A prayer to whoever’s listening
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Series name: Praying
Chapter title: A prayer to whoever’s listening
Warnings: Swearing, sad thoughts (nothing major)
Summary: After a breakdown Tim tries resurrecting his friends again. It works in an unsuspected way. Or, the fic where Tim becomes a dad.
A/n - I made myself sad. You’re welcome.
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Nothing had changed and Tim doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. Bruce was back but it wasn’t enough and Tim’s being selfish and he knows that but he doesn’t care.
Bruce is back and Tim still isn’t wanted. Bruce is back and everything should be better because someone Tim loves is back again, breathing again, alive again when nobody else is. (Steph, Bart, Kon, Jack, Dana, Janet-) Bruce is back and Tim should feel better, not great but better. He doesn’t.
There’s no apologies, no thank you’s for bringing Bruce back. Truth be told he didn’t want any of those things, all he wanted was to be acknowledged.
Acknowledged that he was still apart of the family, acknowledged that he wasn’t crazy, acknowledged that he was still needed and wanted. He didn’t get any of those things so he tried to stay useful, even if he’ll only ever be second best.
He tried and he tried but he only ever ended up second best and sometimes, not even that. He wasn’t good enough, Tim knew that but he wanted to know why. What was he doing wrong?
Did he need to be a better vigilante? More skilled and deadly? He could do that, he would do anything if they just told him why he wasn’t useful enough. He needed to know what he was doing wrong.
He wanted it to go back to the old days. Where he was still Robin and he was useful and needed. He wanted it to go back where Bruce gave him smiles, no matter how small. He wanted to back to the days where Dick would call him little brother and mean it. But that wasn’t going to happen, was it? Tim knew it wouldn’t.
Nothing significant happened today but for reasons that didn’t make any logical sense to Tim, he was crouched in a corner of his apartment. His hands were pulling at his hair and his breathing was coming out harsh and haggard. He felt like he wasn’t breathing and his skin was too tight and uncomfortable. His shoulders were shaking and he lowered his head, sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth.
Nothing and everything was wrong. Everything had just built up and Tim should be able to handle it, he was required to handle it. Instead he was curled up in a dark corner of his trashed apartment and trying not to scream.
One too many times had he been brushed off. One too many times he was talked down at, like he was nothing but trash. One too many times have people rescheduled plans with him. One too many times people have ignored him. One too many times he’s been pulled off the shelf and dusted, only to be placed right back.
Tim squeezed his eyes shut, going limp against the wall. He wanted to feel needed, to feel loved. He wanted everything to go back to normal. Normal like being apart of the Teen Titans. Normal like hanging out with Kon and Bart. God, he missed them so much that it hurt.
Because they never pretended to want him. They never pretended they loved him. They did and they made sure Tim knew it even when he didn’t believe it. Maybe he never truly did but they never gave up. They made Tim feel wanted and now they were gone. The only two people who ever truly cared were gone and they weren’t ever coming back.
Tim let out a scream then, raw and painful and it echoed throughout his apartment and made his throat scratch in pain. He didn’t cry, couldn’t. He’s shed too many tears already. He leaned forward and smashed his back against the wall in a fit of unheeded and irrational anger.
It dissipated quickly and Tim was left feeling numb as he cracked his eyes open. He was cold and lonely, he felt like he was six again and his parents had left for another dig. Tim didn’t miss the feeling.
He trailed his eyes over his apartment lazily, sighing at all the mess. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it unnecessarily. This is what he got for having a fit.
After a minute he managed to heave himself up and start cleaning. He had nothing better to do, it wasn’t like he had plans or anything. He picked up broken pictures, threw away empty take outs, folded clean clothes, threw dirty ones in the hamper and wiped down his coffee table.
The apartment looked decent after a while except for a wooden plank sticking up. Tim sighed before crouching next to, about to pull the the thing down before a metal box caught his attention. The one with all his old photos.
Not thinking he yanked the wood of plank off and put it aside. He reached in and pulled out the medium sized steel box. Tim pressed in the code without thinking, knowing it off by heart. If the code was punched in wrong it would release a gas to destroy all the pictures and evidence in side. Call Tim paranoid but he wasn’t about to let someone get a hold of it.
The lid popped up with a hiss and Tim ruffled through the pictures, a bittersweet smile slipping on. After riffling through the photos for a while Tim noticed that there was a false bottom in the box. A frown tugged at Tim’s lips, he hadn’t remembered that.
The dimensions were slightly off for the size of storage space the box should have provided. Tim pulled out a pocketknife he kept on his person and pried the false bottom up with ease. When the contents caught Tim’s eye he froze and the false bottom slipped through his slack fingers.
Two green vials glimmered up at him. Tim’s breath hitched and he reached forward and picked one of them up. It was cold and small in his hand and he fingered the glass in disbelief. These were the spare ones of Bart and Kon. He thought they were destroyed.
He swallowed thickly and looked in the box. He picked up the other one and gently placed them next to him. There were scratch marks at the bottom of the box, barley readable. Tim squinted before he made out the word ‘spare’ and ‘keep hidden.’
His airways felt blocked. He doesn’t remember much from the night he tried in vain to bring his friends back but he does know Dick had stopped him. When they had gotten back to the manor Dick had left him in the room for a minute and Tim had scrambled for the box, something clutched tightly in his hands.
Tim shook his head and swallowed again. He knows he shouldn’t, knows it might not even work. But as he looks at the green vials on the floor he knows he won’t be able to pretend he never saw them. They are the only parts of his friends, he can’t just let that go.
He was going to be selfish and many people will get angry. Tim doesn’t think he cares as he pockets the vials in his belt of the Red Robin suit. No, he knows he doesn’t. He needs them, he always has.
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Red goes for the base where there’s no one. It’s run down and collapsed, one of the ones the bats had exploded and attempted to destroy. Tim had known from day one it wasn’t, but he never told anyone and he doesn’t know why. Maybe he does and he just won’t admit it.
There’s no fighting to get in, no traps waiting for him. Red’s still careful though, looking for any signs of a trap or anything suspicious. There isn’t so Red makes sure he’s invisible. He doesn’t want anyone finding out.
Eventually he finds his way to the pool of green. It’s significantly smaller than when the base wasn’t collapsed and destroyed. It’ll do the trick though, Red tells himself. Prays to himself. It has to.
He kneels next to the pool of green, sitting on his legs and sinking into the mud around the pit. He pulled back his cowl with a deep breath, feeling his heart hammer against his chest painfully as the green glinted at him, whispering promises that Tim wanted to desperately believe.
Instead he shook his head and pulled the vials out carefully. His fingers trembled as he uncorked the first vial.
“Come back to me, Bart.” He whispered, tipping the vial to the side. The green inside it tumbled out, splashing and swirling into the lazuras. Tim waited.
And nothing happened.
“No, no, no.” Tim shook his head and uncorked the other vial with shaky fingers. He poured it into the pit, away from the other swirling heap. “Come on, come on!”
He watched it swirl and swirl like it was teasing him and it just wasn’t fair. Why wasn’t it working? He slammed a gloved fist into the muck of dirt and glared as his ribs squeezed around his heart.
“You have to work! You worked for Jason and Damian! You have to work!” Tim was sure he was yelling but he couldn’t care less. His throat scratched and he pounded his fist into the dirt again.
“This isn’t fair! You take everything from me and expect me to live my life like normal?! You take everyone away, everyone! Can’t I just have them back, just them!”
Tim let out a scream, hunching his body forward and letting his tears slip into the lazuras. It wasn’t fair. He’s just asking for them, just them. Couldn’t he ask for this one thing.
“Please.” Tim whispered, sniffling. “I don’t deserve them, I know that. But I need them, please, just bring them back.”
Tim waited and waited before he pulled his upper body up. His legs ached at carrying all his weight but he couldn’t be bothered moving. He leaned his head back, staring at the shadows on the cave walls.
“I’m pathetic.” He whispered before laughing. “So fucking pathetic.”
Tim laughed and then it turned into a sob and the tears started again. He stared at the the cave walls still, praying to whatever gods there were to bring them back. He didn’t deserve them and they didn’t deserve dealing with him but Tim needed them. He truly did.
When his tears dried out and his muscles ached he finally got up. His legs were stiff and sore and his face felt tight and scratchy. He pulled off his dirt covered gloves and pocketed them into the belt before sighing.
He should’ve know it wouldn’t have worked. The others would have known it wouldn’t have. Always the stupid one.
Tim turned his back as a wail pierces the air, loud and fierce and his heart jumped and his body grew cold and hot in disbelief.
He flung himself around, tumbling onto the ground and crawling on his hands and knees to get to the pit. A baby rested in the shallow bit, stark naked and wailing like a newborn.
Tim’s mouth hung open and he closed it, swallowing thickly. That was the spot he poured the first vial.
He reached forward, hands shaking before he stilled them. His left hand slid under the babes head and his right wrapped around his bottom. It was a boy.
He pulled the baby up, holding it in a cradle hold he had seen plenty of times. This wasn’t the first time Tim had ever held a baby but it felt like it was. He was terrified.
Tim studied the babe, felt his stomach squeeze as his wails calmed down, eyes cracking open a bare inch. Green eyes peered up at him and Tim let out a laugh of disbelief. His eyes were green, just like Bart’s.
“Hey, buddy.” Tim whispered as another wail pierced the air just like before.
Another baby boy rested in the shallows of the pit, exactly were Tim poured the other vile. As if to confirm it Tim saw a peak of blue eyes before they shut and he let out a weaker wail.
“Come here, little one.” Tim whispered, changing his position and going cross legged. With one hand he pulled his cape off around his shoulders and laid it in his lap. Gently he placed the first babe in before reaching for the other.
It wailed a little louder when Tim first picked him up and he winched. He sighed in relief when the baby boy calmed, eyes closing and chest rising and falling. Carefully Tim held them both before looking up at the cave roof.
“Thank you.” He whispered as a stray tear trailed down his cheek.
