Chapter Text
- ACT TWO: A MYSTERY -
“Is this really necessary?”
Tim stares at the giant cork board covered in photos, post-it notes, and red yarn.
“I thought this was the best way to show you,” Damian says.
Tim cocks an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I,” Damian huffs. “C’mon. How many opportunities do you have to make something like this?”
“When you put your mind to it, I’m sure you can make these for any occasion.”
Damian sighs. “I watch a lot of Teen Wolf, okay?”
Tim holds up his hands in surrender.
He knows he shouldn’t be antagonizing Damian, especially when he’s the only one who has answers, but he can’t help it. He’s nervous. He’s unbearably nervous about what he’s about to learn and it’s easier to stall with snides and jokes than actually face it.
“Okay,” Damian says. “Here’s what I know.”
Damian points at the first picture.
“You, Timothy Drake, were taken by the League of Assassins when you were a kid.”
“Okay, I’m already not following,” Tim says. “The League of Assassins? That’s… that can’t be a thing.”
“Well it is,” Damian says. “And my grandfather is the leader of it and you were his apprentice.”
“But what is it?” Tim asks.
Damian points to a paper with a large box of text. “I have a… source. Someone who was trained by the League of Assassins adjacent. They’re the one who has been training me. The League, they’re… ancient. And they’ve been ruled by my grandpa for centuries. They’re… they’re top secret. Those who know of it are gotten rid of and those who are wanted by them are taken. They are highly trained, extremely intelligent, and they’re hidden absolutely everywhere.”
“Okay,” Tim says. “Okay, sure. Why not? So, somehow as a literal child, I discover and get recruited into this super secret Assassin league—”
“League of Assassins.”
“—and I become the leader’s apprentice. So what happens in between?”
“I don’t really know,” Damian admits. “It’s not like we really knew each other that well. The first time we talked when you were really you, you had a sword to my throat telling me that I was unworthy and that I would never understand what it meant to replace you.”
“You were going to replace me?”
Damian grimaces. “It’s complicated. We’ll come back to that.”
Tim nods. “Okay. So far, not really liking the sound of who I was.”
“Well, you weren’t all bad. After you found out that I’m not the blood heir but my grandfather’s vessel—”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“—you had a change in heart. You said a lot about how the League saved you and how you would always follow the Demon’s Head—”
“Who?”
“My grandfather. And that you discovered the League because you were a photographer and detective? And somehow found out about them? I don’t know. You didn’t go into a lot of details.”
“Okay,” Tim says. “My memories end pretty abruptly in my childhood. That must be before I discovered the League of Assassins.”
“Actually, I know exactly when you were getting scouted for recruitment,” Damian says.
“How?” Tim asks.
“Well, I can’t exactly be sure, but I’m pretty sure my mom met my dad when she was in Gotham stalking you.”
Tim blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah,” Damian says. “Around the same time you disappeared — actually disappeared, not reported to disappear — so did my mom. So.”
“Your dad slept with an assassin?” Tim blurts out.
“He didn’t know she was an assassin!”
“He still did,” Tim points out, wishing he could shut his mouth. “I’m sorry, continue with your story.”
“Right,” Damian says, turning back to the board. “Where was I?” His finger hovers over the red yarn. “Right! Yes. So, you said that you were supposed to take me to my grandfather unharmed and then you… you talked about not knowing your purpose and you said…” He trails off.
“What did I say?”
“You said you had to write your own story.” Damian swallows, eyes prickling with tears. “Apparently that meant sacrificing your life for mine and telling my grandfather that you would be his vessel instead of me.”
“What does that mean?” Tim asks. “Being his vessel?”
“He… he has this magic lake thing. Makes him not age. But… he’s been living for too long. He’s getting weaker and he needs a new body.”
“That’s,” Tim says with disbelief. “That’s not possible.”
“I don’t exactly know how it works!” Damian shouts. “All I know is the last time I saw you, you saved my life and I thought I’d never see you and the next time I saw you, your body would be a possessed husk!”
Damian is breathing heavily, tears streaming down his face. He wipes at his face with his sleeves, turning his face away. “I didn’t get to say thank you. Or… or goodbye. We didn’t know each other for long and there was no reason for you to do that for me and I just… why? Why did you do that?”
“I— I don’t know.”
“And all I’ve been thinking about for months is what happened to you. What he was doing in your body. What he did to you. Not just to get your body but what he did to you for years. When I saw the way he—”
A sob breaks his voice. “You just knelt at his feet. And he treated you like you were—” He shakes his head. “And not even an hour before you were this unmovable force. I was terrified of you.” He looks at Tim. “But you were terrified of him. You said it was loyalty but it wasn’t loyalty. He wasn’t your mentor like I had thought. He owned you. And it… it was wrong. To see you turn into this mindless soldier, walking out that door knowing that you were gonna…”
He laughs, the sound broken and hysterical. “I mean, God. You told him to take your body instead of mine. And then he pet you like you were some— I mean, God, what a fucking creep. And you had been his apprentice, his… his slave for years. No wonder you were so fucked up!”
He glances over at Tim. “Uh, no offense.”
Tim’s head feels like it’s going to explode. The pressure in his temples feels like a trash compactor pressing into his skull.
And for the first time since he woke up, he’s starting to realize it hurts because something doesn’t want him to know.
Something is trapping his memories from him.
Someone.
And he can’t live like that, locked out from his own past.
He hasn’t felt whole. The only time things felt right were when he was with Jason, and even then… there’s been something missing.
And now he knows.
Tim Drake? The Tim Drake that he is now, isn’t real.
Because the Tim Drake he is now could never be the man that Damian described.
Then who is he? Is this really the result of losing twelve years of memories? Just a seven year old trapped in an adult body?
But he doesn’t feel that way. He feels like he’s an adult. He feels like he’s grown up into the person he is.
But he also feels like there should be more.
He thinks back to how it felt when he took down that mugger. How the blood on his hands made him scared not because of the man’s attack or what Tim did but because everything finally felt right.
Is he real?
Is this person he woke up as even him or is he something that was made by the Demon’s Head?
Is he being controlled by him even free from his grasp?
Is he even free from him? Or is he playing into his every will without even knowing?
Tim needs to know. He needs to remember the missing years in his mind.
But does he want to know? Does he want the memories of the man who was broken until he was malleable to an iron fisted man who, as Damian made it seem, controlled him?
When he gets his memories back, will he go back to the League of Assassins? Or would he stay here in this happy, simple life with Jason, despite knowing everything that made him the man he was before?
Could he?
Damian runs his fingers through his hair. “So yeah. That’s why my first instinct when I saw you was to throw a knife at you. Because…”
“Because you thought I was your creepy body snatching grandpa,” Tim finishes.
“Yeah,” Damian says.
Tim swallows past the lump in his throat, looking up at Damian with determination in his eye. “So,” Tim says. “The question is,” he lets out a shaky breath. “Why am I still me?”