I really like tim drake

Gone.

Just gone.

In that moment, he's immensely grateful- that it's him, not Dick, who's found him this way. Because he knows... knows it would break him, that the man wouldn't come out the other side of this the same. So it's better this way. Better that it's him feeling his heart get clawed out of his chest by blunt talons. Because at least Dick has been been spared this.

Better him than his brother- than Batman.

He registers the clown's keyed up rambling- "two for one special! What a lucky evening!"

And just- he sees red.

His face is blank, mind numb as he stands from the crouch.

Joker looks enthralled, peak excitement as he stomps towards him.

The clown isn't expecting him to smoothly pop the crowbar on the floor just feet away him into his hands, like he's done with his board so many times in the past.

He doesn't expect him to hit so hard. Without hesitation.

But if there's one thing he's adept at, it's swinging a long thin melee weapon...

He doesn't make a sound. Doesn't give the monster the satisfaction of seeing him lose it outwardly. His expression is blank as he swings, and swings, and swings. Listening to the crunch of bone, the splitting of flesh, the clown's gasps and howling laughter.

Doesn't stop until there's far more red across the clown than the ricktus grin he started with, until he's splayed out beneath him gurgling out his laughter, cackling even now.

And the thing is- Harkness wasn't worth it. Killing him would have taken away far more than it would have given him. Would have meant Boomerang would have won in the end, making him break their code for a worthless nobody. He didn't get to take that from him.

But Joker... the reason he had ended up joining Bruce's crusade in the first place? Who paralyzed and tormented Barbara? Who brutally murdered Jason? Again? Who would have surely broken Dick Grayson had it been the man instead of him to find this place?

Another story all together.

He walks away. The Joker titters hysterically. Expects him to be calling for backup, having reeled it in.

He hasn't...isn't.

Tim finds one of Jason's glocks several feet away from his body. It's not empty. Ideal.

He approaches the figure squirming on the floor, and clocks the exact second the clown realizes he's made a grave error. The Joker sputters frantically-

"Now hold up, let's not get carried away! Think of Batsy-"

But he is. Dick- not Bruce, because he knows where this will ultimately have him stand with the elder of the two men. But Dick will be fine. None the wiser of what's happened tonight, what he's lost... and Damian- he'll be safe. Dick will never have to worry about the clown getting his hands on the boy ever again.

He pulls the trigger.

Again...and again...and again.

Until the clip is empty- and he's certain no tricks the Joker has up his sleeve can bring him back from this one.

He wishes he felt...something.

But he's still numb.

Numb, and needs to make sure that the others don't come spilling in, eventually.

His gloves are slick as he fumbles in his belt for his burner. He doesn't want to think about that too hard. The phone rings several times before it's answered- a disgruntled voice on the other end.

"Oi, Red? What's wrong? You never call before texting?"

His lungs seize- and Pru catches the sharp cutoff of breath.

"Tim!"

He squeezes his eyes shut.

"I-I need an extraction..." He chokes out.

"What the hell-"

He rambles off the coordinates-

"- Hood is dead... and I- I've killed the Joker. I need an extraction, a cleanup crew. Come get me. Please..."

Pru manages to get a "Roger that" forced from her lips before Tim hangs up.

The problem of course now is that he's alone... things are catching up with him, and Jason's just...right there, in the room with him and-

It's not fair. Jason shouldn't have had to go through this once, let alone twice. He can't imagine how the man felt, knowing what was going to happen, having already lived through it once. The terror. The resignation... the knowing that no one was coming for him- because no one knew he was even in Gotham.

He drops to his knees next to the body, and pushes the man's hair away from his face.

Tim wishes he had gotten there sooner, somehow.

Wishes it had been him instead. Would have been better that way, he thinks.

He only realizes he's crying when the splish of his tears hitting tacky blood alerts him to it... and once he's started, he can't stop.

It's fucked up- he thinks, as he lets himself just collapse on the floor beside him. Laying in a stretch of cooled blood, staring into the vacant eyes of his predecessor, mourning everything that could have been, and wasn't- wouldn't be. The remorse, the guilt... the childhood crush that had been carved from his throat and beat from his body on the floor of Titans Tower.

He'd done a whole lot of not forgiving- of holding a grudge as stubbornly as Bruce held onto the cowl.

It seemed all so very stupid and pointless now. Because if he had just tried, like those few hints of an attempt Jason had put forth, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Because he would have at least had one of them in his corner.

Pru finds him cried out, laying parallel in pool of blood next to the body, hours later. He worries her by not responding at first, not until her hands are on his shoulder, and he jolts out of his head. He tries not to think about things as the- shadows? start prying the Joker's body off the concrete.

He feels horrible about the look on the woman's face, and how he's put it there. The concern and terror. He can only imagine how everything looks. How he looks.

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised about the Shadows... that Ra's had never quite pulled his presence from Gotham completely, because of him. That Pru would of course call them in for cleanup, for something like this...

But it hits him-

That maybe everything has a reason in the end...

It only takes him a few minutes, Pru fussing over him all the while, to make up his mind.

He's already ruined, after all. Bruce would never forgive him after this- and he would find out, eventually. Better to make the best of it, to have at least one good thing come of it all.

After all, he still had one bargaining chip. One that Ra's sought after, and was worthless to everyone else.

Himself.

"Pru...I need you to contact Ra's. I need you to take- all of this, to Nanda Parbat."

He sees it register immediately, what he wants to do.

"You're out of your mind!" She snarls. "You know what he'll want. You know he wants Todd dead- what the price of such a thing will be. He'll never let you go.

"But I'll have you, right?" He asks-

And she deflates- because she can tell he's made his choices. The proof evident in the mutilated body in the corner that the Shadows are still collecting the blown off pieces of, and how Tim had been laid out beside the man before them, blood seeping into his suit, trapped in his head until she'd roused him.

"Yeah Tim... you'll have me there." She murmurs, resigned, and it hurts how genuine his sad smile is, because she knows that even though he wants this- he doesn't.

She makes the calls. Eventually she must get the right return call, because eventually Pru is hauling him to his feet, to usher him out of the maintenance chambers Joker had been holed up in.

But he doesn't want the Shadows touching Jason- he doesn't trust them, wants eyes on his body at all times, and Pru relents- helps him haul Jason out to the surface herself, the ninja surrounding them- masking them from view, as they steer them towards their transport.

A van ride- then the plane. Tim hardly registers what's going on around him. He lets his brain shut down throughout their trip. Manages to doze off, Pru leaning against his side, his hand fisted in the sheet covering Jason's body.

He doesn't know how much time has passed by the time they arrive in the mountains. It feels simultaneously like forever, and yet like they only just left. He figures that's not a great sign.

Neither is the fact that Ra's awaits them outside the plane.

He panics then of course. In part because of what he's about to do, but also because he realizes that he's going to have to leave the body, and that's just-

Pru puts a hand on his shoulder, grounding him.

"I've got him. Won't let 'im out of my sight. Do what you need to do Tim."

It's comforting- yet not, but it's the best he has to work with.

Ra's looks... disturbed as he approaches. Vaguely it registers that he must be covered in gore, between the clown and laying in the blood. Not that there was much he could have done about that in transit.

His instincts scream at him as he drops to his knees at Ra's' feet.

"Please." He begs. He knows he needs not elaborate

"Tch... On your feet detective. Groveling is unbecoming of you."

He meets the man's eyes, tired, and finds them strangely neutral. Giving nothing away.

He rises.

"I-"

"-Will go bathe and make yourself presentable before we speak." Ra's insists.

He fumbles at that, mouth left agape, knees shaking. He vaguely realizes he can't remember when he last ate, and while that normally wouldn't be much of a problem after everything, shock might be a real concern.

He nods, because he can't force a different response in the moment. He shoots Pru parting glance as the Shadows lead him away

They don't leave him alone. It's probably for the best. He practically clings to the stone wall as water cascades down his shoulders, flushing the blood off his body. He doesn't like the feel of eyes on his nude form, but now wasn't the time to be body shy, and he knows they wouldn't dare touch him.

He nearly goes down when it's time to make his way to the tub, and he ends up scooped up beneath his arms on both sides, and placed gingerly into the large basin.

He doesn't know how long he soaks in the water, letting the warmth and perfume of the incense in the air soothe him for a time. But eventually they haul him to his feet, skin prunned but cleaned, and tuck him into loose linen trousers and a robe.

He's unsurprised when they walk him to Ra's chambers- but is surprised to find him seated at a small table, and to be pressed down into the chair across from him.

Tim's reminded of his earlier shakiness, as Ra's pushes a plate of finger foods at him. Given he hasn't the slightest idea what's in store for him next, he eats, despite not knowing what he's putting into his mouth. At the very least he knows it's unlikely to be poisoned. He's passed the tea next, and he washes down the food with it, feeling sated and oh so very tired in the wake.

"You must recognize that I would not go to such lengths for anyone else, Timothy."

Tim steels himself, and nods.

"When my daughter threw that boy in the pit against my wishes, simply to play her games and attempt to win back Wayne's favor, I have wanted him purged ever since... as she should have done when I requested as much beforehand. The fact that I am willing to entertain his second revival at your behest should be rather telling, yes?"

"Of course..."

"If we proceed, you will not be leaving here and returning back to Gotham. Your role here will be vital- involved. I have already lost two of my heirs to that wretched city and Wayne's interference, I will not take kindly to you backing out. Keep that in mind. What I gift, I have no reservations in taking back. It's by your mercy alone that I allow use of the pit to that man... do not make both of us regret that decision."

"and...and after? What becomes of him? Jason will be allowed to leave, right?" Because if Jason were to become a prisoner... what even was the point?

"Todd will be allowed to do as he wishes." Ra's confirms, jaw tight.

So... Tim surrenders himself to his fate, and whatever comes of it.

Jason will be free- alive. Dick need not know he ever died at all, and even if he does find out it will be water under the bridge as he'll have already come back. And he'll just be... gone.

No one even needs to know why, until they figure it out- probably not even from his end of things, but Joker's. He'll just... digitally send in his resignation to W.E. to Lucius. Send out a message to the Bat computer, outlining his retirement and moving on. He suspects they've half been expecting it for some time anyway.

Tim will just... adapt.

"Not that I suppose it matters in the end...but will I be confined here? Locked up?"

Ra's looks smug.

"Not at all... as I said, you are to become rather important. Not a prisoner. After all, you are here of your own free will, are you not?"

"Yes... I am." But even a massive enclosure is still a cage when his compliance has a life riding on it. No point in saying as such, Ra's already knows he has him- for whatever that entails. "Very well, let's get to it then... I don't exactly know how long he's been gone. I didn't bother to ask. I do have one more request, if you don't mind."

"That would be?"

"Make sure you do whatever you need to, to ensure the clown doesn't come back... as far as what's in our control, let this be the end of him. Finally."

Ra's agrees. Has Tim rise and follow him out. Eventually they come to a stop, and enter the pit chamber. To his surprIse, Pru is already there, standing watch over the body, but so are numerous shadows.

He's not so sure he wants to watch this- but knows he must. In part because Ra's will demand it, but also because he has to know. Has to see Jason claw his way to the surface, alive, and not just a reanimated shell.

He wishes they didn't have to put their hands on him- that they didn't have the manhandle his form, and practically chuck the body, stiff with rigor into the glowing depths...

But he watches all the same. Fists clenched at his sides, holding his breath all the while.

He flinches at the splash when they release his body.

It's a brutal, long drawn out twenty seconds, before the waters start to churn, and the bubbles rise up. Almost just as long before Jason rears up, head cresting the water, while he roars out a garbled scream.

The air punches into his lungs. He watches as Jason flails, eventually gets closer and closer to the edge of the pit, as he finally claws his way up and out with wild eyes.

The Shadows don't give him the opportunity to attack- they hit him with multiple tranque darts from afar.

"Cannot have him slaughtering our men... he may sleep the madness off secured safely within his own chambers. You understand, of course." Ra's breaks the silence, answering unvoiced questions.

He nods.

Wonders if he'll get to rest himself anytime soon, because he's so exhausted by that point, both physically and mentally.

He gets his answer pretty quickly however- much to his shock and horror.

Because Ra's strikes with no warning...

He only has seconds to feel the terror as he falls, unable to catch himself as the palm strike between his shoulder blades sends him careening over the rocky edge of the pit.

Tim drowns in the vat of green.

-x-x-x-

He comes to, unsure of how long has passed. Something akin to a migraine aching behind his eyes. He's long dry, dressed in silk, oils rubbed into his skin. The fact that his everything no longer aches for the first time in years doesn't stanch the horror he feels. Because the pit hadn't been a part of the agreement-

Or perhaps it had, hadn't it?

He'd given himself to Ra's, of his own free will. He supposed it was foolish to have thought he would have say in such matters. He should have expected. His lack of spleen made him weak- susceptible.

He should have known.

Tim lets his fingers ruck up under the bottom hem of his top, and skim over his side. It's smooth, flesh no longer puckered from the scarring caused by the counsel gutting him, and the surgery that followed.

Lets his fingers slide over his throat, searching for the indent left by Jason's first ever attack on him. Gone as well.

He's a blank slate.

Tim's not sure how he feels about that. To some degree, it's a relief, like he can start anew.

But then he remembers where he is, and what he's committed to...and he's certain he's not going to like where things lead.

-x-x-x-

Jason wakes, terrified, angry- because he knows where he is, and what's been done, even if he doesn't know the how or the why.

But being at a League base means he's in danger. He knows that without a doubt, before he even realizes he's in chains.

He screams, panicked, because first the Joker had him bound, beaten, and dead- and now Ra's has him alive, and trapped, in chains... and he'd rather be dead than at his mercy too. It's all too much, and no amount of struggling gives him any purchase to even attempt removal of the cuffs on his wrists and ankles, because there's not enough give to get his limbs anywhere close to one another. Strung up upright, he can only gape in terror as Ra's sweeps into the chamber, in person.

From there on out however, his brain just short circuits.

Because Ra's fills in the gaps from his stint of not occupying his body.

He doesn't even tell him, so much as he shows him- so that he believes. Because of course the clown would be taping him, would want to show Batman every sick vicious moment of it all.

Except, Ra's skips all of that- instead he shows the after.

Tim found him.

And fuck, he's never hated watching something more because he can see what a horrible sight he makes, and if it had to be anyone, it should have been Bruce, not any of the Robins.

And Tim...is clearly very much not okay, having found him.

He screams at Ra's to shut it off, that he doesn't want to see.

But-

"Oh, I think you do."

And he ends up tranfixed- pulse stuttering, because Tim, calm as can be... wails upon the clown on the screen. Smashes him over and over again with the crowbar he'd been killed with.

Until the bastard is laying there, broken and twitching, and he feels- fucking euphoric.

Tim did that. For him. Gave the clown a taste of his own medicine, for once.

It wouldn't take much more... and god, he wished he could reach into the screen, tighten his hands around that throat, and end it-

But Tim picks up his gun.

He holds his breath, feels his pulse hammering, stares with his eyes impossibly wide, and-

Shot, after shot, after shot... Tim unloads the remainder of his clip into the Joker. His head, his chest, major arteries...

For him.

Tim kills the Joker without hesitation, all for him, and-

He calls for help? But not from the Bats.

Ra's speeds the video up.

He watches Tim collapse beside him. Lay there in his blood, stating vacantly across at him. Watches as the woman arrives, and frantically tries to pull Tim back from wherever he's gone inside his head. She's successful, eventually.

The Shadows roll in, start messing with the clown's corpse. Meaning this woman is League...meaning-

"So you see, you have much to thank Timothy for." The man starts, cutting the feed. "He avenged you. Chose you over Wayne. He knows that he cannot go back, now that he's done the unthinkable in the detective's eyes."

"But..why?" He manages to choke out.

He feels faint. His body, unsure of how to proceed. He's livid, distraught. Wants to cry, wants to laugh. To curl up and die- claw the demon's eyes out. Wants to beat some sense into that beautiful idiot, for doing something so stupid for a piece of shit like him. Wants to grab on and never let him go. He feels sick- he's half hard. It's too much.

It's too much.

"He got down on his knees, to beg me for your life. I'm sure my daughter made you well aware that I wished to see you dead. You can imagine, I suspect, the promises he had to make me- the allegiance he has sworn, to see you breathing. Whole. Yet still, despite all of that, he wished to be certain that I would left you go afterwards... free to leave, without pursuit. Thankfully for yourself, that which Timothy offers me far exceeds your worth as a cadaver."

"You sonovabitch!-" he snarls, thrashing forward in his bonds.

"You could of course, of your own free will, stay... I did promise him that you were free to do as you wished. If you are so concerned with his well being, you could always stay and guard him...ensure his safety. After all, he killed for you. Has forsaken Batman for you. What greater act of love could one commit, for someone the likes of yourself? Who else will go to such lengths for you? Not the Bat, certainly."

He slumps in his chains.

It's obvious of course.

"You've been playing us, from the moment that woman called you, haven't you?"

Ra's grins, all teeth.

"I have lived many a lifetimes. I do love a game of chess. The clown did me an unexpected favor, in having filmed his deeds. You never would have reacted so strongly to me simply telling you the tale. Seeing is belief, after all. I never would have dreamed that Timothy, after everything, would become so desperate for anything that he would willingly give himself over to me. I'm not so foolish to think that he will keep his word should you leave. Eventually, like a siren song, he will be drawn to seek you out. If he went to such lengths, he will be unable to give you up for long. If you stay...I need not worry. There is nothing more for him out there otherwise. He is well aware of the bed he has made. They may not yet know of his sins, but I am certain he has no doubts that things shall come to light eventually. Afterall, as the saying goes- three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth."

And Jason is stuck- he knows he is. Because Ra's is right- no one has ever done anything like this for him, and it's unlikely anyone else ever will. He can't leave Tim at the man's mercy after all of this, or be the reason Ra's wages war on Tim sometime in the future.

He should be dead. Twice over. But he's not- and he's just been floating around aimlessly for a year now, before he made the mistake of treking back to Gotham, starting all of this.

He can do this, this one thing he's good for, and keep Tim safe. He owes him that much- after absolutely everything.

With this scenario...Ra's is unlikely to kill either of them. At least, not permanently.

Worst comes to worst, he and Tim take the bastard out, once and for all, some point down the line.

For the sake of not going on, and on, and on in an ask and not fic form:

Jason says he'll stay. The shadows are ordered to uncuff him, but he's not permitted to leave the room.

Ra's returns to Tim's chambers, and he of course insists on seeing Jason, so he has proof that he's alive and in one piece.

Ra's brings him to Jason- and to Tim's shock, he gets the entirety of Jason up in his business, curled around him, a living wall between him as Ra's.

He expected anger- vitriol spewed at him for subjecting him to the pit a second time. Instead Jason clings to him, and wants him as far out of Ra's reach as he can manage.

Everything happens fast.

Neither are used to that amount of attention, the devotion, they fall into it hard.

Ra's lays things out for Tim bluntly, what he expects of him, his duties, his role.

He reveals that with Tim secured as his next heir, his next step would be to prune Talia's branch from the bloodline- that he will not relent in regards to his own daughter...but given the circumstances, he's willing to leave the fate of her get in Tim's hands.

Tim of course insists Ra's not so much as touch Damian. They might hate each other, but he doesn't wish him dead, and he certainly would do that to Bruce- to Dick.

Which of course leads into the reveal of Heretic, and all the spare parts clones sitting in vats.

Tim's a special sort of horrified.

Ra's assures him that this was all his daughters doing- after all, the pit was far less crude than growing parts. He expects the pardoning of Heretic, and his mingling into the guard- sentimentality being what it was, and the brute not having the mentality to pose anything more than a physical threat.

He does not however expect Tim to order the clones be spared, for them to be released from their pods, given agency, taught. He warns Tim of the foolishness- but Tim brushes him off.

Ra's worry is misplaced- because Tim treats them with kindness, with care. Like actual children. Assassins- Ra's insists on their training, their utilization as added guard for Tim of course, but children all the same.

And Tim- he doesn't often do things the way Ra's expects him to, but he likes the surprise. Tim keeps him thoroughly entertained.

And Ra's- he eventually drops the posturing. Tim is more adept, more interested in League happenings and projects than Talia or Dusan ever were.

He still has to make the more unsavory calls- Tim still refuses, has reservations, and he's certainly not giving Todd any power. But it's nice to take a step back. Relax. For the first time in ages.

Tim is...confused. But pleasantly surprised? Because once Ra's got what he wanted, the creepiness levels dropped tenfold- no more attempts to sic his relatives on his dick, no more flirtatious undertones to his speech, no more bad touch hands on his shoulders, his arms, his thighs.

Instead it's meals, tea, katas. Games of chess and go. Musing over holdings, League plans, property acquisition.

He wonders perhaps, if after everything, Ra's had just been lonely- yearning for enrichment, intelligent conversation.

Because Tim expected far, far worse when he essentially sold his soul to the man.