Chapter Text
Disclaimer: not mine
Only a 2 or 3 parter
Chapter 1
Dick stared at the file that had just popped up, grimacing as he recognised where it had come from. Just as he was getting Damian more settled the al Ghul’s were reaching out again. He knew Damian had been talking to Talia after Bruce’s death, it was why he’d given him Robin after all but it had been more than a year since then since…since things had fallen apart.
That night had been such a mess and he knew it was his fault, he’d had that fact shoved at him by everyone. He should have talked things over with Tim first, discussed creating a new identity with him, changed the colours up a bit more on the new Robin suit too. Yes, he’d added green back in for Damian, plus the hood, but maybe it had still been too similar to Tim’s, to the suit he had made after his friends died. If he had known Tim would leave that night, he would have held off on patrol to talk to him instead of that last confrontation with Tim in the Red Robin suit…a fight the kid had won. He’d been surprised and proud of that, had let him leave because he’d seen no other way except locking him up and he couldn’t bring himself to do that to Tim. He’d thought Tim would be back in a few weeks top, that he just needed some space and time.
Fifteen months later with no sign of Tim and he wanted to go back and slap himself for ever thinking it was okay to let Tim leave. There had been no sightings, no signs of any kind and not even Kon could find him. Dick had been worried Kon was going to do serious damage to him that day, thankfully Clark had pulled the kid off him and Barry had been holding Bart back already.
“Staring at the screen won’t do anything,” a familiar voice called.
“It’s from Talia or Ra’s,” he answered.
“Well shit. Brat gone to bed already?” Jason asked, removing his helmet, and Dick nodded.
Things between them were better but still tense. When Jason had come back, he’d been so angry when he saw Damian in Robin colours, when he found out Tim was gone. Despite how things had started, Jason respected Tim, had apparently asked him to be his Robin when he’d tried to be Batman. For a while, he’d refused to have anything to do with them, even Alfred. It had gotten really bad when Babs had found footage of Damian breaking Tim’s stuff, just like Tim had said and Dick had brushed him off at the time. But now, Jason would work with them, would come to the Cave if not the Manor.
“Might as well play it Dickiebird, better to see what they want before the brat finds it.”
He nodded, knowing Jay was right, so he opened the file, finding a document first.
This note is being sent as a courtesy, out of my respect for the Detective. The attached video is proof, though with your delicate stomachs you may wish to limit who sees the contents. Know that those responsible have paid dearly and permanently for their actions. You may have thrown the young Detective aside, but I was not so willing. He would have made a wonderful heir. There is a package coming. My daughter believed that when her Beloved returns, he would wish to have the contents and Timothy would wish to be returned home.
Ra’s al Ghul
“No…” No, it couldn’t mean…he hit play and watched as a camera panned across open desert.
“Fuck,” Jason swore and Dick realised there were bodies in the sand…five precisely.
The first was a man with a green top and jeans...long dead, exposure and scavengers having gotten to his body. The next was another man, lighter skinned with a long coat and a very obvious wound cutting deep into his abdomen. Near him was a bald woman, her throat cut, head barely hanging on either from the wound or scavengers using it. Then another body, cowled, with red goggles, outfit fully black from what could be seen and sticking through his body…a familiar bō staff with a small blade. Dick had known Tim’s bō had a retractable blade, usually used for cutting ropes and the like before they could ensnare Tim. But no…Tim woul… Dick stared, unable to comprehend and then he was falling from the chair, heaving into the trash can.
“No,” Jason’s hoarse whisper was barely audible as Dick lost everything that he’d eaten for at least a day.
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Jason should help Dick but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the image of the Red Robin uniform. Should he be thankful it hid the majority of the kid’s face from them? He was sprawled on his side in the sand, a trail of long dried blood behind him leading to a smaller pool. Death had not been instant, he’d had time to drag himself closer to the other bodies, the woman. Had Tim known them? One limp hand was stretched out towards her and Jason wondered if maybe she’d survived for a while as well, if Tim’s last act had been to try and save her. Lying the way he was, cape behind him, the hole in the suit was revealed, he’d been stabbed in the gut, it would have been a painful death. The coverage and armour of the suit meant his body hadn’t been as ravaged by scavengers as the others but it was still bad…way beyond an open coffin.
All of them were long beyond being able to be revived by the Lazarus Pit. It could heal wounds, even old wounds, but with death there was a time limit. Was that why Ra’s was sending his body back? It sounded like Tim had done something to earn the mans’ respective, he had only ever called B Detective. Had Tim been working with the League? He’d been alone, isolated, perfect conditions for Ra’s to try and get him onboard.
His eyes went back to the note, re-reading it. When her beloved returns…Bruce was dead…wasn’t he? And then he realised there were more files, shakily opening them to find what was obviously Tim’s work, documents and images, equations…all of it added up to one thing…Bruce was alive. Tim had been right.
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Barry stared at the mass of data they had been sent by Dick…compiled by Tim. The kid had done it, he’d proved that Bruce was alive and lost in time. Bart had known he would once they told him what was going on. Now they just had to get Bruce back and find Tim, right?
He sent out the messages to those who could help, seeing their shock as they read through the very thorough research but then they got to work. Honestly, there wasn’t much for them to do other than get Bruce, Tim had been his usual self when it came to research.
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Diana stared through the glass at the man sleeping in the bed. It was him; it was really him. Bruce was alive. She had wanted to hear Tim out before saying whether it was possible, but all attempts to contact him had failed. Why had he only sent the data, why hadn’t he come home and brought it to them himself? Did he think he was unwelcome, unwanted? Cassie felt so bad for their last meeting and as far as they knew, he didn’t know Kon and Bart were back.
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Alfred signed for the package and took it inside. “Master Dick, Master Jason,” he called and the two boys appeared, both haggard and older looking. They had locked the video Ra’s sent down very tightly, enough that even Alfred hadn’t been able to access it. Then again, did he want to see? With the postage on the box, it could only be one thing.
Master Damian appeared on the stairs, seeming almost hesitant. He had been quiet since the two had sat them down to explain Ra’s’ message and young Master Tim’s fate. Perhaps he was finally realising what he had done with his treatment of his older brother.
And then the two young women were in the library doorway, staring silently.
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Dick took the package and set it carefully on the table, Jason handing him a knife to open it. Folded on top was the Red Robin suit, obviously cleaned, but with the holes from Tim’s wound there…cutting through both sides, he’d been impaled, not just stabbed. Jason took it from him and set it aside. What had to be some of Tim’s belongings, some photos, his bō, a few trinkets likely picked up in Europe and then…an urn.
He took a deep breath to ensure his hands were steady before lifting it carefully, taking in the exquisite decorations in gold, hearing Dami suck in a breath.
“Damian?”
“Grandfather…named Drake his heir…honoured amongst the League…a leader,” Damian read off, stilted and stiff. “There are accolades, a list of missions with the various teen heroes. It seems Grandfather had watched him for years.”
So, the urn was what Dick assumed…they had cremated Tim. It was probably for the best given the condition his…corpse had been in when found.
“It could be a trick, the video, all of it,” he pleaded, and Damian shook his head.
“If it was, Grandfather would not have bothered with this,” he waved at the urn. “We had no knowledge of Drake…Timothy being named his heir and so no reason to expect such opulence. He would have sent the remains in something simpler.”
Dick closed his eyes, hugging cold metal and stone to his chest as if he could give Tim one last hug.
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Damian couldn’t help reading every mark on the urn, seeing how highly his Grandfather had held Timothy in his esteem. He had worked so hard to get such respect from the man and yet he had named another, one not of his blood, as his heir. Richard and Todd had not given much detail on the older boy’s death, just that it had been in battle, that his killer had died as well. Had Timothy taken his killer with him? That went against Father’s ideals but was something Damian found very understandable.
He felt so torn now, he had done his best to either kill or remove Drake from the family and he had succeeded only for the older boy to then take his place with his Grandfather. Had he become a killer? Had he turned fully from Father’s path? Todd said the files had included everything needed to save Father, that would have taken resources and Grandfather respected Father, so had it been a partnership in order to bring Father back?
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Steph stared at the urn Dick was hugging. Tim…no, she didn’t want to believe…couldn’t …he couldn’t be gone. Was this how he felt when her death had been faked? She hated herself now for letting that last so long, she should have reached out immediately once healed, should have come back sooner.
She numbly reached for Babs hand, feeling her squeeze it, she wasn’t alone. She knew Barbara had really gone after Dick for his treatment of Tim a few months after he vanished, the two rarely talked outside of bat duties anymore. But the two of them had been called for the reveal of Ra’s’ message and then had hung around, waiting for the package. She had assumed a coffin but no, the bastard couldn’t even give them that, one last chance to say goodbye. Instead, he sent some fancy League urn after daring to burn Tim.
They might not have been dating anymore, Tim might have been angry at her over how things had gone…but she still cared deeply for him. She’d messed their last meeting up so badly; she never should have approached him in the base she found out about from Dick. Not when things were tense between those two. She’d deserved that kick to the gut, she’d gladly let him do that again since it would mean he was alive.
Bruce was alive…none of them had believed him but Tim had been right. According to Clark, they should have him back in a few days, he was being kept in quarantine on the Watchtower at the moment. No one else knew of Tim…they were keeping it quiet. Sure, they all suspected but they wouldn’t tell B without proof. So, Dick and Jason would tell him once he was home. How would Bruce feel, knowing Tim died to bring him back?
She’d set aside the Spoiler uniform, just like Tim had asked her to, but he’d never know, never get to see her as Batgirl. And Cass…they didn’t know where she was, was she dead too? Or was she out there somewhere with no idea her beloved little brother was gone?
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Kon floated above Wayne manor, able to see Dick clutching an urn…and the ashes it contained. No…Not Tim…No! He turned, flying away, he had to get away. He couldn’t see as tears blinded him, sobs breaking free until eventually he fell from the sky, curling up on the ground as he cried. He didn’t stop even as a cape was wrapped around him and he was lifted into strong arms.
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Clark had just stepped out of the Zeta when he froze, hearing heartbroken sobs, a body tumbling from the sky to hit the ground. He took off, racing towards where the sounds were only to stare in shock at the sight of Kon curled up in a ball, body shaking with the force of his cries. He floated down, gently wrapping Kon in his cape before lifting him and heading for the farm, he wouldn’t want Jon to see him like this.
Ma froze when she saw them but quickly opened the door and then headed upstairs to pull back the covers of Kon’s bed for him. “Clark?”
“I think I know, but I need to confirm,” he answered softly.
“Tim?” she whispered, and he nodded. She leant down and kissed Kon’s forehead before sitting beside him.
Clark headed downstairs and then out of Kon’s hearing range before calling the Manor. He returned to the farmhouse fifteen minutes later with a heavy heart. Tim… if only he had given Tim the time to explain rather than simply take Dick’s word for it. When pressed, Dick said death had not been immediate so why hadn’t Tim called to him? Or even Kon, sure Tim hadn’t known he was alive, but while dying it wouldn’t be odd to call out to a friend.
One look at his face and Ma knew, reaching out for his hand. Ma and Pa had loved Tim as much as they loved him and his family. He was Kon’s best friend, had fought for him from the moment they met. And he’ never shied away from helping out on the farm, despite being a total city boy and needing a bucket or two of sunscreen to keep from frying in the Kansas sun.
Kon was asleep but tears still fell, he was crying in his sleep. He would call Barry and Diana, let them tell the other two rather than make Kon tell them. Then the rest of the Titans would need to be told, but only once Bruce was home and informed.
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Barbara hesitated but then opened the video file, digging it out hadn’t been easier but she was far better than him. The only one of the bats who was a challenge was…was Tim. She pressed play and stared at the scene, taking it all in, glad she’d taken anti-nausea meds first. She could see it, how Tim had died trying to help another. She didn’t care if Tim was the one who had impaled their killer or if one of the others had simply used his weapon to do it. If Tim had survived, it would have been a clear case of self-defence and defence of others. She wasn’t as stuck on the no-killing rule as some, not with her Father being a cop and working with the Birds of Prey.
Still, seeing Tim’s corpse weeks after he died…she closed her eyes in grief. She would miss him a lot. He had been her hacker buddy for years, she’d tried to make contact after he vanished, had left little messages everywhere she could think of, but there’d never been an answer. Why hadn’t he reached out even after she made it clear she didn’t side with Dick? Had the League kept him away from computers to keep him from contacting them for help? Or had he chosen not to?
She forced herself to focus, running every check she could on the video to ensure it was real. She studied it deeply, looking for any sign that there was something wrong with it or the body in the Red Robin suit. She wouldn’t put it passed Ra’s to dress someone in Tim’s suit to trick them. Dick and Jason were too distraught to do it, so she had to, before Bruce returned.
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As soon as he stepped into the Cave, it hit him, home. He was finally home. There was Alfred, standing stiff and proper but with tears in his eyes, and Bruce pulled him into a hug before he could say anything.
“Welcome home, Master Bruce,” Alfred murmured, voice thick.
“It’s good to be home,” he pulled back and smiled, but there was something…a sadness still to Alfred. But then Dick was there and he hugged his eldest before being swarmed by the rest, having to pull Damian in when the boy hung back, seeming unsure. He looked between his children and then frowned. “Where’s Tim and Cass?”
And then Stephanie sobbed and Bruce felt a bolt of terror, no…
“Dick?”
“B, I…I’m so sorry. Tim, he…” he glanced to the side and Bruce’s gaze followed to see an urn.
“No,” he whispered. Not Tim…not his precious son. He walked over, reaching out to trace the golden decoration, recognising the markings…League of Assassins…he’d let his skills with the language and symbolism slip a bit but he could make out enough. “This urn…”
“Tim…he was alone, vulnerable…and Ra’s offered help. We don’t know what exactly happened but they…they sent a video as confirmation. Ra’s said it was respect for Tim and you that he sent his…his remains back to us,” Dick explained shakily.
“I went over the video, there’s no evidence of tampering and the cor…body…it looks like Tim as best I can tell,” Barbara added.
“What do you mean?” he asked, latching on to the fact she didn’t seem entirely sure.
“The body is in fully gear and…it took time to find them, exposure to a desert and scavengers…you don’t want to see it Bruce,” she explained gently, looking haunted. How many times had she seen it to authenticate it?
“And Cass?” he asked, fearing the worst, surely, she had been with her brother.
“We don’t know, she left within days of your funeral,” Jason answered this time, he didn’t seem entirely comfortable but he was standing near Dick without any tension between them. “It was Tim’s research that found you, Ra’s sent it with the note and video, package with the Red Robin uniform, urn, and a few of Tim’s things arrived a week later. We’ve been trying to track Cass but she vanished.”
“I think she stowed away on a flight to Asia, China maybe,” Babs added.
One child dead and the other missing…wait. “Red Robin?” he asked in confusion, seeing the flash of guilt on both Dick and Alfred’s faces, the way Damian wouldn’t quit meet his eyes.
What had happened to his family?
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Kon stood with Bart and Cassie, watching as the headstone was placed. Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne, beloved son, and brother. He felt sick just looking at it. It wasn’t meant to be like this, he wasn’t meant to finally make it home only for Tim to be dead. They’d been talking about telling people and then he’d died, he’d been so desperate to get back once he woke in the future, to see Tim again and now…
He hated Dick and Damian; they were why Tim had felt driven from Gotham and cut off from any help. He just wanted Tim back but there was no way. Bruce had told him that from the evidence of the video, Tim had been too long dead for the Lazarus Pit, not that Kon would want Tim to go through that but…at least he’d be alive.
Bruce said he’d watched the video, said he agreed that to the best they could tell, it was Tim. The ash was too thoroughly…to thoroughly burnt to get any DNA. He wanted to believe that meant that Tim could still be alive but it hurt to hope.
Tim was officially dead and Kon felt so lost.
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Timothy’s…remains had been placed in a new urn and buried with the Wayne family. The urn his Grandfather had supplied had been left in the Cave along with the Red Robin uniform. If he could see the older boy one last time, he would apologise for what he had said that night. Not for the previous attempts to kill him, after spending time in the League, he would understand. But Pennyworth was correct, he had been very cruel to Timothy that night, and his…brother had not deserved it.
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Bruce sat on Tim’s bed, holding his pillow to his chest, imagining he could still smell his son on it, but any scent had faded while Bruce was lost in time. The room had been left exactly how Tim had left it, except for the basic cleaning Alfred did. Another room kept as a shrine to a dead child…a child dead because of him. Jason’s return had been a miracle, one that could not be repeated.
Part of him wished he’d listened to Barbara and not watched the video, not had his memories of Tim tainted by the sight of his body ravaged by the elements and animals. He didn’t care if Tim killed his killer or not. All he wanted was his baby boy back.
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Jason checked the intel and it was solid so he acted on it. He had an informant out there somewhere, technically he had quit a few, but this one was different. Their intel was way better, always anonymous, and delivered by email. Most people with info on the Alley didn’t send it by email, especially one that not even Babs had been able to crack yet. And she’d admitted to having a few of the same types of emails delivered to. Someone had even hacked the Watchtower simply to expose a weakness and alert them. It was all very suspicious and he suspected the one person or group rather than several so-called good Samaritans popping up at the same time. Hell, whoever it was, had even slipped Lois and Clark some very juicy intel on one of Luthor’s new schemes.
B had been back for six months now and things were better, not perfect, that wasn’t possible, but they were better than they had been even before Bruce had ‘died’ between the two of them. Bruce had stopped commenting on the guns or when he killed and had taken back the cowl as quickly as he could. Dick was back as Nightwing, Damian was Robin still and a lot better than he used to be. Something about Tim’s death and Ra’s’ reaction to it had really affected the kid.
He often had his apartment invaded by teens but he never kicked them out, no matter how he grumbled. He couldn’t do it so he had to put up with the three Meta’s taking over his living room and eating his food. For Tim’s sake, he would always open his door to the three. And sure enough, there they were sprawled on his couch and floor, the tv on softly as the boys dozed, Cassie scrolling on her phone. Apparently, Tim had really talked him up to the three in those last months and honestly…he didn’t mind them being there.
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Dick crouched on the roof, staring out at Gotham. He was patrolling solo tonight; he usually did unless Dami joined him. Steph refused to work with him unless it was the whole family and Jason tended to stick to the Alley unless really needed elsewhere. He didn’t blame Steph, he still blamed himself as well. He would never forgive himself for driving Tim away, if only he’d listened…
Gotham felt greyer ever since Timmy had left, it had gotten worse once they knew he was…dead. The funeral had been hell, so many blamed him, Damian, and Alfred. Jason and Babs hadn’t been involved; Jason hadn’t even been in Gotham at the time. The remaining Young Justice crew wouldn’t be in the same room as the three of them, not without eyes glowing or objects being moved without them seeing it happen, sometimes something breaking. After seeing how Kon and Bart’s deaths had affected Tim and Cassie, it wasn’t surprising. Tim had been a friend to the Titans once the two teams merged, but never quite as close to them as the original four YJ four had been. There had been others in YJ but Dick wasn’t sure where they were now, though now and then gifts appeared at Tim’s grave that he thought might be from them.
As far as the public knew, Tim had died overseas while travelling through Europe. They made sure it was listed as an accident, nothing that could be blamed on anyone, especially Tim. His old school friends visited his grave from time to time too.
Dick probably spent more time than was healthy at the grave or the Cave ‘shrine’. He’d inspected Tim’s suit, what were the odds he’d been impaled in one of the suits weak spots? The armour on that side had been lighter to allow for freer movement, had his killer seen that or had it been a lucky hit? If he’d been in a suit designed for him…there would have been more armour in that spot since Tim moved differently to Jason who the suit had been made for. Plus, it would have fit him perfectly and not been too big so reworked to make it fit him passably.
The city seemed to know the real Batman was back and had settled a lot. Though being stopped by Ivy and asked where Tim was, well his Robin, had been a surprise, and then Riddler had asked too! To separate Tim and Robin’s deaths, he had told them he had died before the new Robin appeared, that was why the new one was chosen. That put almost a year and continents between their deaths.
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“I miss you Tim,” Kon whispered, placing the flowers down.
Clark kept his distance, giving him space, Jon leaning against him. It was Tim’s eighteenth birthday, he’d turned seventeen after he left Gotham, had he spent his last birthday alone? Clark had tried to reach him that day but hadn’t been able to find him.
Finding out that Kon and Tim had been dating before Kon’s death was a surprise and yet, with how Tim had taken his death, it shouldn’t have been. He wished Kon would get a miracle but it seemed they were all out.
His death had both drawn the bats together and torn them apart. It was obvious Dick blamed himself and that at least Steph did, Babs too to at least an extent. A lot of people in the community blamed Dick and Damian. It would be hard for Damian should he want to join a team, especially since the only one around was the Titans and the trio were part of them. There weren’t many capes Damian’s age though, Jon was the closest and there was a good three years between them, it would be another year or two before he would even consider letting Jon go out. By then, Kon would probably be looking for a more independent callsign as well; Superboy could become a legacy like Robin.
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Babs frowned as she tried to trace the email, again. They were driving her insane but there was something almost familiar about some of the coding, like the base was someone she knew… she’d run comparisons and the closest…was Tim. But if it was, then why not reach out? She knew they all still harboured the tiniest hope that Ra’s had been lying, that the remains sent to them weren’t Tim’s. But if he could send intel the way he did then why couldn’t he respond to her queries? Maybe Tim had taught someone while away and that was why it seemed similar?
If she could get anything on them, a location, something…
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Bruce found an email waiting for him and realised quickly it was the kind that had Babs ready to pull her hair out. Carefully he opened it, reading through the information, searching for anything that would point to who the sender was. So far, all of the intel they provided was correct and they seemed to be on their side. The email was completely impersonal, there was nothing to give even a hint of their identity or location. He knew Barbara had a theory on them but she wasn’t sharing, he trusted her though, she would tell them when she was ready or it became important.
He glanced over at the wall where a picture hung, smiling sadly. Tim never would have been able to let go of a mystery like this. He would have thrived while investigating it, Bruce probably would have had to carry him to bed several times to spare him the pain of sleeping at the Batcomputer…something he did far too often. It was getting easier, to focus on the happy memories, to remember his son as the brilliant young man he had been and not those last images.
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Jason ducked out of sight, breathing heavily. He really hated Africa!! No matter the country, he hated the continent. He had died there once; he wasn’t going to die there again! He’d gotten cut off from the others and they were all under heavy fire. Not ideal at all. Plus he was starting to run low on ammo. Seriously, why would an alien ship want to land in the middle of the Sahara! They didn’t even seem like a desert loving species from the glimpses he’d gotten. He hunkered down as things began blowing up, where was Kori or Biz? And then he was being lifted into the air, suddenly deaf, feeling heat…no…not again….
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Alarms began blaring through the Batcave and Damian raced to the console, well…hobbled. Stupid cast. “Cave to Batman, SOS sent by Outsiders, they’re under heavy fire and…have lost Hood.”
He grimaced, making sure the message made it up to the Watchtower, someone like Superman or Wonder Woman would be able to reach them much faster after all. And he confirmed he had done so when Father told him to.
He remembered Jason from the League, though he knew Jason didn’t remember him. He had allowed those interactions to colour his opinion of the second Robin until after Timothy’s death, it was only then that he had begun to really observe and see he was far more than a brute or the brain damaged youth his mother had taken in.
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He stared at the body on the cot. Why had he done that? He shouldn’t have. His teammates would have found him, would have intervened. It was so stupid but it was done now. He would recover and then he would leave, the other rooms would be locked down to make sure his only way out was the exit. That would work.
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Jason slowly roused, his head pounding and body aching. He kept his eyes closed, breathing unchanging, what had happened? Right, the mission to the Sahara…big missiles…an explosion. But this wasn’t the Cave or Watchtower or anywhere the team used as a base. It didn’t smell or sound right but he was pretty sure he was alone so he cracked an eye, realising his helmet was off…and he’d been given medical treatment. He sat up and looked around, seeing his gear piled nearby, clean and fixed up.
Where was he? He got up and then noticed the camera, he was being watched. The door opened but no one was there, just an empty hall. And there was a tray with food on the nearby counter.
“Hello?” he called.
A screen flickered to life. Hallway leads to the exit. The food is clean, you can eat it or leave it. Your wounds have been tended; no signs of concussion due to your helmet. There is a bike and directions to the nearest town.
“Who are you?” but the words on the screen didn’t change. Africa…but this wasn’t a League base, he’d seen enough of those to know Ra’s’ tech. He glanced at the food; he was hungry but could he trust words on a screen? He picked up the fruit and looked it over, it seemed untampered with so he took a bite. They’d seen his face, had access to him while unconscious so why heal him then hurt him? “Thanks?”
You’re welcome.
So, he or she was still watching. He put his gear back on and then headed into the hallway, looking around. There were doors but they all seemed to be locked electronically, ensuring Jason had to head out. Whoever had saved him, they didn’t want him to work out who they were. But Jason needed to know, they’d seen his face. He was being watched though so how to get into a room and snoop?
TBC…