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Tim was a simple man. He kept to himself when he knew he could handle the problem, and sometimes even when he couldn’t. This was inevitably a side effect of living with parents who couldn't care less about what Tim got up to in his free time, especially if it did not benefit their reputations. So, whether he was skateboarding down the halls or researching how to perform a lobotomy, there were no questions asked and no subsequent consequences.
This only became a problem after he integrated into the Batfamily. They had no room for secrets. No room for Tim to keep to himself. No room for Tim. It was hard, at first, to adjust to Bruce being a paranoid freak, desperate to have some semblance of control over what happened in the family.
He had them write reports after every patrol, and even if he never bothered to read them, he still chased them up on submitting them in a timely manner. Tim has his suspicions that Jason simply submits black word documents and Tim has visually seen Dick submitting a single sentence as his report. Bruce never bothered to comment, leaving Tim with no clue if he should follow in the footsteps of their disobedience or hand in his reports for the sake of Oracle's sanity.
Even when Bruce wasn’t pestering Tim for his post-patrol reports he was always questioning Tim. It started with simple questions about how Tim reached certain conclusions, then spiralled into asking why he wasn't doing things in the order that Bruce would do them in. Or as he called it, ‘the proper order’.
It drove Tim crazy as he struggled to articulate himself, to constantly feel Batman's judgmental eyes staring at him expectantly, waiting for answers.
Though as much as Tim struggled under Bruce's high standard and heavy expectations, it only got worse when he was gone. At some point, Tim had gotten used to the persistent questioning of his mentor. It gave him an outlet of sorts, a way to walk through his thoughts step by step and slow his mind down enough to see the smaller details he would have missed otherwise.It hurt to rely so heavily on that overbearing presence only to have that ripped away from him.
So when Bruce died and his life became a downward spiral of misfortune, a series of unfortunate events if you will, Tim did everything he could to get him back. The process was long and arduous, involving the crossing of several lines that Tim would never be able to uncross, even if he became a saint. Accepting the help of Ra’s al Ghul was something that he would never fully recover from, and would never be forgiven for- not that anyone knew about it.
Now Bruce was back, Tim succeeded, and everything went back to normal… Except it really didn’t.
Dick avoided him, Bruce kept trying to talk with him, and Cassie kept trying to apologise. No one was willing to pretend nothing had happened, but at least Jason wasn’t trying to kill him anymore; that was a plus.
So when Tim was in the cave after a rare quiet night of patrol, writing a report on an attempted stabbing that sounds more interesting than it actually was, he was not expecting Ra’s al Ghul to appear on the Batcomputer. Apparently, the other inhabitants of the cave weren’t expecting it either.
Ra’s voice cracked briefly before smoothing out as the connection stabilized. “I have contacted you, Detective, to give you the chance to cease your actions and return my servers to the correct settings. ” Tim wished he could say that he was expecting the others to find out about what he did, and on some level, he was, but not like this.
Dick sharply turned to Bruce, panic written all over his face as he immediately assumed the call involved Damian, even though nothing Ra’s said indicated that to be the case.
“Damian, go up to your room and let us handle this.” The sternness in Bruce’s voice made Damian pause in the midst of his protest. He could see the fear in his father's eyes, and he was not willing to cause a fight so shortly after his father's safe return.
“Tt, I will inform Pennyworth of what is happening and submit my report from patrol.” Damian didn’t wait for confirmation as he huffed his way out of the cave, likely thinking of ways he could listen in without anyone finding out.
Bruce's brown furrowed under his cowl as he turned back to the Batcomputer's screen. “What do you mean, Ra’s? We haven't had any contact with you or the league since before I got back.” Which was true; not even Tim had interacted with any League business since Bruce got back from his little trip, but Tim knew that wasn’t what Ra’s was talking about.
Tim had felt off for weeks after Bruce returned from the timestream, as if he were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. The thing is, Tim didn’t know which shoe he was waiting for to drop. Is Ra’s going to use his spleen for some kind of nefarious plot? Is Damian going to try to kill Tim again? Is Bruce going to say he doesn’t need Tim anymore? Who knows?
Well, now Tim knows. He had forgotten what happened when he was with the league, that Ra’s might not have enjoyed it as much as he and Tam had.
“I am not talking to you, Batman. Detective, you know what you did; now fix it!” Tim couldn’t help the glee that bubbled up inside him as he sipped his coffee quietly smugly. He should not be happy about this; Ra’s could probably kill him if he actually tried, but he won’t… At least Tim doesn’t think he will.
Tim decided to give Dick and Bruce a break as he responded in their stead. “Whatever do you mean Ra’s? I'm just helping you gather information through new sources. You should appreciate the effort I spent on you. Do you know how long it took me to sign up for all those sites?” Far longer than he should have spent on it, that's for sure. Though he definitely doesn’t regret it. “Think of it as my gift to you, for all your help in getting Bruce back.”
“I am immortal. I don't need information about life insurance!” Ra’s’ face was turning a wonderful shade of purple. Tim would have to go back and save this clip to watch when he needed cheering up.
Outwardly, Tim shook his head, his face falling into a mask of false sympathy. “That's what you think, but death hits us all when we least expect it.” His hand was placed thoughtfully on his chest, and his words sounded as if they were choked by grief, totally not him holding back a laugh.
Ra’s growled, unable to contain his rage at how things were playing out. “Enough of your games. Why are my men unable to unsubscribe from these ridiculous emails?” This would be over if he could just figure out how to get the emails to stop. Every time he unsubscribed from a site, it continued to send emails asking if he was sure he wanted to unsubscribe. It was a vicious cycle, one that he wanted no part in.
“Oh really? That's too bad, I wonder why that is. That's so weird. You should really get that checked out.” Acting innocent was never Tim’s strong suit, especially when he was incredibly proud of what he had done.
“... I am not playing here, Detective.” Well, obviously Ra’s isn’t playing. He must be ignoring all the ads, or maybe he doesn’t like Episode, but Tim, for sure, thought Super Seducer 2 would have been a hit.
“No. I know. I understand. That sounds like a very serious problem. I just don't see how it's my problem?”
Sitting off to the side and watching the conversation between the two unfold before him, Bruce couldn’t help but feel baffled. He had decided early on in the conversation that it was best to let them talk and see what information he could gather, by the looks of it Dick had decided to do the same. It grew harder for him to hide his confusion and distrust at the situation as the conversation continued without pause.
“Timothy, stop acting like a child and show me how to get rid of the spam emails!” Everyone in the cave looked at Ra’s with widened eyes, not understanding why he was acting like a petulant toddler who had just had their favourite toy taken away from them.
Everyone but Tim that is. He took the outburst in stride and gasped as he took a step back, using the chance to place his now-empty coffee mug on the table he had been sitting at earlier. “Woah, I think you need to take a breath and calm down. Have you even looked at the therapy emails I signed you up for? I think they might be helpful to guide you through releasing your anger in a non-lethal way.” The grin was impossible to hide behind his fake concern.
Ra’s groans, hands straining into fists as he shakes his head, face portrays nothing but distaste for Tim and his shenanigans. “You are lucky that you are a part of my plans. If you were anyone else, you would be dead by now.” It was slightly worrying to hear that Ra’s had plans for Tim, but it was too late to change anything, so why not make it worse?
“Wow, you must be reading the 'how to make useless threats' magazine at least. I didn't think that one would be so popular with you.” Tim had the immense pleasure of seeing Ra’s froth at the mouth, his rage growing with each passing word Tim spoke.
“Oh, it really isn’t as bad as you are making it out to be Ra’s. I, for one, am a big fan of the word-of-the-day emails. I think today's word fits you quite well, you can be a pugnacious person after all.” Tim used the others' shocked silence to press the end call button. There was no need to drag it out when they were both getting nowhere with the conversation.
Turning away to gather his things Tim was bombarded by Dick and his god awful concern. “Tim. Timmy. What the fuck was that?” Dick had enough, he needed to have several conversations with Tim about not interacting with immortal people who have a league of assassins they can send after him at any time.
“I agree with Dick, why did he refer to you as Detective? Normally, he only calls me that.” It made no sense. Why had Bruce been demoted back to Batman?
“Guys, guys, we all need to calm down. First off, Bruce, I am terribly sorry that you have been replaced by a better, younger and prettier model; it happens to the best of us. Second off, if anyone had even bothered to read my report on what happened when Bruce was in the timestream, you wouldn’t be asking me these questions.”
Without caring about how they reacted to his statement, Tim gathered his empty mug and laptop off the table, making his way up to his room to finish his report on the attempted stabbing for submission.
Maybe this time, they’ll actually bother to read it.