Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim yawned, feeling his bones crack and pop as his previously broken bones mended themselves. He'd spent the past few weeks deep in an undercover mission, working to tear down a group of Hunters trying to engineer a poison that would only harm mythics.

Once he'd taken care of all the Hunters, Tim contacted Aspen and had her open a Doorway back to the manor. As he walked through the Doorway and into his second home, the magic dampeners Tim had on dispersed. 

Suddenly, the sharp scent of Death slammed violently into him, and it nearly knocked Tim over. Dread pooled in his gut as he stretched his senses to encompass the entirety of the manor. 

There was only one heartbeat in the manor other than his own, and it belonged to Alfred. 

Tim bolted down the halls, ignoring the icy fear dripping down his back. He forced himself to breathe, taking deep breaths to try and chase away the tension. 

"Alfred!" Tim screamed, a pressure building at the back of his eyes, "Alfred, please!"

"Master Tim?" Alfred rushed over, his expression both surprised and concerned, "What is it, dear boy?"

"Where's- where is Bruce and Dick? Where is Jason?" Tim spilled out at once, his hands shaking as he tried to keep his claws from showing. His breath came in violent bursts, and Tim was barely keeping his composure.

The immortal frowned, reaching out to gently steady him, "Master Dick is currently with his team off-world. Master Bruce and Master Jason had a horrendous spat a few days ago, and Master Jason took the Batplane and left. Master Bruce went after him- I'm sure he'll bring Jason back safe."

"A few- shit," Tim cursed, yanking himself out of the butler's grasp. Panic dug into his limbs, and Tim could barely think past it. He ignored Alfred's concerned words and rushed away. His blood-coated suit clung to his skin, but Tim couldn't care less. 

His heart was in his throat- Tim  knew  he shouldn't have left for the mission, and now Jason will be dead, and it'll be all Tim's fault.

"Hurry up," Tim cursed, anxiously pacing as the dial tone continued to ring. 

"Tim? What's wrong?"

"Aspen!" Tim shouted. He could nearly cry from relief. "Listen, can- can- you search for the tag! I had a magic tag on Jason, but he ran off, and he'll die and- and please. I can't lose him, Aspen, I can't!"

The Dragon chuffed soothingly, her calm voice brushing away most of Tim's hysteria, "It will be okay, Tim. There is a signal in Ethiopia alongside Bruce's. I only have Jason's general location, not the specifics. You'll have to search for him yourself. Doorway?"

"Yes," Tim nearly screamed, an itching and buzzing sensation under his skin pushing him to go.

Tim hung up the call and desperately rushed through the Doorway the second it stabilized. The sun graced against his skin- it was so different from Gotham, in a nearly taunting manner. 

With a wordless growl, Tim began his hunt.

He stretched his magic throughout the city, not caring as his Vulpine features revealed themselves, as he used more magic at once than he had in years. 

Fear clawed in his throat as he forced himself to remain calm. Fox magic relied heavily on emotions, meaning Jason's life depended on Tim's control over his emotions. He can do this. 

He can do this. 

Finding Jason was easy. All he had to do was search for a magic signal that matched Tim's. Finding Bruce was more difficult, but his priority was his brother, not his father. 

As he leaped from roof to roof, Tim cursed himself for leaving. If Jason dies, then it would be Tim's fault. He can't lose his brother, Tim wouldn't be able to survive the grief. 

The sun beamed tauntingly down on Tim's back, the rushing air blew past his face, and his cape fluttered in the wind. It was a direct contrast to the brewing dread in his stomach. Each second that passed by was a second Jason was closer to his Death.

Shoving away that thought, Tim forced himself to focus. 

The tag signal was growing in strength. Good, that meant Tim was growing closer. He nearly tripped off the roof while rushing to reach Jason, but that didn't matter because Tim was finally there. 

He perched on the neighboring roof overlooking the large warehouse, and his ceramic mask gleamed in the warm sunlight. Tim pinned his ears back and scrunched his face- the scent of blood was nauseating, and he could hear Jason's agonized screams from where he was. 

Forcing himself to fight against his instincts, Tim slowly and silently crept into the warehouse. There, he was met with the sound of metal meeting skin. The sound of Jason's gasps and sobs met Tim's ears, but he couldn't do anything. 

From where Tim was, he could see numerous bombs scattered around the warehouse, as well as a woman who was gagged and bound at the side. 

Bile rose in his esophagus, but Tim forced it back. Shadows reached up and wrapped themselves around Tim's limbs, and he swept around the building. The Joker's deranged laughter echoed through the building as he taunted and jeered at Jason.

The explosives were destroyed one by one as Tim carefully rendered them unusable. The moment the last bomb was destroyed, Tim allowed the anger and rage to flood into his limbs and seize Tim's throat with jagged fangs. 

Red coated his vision, and Tim struck. No one hurts Tim's family and gets away with it, no one . 

As the Joker loomed over Jason's prone body, Tim began to creep closer and closer, "Well, this was all well and fun, birdie, but I need to go. I've heard that your little Demon pet has been spotted around this city! I'll head out before your pet arrives, so I'll leave you as a gift for ole' Batsy~ Toodle loo!"

Just as the Joker turned to leave, Tim struck. 

A dark shadow blurred across the room and slammed into the man, sending the clown crashing through the pillar and slamming into the floor. Tim snarled, fury alive in every fiber of his being as he sank his ivory talons into the crazy bastard's flesh. 

"Oh, look who we have here!" the Joker cackled, his face illuminated by the intense light radiating from Tim's eyes. "Speak of the devil! See, I called it! I CALLED IT! AHAHHAAH, I CALLED-"

Joker's voice cut off his strangled scream as Tim dug his knife-like claws into the man's vocal cords. He reached shadows into the Joker's Self and drudged up a sense of unfiltered fear. Tim couldn't help the euphoria upon seeing the dark crimson stain on the Joker's pale skin.

He wanted this man to suffer. 

With flashing fangs, Tim ripped clumps of flesh from the Joker's body, relishing in his pained cries. 

It was music to Tim's ears. 

Tim forced the Joker to remain conscious through the violent pain and blood loss, yanking back his mask so that Tim's triumphant grin was the last thing the Joker saw. 

After severing the Joker's vocal cords, cutting off the man's screams and cries, Tim hooked his claws into the man's face and pulled him close. 

"Listen to me, you  wretched  good-for-nothing  excuse  of a clown. I hope that you burn. I wish that you spend the rest of eternity being eaten  alive  by thousands of bugs, never to find rest as every bit of your flesh is torn away by their sharpened mandibles. I wish that you never find peace- that all the people who suffered at your hands get to have a turn with you. I wish for your suffering."

Tim watched with poorly concealed glee as the light of life faded from the Joker's eyes. The man died painfully, his mind inundated with fear, and Tim couldn't bring himself to care less. 

Peeling himself away from the Joker's cooling body, Tim's boots left crimson tracks as he left the growing pool of blood. Just as Tim was about to reach Jason, Bruce arrived. 

Tim ignored Bruce as the Dragon froze in shock. Bruce's cowl didn't show much emotion, but Tim could tell Bruce was in disbelief. The sight was rather incriminating, but Tim couldn't find the will to care. Jason could've died, and Tim did more than Bruce despite being a Child of Death.  

"Sparrow," Bruce hissed, snapping back into reality as Tim gently lifted Jason into his arms. It was hard, but Tim managed. "Sparrow- what did you  do?"

"I got results," Tim spat, lips peeling away from his teeth behind his blood-stained mask, "I saved Robin when you were halfway across the city!”

The Dragon was taken aback, his voice cracking in something akin to fear, "T- Sparrow!"

Bruce reached over to grab Tim's arms, but the Fox snarled and nearly bit Bruce’s fingers off. Tim knew he would regret his actions later, but Jason was still dying.

"Shut up, Bruce," Tim hissed, "and focus on what's important! Me killing the Joker- who deserved to die- or saving Robin- your son."

At that, the Dragon faltered and readily accepted Jason when Tim handed him over. The Fox gave Bruce a warning growl before fishing out his phone and contacting Aspen. The Dragon's natural magic  should  be enough to keep Jason stable, or at least until they get to a hospital. And since Jason was part of Bruce's hoard, the healing effect should be more potent. 

"Aspen," Tim said the moment Aspen picked up. As the head of the Antirrhinum Coalition, Aspen knew of numerous meta and mythic-friendly shelters, clinics, cities, and hospitals. 

"Have you found him yet?" she asked, worry coating her tone. 

"Yes, and Bruce is with me. He's keeping Robin stable, but I'm unsure how long it will last. Robin has sustained numerous injuries: A broken leg- multiple broken ribs, and I'm sure he also has pretty severe internal bleeding. If you could open a Doorway to a hospital soon, that would be great."

Now that his blood lust had vanished, it was replaced by a creeping, itching, biting dread that refused to cease. If Tim hadn't forced on his calm and relaxed persona, he would've broken down into tears long ago. 

It left Tim exhausted and jittery as a shimmering Doorway appeared as promised. 

Everything else passed in a blur, and Tim could hardly remember what happened next. He had the vaguest memory of someone coaxing him out of his blood-soaked uniform, going through the motions of showering and changing, but other than that... Nothing. 

Tim remembered being wheeled away by a concerned Bruce. He remembered hard plastic chairs, too-bright lights, and he remembered... 

He remembered staring with numb shock as the doctors rushed around. Magic was thick in the air, warm and inviting and weaving together tauntingly with the weight of Death. He remembered watching from the threshold, staring with wide and fearful eyes as the doctors walked Bruce through the steps on how to keep his son alive. 

Despite it being "Unprofessional," it had its merit. Even the most inexperienced Dragon magic could do wonders, especially when it comes from a Wayne Dragon. Night Razers, as a species, may not be the best at wielding Life and Healing magic, but their magic potential was nothing to scoff at either. The Waynes, especially, were known in the mythic community for their prowess in fire magic.

The world blurred once more, hours blinking by like seconds as Tim found himself wrapped in the arms of his almost-father. They were bundled together on a comfortable leather couch, and Stephanie was also with them, acting as silent support. The air between them was slightly tense with unspoken words, but that was a problem for a later time. For now, Tim was more than content with finding solace in his father and sister's embrace. 

Chapter Text

Tim gently kneaded his paws on Jason's chest, letting a purr rumble through his throat as Tim's twin tails thumped in contentment. It was the middle of the night, and Tim couldn't scrub the memory of Jason's broken body and slowing heart rate from his mind. 

"Another nightmare, TimTam?" Jason asked, reaching over to brush his fingers through Tim's fur. Rather than responding, Tim pressed his head into Jason's hand and begged for more pets. 

He flicked his ears and focused solely on the reassuring rush of blood followed by the telltale ba-dum ba-dum of a beating heart. 

To think that a member of Tim's Skulk nearly died right under his nose... In moments like these, Tim couldn't help but feel relieved that Bruce was a Dragon. The only reason why Jason was here instead of six feet under was because Bruce was a Dragon. 

Because Dragons have magic based on light and Life, that is what they emanate regularly. If just being near a Dragon makes a stranger's headache disperse— even if Brucie was the cause in the first place— about the effect a Dragon's magic has on a Hoard member.

But there were also downsides to Dragons being creatures of Life: they hesitate to kill. Of course, most didn't mind killing prey animals to sustain themselves, but that didn't mean they condoned the killing of other sentient creatures. 

Tim could personally attest to the "Dragons hate killing" thing because Bruce was positively livid when he found Joker's body on the floor that day. Despite that, Tim still didn't care. If you could bring yourself to kill others, then you deserved to die. Simple as that. 

As he rested on Jason's chest, reassuring himself the scent of Death was gone, he didn't notice the footsteps until the door opened. Light flooded the room, snapping Tim's awareness, and he lunged. Ignoring alarmed shouts, Tim dug his fangs into the intruder's shins and snarled. 

"Hey, hey, shhh, Timmy," a gentle voice whispered after a pained hiss. "It's me, don't worry, it's okay."

At the voice, reality slammed back into him like a freight train, and Tim quickly yet carefully peeled himself away from Dick. The taste of blood clung to his mouth, and Tim couldn't help but whimper apologetically. 

"No, it's okay, sweetheart," Dick soothed, lifting Tim into his arms, "it doesn't hurt, I promise."

Tim gave Dick a doubtful look as his eldest brother carried him back to Jason's bed. The injured boy looked upset, a concerned frown on his face. 

"Are you okay, Dick?" Jason asked, accepting the offered Timmy into his arms. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," their brother nodded, "I've had worse."

Jason smoothed a hand down Tim's back, encouraging the fur to lie flat as Tim licked the blood from his mouth, "Of course you have, Boy Wonder."

"We've all been Boy Wonders!" Dick exclaimed incredulously, but Jason plowed on. 

"Yes, but you are the Boy-est of Wonders," Jason grinned before his expression sobered, "Actually, when did you get back? Weren’t you supposed to be off world for another week?”

Dick huffed, reaching over to scratch behind Tim's ears, "When we got to the Watchtower, I found the message Bruce left me and rushed back as soon as I could,I got back to Gotham a few hours ago. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, Jay..."

Jason softened, a wry smile climbing onto his face, "It's okay, Dick, don't worry about it. The Joker… well, he won't be bothering us anymore."

"Huh?" Dick blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion, "What do you mean? What happened?"

Tim grinned and flicked his ear as Jason pointed to him. All of a sudden, understanding flooded Dick's face. 

"What... What did B have to say about it?" Dick tentatively asked. 

Tim huffed and lifted his head, "He was pretty upset at first, but Jason's alive, and that's all that matters. He’ll get over himself.”

Dick’s expression shifted through an assortment of conflicted emotions before settling on soft understanding. The knot of anxiety in Tim’s chest loosened, Dick still cared, Dick won’t leave him! Thank the gods.

A soft silence stretched through the room before being broken by Jason, "Oh! I almost forgot! Guess what, Dickie?"

The almost-human blinked in surprise, "Uh, what is it?"

Tim tilted his head in consideration as Jason grinned and said, "Shortly before I was discharged from the hospital, Batman and Sparrow were contacted by someone."

Dick continued to stare at Jason both blankly and expectantly.

"He wants you to continue guessing," Tim whispered. 

"Ohhh, yes, uh… Did Gordan contact you?"

Jason and Tim exchanged impressed looks, but Jason prodded for more, "Yes, but which Gordan? The Commissioner, or Barbara?"

"I don't know," Dick shrugged and made confused noises, "Jim? Did Jim Gordan call you?"

"HAH!" Jason barked out a laugh, giving Tim a broad and smug grin, "Nope! She was your high school crush, you know. She's also studying to become a teacher."

Tim let out a gekkering laugh at Dick's dead-eyed stare, making fun of the man and earning himself a bop to the head. 

With an amused huff, Jason elaborated, "You literally said her name earlier, you dingdong."

"... Barbara?! " Dick exclaimed incredulously, rearing back in shock, "She did what?! "

Jason nodded as Tim snickered at Dick's utterly lost expression, "Yes, yes, she did. Barbara found out and demanded Bruce to let her in on our hobbies. Obviously, Bruce denied her request, but she did not let up. Keep up, Dick!"

Being a sucker for chaos, Tim couldn't help but chime in, "Jason wanted to have her called Tyto or Owl to match with the rest of us, but she wanted Oracle. Once he was out of the hospital, Jason guilt-tripped her, and they settled on Owl. She also argued so long with Bruce that-"

"She did!" Jason exclaimed excitedly, "Oh my god, it was so amazing. I can't believe you missed it! Your old spats with Bruce could not hold a candle to theirs!"

"Yeah! After we returned from lunch, they were still arguing. Eventually, Bruce and Barbara settled on comms for school months, and she can join us for the summers after she gets trained. Before then, she'll only be running comms."

"...It sounds like a custody arrangement," Dick commented, raising a single brow. 

Jason shrugged, "I don't care. Now, fuck off, Dick- a healing boy needs his beauty sleep! But leave Timmy, I want TimTam here."

Dick affectionately rolled his eyes at Tim's mischievous purr before he reached over and ruffled Jason's hair, "You dramatic brat."

"You ancient dildo," Jason shot back, all smug-like. 

With an affronted gasp, Dick recoiled as if he'd been struck, "I am NOT ancient! You take that back!"

"Well, I'm not a brat!"

"But I am tired," Tim interrupted petulantly, "so leave. Jason, you be quiet! Humans with broken bones don't have arguing rights- so shut up and go to sleep, or else I'll call Alfred, and I'll sic him on your ass."

”You’re a baby! Stop cursing or I’ll wash your mouth with soap,” Jason narrowed his eyes in playful warning. Tim rolled his eyes as Dick tucked them in, the eldest shooting Jason a soft, “Hypocrite.”

Dick dodged Jason’s swipe with a bright smile, ruffling both of his brothers’ hair before leaving the room. With warmth glowing in their chests, the three boys settled down for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

A few days later, they received the news. 

Tim had been trailing behind Jason as they wandered through the manor. Jason would roll his eyes, his left leg still in the cast, so he relied heavily on his crutches. The pair were just about to enter the library when Tim heard Bruce's footsteps approaching. 

Tim gestured at Jason, and they both waited for Bruce to appear. Like clockwork, the Dragon rounded the corner and froze at the sight of Tim and Jason staring at him. 

At Bruce's somber expression, Tim's own expression sobered, "Bruce? Did something happen?"

"Let's sit down first," Bruce responded ambiguously, leading the two teens into the library before handing Tim his phone. 

Tim answered with a confused twist of his lips, "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Timothy Drake?"

"Yes, who am I speaking to?" Tim shifted his tone, sounding colder, matching that of the stranger.

"I am Davis Warner," the man said. His voice was prim, proper, and without a single drop of emotion or compassion, "I am calling on behalf of the Bureau of Consular Affairs."

Tim's blood ran cold, and dread sank into his stomach. It was as if the ground was collapsing from under him, "Your parents, Jack, and Janet Drake, were returning from Florence, Italy, when their taxi suffered malfunctions and exploded. The first responders were unable to save your mother; she was found dead the moment they arrived. The official death was marked at 2:34 pm, June 29, 2010. Your father, on the other hand, is alive yet unconscious."

Tim blinked slowly, "Do you know how their taxi came to malfunction? What happened to the driver?"

"The driver was found uninjured," the man's voice was not helping with Tim's disconnect, "as for how the taxi malfunctioned, we are unsure. Since you are a minor, this is just to inform you of the situation. What happens to your mother's corpse will be determined by your father and your inheritance by a lawyer."

Without wasting another word, the man hung up, and Tim sat holding the beeping phone by his ear. 

Tim barely registered the phone being taken from his hands as a low ringing noise started in his ears. 

"It's going to be alright, Tim," Bruce soothed, gently brushing a hand through Tim's hair despite the mist leaking from his skin and the weak growl pushing from his throat. "We'll be with you throughout this, I promise. I promise."

Tim blinked sluggishly, his hands clenching as he glanced at the Dragon's expression, and then his eyes darted to meet Jason's. His brother's expression was sympathetic and understanding, a nearly pitying light in his eyes. 

Despite his pseudo-family's constant comfort and near-suffocating presence--- all stemming from their knowledge that Tim was capable of heinous acts in his grief--- Tim found himself focused furiously on the Batcomputer. His fingers flew furiously across the keyboard as he searched desperately for clues. His bots ran and scanned hundreds of hours' worth of camera footage. Tim was looking for something specific. 

Tim could only do something like this without interference because he knew Barbara was at the library and was away from her computer. It was a dirty move, especially since Tim was using his mist to layer a concealment spell. 

Illuminated by the pale light of the Batcomputer, Tim finally found something. It was a sequence of pings cascading into security footage taken from an alley. 

Pale blue-white eyes pinned on the screen as one Jack Drake walked into view. There were two men already there. One had dark hair with a lit cigarette in his mouth, and the other had ashy blonde hair.

"You know why I'm here," Jack spoke first, his voice trembling with barely concealed rage. 

The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes and spoke with heavily accented English, "How much are you willing to pay?" 

"€1.4 million," Jack responded with an arrogant tilt to his voice. God, Tim hated that human, Jack gave a bad name to all humans. If only Jack had died instead of Janet, that would make Tim so much happier.

Then, the rising irritation quickly shifted to anger- Jack shouldn't have ordered a hit on her. He didn't know why he was surprised. For a man whose job and hobby consisted of hunting down, murdering, butchering, and killing sentient creatures, Tim wasn't surprised he resorted to permanently silencing Tim’s mother. 

"Who's it for?" the light-haired man asked. 

Tim pulled another window, running the men's faces through his program and searching for their names. It was unsurprising how easy it was since both had been arrested many times already. The light-haired man was Matteo Pelosi, and the dark-haired man was Carlos Sergeto. 

"Janet Drake," Jack declared confidently. 

Sergeto sounded dubious, "You want to place a hit on your... wife?"

"That DEMON is not my wife," Jack snarled, his calm demeanor ripping away to reveal twisting and broiling anger hysteria. The Hunter's composure cracked like a dropped egg, breaking and shattering into thousands of unstable pieces. Tim wasn't there, but he kinda feels bad for those two. 

Tim has felt the effects of Jack's anger before, and it was never fun. If Jack had ever laid a hand on him, Tim knows that his mother would've killed the Hunter and married Bruce Wayne instead. 

Jack's anger continued, "That BITCH is a fucking demon that TRICKED ME! Her bastard son is- I wouldn't be surprised if he was a bitch like that Fox too."

"Why don't you do the job then?" Pelosi huffed, giving Jack a dirty look, "Ain't you a Hunter?" 

Jack sneers at the two men, and Tim thinks Jack is a prime example of not making a successful business deal. No wonder his mother was the head of Drake Industries. 

"Listen here, you worthless rats. I'm the one with the money- and I am the one paying you! I don't care how you do it, but you better kill that bitch, or you'll have to say goodbye to your money. I wouldn't expect you two mongrels to understand the intricacies of Gotham Politics." 

As the two Italians exchanged looks, Tim realized this was why Jack was also so grievously injured. The Hunter could not hold his mouth and experienced the consequences. 

Honestly, karma. Jack deserved it, and Tim itched to sink his claws into the Hunter's throat. 

"Fine," Sergeto huffed, "but for someone so public, it'll be €2.6 million."

Jack bristled, "€2.2 million."

"€2.3, but you pay upfront," Pelosi interjected, his face tense with irritation. 

"Half up front, rest after," Jack argued. 

Sergeto rolled his eyes and stuck out his hand, "Deal."

"Deal."

As the recording played out, nothing else happened as they went their separate ways. 

Tim pushed away from his desk, taking a deep breath as a wave of cold anger burned through his veins. Jack was still unconscious at the Gotham General Hospital, so it gave Tim time to gather what he needed. After scrubbing the Batcomputer of his tracks, Tim got up and began to prepare. 

He had a Rat to catch.