Chapter Text
Tim has come a very far way since he was Robin .
He’s no longer hearing laughter at all times in the dark, he can look at the Robin colors without having a panic attack, his hair isn’t green anymore and hasn’t been in a very long time. Tim has wanted to take back what he used to be for a long time, since he was benched from being Robin for the "foreseeable future” which had ended about six months ago. He then spent four of those months retraining his body to be up to Bat standard.
Red, black and yellow mean many different things to him. Bring up many different emotions and memories for him. Nonetheless, they are his colors, and he refuses to let that clown control him any longer. When Cardinal debuted, flashes of red, yellow and black made Batman pause. Bruce was hesitant about him coming back into the field, even though he was the one to approve him.
It wasn’t like Tim fully disappeared from the vigilante scene while benched. He still helped on whatever cases Bruce and Dick let him on, that alone was a fight they had to even agree to let him help. But Tim couldn’t blame Bruce for being unsure about him rejoining, let alone in the same colors. Let alone the fact Bruce hadn’t even wanted Tim to be a vigilante ever again. But when Tim told him it wouldn’t matter, that he would come back with or without him, he begrudgingly agreed.
Tim has worked hard for this, he knows he can be a bit stubborn and this is certainly one of those times.
Another factor is Damian. The new Robin. Tim doesn’t truly mind him, afterall the whole reason Tim became Robin was because there wasn’t one and Batman needed Robin. Damian was simply doing the same, because Tim had become obsolete and he was right there.
What Tim did mind was how he treated him. Tim wasn’t stupid, he knew his own faults, but Damian seemed to enjoy nitpicking him. Over and over again, every error on display for his viewing. He couldn’t figure out why Damian found issue with him. Tim wasn’t a threat nor an obstacle to him, Tim wasn’t even a part of the family, though it hurt to think about it. He knew Bruce only kept him around to keep an eye on him, it was painfully obvious with how the older man watched Tim.
The shadows on the older man’s face alone says what he would never admit with words. That Tim was a burden, weighing on Bruce. It was exactly what Tim was trying to avoid, the entirety of his tenure as Robin.
Dick also looks at him differently. Whenever Tim smiles too widely, he notices how Dick’s eyes linger on the edges of it, as if looking for strain or maybe red. The way he appears to be waiting for Tim to either vanish or cry. It reminds Tim of the first little while of being Robin, how everyone who saw him either paled or got a pinched expression. At least he isn’t being called a dead boy’s name this time. (At least they aren’t calling him J.J.)
It was why Tim had to stop hanging out with Barbara. Immediately after the fact, her care was comforting, something Tim couldn’t remember having truly before. As time went on, her pity was grating. It made his skin tingle and bite at his nerves, he couldn’t handle it. However, after the man paralyzed her, she stopped looking at him with that pity. There was understanding, no matter how small. It was enough to satisfy the crawling feeling, though Tim couldn’t shake the shame of only being able to be around her after she suffered.
Tim felt childish as he leapt off Redbird, barely remembering to kick the stand down for the motorcycle to lean on. Being benched mid patrol was infantilizing, what was more was how Bruce assumed.
Batman wasn’t supposed to assume, none of the Bats were. They were meant to find as much information about the event to make better educated decisions, not see a teammate, a trusted member and assume the dead body in front of them was their doing.
He hadn’t even taken the time to look at the scene. How the Joker henchman clearly had orders to not get caught, how his body was holding the knife used to slice his neck. Or maybe that Cardinal was trying to stop the bleeding!
Instead, Batman faltered momentarily as Cardinal had demanded to know if Leslie’s was open tonight. Before ordering him to leave, to go back to the cave and stay there. When Tim had tried to argue, he was shut down. With no explanation, other than the calculating expression on Robin when Tim had hopped on Redbird.
Tim angrily ran a hand through his hair, tearing off his domino with the other. How was he meant to move on from his past if others won’t? And automatically assume the worst of him? Was it that hard to imagine Tim not killing someone? Was it–
“Tt, You’re just like your father, Drake.” Damian’s voice ripped Tim from his thoughts, bringing up confusion in their place. Looking at the boy, he had also taken his mask off when entering the cave, Tim couldn’t even think of a reason why he would’ve been sent back as well.
“..What are you talking about? Jack Drake never killed anyone.” Tim couldn’t keep the residual bitterness out of his tone. He felt slightly guilty until Damian glared at him, like what he meant was obvious and was mocking Tim for not getting it. It made Tim’s blood boil, fire licking up at the sides of his veins, which was stupid. Tim was being stupid, because this is a child he’s letting get under his skin.
Damian tilted his head at him, the mocking smile looking out of place on the younger boy, or maybe it was a smile in general that didn’t belong. “Not him, imbecile, the one who taught you to kill,” Which confused Tim even more, because besides Jack, the only man who could be considered a father to him was Bruce. Or maybe Lucius?–
“The Joker.”
Tim’s ears were ringing before the last syllable left Damian’s mouth. Or it was laughter overlapping so much it sounded like ringing. Or maybe the ringing was blood rushing in his veins, rushing through his fingertips, through the wounds he inflicted, that were inflicted on him. Whether the blood was his or not didn’t matter, just that it painted his hands. Shaking, shaking hands, wielding a gun, was it a toy or painted?
The emotions crashing into him kept him in place, the memories, thoughts, sounds taking over. Laughter threatening to creep up, feeling like electricity to keep down made him nodded stiltedly. He didn’t pay attention to the noise of the roaring engine closing in, before taking a swift turn and hurriedly leaving. Nor the two voices calling at him, the only thought in his mind was to get away and be left with the voltage in his throat.
Damian ah Ghul Wayne knew when someone was above him. It didn’t happen often, mind you, which made it easier to know when it did: Father was, Mother definitely was, Grandfather was. Grayson was in an odd in between space, sometimes he was and other times he wasn’t. He thought Oracle wasn’t, seeing as she wasn’t in the field, before he was heavily corrected as she kept the systems in the Cave running, gave them information and kept everyone connected.
Those were easy to accept. They were all significantly enough older than him that it made sense, experience was everything and though he loathed to admit it, Damian didn’t have as much as them. The one Damian didn’t understand was Timothy Drake.
Drake was a former Robin, though had no interest to take back the mantle, so Mother didn’t think to give Damian a full debrief on him. She hadn’t believed he was important to Father anymore. Damian didn’t often think his mother made mistakes, but this was certainly one.
Timothy Drake was both important to Father in ways Damian understood and ways he didn’t. Drake was incredibly intelligent, having figured out Father’s identity when he was younger than Damian. During the time Drake wasn’t an active vigilante, he helped with missions, which was a privilege set-aside for Gordon and Pennyworth. He became an exemption to that rule.
He was obviously a vital asset intellectually, and held no animosity to Damian, so he was not a threat.
However, he was not a “sibling” of Damian’s. Father never referred to Drake as Damian’s brother, like he did with Grayson, or the very few mentions of late-Todd. Damian took that as his role was similar to Gordon’s, as an ally. Except he lived in the manor, Grayson called him his “little brother” which Damian believed was a title reserved for him and a deceased boy.
The facts did not line up in a way that made sense. Damian knew something significant happened to Drake while he was Robin, but it was never said. He was unthinkingly benched whenever the Joker was involved, which wouldn’t be peculiar on its own, as Robin was always benched as well. What was, is the way Drake never argued. Grayson had said that every Robin fought against being benched, as is tradition, Drake does at any chance. Except when Joker’s rampant.
Clearly, there is more to it than just Todd’s death. Something that happened between the clown and Drake while he was Robin. Nobody speaks of it, though it must have something to do with the way Quinn acts around Cardinal. It is no surprise she knows which Robin he is, Drake didn’t change weapons between identities. Though, after leaving the Joker, she seems regretful towards Drake. Harley Quinn must’ve been involved with whatever happened as well, specifically when her and Joker were together.
…Perhaps, ‘Drake’ wasn’t truly his name.
Damian was reluctant to admit, but he probably could’ve gone about confirming information differently. He had no issues with Drake, though he couldn’t figure out where he was in the hierarchy, Damian had no reasons to dislike him. Nonetheless, his theories needed to be confirmed somehow and nobody spoke of what happened.
Emotional reactions are hard to hide, even with Batman’s training, someone trained the same could tell. It wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion making remarks, that link into Damian’s theories, would be the easiest way of process of elimination.
However, as Drake stared at him blankly, Damian might need to reevaluate. The expression Drake wore was not a careful decision, it wasn’t a trained response. It was as though his face couldn’t keep up with the emotions he felt, so it chose neutrality. It was more startling than Damian would acknowledge.
Maybe asking about Drake’s parentage would’ve been accepted better if he hadn’t been agitated already, or if Damian hadn’t also been irritated by Batman sending him back to the cave as well. It wasn’t as though Damian had never aggravated Drake before, he’s given many a snide remark over the months. This felt different though.
“Drake?” Damian couldn’t help but question, when he didn’t give a response.
The almost robotic nod wasn’t what Damian was hoping for. He heard the roar of the Batmobile rolling into the Cave, yet Drake had no reaction. Damian was readying his mind for the no doubt lecture Grayson would give him over this, except Drake wasn’t moving to tattle, or even giving Damian a smug look to say he had won. Nothing.
Then, just as sudden as the nod, Drake abruptly turned on his heel. He practically ran out of the Cave, and Damian felt like he severely miscalculated.