#my previous posts really had me thinking about tim and danny in a toxic relationship

[flwrkid14]

A Love That Hurts: Tim and Danny’s Toxic Tango

It didn’t start like this.

In the beginning, their love had been easy. They found comfort in each other—a soft place to land when the rest of the world felt too sharp. Tim loved Danny’s laugh, the way it lit up a room even when everything else felt dark. Danny adored Tim’s quiet strength, the way he always seemed to know how to pick up the pieces.

For a while, they were each other’s saving grace. Tim helped Danny feel grounded, giving him the stability he hadn’t known since Amity Park became more battlefield than home. Danny made Tim feel alive, like he wasn’t just another cog in the Bat-machine—like he was someone worth loving.

But that kind of love is hard to hold onto when you don’t know how to nurture it.

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The cracks started small: an offhand comment here, a tense silence there. They chalked it up to stress, but the arguments began to escalate, unraveling the love they’d built. Neither of them knew how to fix it, so they didn’t try.

One fight bled into another. Danny’s voice was sharp. “They’re my friends, Tim. Something you’d know about if you still talked to yours. When was the last time you even answered Cassie or Steph? You’re too busy trying to fix things that don’t need fixing.”

Tim didn’t hesitate. “And when was the last time Val actually came through for you? She’s got her own problems—why does she need to patrol with you? Are you just keeping her around for the nostalgia? Or are you afraid of letting her go?”

Danny’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Right, because you’re the expert on letting go. How many of Kon’s clones are you going to try to ‘save’ before you realize it’s never going to bring him back?”

Tim flinched, his voice low and venomous. “At least I don’t run back to my exes when I feel like I’m losing control. What’s next, Danny? You calling Sam and Tucker to bail you out?”

Danny laughed, hollow and sharp. “You really think I need them? I’m here, Tim. With you. Maybe if you spent less time in your spreadsheets, you’d see that.”

The fights always ended the same: one of them storming off, slamming doors, followed by hours of silence. When they apologized, it wasn’t about fixing anything—just avoiding another explosion.

Neither could admit the truth: they weren’t protecting each other—they were just too afraid to let go

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Danny didn’t just distance Tim from his friends; he actively cut them out. He deleted Cassie’s texts before Tim could see them, until eventually, she stopped trying. When Tim noticed, Danny shrugged. “She’s probably busy,” he said casually, though his tone left no room for argument.

Tim didn’t push. After all, he wasn’t innocent. When Val invited Danny to patrol with her, Tim was quick to sow doubt. “You really think Amity Park can’t survive one night without you? Or is it just about her? Seems like you don’t trust me to be enough.”

Danny hesitated, his frustration visible, but he stayed. Over time, Val’s invitations stopped, and Danny didn’t ask why.

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Sam and Tucker’s visit to Gotham was no different. Danny had been excited to see them, but when the weekend came, Tim hit a low point.

“Do you really need to see them right now?” Tim asked, his voice soft but pointed. “It’s been rough lately. I thought you’d want to focus on us.”

Danny faltered, guilt creeping in. “They already planned the trip…”

“And what about me?” Tim pressed, his voice taking on an edge. “Am I supposed to just sit here and wait while you run back to them? Is that what this is?”

Danny canceled the plans. He didn’t explain, just sent Sam a curt text: Can’t make it. Something came up. He ignored the flood of concerned messages that followed, shoving his phone into a drawer.

When Tim noticed the tension, he didn’t comment. Instead, he doubled down. “You’re better off without them. They don’t understand this life. Not like I do.”

Danny nodded, even as the distance from Sam and Tucker grew into something he didn't know how to bridge.

Tim wasn’t immune to Danny’s tactics either. Bruce invited Tim to family dinner, but Danny’s reaction was immediate. “You’re seriously going to leave me here? After everything?” he asked, his tone more accusation than question.

“It’s just dinner,” Tim said weakly, but Danny’s narrowed eyes stopped him.

“Right. And how long before you’re ‘just’ staying overnight at the Manor? Before Bruce drags you back into his plans? You think they care about you? They care about what you can do for them.”

Tim stayed, sending Bruce a quick excuse. When Dick called the next day, Tim brushed him off with a clipped, “Busy.” Danny noticed the tension but said nothing, a smug satisfaction flickering in his eyes when Tim didn’t bring up the family again.

When Damian later referred to Tim as “too busy playing house,” Danny felt a pang of guilt that he quickly buried under pride. At least Tim was his, now.

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They were each other’s shields against the world, but it came at a cost.

Danny missed Sam and Tucker fiercely but couldn’t bring himself to reach out, not when Tim would undoubtedly notice. Tim felt the growing distance from the Bats like a weight he couldn’t shake, but he didn’t try to repair it—not when Danny so clearly needed him more.

The truth was simple and ugly: they weren’t protecting each other. They were controlling each other.

Danny missed the Tim who made him feel safe. Tim missed the Danny who didn’t flinch at “I love you.” But neither of them could stop. Because if Sam and Tucker weren’t there for Danny, and the Bats weren’t there for Tim, they only had each other.

And maybe that was the point.