#redbird tim drake

[monst]

Go for a drive?

Tim Drake X Gn. Reader

Extra: Fluff, Fairly Suggestive. Established relationship, A meandering conversation with your bf as he takes you on a drive. Don’t be a Tim & Please drive safely!

WC: 2.1K 

      You were clutching at the shades Tim had chucked at you earlier; Desperately trying to keep them from flying off your face from the high-speed winds. The grey pavement was never-ending as the car Oh, excuse you as the ‘It’s a Lexus LFA 4.8liters v10 god this car’s a beast! Shame, that they only made so many before production ended’ roared down the Jersey countryside. The meter read 160mph, and climbing. With your death grip on the lens and arms of the shades, you turned to Timothy. “Do we really need the windows down?” 

    “Nope.” He rolled them up, while his right hand reached out in a grabby motion. Releasing your grip on the shades you linked your fingers with his cold ones. When Tim asked you to go on a drive with him you weren't expecting him to keep to the speed limit however, you did expect him to stay near Gotham. You should’ve expected the longer drive once he pulled up to your street with ‘his baby’. 

     “Sounds nice.” You commented after a couple of minutes of silent hand-holding. 

     “Doesn’t it!” He grinned, “It’s designed this way so that you can hear the v10 tone inside the car.” His obvious enthusiasm for the car was infectious! “Right now we’re listening to nine-thousand rpm! Uh that’s how fast the engine’s spinning it’s why the” He pauses suddenly face flushed, pretty blue eyes averted. “Sorry, I’m rambling.” 

    “No, it’s cute!” You insist. “I like hearing you talk about your interests even if some of this car stuff is kinda going over my head.” You squeeze his fingers, urging him to continue. His responding okay is small but he clears his throat to continue. His eyes shift to you briefly before crinkling at the corners when he faces the road. 

     “Right, I think that my favorite part about this car is how I got it.” 

     “Spill, what’d you do?” you tilt your legs, leaning your torso towards him like a sunflower. 

     “Nothing devious.” he rolls his eyes. 

     “That’s surprising knowing you.” You tease. “Didn’t win it by finding the key to the fifth dimension or something?” 

     “No, nothing that exciting.” He bit back a smile, happy that you're poking fun at his frankly ridiculous escapades. “Um, I was maybe fifteen when Bruce brought her home.” He ignored your giddy ‘her?’ with a huff. “Yes her, It was one of the last ones made and I wasn’t supposed to drive it, but you’ve seen her!? I just had to!” 

     “I took her out a couple of weeks later.” You felt the car slow, Tim’s hand briefly leaving yours to mess with the GPS. 

        “With permission?” 

    His pink flush was enough of an answer. He clears his throat again, a little habit you’d begun to associate with him doing when he was feeling sheepish. “Well, Bruce did say I could use any car I wanted if an emergency presented itself.” You were dying to ask. 

       “What emergency?” You interrupted yet again. To be fair to you, you knew Tim would skim out details he thought were unimportant if you didn’t practically interrogate him. 

      “BatBurger’s limited addition Gotham Knights’ Nightwing toy…” 

    “A battymeal!?” You laughed. 

    “Yeah, yeah laugh it up. The resale is about thirty thousand.” You choked on your laugh, eyes wide. 

    “For a five-dollar meal toy?!” 

    “Mhmm. And mine still works. It was one of those toys that say phrases.” Out of your peripheral, you see a car pull out into the road in front of you. Tim slows. “So he still says “Let’s go Knights!” and “Strike out!” it doesn’t sound like Dick at all!” He chuckles. “The Knights were in the playoffs that year!.. And that year alone.”  

     You snort, eyes fixed on the road, still trying to glean where you're going. “I knew it was bound to be a novelty item one day. So, I just had to snatch it up, and if my car just so happened to be the only one with gas to get me there~”

     “Two birds one stone?”

     “Two birds one stone.” He affirmed. “Alfred was picking up groceries that morning, Bruce was in a meeting and Dick was working at the BPD at the time.” Your eyes met once more before he continued. “And since it was early, that meant everyone else was occupied so I drove the sickest! car through the drive-thru that day. Unfortunately, I did get caught.” 

     “Seriously?” 

     “Yup, Kevin’s dad was picking up some coffee right across the street, ‘said he recognized my hair when he blabbed to Bruce.” 

    “Kevin?”

    “Hudman, we used to play Wizards and Warriors together.” He rolled his eyes when you called him a nerd. “I’m pretty sure you said you loved me the other day so what does that say about you that you love a nerd?” 

   “That I have good taste” You saw his smile pull at his cheeks and decided to add. “So roleplay huh?” 

   “Get your head out of the gutter.” 

   “Oh, so you only like the tabletop role-play?” He groaned, cheeks pink as he narrowed his eyes at you. 

   “You're lucky I’m driving.” 

   “Kinky.” 

   “Are you gonna let me finish?” he sighed. You bit your lip at the wording, omitting words to nod while raising your eyebrows suggestively. He cleared his throat, brain catching up to his words “As I was saying, He called Bruce and I got in trouble. He didn’t let me knowingly touch the car for months. Then one day it was gone.” You felt the car turn down a new path, scattered farms and homes on either side of the road. 

    “Thought for sure he used it for a cover story but I looked through articles and no Lexy-” You cut him off once again. 

    “I’m sorry?! You did not name the car Lexy.” 

    “Don’t listen to her Lexy it’s a good name.” “Oh my god” “I checked the lower levels of the cave, nothing. I even asked Bruce and he said that he could’ve sworn Jason took it. So obviously I hunted him down”

     He paused his tale to check the map. “We're almost there. So, I found him in Ibiza. He said he didn’t take it, but that Dick had mentioned something about "hot new wheels". I called him right there! On the beach and got the worst sunburn of my life. The third worst sunburn of my life. Regardless. I wanted to make sure. Dick didn’t have it. I was this close to losing it but that’s when B decided to take a spontaneous leave of absence. And I had to go back. Oh, here we are.” 

      He pulled into a semi-filled lot, at the center was an old building a decent line leading up to it. “Ice-cream? This far out?” You were skeptical.

     “Wait till you try it~” His car drew more stares than the Tim Drake-Wayne. Said ‘Wayne’ taking your hand in his as he walked you to queue the line. You eyed the menu from your spot, nudging Tim with your elbow. “What happened next? You said you had to go back to Gotham?”

     “Mm.” He replied. “He was gone for a while.”

     “You missed him?” He squeezed your hand. 

     “A bit.”

     Tim’s arm settled across your shoulder as you waited, the sunlight glowing gold-orange as each person in the line received their icy treat. “Hey Joe, my usual, and what are you ordering honey?” You told ‘Joe’ your order, cuddling into Tim’s side as the cooling wind nipped at your nose. Tim chatted with the man, introduced you, and promised the man a ride during the time it took for him to make and hand over your ice cream, 

     You waved at Joe before hopping back into your seat. Peeking into his waffle bowl to see Nepoliation ice cream topped with a gooey-looking brownie. “You seem to know everyone.” He shrugged, his blank expression morphing into a concerned pout. You smirked watching as he struggled to figure out where best to place his bowl. “Just give it.” 

     “You sure?” You opened and closed your palm, and he handed it over with a quick thanks. Once the engine roared to life you were off again. Where? Tim had said both places were a surprise. You hummed while you lapped at your ice cream, Tim fiddling with the buttons on the wheel. He shot you an apologetic look as he pulled out his phone to drive one-handed. 

     “If we die I’m going to kill you.” 

     “We’re not gonna die, and your hands are full.” He protested. “I have a playlist.” 

     “Great so my death will have a soundtrack.” You paused. “Oh my god did we drive all that with no music!?” Were you that into him? Oh. You felt your cheeks warm glad for the music notes that left the speaker. Only that- “Wait? So where was the car in all of this?”

     “Well, apparently he had Clark move it.” “Huh?” “Yeah! Caught me off guard too, When he came back I told you how he adopted me. And then not long after, Damian turned up and everything got hectic.” His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. “The cave blew up and I wasn’t even thinking of the car. I think it was years later when I thought of it again, saw one at a show. I figured that it was still down there in pieces.” 

    “But Clark had it?”

    “Getting there baby, It was my twenty-first birthday. Legal to drink and I know that’s why he gave it to me on that day.” Tim was smiling glancing off to the side mirror before making another turn. “It was Dick’s idea to wrap the car in car shape. I was really excited! At first, I thought it was a different car. But the air freshener was still the same. My name on the little tree!” Your cheeks hurt from your smile. “Bruce told Clark to hide it. Still can’t believe it!

     “That’s so sweet.” Tim ducked his head a bit, ears rosy. “So your favorite part is that it was a surprise or a gift?”

     “Both,” He hummed. 

     “Hm.” You looked down to your ice cream and then eyed his bowl. “Your ice cream is melting.” 

     “Shoot! Uh, Feed me?” You sputtered, floundering for a bit before sighing, face hot as you mumbled a strained sure. You still haven’t figured out how he distinguishes what he considers embarrassing. You lifted the plastic spoon to his lips watching with amusement as he twisted his mouth to eat. Tame Impala played in the background when he turned down what looked like an abandoned road. 

      “I’ve got it from here,” He said around the spoon as he drove up to the precipice. You let him turn off the engine before handing him his bowl, turning back to finish yours. 

      “So where are we?” 

      “We are currently sitting at the best place to watch the meteor shower in all of Jersey.” 

      “That’s today?” 

      “Yes. At least I’m pretty sure it’s today. I made sure to double-check to see if anything was gonna throw them off their planned orbit.” He turned to his watch. “Yup should be good, in about an hour or two.” He tipped the bowl up to his lips to drink the remains of the ice cream. 

      “An hour or two?” 

      “Maybe two..” He began to chew at the sides of his bowl. 

      “Tim.” You pressed. 

      “We’re a bit early.” You rolled your eyes. “I timed it right, we were only supposed to wait about thirty minutes?!”

      “Tim, Darling” He frowned at your tone. “Did you account for your speeding?” His wide-eyed stare was as cute as it was frustrating. “So what we just sit here?”

      Tim looked out the driver's side window, the overgrown grass giving him pause in asking you to take a stroll. He mulled over his options as you finished up your ice cream, pink tongue peaking out to catch all traces of the sticky treat from your lips. You perceived his stare, his heavy lids narrowed down towards your lips. “We could do something else.”

      “Like what?”

      “Maybe..." He pulled his seat as far back as it went, dark eyes locked onto your form. "You can come over here and find out~”

      “In the Lexus LFA 4.8liters v10?! Timothy!" You gasped, mock scandalization dripping from your tone, your hands quickly undoing your seatbelt. Your body practically materializes onto the driver's seat, your weight settling against Tim. You feel more than you hear Tim’s 'harumph' and you can’t stop your grin against his lips as you ask just for kicks “In Lexy?!” 

[g1rlr0b1n]

Bart, Conner, and Tim playing an online game before ever meeting in real life:

Bart: being from Central City is crazy man! I can't take any of these "villians" seriously. Captain Boomerang, what the hell is that?! This is a silly place.

Conner: Metropolis isn't too bad, you know aside from the power hungry CEO trying to duke it out with a God level alien...I mean, this place kind of is an alien magnet though...but somehow it still feels safer to live here than Gotham.

Bart: I know right, that place gives me the creeps!

Conner: and they're protected by an army of Bat people. Let's be honest here, those are vampires and that is a coven.

Bart: absolutely! Hey, have you noticed like all of their high profile criminals have PHDs? Why are so many smart people unhinged in Gotham?

Conner: it's in the water man, my dad says it's toxic!

Bart: Gross! Glad I don't live there.

Conner: yeah Gotham is Trash

Bart: the literal worst

Conner: ...So Redbird, where are you from?

Tim: Gotham

Conner: Oh

Bart: Oh

Tim: yeah

Conner:

Bart:

Tim: it's pretty trash

[zahri-melitor]

Detective Comics #950:

I was delighted by Cass and by JPV in here, but honestly the best part of this issue?

The return of Tim’s best beloved.

REDBIRD RIDES AGAIN.

[nenehyuuchiha]

Chapters: 11/11 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon Additional Tags: Helena Bertinelli is Huntress, The Question, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne Gets Therapy, Jason Todd and Damian Wayne Meet in the League of Assassins, Jason Todd and Damian Wayne are Siblings, Huntress/Question - Freeform, (it's a small plot point but a hill I WILL die on), canon was taken to a chop shop, canon was used for parts, Not Beta Read, Sadly, as sad as tim's bowl cut, Tim Drake and Dick Grayson are Siblings, Road Trips, Lazarus Pit Side Effects (DCU), Batfamily (DCU), POV Alternating, The Rogues Gallery (Batman) Summary:

“His name is Jason Todd.” Damian waits for her to explain the significance, or for his mind to tell him. He knows of no great fighter with that name, of no great ally or foe from his lessons with Sensei on League history. "He was the Batman's son. He was Robin."

"A brother?" Damian asks.

OR

Damian meets Jason while Talia is taking care of him, post-resurrection but pre-Lazarus pit. (Includes chapters with what Dick & Tim are getting up to in Gotham + Bruce gets therapy.)

[yj-98]

oh sick a car appreciator. what cars would u have based the redbird on?

oohhh im glad u asked... to preface this btw im a car appreciator not exactly an. expert. i love old (40s-80s) cars (i grew up w/ my dream car being an aqua 1965 mustang convertible) but im not like. incredibly knowledgeable

that being said :] ! onward with redbird thoughts

shes supposed to be a rear engined sporty little coupe. modified to high hell. i would wager the rear engine is more so that tim can have weapons (missiles? grenade launcher? a fucking flamethrower?) under the hood and less actually thinking abt what a rear engine could DO for his driving experience at the ripe age of 14. its got a lowered chassis (rear-engine has a lower center of gravity, and if its a rear-wheel drive then overall its saving even More space cramped in the back, and probably has a better "grip" on the road) and apparently has pop out scoops for better airflow.. probably for the best.

its also got a bulletproof windshield! and blacked out windows! are those even legal in jersey? no! the tire shields are fine i guess

my problem with red bird is that shes just a little ugly. like there are things in the body of this car that have potential (i like the pop out scoops but they make the overall silhouette of the car look sort of . back heavy in a bad way) but ultimately fall flat.

so im gonna look at some cars that i think still sell the look they were going for!! FROM his time period even!!

the ferrari testarossa (produced from '84-'96 and im looking at the late 80s/early 90 ones here)

this is my ideal car to base redbird on. its a mid-engine, which has the best overall center of gravity, and while it limits cabin space its not like we were worried abt tht with tim. its still a 2 door sports car with a low chassis. the air scoops dont need to pop out, it has room in the back for the drag 'schute that they wanted to include, and has the room in the front too. also! she looks KILLER in red<3

the pontiac firebird trans am (1993) + chevy corvette ('90 red c4)

this is included in case we do not want to look at ferrari. sporty! red! coupe! i have less to say abt these ones honestly

i could just start naming other sporty coupes but my point being like.... theres cars of this era with the look theyre going for that look perfectly fine in the three different price ranges (general motors making pontiac as their low-tier, chevrolet as their bigger make) and ferrari at the luxury tier

ik 15 years later tim gets a new redbird (2008 i believe) and i do believe they WERE referencing real cars for redbird i simply think. it would not look like that. and didnt have to! less is more. if you want a cool looking aerodynamic sports car then she should look sleek. redbird drawn in the comics doesnt look sleek she just looks silly </3

ultimately i dont want to change her too much from being tim's (say it with me) sporty little red coupe. because thats not a bad thing for a car to be! i just dont think there was that much thought into what the car should look like aside from looking at a picture of a sports coupe and going "ok now add a flamethrower and a parachute"

[cryptocollectibles]

Robin #1 (November 1993) by DC Comics

Written by Chuck Dixon, drawn by Tom Grummett and Scott Hanna.

[catsauceeartofficial]

Relief crashes onto Tim so hard and fast, he chokes on a sob. He crumples forward and rests his forehead against Redbird's, punching out a breathless sigh. Even as tears roll down his face both from the crash of adrenaline and the immense relief, Tim refuses to move his hand to wipe his tears.

“I owe you so much dragon-nip,” Tim laughs hoarsely, "So much."

-

When your hyperfixation wained so you put off the chapter for almost a year but you're very determined to see this through :'))

Sorry for the wait! But the chapter is up! We have one more chapter to go!!!

[automaticsoulharmony]

But what if Tim doesn’t know how to drive a normal car?

[mantimae]

Ok ok so, the other day I skateboarded to the grocery store and it made me think Tim Drake would have absolutely had a skateboard with himself as Robin on it. Cities and towns LOVE to capitalize on their cryptids and urban legends (from someone who grew up in a cryptid centric city) so ofc as soon as The Bat hit the streets there would be unregulated merch of him, bc who’s gonna stop them??? The anonymous vigilante??? Absolutely no shot.

Anyways. Back to my point- young teenager Tim was known as the Robin with a skateboard (it’s a hobby, a way around after he lost Redbird privileges, he loves it) and even designed his Redboard specifically with the Robin logo, so ofc when he sees the shitty little Gotham City Sk8s store by the park has a board with HIS Robin on it, he has to have it. Look me in the eyes and show me a teenage boy with enough money who wouldn’t buy themselves on usable merch.

The headcanon brain worm got to me and I ended up designing and doing a 3D mockup of the thing (complete with the badly designed freebie sticker that came from the store with purchase), if it continues to munch away at my focus I might even write a fic abt it later kdjfkmdkdks (also tumblr said my gif file was too big </3 so y’all get a lil mp4 instead Ou<)

Still image showcase and original design art below the cut >:P

[cosmicpoutine]

racer vigilante tim drake design because the one thing this man is good at is driving, and they should bring the love of his life, redbird, back.

bonus tim without the helmet, but i got frustrated and gave up halfway.

and before some idiot comments why he needs a helmet if he's piloting redbird, he also has a motorcycle if i remember correctly (and the super-cycle)

also, if you bring up red hood's helmet, i will eat your mother with a ceasars salad

[mamawasatesttube]

ok i put a longer post abt tim's Emotional State in drafts for when my brain is less melted but re: tim and going to college im just gonna get a lil silly with it. hear me out.

i have this whole vague story in my mind for tim's college days moonlighting as red robin as he tries and figures out what he wants out of life. (it's a while after rr leaves off and all because he's like. Super Depressed for a hot minute and then has to drag himself through actually bothering to get his GED and applying to college, etc., but eventually lucius is like hey. you're great with gadgets, and you clearly love tinkering. i'd hire you for r&d in a heartbeat but you need at the least a bachelor's of engineering. i know you have a lot of the technical skills, but you need a degree. so tim goes ugh fine i'll get a goddamn engineering degree how hard can it possibly be.)

anyways. i think it's a universal experience that if you go to college and you hang with the STEM crowd, you will unfortunately get to know at least one Fucking Guy. it's like brentwood arc; tim does make friends, but there is just this One Fucking Guy he cannot stand and will never stand. this Fucking Guy is in the common room playing his guitar at midnight. he's drunk and yelling and laughing really loud when people have exams coming up. he's convinced everyone adores him. there's also a detective/supernatural plot going on. the subplot is just that tim hates This Fucking Guy.

at some point, there's a story beat where he as red robin has to rescue That Fucking Guy from a real dicey situation, and That Fucking Guy is really shaken and grateful to him, and he's like okay. maybe. maybe we are making progress. but then the next time he encounters This Fucking Guy as tim drake, the guy is just like. "ohhhh hey drake you missed it last night, it was AWESOME!!! i had to save red robin from a KILLER ROBOT. he's pretty cool though i guess. i bet you wish you could be more like him huh??" and tim is just. I Will Not Grind My Teeth About This. I Will Not. his life is a fucking joke. he dismantles the toaster oven in the common room kitchen to cope. it's definitely to cope and not just so that That Fucking Guy won't be able to heat up his pop tarts in the morning.

at another point, This Fucking Guy looks at street mode, lowkey, unremarkable Normal Car-looking redbird and goes, aw, dude, i thought your dad is loaded?? he only got you a generic-ass sedan?? that sucks lol, if you want we can take my car down to the game instead. and tim is just Say One More Fucking Word About My Baby I Dare You I Fucking Dare You One More Fucking Word.

(also i like to toy with the idea of this being a university in metropolis - he's out of gotham, but not too far. keeps him from getting antsy about what if he's needed because he can get right back over there. and in the meantime, he can hang out with kon and kara a lot, and occasionally enable and be enabled by lois lane and her snooping habits. there's another subplot in which tim and lois get up to shenanigans. at least once.)

it's sort of an introspective thing of him trying to come to terms with the way he no longer wants a fully normal life the way he always used to assume he would - he has the option to walk away from the cape now, like he always thought he would one day, but he just can't give it up anymore. he's fallen into the same black hole he watched dick and bruce dive headlong into. it's also about him finding joy in tinkering and working with his hands and getting to spend more time as tim drake first and foremost. and it's about him venting to kon about That Fucking Guy while they have a lil picnic on the green while kon loses his absolute shit laughing. all against the backdrop of a little mystery or something. <3

OH and also, most importantly. zoanne wilkins is there and laughing at him for assuming college would be easy. and kon gets her into wendy the werewolf stalker. My City Now.

[hanihazeljade]

Three Hopes

A little flashback as to why Timothy moved to Japan.

Start -Three Weeks

Prev - Three Idiots

Next - Three Events

"You know what Tim? Go off the grid for all I care! That's the only thing you are good at!" Dick shouted at him, clearly too fed up with Tim's shit.

"I beg your pardon?" Tim asked, face full of disbelief as what his supposed older brother just said.

"Tim, please. Stop antagonising Damian and Dick, and be more mature, that is what we need you for." Bruce said, hoping his statement would diffuse the tension but it just made it much thicker, too unbearable to breathe.

Tim scoffed, "So, if I am not mature enough, I am not needed, Bruce?" he huffed, if they are fed up with him, he was also fed up with them, "Fine! I don't want to be the mature one, Bruce. I quit!" He said as he took off his bandoliers and slammed it to the nearest table to him.

He heard Bruce call him back but he just ignored the older man as he rode Redbird back to his Nest. He can feel the tears creep to his eyes but he stopped it, he will not cry while driving. He can cry if he was alone in his safehouse, in his nest, where he will be all alone but at least safe with no more judgement and expectations. He can feel the irritation of his person when he starts to sniffle. He can control his tears, he has been since he can remember, afterall, Janet is a strict mother who hates a lot of unnecessary noises.

He parked at his underground garage and the tears all burst out. All he could feel is shame, betrayal and disbelief. After all he did to those ungrateful bastards?! Then he remembers his role, a substitute to Jason until Batman finally gets a hold of himself. Tim being Robin is something temporary. Bruce doesn't want him, Dick doesn't want him and Alfred doesn't want him but he forces his way. And now they have someone who could fill the Robin mantle that they actually like, Tim is not needed. He is now a bandage to an already healed wound.

He was the one holding the teared-up rope when Bruce started to become extremely violent, the tension of pulling Bruce to sanity is insane, as time goes by, the tension eased. And when Jason came back, the tension suddenly became too much to bear. And then Damian came and he almost let the rope go, but he didn't. Then everyone started to leave him. The rope starts to kill him, but he will never let go. The rope burns him as he tries to find a way to bring Bruce back. And when he did, the rope finally stopped to burn him, to kill him, and then it loosened as the time went by.

After 8 years of holding the damn rope that is finally tightly tied back, he can feel so idiotic. He stayed with the Wayne's until it was long overdue. He is not needed to hold the rope anymore. He cried, sobbed, screamed and just let himself go. He cannot believe himself, he was supposed to be the smart one and yet he didn't notice the obvious lack of space for him in the Manor and yet he still tried to squeeze himself in. Maybe it was because he longed for affection. Maybe it was because he longed for human interaction. Maybe he longed for a family that is physically there.

He doesn't know how long he was crying until his throat is parched, tears are drying to his cheeks, sniffling as he leaves RedBird. He emailed Tam that he will be taking a leave of absence for three days. He only needs three days to pull himself together, and to tie the loose ends. He is good at that, afterall he is Janet Drake's son. He needs a plan, to finally leave the suffocating atmosphere in the Wayne's.

+++++++

On the third day of his leave of absence, he dropped his resignation letter to Lucius Fox. He is already all packed up, his disguise as Caroline Hill is on set. And with that he takes a cab to take him to the airport. A plane will take him to England, and he hopes that he can restart his life somewhere and sometime in the near future. He will try to hope his life will get better after his falling out with the Wayne's. Because maybe, this is the push that he needed to make himself known that he is worthy of something. Maybe he will love himself and will take care of his person first before pleasing others. Maybe.

Brighton, England

Brighton is almost the same in Gotham in terms of not being able to see the sun. But the air is fresher, more breathable and more relaxing than in Gotham and it kind off makes him miss the pollution in Gotham.

Staying in England was nice, but staying for too long in one place is very risky of him getting caught. 

'Getting off the grid, huh, Richard?' he thought as he smirked. If they think he can find him once he goes off the grid, they are wrong. Afterall, he fried every single tracker Bruce has on him, and even the implant tracker in his tooth. His heartbeat was concealed by the white noise generator that is disguised as a necklace, even Superman can't hear him unless he shout his name. 

Brighton is actually a good place to stay but too bad, he needs to get out now before one of the bats finds a clue where he is.

‘A game of cat and mouse, too bad for them, I am an excellent mouse that hides in Drake Manor.’ he thought as he rode the train to France.

Marseille, France

He missed France, after he sent himself to learn from Rahul Lama. When he was in France, all he did was to study martial arts, he never had a chance to sightsee anything. Sure he can see the Eiffel Tower in his window but he would rather learn martial arts faster.

But now, he has all the time he had. With his income as a shareholder in Wayne Enterprises, that goes half in Caroline Hill and Alvin Draper's bank account. He knows better than to directly wired his salary to those accounts so he may or may not have hacked the bank to make sure that his transactions are deleted after he deposits those cash.

He is currently chilling on the balcony of his rented room for the week as he looks at the beautiful sea of Marseille. He was thinking about how to get back to the bats, call him petty, but being a part of the Bats made him dramatic. And petty. And also Jack Drake taught him that a Drake will always have the last say in anything. 

He sighed as there was no idea how to make it a complicated puzzle with an obvious answer. He leans on his recliner as he looks at the framed goods in his room for the sake of aesthetics. His eyes drifted to a framed piece of thick paper that showed a photograph of the beautiful port of Marseille. He slowly smirked as an idea to make those bats lose their shit.

Dhaka, Bangladesh

"Detective." 

"Ra's."

"You can always come to me, Timothy."

"I will not come to you, even if you are the last man that exists in the world."

"You are so mean to the only person who cares for you, Timothy."

"If the people like you care about me, I would rather have no one then." Tim said as a dagger struck Ra's chest. Ra's look behind Timothy and he can see the shine of red armour. 

"Shiva?! This is treachery!"

"It is not. I work for myself, I never vow my loyalty to you." Shiva said as she unsheathed her sabre and gave it to Timothy, "Have the honour, my dear protege." She said and Tim went and grabbed Ra's head with his hair, "Long live the king." He smirked as he beheaded the Demon. Letting the body hit the ground.

The blood sputters into his face and sage green sweater. He gave back Shiva her sabre, "Thank you." Tim said and Shiva retrieved her sabre and turned her back to Tim.

"I have one question and we can pretend that this never happens."

"Yes?"

"Is she... now happy?"

It took Tim a good second to process to know who Shiva is talking to, he smiled, "Yeah, she has an adorable laugh, you will want to hear it." he said.

"No, that is all I need to know." Shiva said as she disappeared to the shadows.

Luebeck, Germany

Luebeck is beautiful.

Students are everywhere. And he blends in so quickly.

He made a dumb decision and enrolled himself for an online course in photography.

It is dumb, he should not be rooting to one place but here he is. With his black hair and blue eyes, he looks like one normal kid. He has a small apartment near the campus and he really like it here. He wanted to be a normal kid for at least his time here. He is praying to any entities that they give him all the luck he had for this peaceful time here in Germany.

Florence, Italy

Having more background in photography than his own impromptu on-the-spot-as-soon-as-possible-evidence-to-prove-Bruce-Wayne-is-Batman expedition, his photos are more pleasing. After taking his photos and professionally photoshop it, he is happy to have his portfolio to become thicker and thicker. It is pride and joy.

Florence is a good place to have his photography certificate to put in the test. Architecture and arts from the Renaissance, also Italian men, was a nice thing to photograph and his parent's heritage was showing, as he curiously read every single historical means of each piece. And he is enjoying every single data that he accumulates, unlike the bloody gores of Gotham's cold cases.

Life is good.

Shanghai, China

Cass found him.

Tim knows having a quick sightseeing in China is a big risk for his sister to find him but he also thinks that Cass is in Hong Kong not Shanghai, there is no way Cass has to be in the Mainland because why would she? She has her own agenda in Hong Kong, and he would not be caught by his sister.

Wrong.

So he became lousy, he became overconfident with past years that he already eluded the batfam that he forgot the best spotter of the family. Cassandra. He was shocked when he was photographing the Yu Garden when someone hugged him from behind. He knows the hug. The bone crushing hug that he always craves, especially these past years, has been hard for him. After the realisation of who is hugging him, he looks at the person he will die for.

"Hey Cass."

Hokkaido, Japan

He settled down.

He breathed in the cold air of Hokkaido, chills going to his spine. But the winter chills of Hokkaido are so much different than the smog chills of Gotham. Here, he was more at peace. There is also a sense of security here, as there are no bats that have been snooping around all his things and business. He was more reckless, the 13 year old him would kick his arse if he saw him being this reckless, though not reckless to give away his location, after all he was giving the bats the most mind fuck riddle that he could give.

Even Riddler can’t fucking decipher that shit.

+++++++++

"Any clues?"

"No."

"Have you checked any airlines or any cruises?"

"I had no Tim Drake, Timothy Drake, Timothy Drake-Wayne, or even Alvin Draper."

"If you may Miss Barbara, search for the name Caroline Hill too."

"Sure, I guess?"

"Why is that, Alf?"

"It is one of Master Tim's past that he would rather be forgotten."

"Found her. She did take a flight to London, England."

"Any other transactions under her name?"

"Nope."

"Transactions under any of Tim's name?"

"Currently checking."

They got cut by the bang behind them. They look at who could possibly do it and they see Jason.

"Any news about Replacement?"

"He took a flight to England."

"And?"

"Dead end." Barbara voices the speakers.

"That's it? We are the most advanced technology and we can't find one little bird. Amazing." Jason sarcastically said.

++++++

Nine months later...

Jason is still looking over to the different safehouses of Tim, maybe the little shit is just here hiding in one of his hidden safehouses.

Jason has all of the safehouses of Tim mapped out and he somehow still coming back to the penthouse in the Metropolis under Luthor's building and when he went there after almost a year of the baby bird go off the grid, the penthouse was sold to a Lynn Winters, a hot chic if he was going to be honest. Long blonde hair with such a lean body, Jason probably asked her out if he is not busy looking where the baby bird is. 

He is stalking the chic when he got a notification that Dick got a postcard from Tim. He left Metropolis and looked to go to the Manor. It took him three hours of non-stop driving and beating probably twenty red lights and he went to the Manor.

"It is also necessary to factor in the fact that that postcard is not selling anywhere. My theory is that Tim takes a picture of Gotham, makes his own postcard and sends it here." Barbara said.

All that they received is a postcard of Gotham. But Gotham is in New Jersey, Tim is here in New Jersey and they didn't even notice. None of their alarms go off. 

"For what?" Damian asked, irritation is showing in his face.

"For petty revenge, I told him that he can go off the grid." Dick said.

++++++

They thought it was finished with that. But Tim keeps on sending postcards that he made. Sometimes every other week but sometimes after a month. After almost two years of sending his homemade postcard, he stopped with a picture of him in front of Tokyo Skytree with a word saying good luck with a blep emoticon.

They will never know what the good luck is for until those postcards that were addressed to Dick were caught in the crossfire of roughhousing playing of Jason Todd and Stephanie Brown that somehow includes a flamethrower. It quickly got shut down when the postcard got dangerously close to the flames. Alfred made the two of them clean up and while cleaning up he notices that most of the ink disappears and was left by a single number.

"Hey Steph!"

"What?!"

"Look at the postcards that you have, do they have a number?" Jason asked.

"What number?" She asked as she flipped one postcard revealing a number 17, instead of one of his beautiful experiences to the certain place. She starts flipping every single one of the postcards and some of them have some of the message they once read but some have a number. "Friction pen." she mumbled.

"This is fucking game to him, doesn't he?" Jason chuckled sarcastically. "How did he even think about this shit?"

Someone coughed behind them, "I do believe that I told you to clean up, Master Jason and Miss Stephanie."

Jason raised one of the postcards, "We may have found a new clue about Baby Bird." 

++++++

They put single one of the fucking postcards near the flames and not every single one has a number on them, there are dummy cards. They arranged it to chronologically and it doesn't make any fucking sense.

The first one was still the Gotham one, next is Norway, then Egypt, France, Belgium, Sudan, Bangladesh, Italy, Ghana, Cuba, Netherlands, Italy, followed by two postcards of Greece and then Romania, Korea, Germany, Morocco, France, CHina, Russia, Iceland, Turkey, Nepal, Vietnam, and last is Japan. They have known the country by using google image and they know some cities too, but most of the postcards' cities are still unknown.

It took them (just Oracle and Bruce, to be honest) five days to finally have every single city and finally crack the message whatever Tim wants to say to them and it makes Jason cackled. The cities have their corresponding number and Jason just laughs his soul out.

"G O I N G O F F T H E G R I D I S E A S Y R I G H T" 

Dick was hurt, Jason can see it and he is just laughing so hard making his family eyed him weirdly but Tim is just amusing and Jason wants to keep him in the pocket and just have him so bad. The picture perfect kid has finally snapped and now they can't do anything until Tim says so. 

+++++++

Dick is truly hurt by what Tim just did. Sending him postcards gave him so much joy as he was the only one who got them, even Alfred didn't send anything which is huge! But knowing that sending him those postcards just to deliver a truly petty revenge just... 

He knows why Tim sent that message. It was the last thing Dick told him and his brother had been hiding and nobody could track him. Even Cass for Christ's sake! Barbara is the best tech person he could think of, but she also has her limits. She can't track someone that has dumped a lot of paper trail and if they need to verify which is which, they are just going into a wild goose chase.

Tim is somewhere out there and even Superman can't find him, unless he shouts. Clark can't hear his heartbeat and Dick just wants to apologise to his brother. But somehow he knows that is so far from possible.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter seven: just get me through the night | read chapter six

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.8k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

Steph believes you when you tell her you tripped and hurt your wrist.

After all, it’s not exactly a lie. That is what happened. It just… happened to occur while you were being advanced upon by, you know, the Batman.

You don’t tell her that last part. It’ll just worry her, you think, and she was worried enough about you that following day, when you told her about how your shift was cut short and how you hurt yourself. She fretted about you coming back to your shitty apartment in Coventry on your own but you made up a lie about catching a taxi. 

(Technically, in a way, you suppose it could’ve been the truth but you don’t imagine Red would appreciate Redbird being referred to as a taxi service; though, at the same time, he drives like a literal maniac, so, it doesn’t fit.

And yes, he did name his car.

And yes, it is actually named Redbird.

He claims he gets around by motorcycle more these days but that obviously wasn’t conducive with the weather, so he used the car instead. A very high-tech, ultra-expensive car that you had to wonder how the hell he managed to get. He’s your age, after all. But you refrained from asking. It’s impolite, considering everything he did for you.)

After Steph’s shift, you both head to her mom’s house, where Crystal Brown, a nurse at West Mercy, generously takes a look at your wrist, as equally as concerned as her daughter when she hears the story. 

“It’s just a sprain,” she says, frowning. “I can’t be entirely certain without an X-ray but I don’t think anything is broken or fractured. No need for a brace, either, but if it keeps bothering you…”

“I’ll get it checked out,” you agree easily. “Thank you, Ms. Brown.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Crystal.” 

“You know how she is, Mom,” Steph sighs, folding her arms over the back of the chair you’re in, dropping her chin to your head. 

“As hard-headed as you? Oh, I know.”

You smile bashfully as Steph snickers. Crystal rises from the table, stepping back to the stove, where she has dinner cooking. At their insistence, you agreed to spend the night. 

Crystal has always been kind to you. Both this summer and the previous one did she tell you you were welcome to live with her and Steph here at their shared home, since neither of you could live in the dorms unless you took classes during the summer. Steph abstained from them to get more experience and you abstained because your financial aid wouldn’t cover it, which left you grappling with a three-month lease at the shitty student apartments near GU. 

“No Tim?” Crystal asks, covering the pan, turning to look at you two.

Steph clicks her tongue, pulling away from you to flop into the chair beside yours; underneath the table, her ankle curls beneath yours, shin pressed to your calf. 

“Busy as usual.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“It’s not that big of a deal—” at the looks you get from both of them, you quickly backtrack “—I mean, I’ll tell him later… That new Mission Impossible movie came out a few weeks ago, so I was gonna see if we could watch it together…”

Crystal frowns. “But you don’t like those movies. Does Tim like those ridiculous movies?”

She probably wouldn’t be displeased if he did. Crystal isn’t overly fond of Tim. Steph says it’s because of their relationship when they were kids but sometimes, it feels far too deep for it to be just that. 

Still, she’s civil to him and he rarely says no when Steph invites him (and you) for dinner. If anything, you think Crystal doesn’t mind the opportunity to make him squirm. Steph probably doesn’t mind it, either. 

Steph stretches her arms above her head. “It would be on par with him but no. These two just like watching them and making fun of them. I’m good, though.” 

“I’ll tell him, then. He’d notice it, anyway, since my mobility is still limited, but yeah…”

“Well, be careful,” she says, mouth pursed. For some reason, it doesn’t feel like she’s talking about your wrist but about something else. 

Steph coughs. Crystal looks back to the stove. 

“Well, hopefully you two will see him soon. From what I’ve heard, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you say heavily. “A while.”

Crystal doesn’t pay more attention as she focuses on the sizzle of the chicken breast but Steph does, giving you a lingering look that makes you look away. 

You… try not to give away too much to her. 

You feel horrible enough to be in love with her ex-boyfriend; pining after him in her presence is just the icing on the World’s Worst Best Friend cake. 

That’s why you avoided him, after realizing the culmination of your feelings in May. 

To see if you could shake the feelings, if you could get rid of them.

Considering how hung up you are on him still, it hasn’t worked. 

But you still want to see him again. It’s selfish, probably, to be okay with avoiding him for your own gain and then when he does it on purpose, you want to put an end to it. 

But you know now it wasn’t okay. 

You want to see Tim, want to hear his bad science puns, you just want him around. 

Your feelings won’t go away for a while but avoiding him was the wrong decision. You just have to handle it on your own like an adult. 

You would if you could see him more.

You hope you can. Even if it kills you to act normally, to be okay with being friends. By this point, you’ve started to realize having him in any capacity is more than enough.

It has to be.

newest mission impossible movie came out… i can’t believe they’ve managed five of them and this one is only part one of the fifth one. they need to put that series down already

anyway :D in that case, was wondering if we could see it together? on sunday? i’ll get the tix and you get the snacks? we can get ice cream after and talk shit about it

i can’t, sorry! family dinner on sunday, then some other stuff before then and on sat too. see it and let me know about it, alright? :)

You cry when the end credits start rolling.

Not because the movie is good or moving or even so bad that it makes you cry, you’re just…

So tired. 

Tired of him never having time for you, for you and Steph. 

One part of you wants to give up. What’s the point, right? 

His continued lack of time means you can’t even apologize to him, can’t even ask if your initial avoidance was what led to his in the first place. 

Mostly because it feels like it doesn’t even matter at this point. 

Maybe this is what you deserve and there should be nothing else to say on the matter. 

But that hurts even more. 

You sit far at the back—shitty seats, he would say—but it gives you the privacy to shed a few tears. 

You leave only when the end credits are almost done rolling and the theater is empty. You don’t care about the looks people give you, coming out red-eyed and sniffling from the Mission Impossible movie. You just want to go back to your apartment and hide away for the rest of the summer. 

You emerge from the cinema; it’s only eight, so the sun is still out, warming you up from the chilly theater. Sighing, you start for the nearest station to take the subway back to Coventry.

You only get a couple blocks before your eyes catch the storefront of an ice cream parlor. Wallowing deep in self-pity by now, you easily take the detour. The patio in front of it is busy with people and through the large glass window, you see the line inside is long, too. But since you have nothing else to do, you head for it, anyway.

You’re halfway across the patio when you see it.

Through the window, in line for ice cream, is Tim. 

Your eyes found him immediately, without intention or purpose. Poetic, almost, were it not for the fact of seeing him here breaks your heart.

Here, not just by himself but with friends. Friends you’ve never met but know of from pictures at his place. 

You try to rationalize it initially, still standing there in the middle of the patio, staring into the parlor. Maybe the dinner was canceled. Maybe they dragged him out. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

But then it makes you feel second best. Second choice. That he didn’t think of you when his schedule freed up. 

That’s presumptuous, though, right? What gives you priority? Nothing, especially after what you pulled before. 

But the ache in your chest hardly allows for that much introspection or self-awareness.

Mostly… Mostly, you’re just hurt. 

Seeing him now, separated from you by thin glass, the yawning monster inside you that longs desperately for him is unleashed, because he is so close but he’s not here with you, for you. And that hurts. A physical thing, your chest tight, throat thick with growing emotion.

But then, he sees you. 

His head turns and you go rigid as your eyes meet his, which widen as he recognizes you.

It’s been long, so terribly long, since you’ve seen him. See the soft blue of his eyes, this lovely shade, like cornflowers. 

It makes this so much worse because you don’t think anything will change, even with this, so it’s like a taunt to see him, knowing this might be the last for a while. A long while. 

Another moment between you two, the surprise on his face morphing into something else and you look away before you can see what it is, turning on your heel.

You have to get out of here. 

The subway is across the street but the light just turned green. Too long.

The hiss of hydraulics snatches your attention. A bus, several feet away. One last person climbing on. You take off for it, scrambling for your wallet, ignoring how the rough motions make your wrist throb in protest.

You think you hear your name. You hope you don’t.

You barely wedge yourself in just as the doors close.

The bus driver eyes you with thinly-veiled suspicion but you pay the fare and take a seat at the far back, away from the windows.

You don’t even know where this bus is going. 

You don’t care.

You just have to get away. 

You bury your face in your hands, your tears flowing again as the bus pulls away from the curb.

The worst part about it, you think, is that he doesn’t reach out to you.

Neither does Steph, but you reason expecting that is irrational. Why would he talk to her? Why would he tell her what happened? 

You can’t do it, either. It’s for the best, maybe, that you don’t say anything about it at all. 

Instead, as soon as you get back into your apartment, you collapse onto your threadbare couch and take a nap. Only dragging yourself off it when you have to get up and get ready for your shift, accompanied with the headache throbbing in the center of your forehead. 

You trade off with the evening shift and things are quiet for the most part. To distract yourself (mostly to stop yourself from bursting into tears if you think too hard about what happened), you take on your night shift tasks with renewed vigor. Cleaning the floors, the machines, adjusting displays, doing inventory. 

Your wrist protests throughout it but you ignore it. 

Steph would scold you for it. 

So would Tim.

You pause in the middle of cleaning the counter near the Slurpee machine. Your wrist throbs at your side.

The sharp gust of wind and the sound of your name surprises you.

Shocks you, really, since you’re still a bit on edge from Batman’s visit last week and you yelp, turning around, throwing the wet cloth on instinct. 

Your visitor dodges it easily. It lands on the floor with a wet splat.

“Flash? What are you—what—?”

He tilts his head, grass-green eyes narrowing slightly, mouth pursing, and you get the unmistakable feeling of being scrutinized very closely.

“What are you doing here, Flash?” you question. 

He keeps making that face. “I wanted to see you.”

That surprises you. You blink. 

“Batman won’t like that.”

“Don’t care. I’m not here to cause trouble. Just here to see you. He can’t say anything.”

You don’t think that’ll stop him but you don’t say anything. Flash probably knows. He just doesn’t care. He’ll complain about it sometimes, go to lengths to avoid it, but other times, he just—doesn’t care. 

Flash continues to look at you. Scrutinizing you. 

You don’t bother trying to stop him from doing it. You’re too tired and the way your eyes are still red and swollen is telling, as well as the circles under your eyes. 

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Flash.”

His frown deepens and one of his hands comes to your shoulders. 

“Seriously… are you okay, kid?”

For some reason, that does it.

The smallest of splinters to your resolve first, your breath hitching, then it breaks entirely, emotion swelling inside you with tidal wave force, your vision blurring with tears.

Flash reels back in surprise at first, then softens, muttering, “Aw, kid,” and pulling you into a hug. 

It doesn’t feel perfunctory. Like he is doing this out of obligation at seeing you cry, like this is just another one of his duties as a superhero. It feels genuine, the way he holds you tightly against his chest, like you’re a child being comforted. 

That just makes you cry harder.

It takes a while for you to calm down. Then you get embarrassed, sniffling out an apology. 

He hands you a napkin, then pokes you affectionately on the forehead. 

“Geez, what do you take me for? I don’t mind. Besides, worse bodily fluids have ended up on me. Way worse. This is nothing.”

You laugh wetly. 

He squeezes your shoulder. “Seriously, though. Seems like you’ve got some stuff to talk about. What’s going on?”

You squeeze your eyes shut as a fresh wave of tears briefly takes hold of you. You take a deep breath, working through it, blowing your nose. 

Flash grabs two Slurpees, one cherry and one blue raspberry, and hops up on the counter, patting the spot beside him. You manage to wriggle up using just your right hand, your left still throbbing.

With plenty of breaks in between to cry a little bit more, you tell him everything that has gone on for the past month. Including the stuff with Red and the others, then your impromptu visit from Batman last week. 

“That how you hurt your wrist?” he asks, thoroughly displeased as he reaches for it with gentle fingers. It’s more swollen than before, irritated from you ignoring your body’s warnings, warm to the touch. 

“It wasn’t him,” you mumble. “Just me. I tripped and fell.”

He purses his lips but nods for you to continue, which you do, telling him about everything that happened today. 

“It just sucks,” you whisper. “I mean, what I’m doing to Steph, first of all, by feeling like that and then with the stuff going on with Tim. I know I shouldn’t have avoided him earlier because of my own feelings and maybe this is what I deserve for it but…”

He shakes his head, seemingly bothered by all of this. Really bothered. You expected some, along with the concern, but all of that seems tripled for a reason you do not know.

He says your name, solemn. “You don’t deserve any of that. Sure, it was stupid but… you still don’t deserve that.”

“I can’t change it,” you sigh, setting your cup down. Your fingers are numb from the cold of it. “I just… I dunno. Had to get it out, I guess, so thanks. Why did you really come here, though?”

He sips his Slurpee. “I really came here for you. I just had this feeling… I don’t know. But it paid off, didn’t it?”

“True,” you admit.

“You want me to talk some sense into this kid?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I don’t know,” he muses, his thoughtful tone bellying the tension that seems to permanently reside in his body now; he’s really annoyed by it. You’re touched, if not a bit confused at the depth of his feelings. “I think I should. Might be good.”

“It’s not totally Tim’s fault—”

“His reaction is his own entirely. You shouldn’t have done what you did but anyone with any amount of common sense would talk to you about it instead of turning around and avoiding you, too. It’s dumb. Don’t let him off the hook.”

“Don’t let me off the hook.”

“I’m not. But from where I’m standing, his offenses greatly outweigh yours, especially with what seemed to happen today and… everything else.”

“Flash…”

“I’m just saying. I am, admittedly, a bit biased but… still. I’m not wrong, am I?”

You sigh. “I guess not.”

“Exactly. And for that stuff with your other friend… she hasn’t said anything about it, has she? I mean, I told you what it’s like for me and Pipes. We don’t feel like that for each other anymore. If I had some friend who turned out to like him, I wouldn’t care. So, what makes you think Stephanie does?”

You throw up your hands. “Most people would! Flash, not everyone takes that approach to their exes.”

“True,” he concedes. “But they’re clearly still friends and just friends.”

“But that doesn’t mean she’s okay with that. That doesn’t mean it’s okay. I shouldn’t… it never should have happened.”

Flash sighs, watching you for a minute. “This is a mess, isn’t it?”

You laugh humorlessly. “You’re just now getting that?”

“I knew before but this is… a mess of epic proportions. Seriously…” he mutters the last part, shaking his head slightly. 

Before you can respond, the door opens. You can’t see it, the aisle hiding it, but Flash can; since he remains calm, you assume it isn’t anyone bad.

Then you hear your name, from a very familiar voice and—

“Steph?”

She appears around the aisle, her jean shorts and lilac purple t-shirt wrinkled and in a state of disarray, her hair equally as messy, frizzed from the humidity outside; a light sheen of sweat shines on her face. It’s like she rushed all the way over here. 

You hop down from the counter, concerned. “Steph, what are you doing here? Is everything okay? What happened?”

She lifts a hand, cobalt blue eyes on Flash, saying, distractedly, “No, it’s… it’s alright, nothing’s wrong, I just… had to talk to you… Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” Flash says breezily, hoping from the counter. “You can talk to her. I was just visiting.”

“Wait—” you don’t want him to leave quite yet but you don’t know how to say that.

“I’ll hang around,” he assures you, tossing your empty Slurpee cups in your next blink; the only indication he did anything is the way they disappear and the breeze that hits you and Steph.

“Batman—”

“Don’t care. If anything, I might like to talk to him.”

“Flash,” you say, nervous, not willing to reveal what happened to Steph but also trying to tell him to very much not do that.

“I’m still thinking about it,” he says, lifting a shoulder. “But I’ll be around. I’ll come back in a few.”

He lifts a hand, then he is gone, the breeze following him much stronger this time.

“I guess you two really are friends,” Steph says when it calms, sending you a small smile, making you relax.

“Yeah…” Though friends didn’t quite cut it for you. Silly, probably, considering you don’t even know who he is under the cowl, but you can’t deny it to yourself. It’s hard to quantify exactly what he means to you—a friend, a big brother, some kind of weird uncle. If anything, it feels like an odd amalgamation of all those things. You wonder if that’s how he feels, too. You won’t ask. You can only handle so much disappointment in one night.

“I’m sorry to come by so suddenly,” she says next, her words oddly formal in a way that puts you on edge. “But I just had to talk to you.”

“About…?”

“About Tim.”

You go stiff. You try your best to school your expression, to not give anything away. After all, concerning him, it could be anything. What happened today, maybe. What’s been happening. 

Or your feelings.

You really hope it’s not that. 

You’ve only just started to realize you might be losing Tim. You can’t lose her. 

You can’t.

“What about him?”

She says your name. Everything inside you tightens. 

“I know. I know how you feel about him—”

Your throat aches when you swallow. Everything seems to come bursting out of you in the next second. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Steph, I didn’t mean—I didn’t want—I wouldn’t do anything—” you take a step back, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest.

Her eyes widen and she steps forward, quickly closing the space between you, her hands coming to cradle your face.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not, I never should’ve—god, I’m so sorry, Steph—” your vision blurs with tears. 

She says your name again, keeping you in her grasp. 

“I’ve known for a long time,” she quickly says. “Okay? I knew, but it’s okay. I was never mad at you, never, it’s okay, I promise.”

“But—but—”

She shushes you gently. “It’s okay. Deep breaths, alright?”

A couple tears trace down your cheeks. She wipes them away, a small smile forming on her lips—for you, entirely for you, the warmth there reflected in her eyes. 

“Do you want to know a secret?” she asks, rubbing her thumb over your cheek. “It’s really easy to fall in love with Tim Drake. And this isn’t my roundabout way of telling you I have feelings for him. Those are long gone. I love him and he’ll always be my first love but that time has passed—for the both of us. But for you guys?”

“Stephie…”

“I don’t care that you have feelings for him. I really truly don’t. I just want you to be happy. I want you both to be happy. I think you two can do that for each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I think… you’re good for him. He’s good for you. That’s all there is to it, okay? If you really want my blessing, you have it, but… it doesn’t matter to me that you like him. And I’ve known for a while but I just… I assumed you knew I was okay with it. Like it was the thing that was there but we never talked about. Stupid, I know. But… I just need you to know that. Alright?”

She hugs you. You bury your face in her shoulder, hugging her back just as tightly, unable to stop your tears from flowing. 

“I’m not just saying this to try and be the bigger person, either,” she murmurs. “Go for it. It’s been long enough.”

“I don’t know…”

“Why?”

“I mean, he doesn’t… and today…”

Steph pulls away, frowning now. “He likes you, too.”

“No—”

“He does. I know.”

“Then why has he…” You can’t keep going, biting your lip.

“‘Cause he’s an idiot,” she mutters. “In more ways than one. But… I’m going to fix it, okay?”

“No, no, don’t—”

“It’s okay. There’s… there’s other stuff going on right now and we need to take care of that first, then you can talk about your feelings. But I’m going to fix it, okay? I’m going to try.”

“You don’t have to, this is our mess, my mess, I was the one who started avoiding him in May after finally realizing my feelings and then he…” you trail off, sniffling. 

“There’s something else,” she says cryptically. “That’s… just take my word for it. But I’m going to fix it. He’s been an idiot long enough and I’m not going to keep tolerating it, not if he’s going to keep hurting you.”

You shake your head, confused. Is she talking about today? Did he tell her? You have no idea…

“He only did it because I did.”

“No, no, it’s… it’s complicated, okay?”

You snort despite yourself. “You think?”

She smiles finally. “I know. It’s… a lot. But don’t worry. I’m going to get him to see the light. Not literally, though I wouldn’t mind roughing him up a bit just for how idiotically he’s been acting but… another time.”

You’re still confused. Terribly, terribly confused. But Steph is so impassioned, so sure, you let it go.

“Let me help,” you say. “I should be the one doing this but—but let me help. I need to. It’s my mess, too.” 

“It’s all of us,” she sighs. “And right now, I’m in a unique position. So… let me, okay? Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you more later, but hopefully, I can get something together soon. Just sit tight, alright?”

“You do too much for me,” you whisper.

“I’m doing what I should be doing,” she says, looking… guilty almost before the look is gone. “This has gone on long enough.”

She leans forward to kiss your forehead. “But it’s gonna be okay. We’ll make it better.”

You just nod, going along with it for now. 

You scrape yourself together after a few minutes, wiping your tears away and blowing your nose. Steph hangs around long enough for Flash to return, at which point she bids you a regretful goodbye, telling you she’ll talk to you tomorrow. You worry about her getting home but she brought her car, or so she tells you, and Flash generously sees her out.

After a couple minutes, he returns. 

“So?” he asks expectantly.

“You were right,” you mutter. “She’s fine with it. I’m not entirely sure why she had to rush out to tell me or what she’s planning to fix but… I don’t think I can stop her.”

“No, I don’t think so, either,” he agrees lightly. “I don’t think you should, either. It’s probably important.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “I still don’t think she should be doing it but…”

“There might be more pieces in play than you think.”

You send him a look. “I got enough cryptic talk from her. I don’t want any more from you.”

He holds up his hands, smiling. “No more cryptic talk. Got it. I do, however, come bearing gifts.”

“Where on earth—?”

“Well, I already had them when I came here. I wanted to check on you and give you this stuff, but we got interrupted,” he says. “Give me a second.”

You give him a second. 

He leaves and comes back in that time. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Check it out,” he says, holding out a box.

You take it from him. It’s a small thing, easily held in your hand. You pull off the top. 

And promptly blink as the shiny display of a phone greets you.

“Flash, what—”

He can’t wait for you to finish asking your question, apparently too eager to tell you.

“It’s a phone, for you. But it’s programmed with my contact info, that way you can talk to me, and you can move all the stuff on your old phone over, too. It really is just a regular phone. Well, it does have League-level encryptions on it, but you know.”

“Flash… this is too much.”

“Not really,” he says. “I couldn’t give you that info without making sure your phone was secure and it would’ve been a lot more work to get yours secured, too. Besides, let’s be real, your phone has seen much better days. I think it deserves to finally be able to rest.”

“Jerk,” you laugh.

He shrugs. “Not wrong, though. Anyway, it’s not just for emergencies. You can talk to me. Text me. You know.”

“Flash,” you say, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, pressing a hand to your face. 

He looks like he wants to say something else but stops himself last minute and just gives you a small smile. 

“Come on. Let’s set it up.”

You agree, not wanting to continue to refuse since it would be rude and… you do want to have a way to talk to him. Not just for emergencies but other stuff, too. This stuff.

So much is still up in the air. 

But you can focus on the here and now, with Flash here to ease your burdens.

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[smittywing]

When I read the last line of Cannon Fodder, I can’t help but imagine that Jason’s eyes get all big and watery and he says “R-really”

I can’t help but imagine him like completely melting

Thank you, friend!

I can neither confirm nor deny, but Damian was caught by Dick making retching gestures and complaining, "Why is Todd's face doing that thing? Surely cohabitating with Drake, while annoying, is no reason for tears."

Also, a little smidge:

"So, um," Jason said once the cake and balloons had been tucked away and the gifts stacked in the back of the Redbird. "Did you mean it? About the boat?"

"What? Yeah," Tim said, closing the trunk. He reached for Jason and clasped his hands where Jason's neck met his shoulders. "I mean, only if you want to. But do I want a home with you? Hell, yeah."

"Yeah," Jason said, catching Tim's wrists in his hands. "Yeah. I want that, too."

"Well," Tim said. "Let's go home."

[curious-trickster]

Is there any Tim Drake fanfiction which focuses on him as a biker?

As far as I know Tim had this really nice bike which he called Redbird and that he worked on quiet some time?

I just saw a video of a biker and my head went screaming 'TIM!' and I just-

[isfjmel-phleg]

So the context for the pages below is that Dick has called in Tim to help him with a case that requires tech expertise, and of course Tim agrees to help. But it's evident from his expression that he's not especially enthusiastic. He looks tired. A bit downcast.

At this time, there was a plotline in Tim's solo series in which the Drakes lost a lot of money and had to make some pretty significant lifestyle changes. Tim had to leave his boarding school and sell his beloved Redbird, and his family moved out of their fancy house in the suburbs to a more modest apartment in the city. The Drakes aren't destitute; they've just gone from upper-class to upper-middle-class. But it's a big change by their standards, and Tim, although he puts on an optimistic and compliant front for his dad's sake, initially panics about how the downgrade might impact his very expensive job as Robin.

Dick seems to sense that something is bothering Tim, so he puts a hand gently on his shoulder and asks--not how Tim is doing, he'd never get a straightforward answer for that, but rather "how's life in the big city treating you?"

Note that Tim does not answer that question. He makes a vague statement about how Gotham is and then changes the subject to how his dad is doing. And it's true; Jack Drake is not handling the new circumstances well. But that has nothing to do with how Tim's doing, at least not directly.

What Tim seems to be trying to say here without directly saying it is that he's worried about his dad and doesn't know how to help him. Being emotional support for depressed father-figures is normally Tim's thing, it's why he's Robin in the first place, but it's different with his dad, who isn't easy to connect with even at the best of times.

Dick offers him some fairly generic reassurance that might also be meant for Tim himself. But what really gets me here is Tim's little "Yeah..."

He wants to talk more. He wants to tell Dick all about how he's doing, what he's struggling with. But that's wading in too deep, getting too vulnerable for someone who's there to offer support, not be supported himself. So he quickly changes the subject back to the case, Dick has to move on to the next task at hand, and Tim is left alone with his feelings.

(Nightwing 1996 #68)

Just a short interaction, but it says so much about Tim's reluctance to open up about anything too personal, even with someone whom he's particularly close to, who genuinely cares about his well-being and wants to know how he's doing.