Chapter Text
Tim gave up the idea of being saved the day he became a hero. He was the one who had to do the saving now. Hell, he was trying to save Batman from killing himself. It was his responsibility to be stronger and faster and braver than his obstacles.
And if he wasn’t…. then it was his fault. No one else’s.
Competence became his best friend.
Information, his tool.
Skill, his master.
Perfection, his life.
But Tim always knew he was running on borrowed time because no one is perfect and not even he is an exception. No matter how much he tried.
And OH did he try.
When his parents give him disappointing looks for getting a B. Not intelligent enough.
When Bruce goes on patrol drunk and gets hit by a bullet. It is his fault for not being observant enough to notice the smell of liquor that was on the man. He was familiar with it too. He should have known.
When he sees his father's dead body in front of him. He has no one else to blame but himself. Too slow. Too dumb. Too little. Too late.
When he fails to save a civilian that was being held hostage. That is his fault.
When he allows Red Hood to get the jump on him in Titan’s Tower. His lack of ability.
When he almost gets killed by Damien cutting his line. His lack of preparation, he knew the kid was an assassin and hated him, he should have known better.
When Kon dies. He doesn't know how it's his fault but he knows it is.
When Dick gives away Robin to Damien. He just wasn’t credible enough.
Then Ras approaches him and tells him that he is skillful, intelligent and possibly everything he has ever wanted to hear his entire life in the creepiest way possible. He is obviously devastated because a villain is telling him things his pseudo family don't even say to him.
Maybe he needs to rethink the ‘being a hero’ decision.
And then he finally does something right. He has proof that Bruce is alive.
Then everything comes crashing down in....
3....
He bleeds out into the sand, corpses of his friends surrounding him. He doesn't really know what is moving his legs. But he knows it couldn’t possibly be him dragging Pru and himself miles away to safety. Because that would take skill.
I am fine. I am fine. I am fine. Tim repeats in his mind like a mantra.
2......
Tim explodes the bases of the League and his last good quality, that he never killed anyone, is gone with it. What makes it worse is that he can't even bring himself to regret it. He is a spleen down and feels like he is one spilled milk from a breakdown.
I am fine. I am fine
1.....
Tim finished everything. He fought Ras and was kicked out the window. He has no hope or delusion, call it what you will, of being saved. And he doesn't mind. The only thing he wanted to be saved by at that moment was death. He welcomed her cold bony arms. He thinks vaguely that it might feel a lot like his mother’s embrace, before he passes out.
I am fine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Tim opens his eyes in the Batcave medbay he is washed over with a wave of peace. Perhaps peace is the wrong word. A wave of …. blissful apathy.
Because Tim feels fine. And he doesn't care.
When Dick comes over, disheveled and teary eyed and regretful, to Tim. Tim can only placate him.
“I knew you would catch me, you're my brother.” he lies with a comforting smile.
He hugs Dick and reassures him that everything is fine. And tells him to get some rest.
Tim could lie very well and he has done a fair amount, but he didn’t like to lie because he always ended up feeling bad. At least until now.
He didn't feel the least bad. In fact, he didn't feel anything. It was wonderful. After feeling so terrible, so much grief, anger, sadness and hatred all the time; neverending and agonizing.
Feeling nothing is a sudden gift.