This is so good, holy shit
Imagine the guilt Dick would feel, that very guilt pushing him to help Bruce find Tim. It was the least he could do, especially when Tim was the one who brought Bruce back with the barest of clues.
But unlike with Tim, who found Bruce, there are NO clues AT ALL. They have nothing to base their search on, nothing to help their search move forward, and nothing that will lead them to where Tim could be. He was literally just falling and laughing like a lunatic.
"The Joker," Bruce growled, standing up and driving all the way to Arkham.
No one could stop the Batman when he pushed his way inside, ignoring everyone as he marched up to the Joker's cell with bloodlust rolling off of him in waves. Every officer, therapist, and criminal could feel the rage and hatred from the Dark Knight. Wisely, they all stepped back, because it was like the 2nd Robin's death all over again.
The Joker grinned widely, maniacly, with ooen arms when the Batman stops at his cell.
"Batsy!" the Joker greeted, striding forward to smush his face on the glass, fogging it up with his breath a bit as he eyed the raging Bat up and down. He stepped back with a creepy chuckle. "To what do I owe the pleasure, hm?"
"Tell me where he is," Batman demanded.
"Hm? Who?" the Joker wondered, eyes wide in glee. "Did you lose a birdie? Is it another Robin?"
Batman hit the glass with a clenched hand. But it didn't break, as the glass was bulletproof thanks to the donations of the Wayne family. But that didn't matter.
The Joker didn't flinch, only widened his maniacal grin, laughing and spinning around in a circle before lying on his bed with his legs held up. "I envy the person who managed to do this, Batsy. Really! I do!" Then, the Joker sat up, giggling like an excited schoolgirl. "And here I thought only I could drive you crazy like this! Tell me, Batsy. Who is it? Who did it? Wanna team up to get rid of this wretched third-wheel?"
Batman said nothing. He glared at the grinning Joker, hands clenched so tightly people who looked at him thought that he could possibly drae blood through his gloves.
No one had the gall to say that the Joker hadn't left since being captured and admitted last week.
But no one had to say anything, because the Dark Knight punched the glass, which still didn't break. 'Thank you Mr. Wayne for the donations!' some of the staff inwardly cried, while stepping away to avoid getting shoved by the Bat.
They tried searching on whether Tim met anyone who could have influenced him.
Dick and Steph visits the cafe Tim frequents to. There, they have a suspect.
"His name is D.W., apparently," the barista said. "At least, that's what Timmy calls him, and that's what he makes me write on his cup. They're so sickenly sweet together. They officially became a couple two weeks ago, they told me themselves."
"Do you know what this D.W. does for a living?" Dick asks. "Or his contact number?"
The barista shrugs. "Photography, probably. But, when the camera's being used, it's Timmy who always uses it. So, I don't think that's his career or something."
Dick nods. Then, they grab their order and sit at a secluded place in the cafe.
"Oracle, what have you got?" asked Steph through the comms.
"Tim deleted the footage," she said, making both Dick and Steph frown. "There's nothing to retrieve, either. Everything had been cleanly cut and disposed of. I can't even find any footage of what D.W. might look like."
"Shit, we should ask the barista," Steph said, standing up.
Dick took over talking to Oracle. "Can you track the places that Tim deleted footage of?"
Oracle made a frustrated sound. "That's the thing. Starting two months ago, footage of three different places gets deleted all at the same time. Before that, he's been deleting only the footage in the cafe and in the park. Other times, WE."
Steph arrives just as Oracle said that. "The barista said that the guy has either blue or green eyes, and sometimes they're of different shades, so he might be wearing contacts. As for the hair, she thinks it's probably black or white, or even silver, so he probably wears wigs, too."
"How do we know he's not a meta?" Dick asked.
"Because the barista says that the dude makes it a habit to visit the comic shop and wear whatever the hell he buys from there," Steph replies, sipping on her drink. Then, she huffed. "It's probably Tim buying the things. But I'm not too sure. Maybe he is a meta. Maybe he isn't. But the barista did say that he's incredibly handsome."
"I'll make a list of places to visit from the different cameras Tim deleted footage from," said Oracle. "Maybe we'll be able to get more info from there."
There were too many places that were listed, but were organized by how many times Tim deleted anything from that place.
The most baffling thing is, they don't get any information on Tim's supposed civilian boyfriend. The only information they got is that, "Yes, Tim Drake comes here himself to buy from our store," and that, "No? I don't think he came with anyone else. He was definitely alone."
"Maybe it's his boyfriend that's bringing him to places?" asked Duke. "And maybe that's why he disappeared when he fell? Heck, maybe that's why he was laughing when he jumped? Because he knew he wasnvt in danger?"
Bruce glared at the screen of the batcomputer, eyes flitting from one piece of information to another. "He was being manipulated," he concluded.
"Tim? Manipulated?" Steph asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Tt. It's not manipulation, Father," said Damian. All eyes were on the youngest Wayne as he stepped up, arms crossed over his chest. But he wasn't looking to any one of them. "Drake may not fall to manipulation, but... He follows your teachings a bit too much."
The youngest Wayne remembers the fight on the T-Rex. How, instead of letting him fall to his doom, he pulled Damian up.
It made Damian feel guilty.
"He upholds Father's teachings well. He does not kill, no matter who tries to... to harm him," he said, finally looking to every one of their eyes, and then finishing on Bruce's. "But if there is one way to bring Drake to his doom, it is using those teachings against him. He may not be perfect in following them, but Tamara Fox would have been dead, and Captain Boomerang, and perhaps... even my grandfather and mother if he puts his mind to it."
"What I am trying to say, Father, is that he is not manipulated," Damian said. "But there may be a connection between his paramour and where he might have disappeared to. Whether he went of his own free will is to be determined."
Headcanon: Danny as Phantom has no heartbeat. He could also control who could hear him or not.
Kon heard it. He sat up with widened eyes, alerting the rest of the batfamily, Bart and Cassie.
"Kon? What's going on?" asked Cassie, slowly walking towards him with a hand reached out.
"He's..." Kon could hear a fast, loud, strong heartbeat of the very person they were trying to find. He knows this heartbeat. He knows it.
He stood up, and makes eye contact with Bruce. "He's in his room..." he said.
Bruce didn't wait. He started running, leaving everything he was working on in the batcave. Everyone else was right behind him.
Bart ran to Tim's room first, slamming the door open to see Tim lying on his bed, ragged breathing and clutching tightly to his bedsheets. His hair was stuck to his forehead.
The speedster didn't protest when Bruce shoved his way into the room, dropping to his knees once he got to Tim's bed. Everyone else arrived, and they all watched as Bruce lifted a trembling hand over Tim's head.
Tim was gasping, clenching his teeth and groaning softly on the bed.
Bruce laid a hand on his son's forehead, wincing and frowning at the heat. His son opened his eyes, which seemed glassy and unable to truly see him.
Bruce heaved a breath, lifting himself up to bring Tim into his arms.
"Oh, Tim." His son. His son is home. He hugs him closer, kissing his forehead and letting tears escape from his eyes.
"Master Bruce?" Alfred called, already at Bruce's side.
"Alfred, oh Al," Bruce cried, leaning towards his father figure, who gently held him close. "He's here!" he cried. "He's home, Al. My baby's home."
In his arms, Tim's own breath hitched, a few tears falling from his own, glassy eyes as he clutched on to Bruce.
"I'm... s'rry..." he breathed. "D'n't cry... my fault..."
Bruce gently shushed his son. His son. Oh, his son was alive and safe in his arms. He's home.
"It's going to be alright, Tim," said Bruce. Rocking him and Tim together on the bed, as if trying to put him to sleep. "You're safe. You're safe now."
But Tim only continued crying.
In the medbay, they ran some tests and took a look at his bloodwork. Leslie had also come by to give Bruce a second opinion.
Tim's fever doesn't seem to be going down after giving him some medicine. But there was nothing that's saying what he's going through is some kind of disease.
"I'm fine..." Tim breathed, although the oxygen mask on his face muffled his words. They all understood it well enough, though.
"Tt. Drake, you look anything but fine," said Damian, coming up to him to adjust the blanket on Tim's body.
But Tim shook his head, almost causing the oxygen mask to lay crookedly on his face. "I won't die," he said. "I... pr'mise."
Everyone in the cave paused in their movements, staring at Tim, not knowing what to say or how to react.
Surprisingly, it was Jason, who had been quiet the whole time he was with them, who responded. "Of course you won't, Little Bird," he said. And it was so gently said, they couldn't even believe it was him. "Don't let the title of being a damn cockroach be taken from you."
Everyone could see how Tim was looking at Jason, but they couldn't read his expression. Not even Cass. But, looking closely, Tim doesn't seem to be looking at Jason at all. It was like he was looking blankly at the air.
Then, Tim smiled. "Yeah," he said, almost a whisper. "I'm a damn c'ckroachshhh..."
"What's happening?!" Bruce screamed, eyeing the computer in a panic.
Leslie ran up to Tim and began checking his vitals. Alfred went to assist her. Stephanie was at the foot of Tim's bed waiting for krder of how she could help.
Everybody else had to step away.
For the next few days, Tim's temperature stayed dangerously high.
Tim was conscious through it all, although his sight and hearing had been a haze. His whole body felt numb.
The only clarity had been Danny's voice.
"Today is the day your molecules become rearranged," he whispered the moment conversations in the medbay lulled. "Your body has become hot enough..."
Tim whimpered, because not only can he begin feeling the heat, but he could also feel the pain. It was like being stabbed all over his body.
"I'm here, Tim," whispered Danny, easing Tim's panic. "You aren't alone. I am with you. I am here. I won't leave."
Blood began dripping from Tim's nose, causing Damian to shout in panic. "Father! Drake is bleeding!"
From Tim's nose, to his eyes, to his mouth and from his ears, blood was escaping from every orifice.
"Shit, shit, shit," Jason cursed, grabbing a wet towel to wipe Tim's face. The blood doesn't stop.
Bruce and Alfred finally made it, Stephanie taking charge to check on Tim's vitals herself.
Then, Tim's breath hitched and he opened his eyes.
And all were gaping, horrified, towards him.
His eyes were glowing a Lazarus green.
It was hectic after that day.
Because not only had he stopped bleeding, his body also decided to finally cool off. Well, cool off and continue cooling off to dangerous levels.
Tim breathes slower now. Kon confirming along with the machine that his heartrate had also slowed.
But what was a bit more prominent was the bodily changes. His skin had become as pale as a corpse, taking on a bluish tint where his veins are supposed to be. Then, his ears began becoming pointed, impish looking, as if to express exactly how devious the little bird is to be. When Tim yawns in his unconsciousness, they could spot how his teeth had grown fangs. Baby fangs. And it would have been cute if they weren't so worried about what Tim was becoming.
However, just as the transformation seemed to finish, Tim's complexion finally went back to a healthy shade. His heartbeat was still concerningly slow, enough to be passed as bradycardia.
And then, he finally lost the haze in his eyes. He was finally lucid enough to talk with everyone.
