything he could in his memory, maybe even do well enough that he could earn one of those magical half-hugs from B —
And then he would let them know that he was stepping back, that he wouldn’t be in their way anymore, and that Jason could come home.
+++
It was supposed to be an easy one.
Damn it, it was supposed to be easy! Nightwing had said as much when he called Jason in, saying Hood’s presence would really only be needed if things went really wrong, so if he could just be on standby that would be great. Jason did not love playing backup to a bunch of birds and bats, but he figured that an easy stakeout wouldn’t be the worst way to spend a Friday night.
He was tired, ok? It had been a long week.
The week just kept getting longer as Jason watched dozens more goons than they’d planned for spilling out of the warehouse, heard his comms crackle to life with Nightwing’s panicked tones and Batman’s terse orders, shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, and dove in. The ensuing fight was messy and smelly (why did criminals always head for the sewers in this city?) and would have been over so much faster if Jason could just kill people.
As it was, he found himself tying up unconscious thugs and hoisting them into a neat pile on a rooftop for the commissioner to find, like some kind of law-abiding baby. Nightwing and Batman had broken off to follow two other groups — over the comms, they sounded tired but satisfied. Unfortunately, that left —
“Watch it, Replacement,” Jason growled, and bumped him, hard, in the back.
The Replacement stumbled forward as Jason pushed past him, almost tripping over the henchman he was currently trussing up like a holiday turkey. He half-turned to glare at Jason.
“Watch it yourself, Hood,” he replied. That in itself wasn’t unusual. The Replacement had picked up the classic Robin banter like it was as easy as breathing.
What was unusual was the Replacement’s tone. Instead of chirpy and aggravating, it was sullen and aggravating. Come to think of it, the kid had been decidedly less vivacious for over a week now. Was the Replacement getting enough sleep?
Jason threw another unconscious criminal on the pile and turned around to see the Replacement putting the finishing touches on the last one. The kid’s back was toward him, and Jason just couldn’t resist.
“Boo,” he said softly, right into the Replacement’s ear, and the kid practically flew away from him. Jason chuckled – which, he knew, sounded extremely menacing through the voice distorter on his helmet.
“Looks like I’m not the one who needs to work on watching his back,” he growled, and the Replacement flushed under his domino mask. Jason saw the kid’s fists clench – good, the green purred, this was the fight he was looking for.
In the next moment, though, the fists fell away and the Replacement himself kind of – sagged. Like a tired puppet, strings cut, show over. He shook his head and turned around again, clearly dismissing Jason from his attention. Like Jason wasn’t worth his attention.
Oh, this would not do at all.
“Replacement,” Jason barked, and the kid tensed again. He turned slowly, warily. Jason stalked forward. “You’re acting fucking weird,” he rumbled. “What gives?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the kid said primly, and neatly avoided Jason’s glare by jumping off the roof.
Jason caught up to him two roofs later and cornered him against a huge HVAC system.
“You’re not getting away that easily,” he growled, and took a bit of vicious pleasure in watching the Replacement squirm. “Spit it out, Replacement.”
“There’s nothing to spit,” spat the kid, and tried to push Jason out of his space which was just. It was actually kind of adorable, how little it worked.
Jason chuckled. “God, you’re weak. Why on earth does the big man even keep you around?”
The kid stiffened. “Go fuck yourself, Hood,” he mumbled, and jumped off the roof again.
When Jason caught up to him the second time – five roofs later, the kid was weak but he could move, Jason would give him that – the Replacement seemed exhausted. He didn’t even try to posture or fight back when Jason grabbed him by the front of his traffic light costume and shoved him up against a brick wall.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded.
“Why do you care?” the Replacement shot back, and ok, that was a fair question, Jason wasn’t actually sure why he cared so much, except –
“I don’t like it when people keep things from me,” he responded. “And you’ve been acting weird all week, you little turd. I want to know why.”
At that, the kid’s face – sort of spasmed, under the domino mask. Jason couldn’t tell what emotions were there, lightning quick and then gone again, but there were a lot of them. The kid’s mouth settled in a thin, grim line.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” said the Replacement clearly. “You won’t be seeing me again after tonight.”
Ok.
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
+++
Hood was acting weird.
Which was to say, he was acting like he cared about Tim, when he obviously didn’t. He must have had an ulterior motive, but Tim hadn’t messed up any cases (he didn’t think...oh god, had he? No, he definitely hadn’t), he hadn’t infringed on Hood’s turf, he’d barely even seen the drug lord except in passing on a few patrols. So what was this about?
Hood’s hands, already tight on the fabric at Tim’s throat, clenched even tighter. The formless red helmet cocked to the side.
“What?” came Hood’s voice, crackly through the voice distorter. It was a far cry from the cheery, bright chirps of the second Robin, of Tim’s childhood hero. That was good. That sometimes made it slightly easier for Tim to pretend they weren’t the same person.
“I said,” Tim said carefully, trying to retain some semblance of coolness when the man who had slit his throat less than six months ago was once again extremely close to said throat. “You won’t be seeing me again after tonight. This is my last patrol. I’ll be gone. For good,” he added, in case there was any confusion. “You won’t have to worry about me keeping things from you ever again.”
There, that should make him happy. Tim was half-expecting Hood to just up and leave right then, high-tail it back to the Manor and be welcomed back with open arms (hopefully distracting everyone enough that Tim could sneak in and grab his street clothes without causing a scene).
He was not expecting Hood’s grip to tighten even more, then to release so suddenly that Tim slid down the side of the HVAC unit and collapsed in an ungainly heap on the ground. He stared up at Hood, wondering what came next in this strange little dance. Hood took a single, deliberate step back.
“Ever again?” Hood repeated.
Tim swallowed hard and nodded. That was what he had decided. It was the right call for everyone.
Well, except Tim himself, but he would be fine. He always was.
“Why?” Hood asked. His tone through the voice distorter was level, like he was inquiring about the weather. Tim did his best to answer in the same way.
“I’m no longer needed as Robin,” he said. “B is doing well, Nightwing’s back in touch. I don’t contribute anything besides being a placeholder for – you know,” he said, suddenly aware that he needed to be careful what he revealed. There were always ears in the darkness, in Gotham. “And, well, you’re – back,” he finished, gesturing lamely at Hood. “I’m done.”
“You’re – done?” Hood echoed. “Like, with B? With the whole family?”
Tim nodded. “Yeah. Once I’m done with Robin, I know B won’t want me around anymore, which makes sense.”
“What?” Hood said again. He was asking a lot of questions. Tim had thought Jason was smarter than this. “What do you mean, B won’t want you around anymore?”
“I mean,” Tim explained impatiently. “I’m not his son. Not like – like the first two Robins.” Hood twitched, but didn’t say anything. “Once I’m not Robin anymore, I’m no more use to him. I accept that once I’m done, I’m done.”
“Do you want to be?” Hood shook his head, as if to clear it. “Done, I mean.”
Tim was suddenly exhausted. He was leaving, wasn’t he? He was doing the best thing for everyone. Did he have to also pretend like he wanted it?
“Not really,” he snapped back. “But I know it’s what I should do. And I’ll be fine,” he added, knowing that Hood wasn’t worried for him but just needing to say it. To reassure himself. “It’ll all be fine. Once I do it, nothing else will matter.”
+++
Fuck, fuck, fuck, the kid was going to kill himself and it – well it wasn’t Jason’s fault, if anything it was Bruce’s fault because how emotionally constipated did you have to be to make the kid you’ve been raising for the past three years think you don’t even want him around, but the kid was telling Jason about it now, which definitely made it Jason’s problem.
“Do you have a plan?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice level. That was always the question, wasn’t it, to see if potential suicide victims had a plan, tools, a timeline, etc.
The Replacement looked at him scornfully. “Of course I have a plan. Do you think I would just leave this kind of thing to chance?”
“Right,” Jason said sharply, making up his mind. “Let’s go.”
“What? Go where? Jason put me down!” That last was because Jason had scooped the Replacement up under one arm and jumped off the roof.
Ok, maybe the whole roof thing ran in the family.
+++
This was not going according to plan. The last thing Tim had wanted to do was make a big deal out of all this, and now Hood was doing exactly that. Tim supposed it shouldn’t have come as a huge surprise that Jason was going to mess up this plan, just like he’d messed up Tim’s plan to be Robin for a few more years and also have a whole and unscarred throat, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be grumpy about it.
Hood had practically manhandled him onto his bike and was now speeding back towards the Manor. Tim couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the wind whipping by his ears, but he saw Jason’s hand go up to his ear briefly and guessed that Hood was communicating with someone. Hopefully not Bruce. This could all still end up just fine, with minimal awkwardness all around, if only Bruce wasn’t in the Batcave when they got there.
They pulled into the Batcave just as Bruce climbed out of the Batmobile.
“Jason!” he exclaimed, ripping off the cowl as he strode towards them. “What’s happening? Are you safe?”
“Can it, old man,” Jason said angrily. He leapt off the motorcycle and ripped off his red helmet. Bruce stopped abruptly and pulled in a sharp breath – Tim thought this might be the first time Bruce had seen Jason’s face since he’d come back to life. It was doing complicated things to the older man’s face – not real expressions, obviously, but about as much as Bruce ever emoted. Tim looked away. He felt abruptly, sharply, like an intruder.
Jason was still talking. “You’ve got a lot to make up for, but don’t say anything until we’re all on the same page. Replacement,” he said sharply, and Tim whipped his head back toward Jason. Then he swallowed, hard.
Jason’s eyes were glowing green.
“Talk,” Jason growled, and stepped back.
Bruce turned to Tim, the oddly tender expression on his face quickly replaced with the look of measured concern he usually gave Tim after a patrol gone wrong. “Tim?” he prompted.
Tim kept himself from squirming with a supreme force of will. Just another report, he told himself sternly. Robin reporting to Batman.
“I’ve concluded that this will be my last patrol as Robin,” he said crisply. Never let it be said that Tim Drake didn’t know how to give an effective presentation. “I will return my uniform and tools and will make sure to clean out my locker so that it can be used by someone else immediately. All of my case files are closed or up to date. Thank you very much for this opportunity, and for the experiences of the last three years. It has been an honor to work alongside you.”
Too much? Tim thought nervously as he watched Bruce’s face. Bruce’s eyes had widened slightly at Tim’s first statement, then narrowed. Now he was just watching Tim out of narrowed, stony eyes.
“You’re giving up Robin?” Bruce asked slowly. Tim nodded, once, sharp. “This is what you want?” Bruce asked, still slowly. Tim hesitated, then nodded again. It would be better for everyone if it seemed like it was his choice.
“Well,” Bruce said, clearly struggling with something but unwilling to let it show in his face. “If that’s what you want...”
“No,” Jason said urgently. Tim flicked his gaze to the other boy. Jason was staring back at him, wide-eyed. “Tell him, Tim,” he said, still with that odd, urgent tone. “Tell him what you told me.”
Of course, Tim thought bitterly. Hood wouldn’t want to make this easy for him. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Turned back to Bruce.
“No,” he said clearly. “It’s not what I want, but I know it’s the right thing to do. Again, I appreciate all the time you have spent mentoring me, and I hope we can keep in touch going forward –”
Jason made a strangled sound somewhere between a groan and a screech. “Not that, you idiot!” he yelled. “Tell him the part about how you’re going to kill yourself because you think he doesn’t want you around anymore!”
“What?” Tim and Bruce spoke in unison. “I didn’t –” Tim started, at the same time as Bruce said: “Tim, what –”
“I’m not going to kill myself,” Tim said in a wild rush, talking over Bruce. “What the fuck, Jason?”
“Don’t you what the fuck me,” Jason growled. His eyes were still wide but the confusion and desperation in them were rapidly being replaced with anger. “You were going on and on about how I won’t be hearing from you again after tonight, and how you won’t cause any more trouble ever again, and now that Batman’s done with you, you have no more reason to be part of the family, what the fuck was I supposed to think?”
“I’m moving out,” Tim said loudly. “I got my own place, I’m not going to be Robin anymore, but that’s it!”
Bruce let out a deep breath. It wavered a little at the end. Tim felt his own heart stutter.
“I’m sorry,” he said, low, suddenly embarrassed. So much for a clean exit. “I really didn’t mean to – to worry anyone. I just – yeah,” he finished tiredly. “I’m just giving up Robin and moving out, so no one has to worry about me, ok? I’ll be fine.”
Jason still looked angry, but the outrage in his eyes had shifted to something a bit more like...sadness?
Bruce just looked baffled. “Tim, I’m so, so glad to know that you’re not thinking about killing yourself,” he said slowly. “But I’m still confused. Why are you giving up Robin if you don’t want to? And why are you moving out?”
Huh. Tim had thought this part, at least, would be obvious. Maybe Bruce wanted to hear him explain it, so he knew they were all on the same page?
“I became Robin to help you survive after Jason’s death,” Tim said steadily. “Now that Jason is back, not only am I no longer necessary, I am actively standing in the way of your family’s happiness. Jason resents me for taking his place and resents you for giving it to me, however misguided that resentment is. I know that you never considered me a son,” Tim hurried to reassure Bruce. He didn’t want Bruce to think that he, Tim, had ever had any confusion about their professional relationship. “But I certainly understand the optics. Once I bow out, the problem will be solved and Jason can come home.”
He was going to say more, but Jason laughed. It was an ugly, unexpected sound.
“Yeah, right,” he snorted. Tim glanced at him. Jason’s face was twisted with hurt. He was clearly trying to disguise it as fury. “Like B will let me back in the Manor after everything I’ve done. Try again, Replacement –”
“Jason.” Bruce’s voice was shaky. “What do you mean? Of course you can come back to the Manor.
Jason scoffed again. “After the duffel bag? Give me a break, Bruce. And even if I did come back, you’d be watching me like a fucking hawk and the minute I slipped up, used too much force or whatever, I’d be right back on the street –”
“Jason,” Bruce said again, more urgently this time. “I would love nothing more than if you came home. Anything – anything else, we can figure out later.”
“You – but – but I –” Jason was shaking his head slightly, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“You are my son,” Bruce said, a desperate edge to his voice. He looked constipated. This is probably the most emotionally vulnerable he’s been in decades, Tim thought dispassionately and had to fight a sudden, wild urge to laugh. Or cry. He couldn’t tell which. “You are my son and you will always, always be welcome in my house. It’s your house too. Nothing will ever change that.”
“Really?” Jason said, his voice suddenly small.
“Yes,” Bruce said, and, after only a moment’s hesitation, opened his arms. After only a moment’s hesitation Jason fell into them, a magnet clicking home.
The moment stretched. Tim swallowed hard around the childish lump in his throat. He held himself together tightly. He turned around — he shouldn’t be here, this wasn’t for him, it was time — and started walking out of the cave.
+++
Footsteps — light and slow — started heading away from them and Jason pulled back from Bruce to see Tim walking toward the cave exit. His back was very straight and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his coat.
“Nope,” Jason said, popping the “p.” “Not so fast, kid.”
He pulled away from Bruce and grabbed Tim’s upper arm. Tim froze, but did not turn back around.
“Let me go, Jason,” he said, his voice low and pleading. “Please, just let me go.”
“No,” Jason said again, more firmly. He reeled Tim back in until the smaller boy was standing between him and Bruce. Then he grasped Tim’s shoulders. “I need you to listen to me very carefully,” he said slowly. “I fucked up when I attacked you. Both times. It wasn’t right, you didn’t deserve it, and I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you. I’m sorry,” he said again, just in case Tim had missed the first time. “None of this was your fault.”
Tim was looking at him like he’d just sprouted antlers. “Um,” he said, then swallowed. “It’s fine?”
“It’s not, and you don’t ever have to forgive me,” Jason said, feeling his own throat tighten. “But you do have to know that I don’t resent you, and it’s not your fault that I haven’t been back to the Manor. That’s between me and the old man here,” he nodded in Bruce’s direction. “And we’ll figure it out eventually.”
Tim still looked shell-shocked, but he nodded blankly. Jason nodded back, then spun Tim around so he was facing Bruce. “Now,” he growled, glaring at Bruce over Tim’s head. “Do you have anything you’d like to say, Dark Knight?”
“Tim,” Bruce breathed. He looked shattered. Jason just hoped he could keep it together long enough to finally have a genuine conversation with this kid before he had to leave and go brood about expressing an emotion for the next twenty-four hours.
Bruce visibly collected himself. As he did so, Tim’s shoulders got more and more tense. Jason could practically feel the kid vibrating.
“It’s ok, Bruce,” Tim said suddenly. “You don’t have to say anything, I know this doesn’t change anything, I’ll still move out –”
“Tim,” Bruce said firmly. Tim’s flinch was so minute that Jason didn’t think he’d have noticed it if his hands weren’t still on the kid’s shoulders. “Please listen to me.” He took a deep breath. “You said that you were actively standing in the way of my family’s happiness,” he began slowly. “Do you not consider yourself part of my family?”
Tim’s shoulders hunched. Jason let go. Stepped back. Watched Bruce carefully.
“I mean – I know technically I’m part of your family, you adopted me,” he said slowly. “But I also – also know that you never actually chose me, not like you did Dick and Jason. I kind of pushed myself in, to be honest, and I just think that it’s for the best now that I step back and let you have more time with your sons.” He said the last part in a rush. Jason felt his heart constrict.
Bruce took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Tim, I will be the first to admit that I am not the best at communicating, especially when someone is important to me,” he said finally. Jason scoffed. Bruce twitched, but kept going. “I have been trying to improve, but I still have a long, long way to go. That’s the only excuse I have for why I haven’t told you that I love you, that I’m so incredibly glad you came into my life three years ago, and that it is an honor – truly an honor – to be your father.”
Tim’s mouth had fallen open somewhere around the “I love you,” but Bruce wasn’t done.
“It’s not a good excuse,” he said heavily. “But I am trying to be honest with you. Tim, I will keep trying, and I will keep telling you that I love you, until the day I die. And you don’t have to forgive me,” he added quickly, echoing Jason. “But you have my apology. And my gratitude. And you can be Robin, or not be Robin, but you will always – always – be my son.”
Tim’s eyes were huge. “Really?” he said, and Jason’s heart broke. Bruce’s eyes were suspiciously bright.
“Yes,” he said, and for the second time that night, opened his arms.
+++
Tim moved slowly. He was half-afraid this was all a trick, or a dream, or that Jason would jump forward at any moment, knife unsheathed, and end it all.
But he didn’t. And Bruce didn’t step away, didn’t move at all, actually, until Tim was tucked against his chest, in his arms, in the strongest, safest place in the world. He felt Bruce’s cheek against the top of his head, and then a light kiss.
“My son,” Bruce whispered, choked. “My son. I love you.”