Day 1.
Blindfolded. Tied to a metal chair. Cold.
It took a full day to realize why he was here.
This wasn’t a ransom. Not a political assassination. Not even a threat.
This was just pain.
Some Joker wannabe, probably. Fine. Tim could wait. He shifted slightly, testing the restraints. No give. No weakness.
No need to risk his civilian identity over some Gotham psycho.
Someone would come.
---
Day 2.
Pain.
Holy shit, pain.
His kidnapper—some sadistic bastard—had hooked the chair up to a generator. Or maybe it was always electrified. Tim couldn’t tell.
Every 20-30 minutes, like clockwork, 5 minutes of agony.
The first time, he’d screamed.
The second time, he bit through his lip.
By the third, he forced himself out of his body, floating somewhere above it.
They wouldn’t get the satisfaction.
---
Day 3.
A prick in his arm. An IV.
They were keeping him alive.
His throat burned. His tongue was thick, velvety with thirst.
The shocks continued.
No sounds. No footsteps. No taunts.
Just silence.
And pain.
Where the hell were the Bats?
---
Day 4.
Was this a test?
Did Bruce think he could get out on his own?
Tim thought they were past that. He’d *proven* himself. Bruce had *adopted* him.
…Right?
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
---
Day 5.
Fuck this.
Tim wasn’t waiting anymore.
Fuck his civie identity.
He twisted, strained, fought the ropes with raw, desperate fury. His wrists burned, slick with blood.
For a second—just a second—he felt slack.
Then the ropes tightened on their own.
What the fuck?
---
Day 6.
The ropes didn’t just resist.
They learned.
Every time he found a weakness, they adjusted.
Every time he moved, they cinched tighter.
The shocks kept coming.
His muscles spasmed uncontrollably.
He couldn’t stop shaking.
---
Day 7.
He almost wished his kidnapper would show up.
At least then he could fight.
At least then he could hate someone.
But there was nothing.
Just the chair.
The shocks.
The silence.
---
Day 8.
What was the point of this?
Was there one?
Or was he just… entertainment?
---
Day 9.
…
---
Day 10.
…
---
Day 11.
…
---
Day 12.
Had they noticed he was gone?
WE could run without him for a month.
DI could last another month after that.
Would they even look for him before then?
Or was this how it ended? Forgotten in some basement, rotting in a fucking chair.
He missed his kids.
God he missed his kids.
---
Day 13.
…
---
Day 14.
He missed Danny.
He missed his kids.
---
Day 15.
……………
---
Day 16.
A voice.
Soft. Disappointed.
"I don’t see why he has such a fascination with you."
A hand gripped his chin, tilting his head up. He almost leaned into.
"You’re not even interesting."
---
Day 17.
The shocks stopped.
The ropes loosened.
Tim didn’t move.
What was the point?
This wasn't real.
---
Day 18.
They left the door open.
Tim didn’t stand.
He didn't think he could.
Was it a trick?
He wasn't just allowed to leave.
...Was he?
---
Day 19.
…
---
Day 20.
Tim couldn't move anyways...
---
Day 21.
…
---
Day 22.
The voice returned.
"Pathetic."
The door slammed shut.
The electricity surged back on.
Tim didn’t scream.
He wasn’t sure he remembered how.
---
Day 23
Just pain.
Just silence.
His kidnapper had left again.
Not that it mattered.
Tim wasn’t sure he could speak anymore.
Maybe his voice had been shocked out of him.
Maybe he just had nothing left to say.
---
Day 24
He wonders if he’s slowly cooking alive.
The heat is unbearable or maybe it’s not heat at all. Maybe his nerves are just dying, misfiring, turning his skin into a raw, oversensitive mess.
He can’t tell if the numbness is relief or just another kind of suffering.
---
Day 25
…
---
Day 26
Maybe his family moved on.
Maybe they never noticed he was gone.
Maybe they did notice and didn’t care.
Tim can’t tell if that thought makes him bitter or hollow.
He’s not sure he feels anything at all.
---
Day 27
…
---
Day 28
Happy.
He should be happy for them.
If they’re happy, that’s enough.
It has to be.
Even if he’s not there to see it.
Not his children's firsts not their graduations, their achievements..
Not Danny's smile or laugh...