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“Bruce, I…” Tim started, twisting his fingers around and around each other standing in the doorway to Bruce’s office. “You’re not going to like this.” Tim glanced back at the door, seeming to sway backwards away from whatever confrontation was going to occur in this room.
Bruce pushed back from his desk, pulling the reading glasses off his face and closing the computer. He waited, entirely still. Slowly the creases in his forehead increased, the worry aging his features and showing age old lines of pain and paranoia. There was a line for each of his children, each was unique as each child brought unique pains, worries, and happiness with them. Tim knew his own wrinkle well, the sad turn at the edges of Bruce’s eyes. At first Tim thought it was Bruce’s disappointment of Tim, but it was Bruce’s disappointment and despair at everything around Tim that had ever hurt him. It took years to discover that though.
“I wanted to tell you something.” Tim took a step forward, away from the door. He tensed his hands then released them back down at his side. “About when you were away. Lost in the timestream.”
“Okay.” Bruce nodded at Tim, encouraging him to continue. Time continued to pass. Tim opened his mouth a few times then closed it.
“It’s just… well, you know, I ended up working with the League. And I’m sorry and that whole time was really complicated and I don’t really know how to explain it, but I didn’t want to work with them, it’s just I didn’t really have any choice.” Tim took a big breath, “But I ended up there and Ra’s was always talking to me through my comm and he was the only one that believed that I was onto something. Everybody else just thought I was crazy.”
Tim looked at the floor. Bruce almost wanted to say something, but it wasn’t time yet and Tim started talking again too quickly for that.
“And he was the only one who believed me. And Ra’s called me detective and he thought I was smart and I managed to outsmart him too, multiple times!” Tim smiled, proud of himself, before his face fell. He coughed and started talking again: “And well he was always talking to me and he was the only one who believed me and he said he understood and I really don’t know how to say this, Bruce, and I really don’t want to but I can’t keep it a secret anymore, but I slept with him, Bruce.”
There is a specific feeling in a vacuum when you suddenly feel disconnected from everything around you. Time seems to slow, the sounds dull and disappear, all the sensations of your body, the feeling of the chair you’re sitting in, the air filling your chest, they all float away in a breeze. The only thing you notice is the one singular moment in which everything changed and in which nothing has changed at all. The moment is brief and it’s your last glimpse at normalcy, and it ends far too soon.
Bruce made a noise like he was punched. He didn’t even notice falling back into his chair and how it rolled back from the desk. Tim did though, and he flinched, his shoulders hunching in towards his chest, posture collapsing.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t want to, but at the time… I don’t know… at the time it just seemed like a good idea and I wanted to, I needed to do it. But afterwards… I can’t sleep without hearing his voice, Bruce. It’s like I have my comm in and it’s just a private channel right to Ra’s al Ghul and I can’t shut it off. And I feel him all over me all the time and I hate it. I hate it all.” Tim was shaking his head, the world didn’t seem real to him anymore the way it was twisting and twirling around in his vision. A mix of the disorientation from his shaking to the water distortion of tears he didn’t even notice. “And I can’t make it stop.” Tim’s voice broke. “He won’t shut up. And I don’t want to listen to him anymore, Bruce, I don’t. I really don’t.”
Bruce had a hand around his mouth, his own chest hiccuping with barely suppressed sobs. There is a certain kind of trauma that mothers can expect to be inflicted upon their daughters. But a father and a son hardly ever see this kind of trauma coming. Bruce has seen everything on the street, every evil deed that a person can do Bruce has had to confront. But inflicted upon his own son? There’s no training in the world that could mitigate the terrors of a father.
“Bruce…” Tim wrapped his arms around his middle, “Dad, just, can you help me, please? Make it stop.” Tim pulled his eyes up off the floor, staring straight at Bruce and maintaining the eye contact that was sometimes so difficult between the two of them.
“I…” Bruce struggled for a moment, there wasn’t anything he could say. Then he was across the room in seconds, pulling Tim into a tearful hug. “Oh my god, Tim. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” He continuously muttered those words into Tim’s overgrown hair as the boy cried into his father’s shoulder. There were words that came to mind, rape, grooming, manipulation, but Bruce didn’t say any of them. None of them were going to be helpful here. It had all already happened.
“Dad–” Tim’s voice broke and his hands dug into the back of Bruce’s shirt then let go, grabbing Bruce closer again almost frantically. Bruce just held on steadily.
“I–” want to fix everything . Bruce didn’t say it. It was true, he wanted to fix everything, change it all, make all the pain go away. But that’s never how pain works, anyway. It never goes away and you can’t fix everything no matter how much you try. “I want to help… will you let me help?” Bruce asked, petting over the hair at the back of Tim’s neck. His third son. Who had struggled so much. Tim nodded into Bruce’s shoulder, gasping in air as his tears convulsed through his throat. “What do you need?”
Tim shook his head. No. It was too early for these questions. Tim didn’t know. He hadn’t thought through every single possible outcome. He didn’t even know what outcomes he wanted or were even possible to achieve. He didn’t have any answers. He just wanted to exist here, where he was held by his father and there were no secrets and he had his father’s promise. Bruce promised to help. Tim wasn’t alone anymore, Bruce was going to be there. And he wouldn’t leave. Tim’s hands closed tightly. He didn’t look up at Bruce, his head entirely buried in the man’s chest and shoulder.
“Okay. That’s okay.” Bruce said, continuing to brush through Tim’s hair, soothing, and letting him cry. Bruce cleared his throat. “I’m not sure I know what to do either.” He whispered. Tim didn’t comment on that. He did let Bruce continue talking though. “I’m not going anywhere, Tim.” He reassured Tim. Then he said it again. Tim sobbed harder. Bruce kept going. Repeating over and over again that he was not going to abandon his son to the terrors of the world, he was not going to let his son shoulder this all alone. Bruce was going to be there for him and he would continue to help Tim even if it killed him. Bruce sacrificed family for the mission too many times to know that it was no longer worth it. His family was his mission and sometimes it had to take precedence.
“Don’t leave.” There was hardly any air behind the words.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving ever again.” Bruce continued with his new mantra. A set of affirmations that weren’t meant for himself. Bruce just held on as Tim sobbed. He wasn’t going to be the first to pull away. If Tim needed this, then Bruce was going to be there for him.
Ages past, the sun dipped lower in the clouds and the shadows through the window lengthened across the floor of the study. Tim’s grip didn’t loosen. Bruce had moved them over to the couch, his knees were getting too old to be standing for so long. He wasn’t even sure if Tim was aware of the change in place. But eventually, just as the sky was turning from blue to deep orange, Tim pushed away.
“Can–” Tim started, his voice was rough and got caught in his throat. Tim took a breath, swallowed and tried again. “Can we do an x-ray?” Bruce tilted his head, thrown off for a second. “I… was out for a while when I was with the League, and I keep being convinced that they must’ve planted something in me that made it so I heard Ra’s all the time. Some kind of comm link. And I just need to know if it’s true or not.” Tim’s eyes were still wet, but his entire face was red after hours of tears.
“Tim…” Bruce started. He knew the likelihood of something like that occurring and none of them being aware. Tim probably wouldn’t have been able to get through airport security with something like that. The likelihood was so low, but Bruce was familiar with the paranoia. The feeling that told you that no matter what the odds, their lives were just crazy enough that anything was possible. Every single one of your fears could be true. But Bruce wasn’t sure what Tim was more afraid of. That the League put some kind of implant in him that none of them caught after so many months. Or that Ra’s’ voice that he heard in his head was only in his head. Tim likely wasn’t paranoid of finding out that an implant was there, but scared that it wasn’t. The kid had free access to any kind of scanning device he wanted. Tim could’ve done a full body scan ages ago, but evidently he didn’t. He didn’t want to know what the truth was.
“Of course, we can.” Bruce finally answered. He got up from the couch, knees aching just from sitting still. “Do you want to go now?” He held out a hand.
Tim grabbed it fast, bolting up from the couch. “Yes!” His eyes were frantic. Bruce paused. There was a balance between providing his children with what they wanted and preventing them from going too far, and Bruce had never quite figured out how best to manage it. He thought he understood Tim, though, and he would want to know the truth and Tim deserved it as well. Faced with all the facts they could both confront the reality of the situation.
So Bruce nodded and they turned down to the cave. Tim pulled Bruce’s arm to stop him from going towards where Alfred and Damian likely would be, and Bruce let himself be led. Tim didn’t want others to see him right now. They took a different path down to the cave to avoid them.
Bruce got the machine up and running, Tim was all too eager to get inside. Bruce suspected that if either he or Tim had waited to do the scan, it would never have happened. Tim would’ve backed out. It was one moment of courage that got the two of them all the way down here in the cave. It wouldn’t have repeated itself.
“Just stay still okay?” Bruce didn’t need to give Tim any more instructions, they both had plenty of experience with the machine. But the space felt too empty without Bruce providing some kind of guidance.
Tim nodded. The only sound was the hum of the machine and the normal sounds of a cave deep underground. Bruce pressed the start button. He could hear some bats off in the distance. The hum of too many electrical systems running on top of each other through the cave. And the steady drip of water off the constantly growing stalactites. He’d grown too used to the chatter in the cave. Either people getting ready for patrol, sparring, arguing about cases, or simply existing and making sounds throughout the dark area. Bruce and Tim were the quiet ones. Neither of them really knew the difference between walking normally and walking on eggshells. They breathed quietly too. If it was Dick sitting in the machine over there, the cave would’ve seemed to be infinitely louder.
The machine shut itself off once it had finished. Tim sat up. He didn’t move towards Bruce or the computer where the scans were slowly loading. Bruce watched him carefully, saw how Tim’s hands were quietly fidgeting at the edges of the x-ray bed.
“What’s he saying?” Bruce shook himself. It wasn’t a good idea. He shouldn’t have asked. It was only giving into the delusions that Tim was having. It couldn’t do any good.
“He’s asking me if I’m sure I want to see those scans. He wouldn’t shut up about it while I was in there.” Tim gestured towards the machine with his head then returned to staring at the floor. Bruce could see that his eyes were unfocused. He wasn’t really looking at anything right now, too caught up in his own head.
“He’s taunting you.” Bruce said. Tim didn’t respond. Bruce looked down at the scans. He scrolled through them, looking at all the layers. There was nothing there. Just a brain and a skull. No sign of any kind of technology at all.
“Should we call in Zatanna?” Tim hadn’t moved from the x-ray bed. Bruce wasn’t sure he’d even seen Tim look so small. He looked like he wanted to disappear. Instead, he was trying to find any explanation for the voice in his head that didn’t involve it being a delusion.
“Tim–”
“Am I schizophrenic now? Is that what this is?” Tim hadn’t even looked at the scans. He didn’t need to. They both already knew exactly what was going on. Hiding from it wasn’t going to do them any good.
“I– fuck, I don’t know. We need a psychiatrist.” Bruce wasn’t trained in this kind of trauma. Delusions like this often occurred on the opposite side of his mission. How was he supposed to handle it when it was his own son? Tim flinched at the suggestion. He finally hopped off the x-ray bed and started backing away from the machine, pushing himself back into a corner. Bruce recognized the instinct for what it was.
“No. I don’t want a psychiatrist.” Tim shook his head vigorously. He was shoo-ing more than just the idea out of his brain. Bruce had seen it before. Tim was smart enough to be able to hide the fact that he was hearing more than one other voice in the room.
“Tim.” Bruce had his hands up, making his way towards Tim. He softened his voice and posture. He did this almost every night but it always felt different out of costume and approaching his son. “Listen to me, not everyone is Jonathan Crane. But we need to talk to someone.”
Tim just shook his head again, but not stopping, instead just shaking it back and forth with no end in sight. His mouth was making the shapes of words, No , but nothing else came out.
“Tim. Listen to me.” Bruce tried to get closer, Tim backed up into the cave wall. Bruce heard noises coming from the cave entrance. It was someone, Damian, Dick, maybe Steph or Jason coming in for patrol. “Tim, I need you to focus.” Bruce pushed everything else from his mind. It didn’t matter that others were coming in, he just needed to calm Tim down. He didn’t want to find out what kind of breakdown Tim was going to have with Ra’s al Ghul’s voice pumping instructions into his head. “Tim, son.”
“I’m not crazy Bruce.” Tim stopped shaking, making direct eye contact with Bruce for the first time since earlier in the evening. Bruce froze. Tim’s eyes were wide.
“I know, Tim, you’re not.” He stepped closer, hands out. He wanted to reach for Tim, comfort him, but he had no idea if that would just set him off more.
“Stop it.” Tim looked down at Bruce’s hands and his feet coming closer to him, shying away from it all, “I said stop it!” He yelled. The sounds coming from the rest of the cave cut out suddenly, steps started coming towards them.
“Okay.” Bruce backed up a step, more than willing to give Tim his space.
“NO! I said to STOP!” Tim screamed, his entire body moved with the effort of forcing his voice to be so loud. His arms were wrapped around his stomach as if he was squeezing the air out himself. Tim started shaking his head again, not pausing at all. Bruce heard a whisper behind him, there had to be at least two onlookers at this point. They weren’t going to be helpful.
“Stop what, Tim?” Bruce didn’t dare move if whatever he was doing set Tim off again.
“The voice, the hands…” Tim waved his hands in the air, gesturing towards the whole of Bruce before going back to wrapping around himself, “And STOP LOOKING AT ME!” He screamed again, directing his anger to whoever was behind Bruce. “GO AWAY!” He yelled. Tim fell to the ground, curling up more, but yelling at the top of his lungs.
Bruce tossed a glance back seeing Dick and Jason, both of them with wide eyes, frozen in place. He waved his hand at them, gesturing for them to leave or at least step back. They started to move, but neither of them could take their eyes off of Tim. Bruce wasn’t sure what they were seeing in him at that moment. Bruce witnessed his fair share of these breakdowns from both of them in the past, but he wasn’t sure Dick or Jason would recognize it for what it was on the opposite side.
“Where are you going? Stop LEAVING ME!” Tim screamed again. His voice sounded so broken at the beginning. Bruce was surprised he had any tears left. Jason and Dick stopped moving back, looking entirely conflicted. Bruce braved getting closer again.
“Tim, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” When Tim didn’t scream again, Bruce took another step closer. The boy was watching him closely, he looked like he was measuring each step that Bruce took. “Let’s just take the night off, get some sleep, then we can figure all this out in the morning.”
Tim’s eyes darted over Bruce’s face. “You think I’m crazy. You think I can’t handle myself. That I’m dangerous.” He spat out the words.
“No, Tim, I don’t think that–”
“LIAR!” Tim screamed and Bruce flinched. Then Tim was sobbing and coughing, completely bent over himself on the ground. He was gasping for air in between the sobs and coughs.
“Tim-” Bruce tried to intervene, to tell him to breathe and stop choking on the air coming into his system.
It was mostly stomach acid that came out of Tim once he vomited and that concerned Bruce even more. Tim held a hand up to his head, fell over backwards so he was half laying half sitting on the ground. His face had been red before, but now it was deathly pale. Tim pushed with his feet, trying to move back towards the cave wall.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jason muttered out behind Bruce. He heard footsteps moving away, one of them must’ve left for some reason. Tim was too out of it to notice.
“Hey, Tim, how’re you feeling?” Bruce walked closer again. Tim wasn’t moving or yelling and his eyes were barely open. Bruce just hoped that the fighting was over for now.
“My head hurts, dad. I just wanna sleep.” Tim’s hand slid down his face to cover his eyes, they were probably really sensitive after all the crying. Bruce crouched down next to Tim, reaching over just to rub his hand over Tim’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure if the boy would want any comfort, and this seemed like a safer bet than a hug.
“We can get you some aspirin for that.” Bruce looked up as Dick came forward, a blanket in hand and a cup of water. Bruce mouthed thank you and Dick backed up again, pulling Jason away from the scene too. They didn’t go far, still casting glances back with eyes full of concern. Bruce took the blanket and loosely draped it over Tim. Tim muttered something incomprehensible then pulled the blanket more closely over him and tucked it over his head. “I have some water here, you should drink.” Bruce kept up a steady rhythm rubbing Tim’s shoulder.
Tim shook his head, burying further into the blanket to hide.
“Tim.” Bruce waited.
He stuck a hand out of his blanket cocoon and Bruce passed him the water. The blanket shifted as Tim took a drink, but it stayed over top of his head.
“You need to eat something, then we can get some aspirin and you can go to bed.”
“I don’t wanna eat.” Tim whined. Bruce looked at the small puddle of vomit on the floor.
“You’ll feel better after you do.”
Tim flipped the blanket down so that his head was visible. “Crackers?” He sounded hopeful.
“I don’t think any other food is a good idea right now.” Bruce said. Tim looked down at his own vomit, seeming to be slightly surprised. Then he deflated somewhat.
“Yeah, that’s probably true.”
Bruce stood up and held out a hand to Tim. Tim passed him the empty water glass. Bruce sighed, moved the glass to his other hand and held out the hand to Tim again. He waited for a minute as Tim wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like a robe, then Tim grabbed his hand. He pulled his son to his feet and wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulder.
Neither Jason or Dick stopped them as they left the cave, but both of them were watching with a mix of sympathy, horror, and curiosity. Dick had seen some of these kinds of episodes from Jason, but Bruce was near certain that Jason hadn’t witnessed these kinds of things outside of the job.
They made a pit stop in the kitchen, thankfully vacant, and Bruce grabbed the entire box of Ritz crackers. Once they made it to Tim’s room the boy just climbed up on his bed with no complaint. Bruce passed him a half empty roll of crackers and Tim started to eat his way through the pack. Bruce left him for a moment, rooting around in Tim’s bathroom to grab the bottle of aspirin and get some more water. When he made it back to the bed, Tim had cocooned himself in his covers again and was two crackers away from finishing the pack.
“Taste good?” Bruce pointed towards the crackers as he sat down on the bed next to Tim.
“I like the salt.” Tim answered and Bruce made a note to make sure that Tim was getting enough electrolytes.
“Here.” He handed Tim the glass of water and the pills once he’d finished off the crackers. Tim traded him the empty plastic sleeve. Bruce threw it away without complaint. He took the glass from Tim once he was done with it too. Tim was too tired and worn out to complain about the bedside service. “Come and get me when you wake up, okay? I’m not going out tonight or tomorrow, I’m here for you.” Bruce promised.
“Okay. G’dnight Bruce.” Tim slurred, wrapping himself impossibly tight in the blankets.
“Goodnight, Tim.” Bruce turned off the lights on his way out of the room. Bruce shut the door quietly, took a step away, then leaned against the hallway wall and sighed. He wiped a hand down his face. What was he supposed to do now?
He let himself feel sorry for himself for a few minutes, then made his way to the batcave. He needed to do some research so he could at least know the best way to talk to his son without causing more episodes like the ones they had today. He wanted to make everything better, make the problems go away, but Bruce wasn’t even sure where to begin. Though he was certain that a little bit of retribution against Ra’s al Ghul would go a long way in making Bruce feel better.
The cave was empty when he got down there, everyone was either out on patrol or sleeping at a regular time of night for once. Bruce hunkered down in front of the computer. There was a sticky note, written in Dick’s loopy sloppy hand, “We need to talk”. Bruce sighed again, then moved to trying to locate every single League of Assassins base in the entire world. He wanted to know exactly how far Ra’s was from his son at every moment of every day.
Barely five minutes passed before Bruce abandoned the mouse and keyboard and just buried his face into his hands. No one was around, so Bruce allowed himself a moment of vulnerability and cried. How could this have happened? How could Bruce have let this happen? That was the question wasn’t it. But Bruce wasn’t even around. How could Dick have let this happen? Or Jason, Steph, Alfred, or any of the vigilantes throughout the community that never believed Tim, how could any of them ignore something that was so obviously wrong? How could everyone make the same mistake and not trust the one person that has always deserved it?
There are no easy answers to any of those questions. And Bruce does not want to address the rising heat of anger that is boiling inside of him, the primary target being Ra’s, but Dick was a close secondary target. Bruce didn’t want to fight with Dick again, and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to talk about anything that Tim had told him, but Bruce desperately needed to yell and punish whoever it was that let everything go so wrong.
But it wasn’t easy to lay blame. If Bruce was mad about the sex, then that was Tim’s fault, but it was a mix of Ra’s and Dick that pushed Tim to that point. Ra’s had been manipulative and overly interested from the start, so more blame lies with him. But Bruce and Dick had taught Tim and they were the ones that broke him. There were too many factors in play and Bruce, for once, didn’t know if he could even trust the people closest to him to make the right decisions. There was going to be a reckoning for all of their past mistakes and it was approaching so fast that Bruce was completely blinded by the headlights.
The batmobile rolled into the cave. Bruce closed out of the tabs he’d been researching on. Another bike rolled in, and voices started to fill the cave. Bruce rolled around in the chair. His eyes felt heavy and he wondered if anyone would notice the difference. “How was patrol?” He needed to get his mind off of everything with Tim.
“Pretty quiet, nothing too big that we couldn’t handle.” Dick answered. Jason had entered behind him, Damian and Steph chatting as they messed with unpacking their gear. Dick leaned against the bat computer desk, dropping an arm to the table and tapping on the sticky note he left. It was subtle enough that everyone else wouldn’t have cared to notice, but Bruce could immediately tell that Dick was impatient to talk about it. He could feel Jason’s eyes on the two of them as well.
“Good.” Bruce raised his voice, “I think Alfred said something about cookies.” Both Damian and Steph perked up, then started dumping their gear as fast as possible. Dick laughed a bit, then stood up and walked over to start unloading his own gear. Jason was still taking his time with his bike, keeping an eye on everyone else in the cave. Steph and Damian were upstairs in a flash. They both shot a glance towards the three of them, but they seemed to let it go. Bruce sighed, he didn’t want to get interrogated by them next.
“So… Tim.” Dick started, Jason straightened up from his bike, not even hiding that he was paying attention. Bruce sighed. “What’s up with the x-ray and the breakdown?”
“Not my place to say.” Bruce spoke between clenched teeth. He desperately wanted someone else to talk to about all of this, but he would hold Tim’s secrets. And there was the part of him that was too unreasonably angry with his first son to even consider discussing anything with him.
“I saw the scans, Bruce, there’s nothing wrong with him. I don’t know why you wanted to force him to take those scans, and you have no reason to be benching him–”
“I didn’t force him.” Bruce stopped Dick mid-rant. He wasn’t here to be berated for something that was completely out of his control. At least Bruce didn’t want to examine any possible guilt that may lie with him for putting Tim in a position to allow Ra’s to get near him.
“Okay, then what was all the screaming about?” Dick tossed his hands in the air. Bruce supposed there really was no such thing as a secret in this family that they had built. But Bruce sidestepped the topic nonetheless.
“When I was gone…” He cleared his throat, Dick looked unimpressed. Jason hadn’t moved from his bike, silent as the grave for once. “When I was gone, what did you do to Tim?” The angry part of himself cheered, it wanted to fight and push and dig a rift between Bruce and Dick again saying that this time it was Dick’s fault, not Bruce’s.
“When you were dead, Bruce. Dead.” Dick answered, his eyes sharp. It was always easy to forget how quick Dick was to anger with how easygoing he was most of the time.
Bruce just glared back. He wasn’t repeating his question. And he wasn’t letting Dick get away with no answer. Finally, Dick started to look a little guilty, but it wasn’t directed towards Bruce at all.
“I gave Robin to Damian. He needed it. Tim wasn’t doing well and I thought it might help him, give him a push out of the nest. He was too devoted to you, always has been.” A roundabout explanation that just centered back onto exactly what this conversation had turned into: the constant push and pull between Bruce and his first son.
“You pushed him out.” Bruce growled, dark and dangerous, “No one believed him and you pushed him out.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Dick’s voice was getting louder, he never could fully contain his anger. “I had a handful of baby assassin, an entire fucked up city, and you were gone Bruce. Gone. There weren’t any good options, so what was I supposed to do?”
“Not that.” Bruce growled again and Dick’s face turned dark. He opened his mouth, almost arguing back, but then he closed it. His hands opened and closed a few times then Dick stormed off in silence. He slammed the door behind him. Bruce sighed and put his head in his hand. He really couldn’t do anything right today apparently.
“Tim’s still fucked up from back then, I guess?” Jason finally spoke, moving away from his bike, slowly getting closer to Bruce. Bruce just nodded and hummed in agreement. Though with his voice the hum probably sounded more like a grunt.
“I need to find a really good psychiatrist.” Bruce said. That detail didn’t give anything away, so he supposed that it was allowed.
“Ain’t got a good track record with those.”
Bruce ran through the history there: Crane, Harley. “Need someone we can trust too.”
“What about Dinah, I know she was talking to some of the Titans.” Jason’s eyebrows furrowed, a line of worry appearing on his face.
“She can’t handle this.” Bruce dropped the hand from his face, meeting Jason’s eyes honestly. Jason didn’t say anything, just seeming to process exactly what Bruce said.
“B, what–”
Jason was interrupted when the door to the cave slammed open. Tim came barreling down the stairs and Bruce half expected to be slammed into for a consoling hug, but Tim bypassed him completely, taking over the batcomputer. He was frantic, his breathing coming way too fast.
“Tim?” Jason asked, his face looked shocked. Bruce watched Tim’s searches, traffic cams, and security cameras all centered on some random street in Turkey. Bruce watched Tim’s face. The confusion at the uneventful street, then the relief, then the horror. Tim slumped onto the ground, arm propped up over the desk, hand on the mouse. Tim covered his face with his other hand.
“It’s empty. He’s not there.” His voice was broken. Bruce’s heart broke.
“What happened?” He asked, gently, leaning down in his chair to try and get more level with Tim. Bruce had a feeling that he already knew. Tim tossed a glance towards a shell-shocked Jason, then focused again on Bruce. Bruce started leaning back up, ready to ask Jason to leave, then Tim started talking.
“It was Ra’s. He was killing people.” Tim cleared his throat. “Draining them of their blood.” Bruce was frozen, Jason was too. Tim cast another glance towards Jason, his eyes still held the remnants of panic. “He was gonna bathe me in their blood… He wouldn’t shut up.” Tim was omitting something, Bruce could tell, but it wasn’t the time to push.
“This was a dream–” Bruce shook his head, “nightmare?” He asked.
Tim answered slowly. “It started that way. Then it turned into… something else.” Tim cast another glance towards Jason before looking at the floor. He pulled his arm off the desk and curled it around himself. “Then I woke up and he was still talking. So I had to check.” Tim gestured towards the computer where the street cams were still playing.
“Tim… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.” Bruce admitted. He was worried, beyond worried. Tim looked resigned in response to that, curling around himself a little more. Bruce rushed to console him, but Jason butted in.
“Okay, wait, the fuck is going on?” Jason looked between the two of them, Bruce turned to Tim, trying to encourage him to talk if he felt safe enough. Tim just looked more panicked, his eyes darting between Bruce and Jason.
“I can’t- Bruce you can tell him.” Tim nodded towards Jason, but refused to look towards him.
“Are you sure?” Bruce hesitated over his words. Tim just nodded.
“I want him to know.”
Bruce accepted that and turned to Jason. He pondered over how best to summarize the story that created the waterfall of events from the afternoon. How did he have to say it in order to protect Tim? How did he have to say it in order to protect Jason?
“Tim’s experiencing ptsd and auditory hallucinations of Ra’s al Ghul due to years of grooming and manipulation which culminated in a sexual relationship when Tim was forced out of Gotham.” Bruce didn’t have to protect either of them with his words. In fact, blunt and honest words may be the only way for them all to fully address the situation. But still, the blunt words were no kindness. They hurt both his sons and himself.
Jason sat down heavily on the floor. No other reaction presented itself.
“I can’t tell if he’s really there or not, Jay. I thought he put something in me and was talking to me this whole time–” Tim started rambling, tears pouring out of the corners of his eyes.
“It’s been a year, Tim.” Jason sounded broken, like he was cleaved in three: anger and guilt and fear.
“I know!” Tim wailed through his tears. The two of them were both curled around themselves, five feet apart on the cave floor, each individually falling completely apart. Devastation was heavy in the air, tinted with hopelessness and fear. “And it doesn’t stop. I can’t make it stop!” Tim cried, his head now pressed to his knees.
“Why– how could it happen?” Jason asked the empty air, then turned to look at Bruce. Bruce recognized the old anger and blame immediately. It was pure betrayal, Bruce had betrayed Tim. Then in another second the look was gone. “This is why– Dick?” He sounded uncertain, his eyes blowing wide, “Dick did this?” Jason stared at Bruce, not Tim, for confirmation.
“No!” Tim yelled, interrupting Bruce in shaking his head. “No it wasn’t him! It’s not his fault! I did it.” Tim was shockingly lucid and clear, emphasizing every word. He wasn’t going to let Jason blame Dick. Bruce wasn’t sure that Dick was as innocent as Tim wanted to believe. “ I went to him. Every. Time.”
“What.” The word sounded like it was punched out of Jason, his whole body suddenly taut like a rubber band ready to snap. Bruce felt his guilt deepen. It had happened more than once. Probably more than twice. How was he supposed to solve this?
“He didn’t force me, Jason.” Tim’s voice sounded cold, maybe even angry. “He barely even touched me, Jason. I did it all on my own and now I have to live with it.” Bruce frowned. Jason was shaking his head, disbelief heavy in his features.
“No, Tim. It’s not all your fault.” Bruce stepped in. Both of them turned to look at him, Tim looked almost ready to argue. “That’s how grooming works, Tim. It’s still coerced and pedophilic.” Tim panicked at that. Bruce could tell that Tim didn’t like any of those words. He probably wanted to avoid the implications of all three of them.
“No, I-” He started.
“No, B is right.” Jason jumped in, seeming to pull himself together again. “It’s not your fault. And it certainly isn’t your fault that you have to deal with this shit now.” Jason gestured towards Tim who was still curled up on the floor. “Ra’s is evil, and he did it on purpose. Blame him instead.”
Tim shook his head again. “No you don’t understand, Ra’s isn’t… that simple.” Stockholm , Bruce thought, or at least something similar. It sounded like Tim had been about to say that Ra’s wasn’t evil.
“Well no matter what it isn’t your fault.” Jason shrugged the statement aside, ignoring or not seeing the implications there. Bruce could tell that Tim didn’t fully accept Jason’s statement and Bruce knew that this was going to have to be a much longer conversation with a psychologist in the future. Simply saying that it wasn’t his fault wasn’t good enough, in fact, it was probably not even helpful to Tim’s mental state, and there were definitely better ways to heal. But, nonetheless, the phrase had become standard issue between untrained people.
Bruce jumped in before Tim could argue back and they dug themselves into a deeper hole, “Tim, you need to sleep.” Tim swiveled to look at him. “Tomorrow, you and I are taking a day off and we’re going to find you a psychiatrist, okay?”
Tim looked uncomfortable for a moment, then nodded and stood up on slightly shaky legs. “I want to vet them too.” Tim said, though the statement sounded more like a question.
“I wouldn’t imagine otherwise.” Bruce answered easily, “Want me to walk you up?” Tim twisted his hands.
“No… I guess I’m just going to go lay down.” He took an awkward step towards the stairs out of the cave.
“You’ll be alright, Tim. Take some melatonin or benadryl or something if you need help falling asleep. But it’ll do you good.” It wasn’t good for Tim to make a habit of using benadryl to sleep, but Bruce was more interested in getting Tim to actually rest.
“Okay, then. Goodnight.” Tim was still twisting his hands a bit as he took awkward steps towards leaving the cave. Bruce waved him up the stairs and Jason said goodnight from his spot still on the ground. Both of them watched and waiting as Tim went up the stairs, their silence breaking the moment they heard the door shut.
“What the fuck B.” Jason snarled and jumped up from the floor. Bruce sighed. “Ra’s?” Jason asked, then waved his hands around in a perfect expression of his confusion and anger.
“I know. Listen, Tim and I aren’t going to be patrolling for a while, Tim probably won’t for quite some time, okay? So you and Dick might need to trade off being Batman.” Bruce started.
“No, B, stop. I don’t care.” Jason angrily mimed shoving away the words that Bruce had spoken. “We need to talk about Tim.” Jason was a dog with a bone. Unwilling to give it up and willing to fight tooth and nail for it. That was what made Jason, Jason.
“Jason, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m going to get Tim some help, definitely going to beat up Ra’s al Ghul next time I see him and try to keep Tim as safe as possible.” Bruce had learned through his conversations with Jason over the past years that bland blunt honesty was the only way to talk with him. Jason never stood for Bruce hiding his uncertainties or lying, he was always too good at picking up just what Bruce was trying to hide.
“How.” Jason’s voice broke, some emotion creeping in, “How could this happen?” It turned back to anger.
“I– I don’t know.” Bruce spoke stiltedly, “I can’t figure out who to blame because we all have some blame.” That was the crux of it. Justice was always served to those who are guilty. Batman serves justice. But what was he supposed to do in a case like this where the guilt lay everywhere? Ra’s certainly held the bulk of it. Then Jason, Damian, and Steph contributed by their own faults. Dick abandoned Tim. The entire superhero community gave up on Tim when he was grieving. Bruce died. And then there was Tim, who blamed himself. And there was a small part of Bruce’s brain that spoke up every once in a while saying that it was Tim’s mistake, he initiated it, he fell for the manipulation, it was his fault. And that wasn’t true. You can’t hold people to those kinds of standards.
“Well, what am I supposed to do now, then?” Jason threw his hands in the air. Bruce knew that he was three seconds away from storming out in undirected anger.
“Try our best to help.” It was a simple answer and clearly not the concrete mission that Jason was craving at the moment.
“I’m going out.” He stalked over to his motorcycle, voice firm in his decision. He’d nudged up the kickstand before freezing. He huffed angrily, pushed the kickstand back down and kicked one of the tables on his way out of the batcave up towards the manor. Bruce wasn’t sure where he would find Jason later, the library or sitting outside of Tim’s bedroom door.
Bruce slowly shut down the batcomputer. Though the dawn was going to begin soon, the light would never enter the cave. Too many sleepless nights had turned him into the nocturnal animal of his namesake. He moved upstairs. The house was asleep, everyone since given up on the hours of the night in favor of welcoming in the morning.
Bruce truly had no answers for Tim, Jason, or anyone else, including himself. But he was the father figure and he was tasked with figuring it out. And clearly they all would make mistakes along the way, but there was truly no other option. However, Bruce’s mission was altering its course. It had begun with Dick, developed with Jason, cemented with Tim, strengthened with Cass, culminated in Damian, and fully revolutionized with Duke. He was not alone in his mission at all, which he should have known from the start with his own father behind him, but he was joined by all the people of Gotham, but most importantly a family that he had never had before.
He had started the movement but it was carried on the shoulders of many now. Bruce will be the first to blame himself for the involvement of Ra’s al Ghul, but there were too many choices made by such a diverse number of people to fully place blame anywhere. It was the butterfly effect, just one choice different and the whole world would be changed.
Bruce wished he could change the world, stop all the horrible things that happened to all of his children and proteges, but what of the joys that would be irrevocably erased without those sorrows to accompany them? There is nothing Bruce would change, he can regret his mistakes, but they are part of him and who he has grown to be. And he has grown to be a man that can help his son battle against the world and, all willing, he will succeed.