❤️‍🔥

The first time Tim Drake kisses you, it’s directly after you’ve taken him scuba diving.

Days before your actual first date, the plans for which he has not revealed to you at all, he’s taking you back to your dorm and just before you can reach the door he pulls you in.

He kisses you softly, lingering on every last touch of his lips to yours. Like he’s worried he’s going too fast but he just can’t seem to pull away. Like maybe he’s still worried you’ll disappear if he can’t find a reason for you to stay.

When Tim finally does pull away, he stares at you. Gauging your reaction to an impulsive action on his part, trying to determine if he’s crossed a line.

“Sorry.” He murmurs finally, but he doesn’t let go.

You blink, still trying to reboot. “What for?”

“I… Wanted to wait until our date on Friday…” He mutters, eyes darting away from you as he ducks his head.

You smile slightly, bringing one hand up to his chin so you can tilt it upwards. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” Tim’s brow furrows slightly, as if the fact that you’re even still standing here confuses him.

“Tim…” Your hand drifts from his chin to his cheek, gently stroking his skin with your thumb. “I’m surprised you lasted the entire day without doing that.”

That earns you a crooked smile. “Guess I wasn’t very subtle.”

“You were not.” You confirm with a warm smile. “But it was kind of nice.”

“Oh yeah?” He murmurs, leaning back in.

This time you close the distance, with only a little more confidence than when he did it. The kiss is much the same as the last, slow and lingering and sweet, even as Tim gently tugs you closer to him. You’re not sure you could ever get sick of this.

But the need for air separates you, leaving you both breathless and staring. Those cornflower blue eyes of his shine with so much affection that you have to wonder what you did to deserve this.

The pink dusting his cheeks and the look in his eyes is so tempting, and you can tell he’s thinking much the same as you when he starts to lean in again.

“Alright lover-boy.” Steph’s voice drawls from somewhere behind the two of you, making you both jolt away from each other. “Scram before I decide to roll up a newspaper. We have midterms to study for.”

“Right. Okay, I’m going.” Tim replies, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles before he starts backing away. “I’ll see you later.”

You watch him go, lingering in the hallway until he disappears around a corner and Steph gently pulls you back towards your dorm by the arm.

All the while, your smile doesn’t fade for even a moment.

For your third date, Tim takes you to the aquarium.

At first, you assume it’s because of your major. And it’s sweet of him to think of something related to what you’re passionate about.

Until he mentions that they recently got some seals in, on loan from Metropolis as some kind of test-run. If all goes well, the seals will be a permanent fixture.

For a few dreadful moments, you wonder if this is his way of telling you that he knows.

Is he even going to take you to the aquarium, or is he about to start grilling you? Is he waiting for you to admit it to him? What did you do to tip him off?

“I thought you might like to see them,” Tim explains, wrapping one arm around your waist as he leads the way to the doors. “Since they’re your favourite animal and all.”

Oh. Oh right. You did tell him that, didn’t you?

Of course he wouldn’t know, you haven’t done anything to give it away. You’ve barely had time to change to your other form since he confessed. Mostly because of midterms, but you can’t deny that Tim’s been taking up a substantial amount of your time as well.

It doesn’t bother you as much as it usually would this time around.

Wandering through the aquarium with Tim is fun. He knows more about aquatic life than you expected, even lists off facts that the average person wouldn’t be aware of. You suspect it has something to do with his secret identity, but when you innocently ask him how he knows so much he attributes it to a Wikipedia rabbit hole he went down a few weeks ago.

Knowing him, that could be the actual truth.

Still, he listens attentively when you tell him about the fish in each tank. And hopefully doesn’t notice when you look at some of them with a little too much interest, bordering more on hunger than academia. Some of the fish you eat as a seal aren’t exactly considered edible by human standards, but your instincts bubble to the surface anyway.

(He does notice.

Of course he would notice how you watch some of the fish with this odd sort of tension in your body and what almost looks like a predatory gleam in your eyes.

But Tim Drake, with no suspicions that you are anything but what you appear and still living worry-free in the honeymoon period at the beginning of a relationship, doesn’t pay it any mind.)

Things start to fall apart when you reach the seals.

At first, everything is good. As weird as it feels to observe other seals in this form, it’s also a somewhat fascinating experience. You perceive colours differently with your human eyes, so they look different now than they would if you encountered one in the wild.

And it’s kind of interesting to see Tim’s reaction to them, he watches the seals through the glass with this fond smile on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen before. And then, as if sensing your gaze, he starts talking without taking his eyes away from the seals.

You try to listen, really you do, but you turn your head to look back at the seals and find one of them staring right back at you. It’s not a selkie, because you’d know if it was, but… It’s staring at you.

“...But I guess you already knew all that, huh?” Tim asks, his voice sounding far away as you drop his hand and start walking towards the glass. You think he might say your name too, but you barely hear it as you kneel in front of the glass.

The seal makes its own way across the icy ground until it too is just on the other side of the glass, still staring up at you with big, wet eyes. Without really thinking, you gently press your palm against the barrier between you, watching in fascination as the seal bumps the same spot with its nose.

Almost like it knows what you are. Like it recognises that you look like a human, but behind the facade you are just like it. A quick glance at a nearby sign tells you that this one is called Lilo. Two years old, born in another aquarium across the country.

All she’s ever known is enclosures like this. Trapped in this human world, though she likely doesn’t realise it. You wonder if she longs for the open ocean just like you do.

And just like that, the last month comes rushing back to you. A tidal wave of longing that freezes you in place until the worst of it is over. You want to return to the ocean, want to put your pelt on and feel the water rushing over and around you.

You want-

“Hey,” Tim breathes, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, “you okay?”

You blink and look up at him, the spell broken as his face comes into focus. If your eyes are somewhere between human and seal like you suspect they might be, he doesn’t mention it. He’s crouching beside you, frowning slightly as he studies you for any sign of illness or injury.

And it’s sweet, really it is, but suddenly everything feels too much.

Just like that first day you’d met Tim, you feel that same nigh-unbearable itch under your skin. This form feels wrong, even though it’s yours. To ground yourself, you rest a hand on your pelt, carefully tied around your waist like always. The movement does not go unnoticed, and you can already tell it’s been catalogued for later, just one more thing he’ll think about when he has the time. One more nail in the coffin he doesn’t even realise exists yet.

You take in a breath, trying to keep the shaking as subtle as possible as your gaze darts back to the seal that started all of this. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Lilo lets out a little arf and pokes the glass with her nose again before turning away, shuffling along the ground until she can dive back into the water and join the others.

You stand abruptly, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Can we go?”

“Yeah, of course.” Tim says slowly, still studying you with that same intense stare that used to make your skin crawl. He stands after a moment, leading the way to the door on the other side the room from where you came in. “There’s still a couple rooms to look in, but we can go straight through if you’re not feeling up to it.”

It’s a struggle, but you force a bright smile and entangle your fingers with his, trying to lift your spirits and cover up… Whatever that was. “No, I’d like to look at them.”

“Okay…” He replies, glancing down at your hand in his then back up to your face, still dubious about the whole thing. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” You insist, tugging him along with faux-excitement that you’re sure he can see right through. “We haven’t even seen the lobsters yet. Not to mention the rest of the crabs.”

At that, some of his earlier enthusiasm returns to his face, his lips quirking up into a little grin. “You’re determined to see every last crab in this place, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” You snort, some life returning to you at the prospect. “Carcinisation is a fascinating process, who wouldn’t want to see the results?”

(Tim, for all his worries after your recent strange behaviour, lets you change the subject and pretend that you’re fine even though he can tell that you aren’t.

But the metaphorical scales have fallen from his eyes, and now…

Now he knows something strange is going on here. The only question is: what?)

Tim is really early today.

Like, showed up before you even left for your daily swim early.

You saw Red Robin and Spoiler on the news last night, chasing an unknown supervillain on campus; maybe that’s why he’s here so early. To make sure you’re alright. Or maybe he and Steph have some vigilante-related stuff to hash out.

Either way, you’re not going to let it bother you.

“Good morning.” He lifts his (your) mug up as a greeting when you walk in.

It’s a shame that he’s so good at controlling his expressions, because you can’t tell just by looking at him why he’s here so early. “Morning.”

His eyes drop to your bag. “Oh, the pool’s out of order, you won’t be able to swim today.”

You blink. There’s no way he could know that.

If you didn’t already know his secret, you know that this is the moment you would begin to suspect he had one. Now you have to decide if you’ll let it slide or if you’ll ask the question he’s probably expecting you to ask.

You can’t ask him, though. Because he’ll tell you that he walked past the pool on his way here. But you know that he likes to park in the lot closest to the dorms, which is nowhere near the pool and wouldn’t require him to walk past it. Maybe he’ll say he saw something on the bulletin board, but this place isn’t that organised, the post won’t go up on that board until 10. He knows that.

If he goes with the excuse of walking past the pool, and you ask why he was walking past the pool when it’s nowhere near his usual parking spot, he’ll lie again. You know he’ll say that he had to park closer to the pool this time because the lot near the dorms was full. You also know that the lot is only ever full on Friday nights in the two hours between the last afternoon class and when everyone finishes pre-gaming and leaves for the club.

You also know that he’ll suggest there must be some on-campus event going on that filled the lot earlier than usual this morning. And you’ll know that he is lying, because there’s no such event scheduled until next month.

You decide not to ask, in the end. Because if you ask, he’ll have to lie to you.

“Oh.” You say, your entire vocabulary escaping you. “I’ll… Go get dressed then.”

“I could take you out for breakfast instead.” Tim offers, putting his mug aside. “We’ll have the time, after all.”

If he thinks it’s odd that you didn’t question him, he doesn’t show it.

“That sounds great.” You nod, shooting him a little smile before you turn to go back into your room. “Thanks, Tim.”

Once you’re in your room you lean against the door, heaving out a sigh. This sucks.

Not breakfast, but the pool being out of order… You don’t have time to go to the nearest public pool every morning. And without a daily swim you’ll have to go to the beach more often. You only get away with going as often as you do now because you like snorkelling and scuba diving, which seems to be a valid explanation for Steph and Tim. But it’s not exactly beach weather right now so if you start going more often that will definitely raise questions.

How are you going to survive this?

You get dressed into your outfit for the day mechanically, running through scenarios and options as you do. Maybe you could just get up earlier. Or you could go after your classes for the day. Then again, now that Winter is nearly upon you, it’s started to get dark at 4PM and you’re not keen on walking to or from the pool in the dark…

You’re still mulling it over when you step out of your room, bag hanging off one shoulder and pelt held loosely in one hand.

“Oh, hey!” Steph emerges from her room at the same time, bringing one arm around your shoulders for a sideways hug. “I heard the pool’s out of order.”

How?

She definitely hasn’t been awake long enough to have walked past the pool today, or for Tim to have told her. Then again, someone had to let him in right? Or did he just let himself in? Ugh, are they even trying to hide their identities?

At this point, you feel like you could compile all the weird things they’ve done and tell Tim you know he’s Red Robin without telling him the real reason you know.

“You know, Bruce has a pool.” She announces as you both walk towards the kitchen. “Right, Tim?”

“Huh?” He blinks owlishly at you both, as if his brain is rebooting. “I mean, yeah, I guess.”

“Can you believe he spends all that money hiring someone to come and clean the thing on a regular basis?” She continues, letting go of you so she can start looking through the cupboards to get a start on her own breakfast. “And nobody even uses it!”

“Damian uses it.” Tim cuts in, looking somewhat offended on behalf of his… Whatever Bruce is to him.

“Yeah, like once a month when he decides to work on how long he can hold his breath.”

“Actually he’s been doing laps lately.”

“That’s not the point, Tim.” Steph sighs, shaking some cereal out of the box and into her bowl. “The point is that there’s a perfectly good pool and you have a perfectly good car as well as some perfectly good – albeit undeserved – free time-”

“Hey!”

“Shut it, nepo boy.” She points at him with the milk. “I’m helping you get brownie points with your partner. Car, Manor, Pool, got it?”

Tim looks at you. Then at Steph. Then back at you. He seems about as cognizant of what’s going on as you do, which doesn’t bode well.

What exactly are brownie points anyway? Are you supposed to have some to give to people when they do something nice for you? Because you haven’t been doing that. Yikes, have you been committing a social faux pas this entire time?

“I mean, yeah, if you want.” He says finally, nodding in your direction. “Bruce has been wanting to meet you anyway, and the campus pool’s gonna be out for a while so… I could take you to the Manor to do your laps.”

“That’s…” You trail off, wondering if saying no will somehow be perceived as a slight on Steph and her genius ideas. “Won’t it be a bit of a hassle?”

“Not at all.”

“What about Bruce? Having a stranger using his pool every day-”

“You’re not a stranger.” Tim soothes, stepping forward and taking hold of your arms.

“It’s true,” Steph adds, stirring her cereal in the bowl, “Tim talks about you alllll the time.”

“I talk about you a normal amount.” Tim grumbles, pulling you away from the kitchen. “We’re going to go have breakfast together now.”

He gets you out of your dorm before Steph can reply, letting go of you once the door is shut. “I really am happy to drive you to the Manor for your laps if you want. I promise it won’t be weird, if we go in the afternoon Bruce won’t even be there.”

You still feel weird asking this of him, even if it wasn’t your idea. It feels like a big ask, like you’re intruding on what little free time he has. “I don’t want to impose, you’re always so busy-”

“All the more reason to do it.” He insists, linking his arm with yours as you walk. “I get to spend time with you, and you don’t have to miss out on swimming while the campus pool’s getting fixed up… Sounds like a win to me. I’m almost mad I didn’t think of it.”

“...Okay.”

Sometimes you wonder how Tim has all this time to spend with you.

Not that you’re complaining, it’s just… You’ve been under the impression that he should be busier. You’re not quite sure if CEOs are meant to be trapped in their offices with neverending paperwork and meetings or if they’re always off playing golf somewhere while everybody else works. But really, you’ve always thought that Tim is more responsible and likes to get the job done himself wherever possible.

So it seems weird, then, that he always seems to have free time to spend with you. He’s never, on even one single date, checked his watch or taken a call or told you he can’t stay long because he has a meeting in half an hour. Okay, so maybe some (most) (all) of the night-time or evening dates have been cut short, but you’re pretty sure that’s because of his other job, the one that doesn’t pay the bills.

You try not to comment on it. Somehow it feels like you might offend Tim if you ask him how or indeed why he always has so much free time for you. Will he think you’re suggesting he’s not working hard enough? Or that you don’t appreciate that he’s making time for you?

The thing is, Tim is wholly too observant for everyday life and too curious not to point it out. An unfortunate flaw of dating a vigilante.

Another unfortunate flaw is that he always picks the weirdest places to ask you about these things.

Such as, on this occasion, while you’re both waist-deep in the ocean.

It’s the middle of Winter, but in an oddly Gotham turn of events, the day is sunny and hot. It must be something to do with a supervillain, you think. Tim’s taken full advantage of the situation and invited you to come to the beach with him and meet up with a few of his friends. None of them have arrived yet, but you wish they would hurry up so this line of questioning could end.

“You’re frowning.” He points out, flicking some water at you. “We’re at the beach, your favourite place in the city, and you’re frowning. What’s wrong?”

“I’m allowed to frown.” You reply, flicking some water right back at him. (It’s not as efficient as when you splashed him as a seal, but you’ve got to work with whatever you have.)

He snorts. “I have never seen you frown at the beach.”

Truthfully, the beach would be better if he wasn’t here. But only because you would then be free to put on your pelt and go for an actual swim in the open ocean. You can’t tell him that, of course, because that would involve revealing your secret.

(Even if he knew your secret, it would still hurt his feelings so you couldn’t tell him that either way.)

And that’s not even what you’re frowning about, anyway.

You sigh, studying him for a few long seconds before you decide to just ask. “How do you always have so much time for me?”

“What do you mean?” Now he’s frowning, his head tilting to the right as he tries to parse your words.

“I’m not totally sure what a CEO’s workload is supposed to be but-” You wave a hand at his general being- “I don’t think having entire free days for taking me to the aquarium or the beach is part of it.”

“Oh. That.” Tim replies, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m only a CEO sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Yeah, Bruce asks me to do it sometimes. When he’s…” You can see Tim searching for a non-vigilante, non-reputation-harming word and failing to find anything better than: “Busy. Or injured! You know how he likes those extreme sports. He’s always hurting himself doing those.”

You did not, in fact, know that. You get the feeling it has something to do with Tim being Red Robin, but you don’t want to go too far down that path when there is something far more important and complex right in front of you.

It’s Tim, so it feels weirdly on brand for him, but you’re still not sure how someone can only be a CEO ‘sometimes’. Something of your thought process must show on your face because your boyfriend chuckles, flicking some more water in your direction.

“I know it sounds strange-”

“It is strange.”

And, coming from you, that means a lot. Because you are all too aware of how you are often considered strange, not to mention how your incomplete understanding of humanity means you usually don’t notice when things are strange. But this time? This time you know that this is a fundamentally strange setup.

Tim scoffs. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Huh?

With a confused frown, you glance around. What is he talking about? Or who? You’re pretty sure pot and kettle aren’t human names. So not who then, but at the same time… He was talking like he was introducing people.

When you look back at him, still totally confused, understanding dawns on his face.

“You don’t know that one?” his confusion is all-encompassing. Clearly this was a saying you’re meant to be very familiar with. This is that whole ‘No, Luke, I am your father’ thing all over again, huh? “It’s um… The whole saying is ‘the pot calling the kettle black’, it’s used when someone makes a comment about another person that could be applied to them, too.”

Oh. That’s… That’s actually pretty useful.

“You said the arrangement I have with Bruce is strange but you’re also kind of strange, so uh…” he shrugs, putting one hand behind his head. “It’s like the pot calling the kettle black when they’re both… Like that… Do you get it? I’m not sure I explained it right-”

It’s your turn to scoff now, and take advantage of his lowered defenses to use both your hands to splash him with far more water than either of you have done up to this point. Tim sputters, turning to you with a look of utter betrayal on his face as the remaining water droplets slide down his hair, face, and body.

You giggle at the sight, he looks kind of like a wet cat that’s just been tossed in the bath.

And it’s funny until he splashes you right back.

When you look at him post-splash, you’re busy blinking and wiping at your face not only to avoid getting pool water in your eyes, but also to try and ward off that inhuman feeling that was threatening to peek through once again. You’re still not sure why Tim’s never asked about it, you’ve heard him say that he’s seen it before. Steph, too.

“You know what you remind me of?” Tim chuckles, shaking his head to get the excess water out of his hair. “That seal that Steph and I found. It splashed us with water too, guess it didn’t like our conversation.”

That’s an… Unfortunate connection for him to make. Does this mean he knows? That it was you all along? Or does he just suspect?

You know that you need to tell him – that you sort of want to tell him – but even so, you’re scared. Will it be worse if he’s figured it out on his own? Maybe you should tell him now, while you still have him to yourself.

And hey, you’re already surrounded by water, what better place to demonstrate?

Someone calls out for Tim, making you both turn to look at the shore where a gaggle of people are standing and waving.

...Or maybe you should wait to do it somewhere you’ll have a little more privacy.

Tim grins, waving at his friends as they get themselves and their belongings situated, entirely unaware of what’s going on in your mind.

When he turns back to you, he grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “For the record, I like that you’re a little strange.”

Before you can reply, you find yourself tugged along behind him as he goes to meet the newcomers at the seashore.

Later.

You’ll tell him later.

It's stupid, really.

How one little slip-up very nearly strands you on land forever.

You bring your pelt everywhere with you. It's what you've been taught to do, one of the rules you live by. You never let it out of your sight.

Usually you just have it tied around your waist or folded up in your arms. Most people don't notice it, likely due to it being somewhat magical. If they do see it, all they see is a nondescript jacket in your favourite colour. Something boring, something they won't latch onto, something they will forget about in seconds. It's a deterrent against petty thievery.

Tonight, you've put it into your bag.

One item too many at a convenience store near campus has you stuffing it into your bag so you have an extra hand. One receipt blowing away in the wind has you distracted and loosening your grip on the straps. One opportunistic thief has you running down the street, chasing after your belongings.

One Richard Grayson has you stopping in your tracks. Not that you know it's him when you first bump into him.

Tim's mentioned his family. You're already friends with Cass (you think), Steph prefers to call herself a family friend. You met Duke once, in passing, though you've been told he's a family friend like Steph.

When Tim talks about his brothers, it's always with varying degrees of a half dozen emotions. When he talks about Bruce it’s even more complicated. On one memorable occasion when you heard him complaining to Steph, he'd called Bruce 'the emotional brick wall' and you're still not entirely sure what that means. He seems pretty expressive in the clips you’ve seen of him online.

Still. You collide with this particular brother. He steadies you, apparently unfazed by you running right into him at high speed. He doesn't even sway.

You hear him ask you something but you're already moving again, shaking his hands off of your shoulders and ducking down the alley you saw the thief turn down. You stop in your tracks, though, when you realise that the alley is completely empty. The thief – and your bag – are nowhere to be found.

The stranger – the speed bump – catches up to you easily. "Are you alright?"

"No." You sigh, shaking your head. "They stole my bag…"

"Sorry to hear it." He says, opening his mouth to say more before something seems to click in his mind.

He stares at you. Squints. Sizes you up. Tilts his head. He's got the kind of stare that Tim, Cass, and Steph all have. It used to make you uncomfortable but now you're used to it. You understand its purpose, and you've figured out that it doesn't mean they've figured you out.

Finally, the stranger snaps his fingers. He says your name, "right? You're Tim's…"

He trails off, waiting for you to fill in the gap.

You don't.

You've been dating Tim for a while now, yes, but you aren't really sure that either of you have thought much about labelling it. Not beyond the nebulous idea that he's yours and you are his. Underneath the waves, that's more than enough.

"You're dating Tim." The stranger says after a long, awkward pause, having no idea what else to say. "I'm his older brother, Dick. It's nice to finally meet you."

You'd probably be happier to meet him under different circumstances. As it is, you've just been robbed and need to find a way home now. It does not, for even a second, occur to you to ask Tim's brother for help.

Luckily, it occurs to Dick to offer it.

"Do you need a ride? I can drive you back to your dorm, you live with Steph, right?" He offers, pulling some car keys out of his pocket. "Once we get there we can get started on cancelling all your cards and stuff. Was there anything else of value in that bag? Other than your phone and your wallet?"

You mull it over, reaching down for the spot on your waist where your pelt usually is. "Not really, though I guess my textbooks are kind of expens-"

Oh.

Oh no.

Your pelt. Your pelt is in that bag. Your pelt is... Gone.

"No..." You breathe, stumbling towards the nearest wall as you look down to where it should be. Not there, it's not there! "No, no, no, no…"

"What? What is it?" Dick asks, frowning with concern as you press your back to the wall. "What's missing?"

You can't tell him. You don't even know him. You can't tell anyone.

But your pelt is gone and suddenly you feel dizzy. Tears well up in your eyes as you realise you're stuck here. On land. In human form. Never to return to the ocean again, at least, not in the way you want to.

Trapped up here. Trapped in this skin.

Trapped.

You cover your face with your hands as you sob, the terror and misery overtaking you faster than any emotion has ever hit you in your life.

The one thing you are meant to do. The one thing you should have protected with your life. And it's just gone. You're stuck here now, forever, and you don't know what you're going to do.

Dick hovers nearby, not entirely sure what to do about your sudden meltdown. That's fine, you don't want him trying to comfort you.

You don't want platitudes or soothing words or awkward pats on the back from somebody who is essentially a stranger.

You just want-

Tim.

You forgot about Tim.

Steph, Cass.

Your skate lessons, movie nights, marathons of TV shows you've never seen before and sometimes don't fully understand.

The café down by the beach where everyone who works there knows your name and your order.

The shop downtown that sells and rents scuba diving equipment, where the assistant manager takes beautiful pictures of underwater life and gives you copies of the best ones.

The friends you made at the skate park when you went there by yourself to practice what Tim had shown you so you could surprise him at your next lesson.

Tim's neighbour, who let you hide on her boat when Tim accidentally left you waiting outside his door for an hour and some creep nearby stared at you just a little too intensely. Her son owns various aquatic creatures as pets and she occasionally asks for your advice on his behalf.

All these connections and reasons to linger on land. All these people you've forged bonds with. And you'd forgotten about every single one.

The realisation just makes you cry harder.

Because you have things that make you want to stay. People that care about you and things that would make spending the rest of your life on land not just bearable but good. And you still broke down over the thought of being stuck here.

It's a terrible feeling. A weight on your chest, a new source for tears.

And then there's a sound.

The click of a grapple. The quiet but intentional thud of boots hitting concrete.

You don't look up. Somewhere along the line you've slid down the wall and now find yourself sitting on the grimy floor of the alleyway.

Footsteps approach you.

And then a voice: modulated, but you know it's him.

"I saw the thief grab your bag and went after them." Red Robin says from somewhere above you. "I lost them, but I found your bag. It was torn apart, everything of value was taken and the rest got left behind."

You sniffle, wiping your eyes but still not daring to look up.

Part of you is glad it's him. Glad that no other vigilantes have to see you cry. Another part is despairing because it's him. He has to see you crying because you couldn't face the prospect of losing your pelt and being marooned.

Will he know? If you look up right now, will he somehow know that you couldn't bear the thought of being stuck on land permanently? That for one horrible moment he wasn't enough for you?

"Your textbooks were ruined but…"

There's a rustle of fabric, and finally you look up.

Red Robin – Tim? – stands above you, gently holding out your pelt.

You blink at him, your gaze still a little blurred by the tears and your brain still catching up with this little chunk of serendipity. This stroke of good luck, the significance of which he doesn't understand.

Tim has seen your pelt before. He's asked about it. He knows it's important to you, he knows you don't like other people touching it though he doesn't understand why because to him it’s just a jacket you never wear. And now…

Now he's holding it so delicately. So carefully. Reverently. Because it's important to you. Would he have thought to bring it back to you if he didn't know that it held some significance?

Slowly, you reach out and take it from him, making sure your fingers brush against his as you do. He doesn't react as far as you can see but you know he feels something when you do it, even if you can't see any indication of it on his face.

Once your pelt is back in your possession you hug it close to you, your fingers clutching it so hard they hurt. But the pain is fine, it's welcome in the face of the events of the evening.

"Thank you." You breathe, voice shaking as you give him a watery smile.

"Do you..." Red Robin clears his throat, it sounds weird through the modulation. "I can take you home, if you want."

"No need." Dick takes this moment to remind you both of his presence and shakes his car keys. "This one's dating my little brother. I'll get 'em home safe."

For a while, the two just stare at each other.

If Dick was anybody else, you have no doubt that Tim would fight on this point. Would insist on taking you home himself, even if the need to then go home and change into normal clothes before he came back kept him away from you longer.

But this time it's his brother. The one he looks up to most, you think. And that's why he finally nods and leaves you be. But not before he asks for your name so someone called Oracle can cancel all your cards and brick your phone for you. Something about letting you rest as soon as you get home and leaving the remaining admin until morning. You don't think he would have done that for any random stranger on the street.

Dick takes you home.

He fills the silence throughout the drive with surface level questions about you. And talking about how he's never been to Steph's place, but he's been meaning to stop by for a while. How there was a short period of time where they actually hung out a lot but ever since he went back to Bludhaven they just haven't managed to keep in touch all that well. Then he flips back to questions about you. It's dizzying how easily he jumps between all the topics.

Finally, you trudge up to the door. Before you can even think about putting the key in the lock, Steph flings the door open and pulls you into her arms.

"Oh, good, you're safe!" She mumbles, holding you tightly to her. "You're not hurt, are you?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine."

"Really?" She asks, pulling away just far enough that she can see your face. Whatever she finds makes her frown. "Dick said you had a meltdown, I thought he was exaggerating-"

"Hey!" He huffs indignantly.

"-But you look like you've really been crying." She studies you a moment longer, squeezing your shoulders before she pulls you inside. "Are you sure you're fine?"

You just nod this time, too tired to keep repeating the same phrase. Red Robin had already double-checked before he left. Dick asked twice in the car and once on the way here from the carpark.

You're still clutching your pelt, not daring to let it go for even a second after your ordeal. Steph... Notices. Dick does too, based on the look they exchange when they think you're not looking.

You shiver. Just a little bit. But it's enough.

Steph reaches out for your pelt, thinking it's just a normal jacket. "Why don't you put that on? It's kind of cold outside…"

"No!" You cry, stumbling away from her and holding your pelt to your chest.

Normally your reaction to someone trying to touch it would be more subdued. But tonight you are tired and you came so close to losing it and... Someone has already touched it. Two someones, in fact, and that's more than enough for you. It’s too much, really.

So you pull away like Steph burned you and your gaze darts between the two people in the room with barely hidden fear.

You cannot tell them what you are.

You cannot let them touch your pelt.

After a few tense moments you excuse yourself with the flimsy reasoning of wanting to change into your pyjamas. They let you go, probably because your most recent outburst has them worried and they can't talk about you while you're still in the room.

Once the door is shut behind you, a weight falls off of your shoulders. And you finally allow yourself to let go of your pelt, if only to put it into a box that you hide among some others underneath your bed.

You try not to listen to the little voice in your mind asking what would happen if Steph came into your room and rummaged around looking for your pelt. She wouldn't do that, would she? A flash of guilt runs through you as you change your clothes. Of course she wouldn't. How could you think that of her?

Tired. You're just tired. And frightened. A little shaken up from your close call earlier, that's all. Your head will be clearer after a good night's sleep.

Before long, your hand is hovering over the doorknob. You don't want to go back out there. But if you don't, they'll probably come in here. A sound on the other side convinces you to just get it over with, and you exit your room just in time for Tim to stumble into the main area.

He looks at you, his eyes widening as he takes a hesitant step towards you and reaches out a hand. You close the gap, throwing yourself into his arms and holding onto him tightly. There's a quiet gasp from him before he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back soothingly. For a moment, everything is still.

It's just you and Tim. Just his arms around you. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes; a little more exaggeratedly than usual, which is weird until you realise he's trying to get you to breathe with him. The familiar scents of eucalyptus and the faintest hint of the ocean that lingers with him whenever he leaves his home.

You have to tell him what you are. Soon.

In fact, you decide to do just that right now until Dick clears his throat and the rest of the room comes back into focus.

"I'd better get going, got some stuff to do for a co-worker." He says, his footsteps moving somewhere behind you as he walks past. A hand gently rests on your shoulder for a second as he says your name, "it was nice meeting you, though I wish it had been under better circumstances."

Your only reply is an agreeing hum, which makes Tim and Steph chuckle. Once the door shuts behind Dick, you carefully pull away from Tim. Just a little. You don't let go of him, not just yet.

"Okay, I'm going to bed." Steph lets out an exaggerated yawn. "Remember that these walls are thin so no funny business."

Tim instantly flushes with embarrassment, grabbing a small cushion from the couch and half-heartedly chucking it at her. "Shut up, Steph."

She laughs, easily ducking the pillow as she makes her way to her bedroom and bids you both goodnight.

You go to bed as well. Tim has a drawer in your room with spare clothes and a little plastic case full of toiletries that he already knows the location of, so the two of you move through your respective bedtime routines in relative silence.

When all is (not) said and done, you find yourself under the covers with Tim curled up beside you. One of his arms is wrapped around you and his other hand rests on your waist, his fingers tracing nonsense shapes on your skin with a featherlight touch.

Sleep eludes you for obvious reasons. It seems to elude Tim as well, because he doesn't stop his ministrations.

"Heard you met Red Robin tonight." He murmurs, nuzzling into your neck. "How was that?"

"It was fine." You breathe, trying not to let slip that you know he didn't have to hear anything because he is Red Robin.

It's kind of cute that he's fishing for something. Not compliments, that's not really his style, but... Maybe he's trying to figure out how you would react if he told you the truth? Trying to gauge how you feel about his alter-ego before he decides to take the plunge into the unknown?

"Just fine?"

"We didn't talk that much."

Tim hums in acknowledgement, pressing a light kiss to your collarbone. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I'm sorry I worried you." You murmur, not really thinking much of it.

That's what people do, right? When they worry the people who care about them?

But Tim stills, his hand pausing in the middle of tracing what you think was meant to be a star. His breath catches in his throat. "What do you mean?"

"You came here for me. Because of me."

"You don't have to apologise for that."

"I worried you."

"I'm always worried about you."

It's your turn for your breath to hitch now.

"Especially," he murmurs, resuming his ministrations, "when my brother frantically texts me out of nowhere... And tells me you broke down crying in an alley."

You're fairly certain Dick absolutely did not do that. He didn't need to.

Instead of replying to the thinly veiled question, you think about all the work Tim puts into keeping his secret from you. From everyone, really.

In comparison, yours is an easy secret to maintain. You just wish you had the courage to tell Tim. He deserves to know, deserves to fully understand you. Hell, he deserves the time and energy he would save if he didn't have to keep doing all these extra little things to keep you in the dark about a secret you already know.

The words rest on the tip of your tongue, but you just can't seem to make your voice work.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Tim presses, voice barely above a whisper.

"Mhm." You rest your hand on top of his.

"You can tell me if you're not." He says, kissing your shoulder this time. "I know it's an everyday occurrence in Gotham but-"

"I really am fine." You insist, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I felt much better as soon as you got here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You pause for a moment, letting out a quiet sigh as you settle down a little bit more and sleep loosens your lips. "I love you."

Apparently there are words that you've been wanting to say that your brain will allow tonight. You feel him freeze up again, which in turn makes you freeze too. Have you messed up? Is it too soon?

"You don't have to say it back." You continue, powering through despite your worries. "I just needed to say it, is all."

It's not the only thing you need to say to him but... One bombshell at a time.

But this is just as important to say. Because it's been hovering on the edge of your mind for a little while now, some foggy feeling that you couldn't quite put a name to until-

Until you were sat in that alleyway, crying over your missing pelt, and you realised that maybe things would be alright, because you still had him.

He sucks in a breath, finishes the star he was tracing on your waist.

"Seriously, Tim." You continue, squeezing his hand again. "I don't need you to say it out loud to know."

Because you do know. He cut his night short to come here and see you after what happened. There are undoubtedly people he could be helping right now but he came here for you instead.

He keeps your favourite snacks in his cupboards and he tracked down an identical copy of your favourite mug so you could drink from it at his place as well as your own.

He's figured out the exact look you get on your face when you don't understand a reference someone is making. And he always explains it but doesn't question how there can be so many gaps in your knowledge.

He loves you, he just can't quite say it yet. And that’s fine. You’re surprised you managed to say it.

"...Thanks." Tim breathes, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You hum quietly in response, snuggling closer to him as you close your eyes and fall asleep.

The pool at Wayne Manor is nice. Really nice. Too nice, actually. You can hardly believe that it just sits there and nobody uses it.

The campus pool has long since been fixed now but Tim hasn’t stopped driving you to the Manor to use the pool there. Well, he sort of has.

He’s not doing it on a daily basis now, but he still does it a couple times a week and the pool is so nice that you choose not to ask him to stop. It’s definitely not because you think it’s cute when you emerge from the pool and he seems to lose all sense of propriety and also language for a few seconds.

So far, your visits have rarely resulted in a meeting with an errant family member. Dick was here with a couple of his friends once, Damian sometimes comes home from school early and runs into you on your way out. Otherwise, you and Tim get some blissful alone time, even if you spend most of it swimming back and forth while he catches up on some paperwork or something. You’ve never asked about what he’s looking at, and you get the feeling that he’d lie if you did.

Today, though… Today there are other cars out front when you arrive.

“Bruce has some business associates over.” Tim explains, parking in his usual spot. “They won’t be anywhere near the pool, don’t worry. They probably won’t even notice we’re here.”

Except they do, and Tim gets called inside to say hello. He usually goes inside for a few minutes when you first arrive, so this isn’t much of a deviation from the routine. But when you go to separate from him and head to the pool, his grip on you tightens and he shoots you a pleading look. Okay, so he wants you to come with him for this one. That’s… That’s fine, you suppose.

You can totally do this. Tim is Red Robin and he hasn’t figured out your secret, so it’s not like any of the business associates of a billionaire will get anywhere close. You have nothing to worry about! (But your heartbeat still speeds up a little at the prospect of meeting so many strangers.)

It seems easy enough. Bruce himself is conversing with another man in a suit by the staircase, they both seem to be in a serious discussion so they don’t notice your presence. Maybe you can still get by without meeting him just yet.

A beautiful, tall woman with black hair stops Tim and asks him how Cassie is. She shoots you a kind smile before she resumes her trek across the room to talk to a couple of blond guys, one of whom waves at Tim but doesn’t approach. You had no idea your boyfriend was so popular with Bruce’s associates, but you suppose it makes sense considering his job. If he is occasionally the CEO of Bruce’s company, then that means these people are occasionally his business associates too.

There are a handful of other people around, some in suits or dresses, some not. You feel a little less self-conscious about the baggy clothes covering your swimsuit now that you’ve seen the less formally attired people. You can totally do this, everyone seems nice, and Tim’s almost done with saying hello to people, so you can-

Holy. Shit.

That’s the king of Atlantis.

What the hell is the king of Atlantis doing in Bruce Wayne’s house?

You stop dead in your tracks when you spot him. Tim stops with you, his brow furrowing as he tries to figure out your reaction.

“Are you okay?” He asks, drawing attention from the very man you didn’t want to turn around.

If the king of Atlantis sees you, you’re toast. He’ll know immediately what you are. If he’s friends with Bruce, he’ll probably say something about it. He has no way of knowing you’re hiding this, so he’s going to say something and you won’t even be able to be mad about it-

He makes eye contact with you.

Tim’s still saying things, but you’re just watching your doom slowly approach until he’s standing near enough to be acknowledged.

You feel something squeeze your hand and it snaps you out of your terror just enough that you can actually make out what’s going on around you.

Tim’s introducing you. To Arthur Curry.

You’re screwed. You’re so screwed. This isn’t how you wanted your secret to come out. You should have told Tim earlier. Should have should have should have-

“I take ‘em up here to do laps a couple times a week.” Tim finishes explaining, earning a knowing smile from the man who holds your fate in his hands.

“Don’t let me impede you.” Arthur says, sparing you another look.

“I need to talk to Bruce,” Tim takes you by the shoulders and turns you around, pointing you in the direction of another door, “it’s a straight shot to the pool that way, why don’t you go get started?”

“I’ll take you.” A big hand rests on your shoulder. “I could use some air, and I know the way.”

“Thank you.” You barely manage to stammer the words out, letting the king of Atlantis lead you outside.

He didn’t say anything. He’s still not saying anything. He leads you outside. Why hasn’t he said anything?

He takes you right to the poolside before he says a single word. “I won’t mention it.”

You can only nod, feeling that familiar itch, that awful feeling that makes you want to crawl out of your skin. You’re grateful to him, of course, but you’re still too shaken to really voice that gratitude just yet.

He sighs, a deep, bone-weary thing. “I am glad to see that you’re thriving, though.”

“What…?” You look up at him, swallowing as you try to find any words at all. “What do you mean?”

“It’s rare to see a Selkie spend so much time in human form.” He explains, studying you carefully. “But you seem to have found a balance. Much like your parents did.”

At that, you find some of your courage. “You knew them?”

“They lived in Atlantis for a time.” Arthur answers, looking down at the pool. “You were born there, I believe.”

You… Didn’t know that, actually. At your surprised expression, the king of Atlantis chuckles.

“May I offer you a bit of advice?”

“Of course.”

It would be rude to refuse advice from a king, wouldn’t it?

“I can’t say I’ve interacted with him a lot, but from the way Bruce talks about him… Tim’s a good man. He won’t begrudge you for your secret, or for keeping it from him.” Arthur finally says, his gaze fixed firmly on the pool. “The entire family are good people. You couldn’t trust your secret with a better group, if that’s what you want.”

Before you can come up with any sort of reply, Arthur Curry turns and walks away. You watch him go, and keep watching where he used to be for a few long minutes before you remember that Tim will emerge any minute now. If he sees you still standing here, shell-shocked from your close call, he might start asking questions that you don’t yet want to answer.

You really need to tell him. But not now, not here.

There are so many people around right now, and he’s the only person you want to tell. At least for now. The thought of telling just Tim is nauseating enough without adding anyone else to the mix.

You’ll tell him. Soon.

Hopefully.

In a stroke of nostalgic coincidence, you surface for air and find yourself looking directly at Red Robin.

Or rather, looking at Tim.

No Spoiler – Steph – this time. Just Tim, sitting alone on the edge of the docks with his feet dangling just above the water.

For a moment, you are both still.

You because you’re suddenly staring at him for the first time in days and him – presumably – because he’s once again found himself in the presence of a seal that really shouldn’t be here.

He tilts his head. You tilt yours, mimicking his movement almost perfectly. And it would have been perfect mimicry if you’d been in your human form.

Tim looks miserable. You can’t see his eyes but you can see the slump in his shoulders, the slight furrow to his brows before they disappear under his mask, the even slighter downturn of his lips.

Maybe running away and disappearing into the water wasn’t the best idea after everything. But you’d just wanted so badly to crawl out of your own skin, to return to the ocean where everything is a whole lot simpler. It had been a gut reaction, an instinct that you just couldn’t suppress no matter how hard you tried.

How long have you been gone? Days, probably. You’re normally better at keeping track of time under the water, but this time had been different. This time, you hadn’t been thinking, just doing.

And now you’re staring directly at the consequences of your impulsive decision. Your boyfriend, staring out at the water and wondering where you’ve gone. Worrying about you. Has he even slept since you disappeared?

“You really do look like Spoiler’s roommate, you know?” He sighs, breaking the standoff. “She was right, it’s those big, wet eyes of yours.”

You blink slowly, floating a little closer and further into the light so he can get a better look.

Should you reveal yourself now? Should you tell him where you’ve been? That you’re alright?

Or will telling your secret now only make things worse?

The argument was rough. Heated. You both said things that were fuelled more by heightened emotions than actual thoughts. And then you ran away.

Maybe you won’t tell him now. Later, when he’s done being Red Robin and he’s back on his house-boat. You can sit on his couch and apologise and you can tell him where you’ve been. What you are.

Instead, you look around. There are steps nearby, leading down from the dock and onto a concrete slab that’s mere centimetres above the water. You swim over to it, hopping up onto the ground.

Tim watches you go, getting up to follow once he realises where you’re headed.

You look up at him, he looks down at you. After a few moments of hesitation, he sits down near you, legs crossed and his head resting in one hand as he studies you.

“You’re really not meant to be here.” He mutters, tracking your movements as you rather ungracefully approach him. “How did a harp seal get all the way out here? Actually, a better question is why a harp seal keeps coming back.”

You poke his leg with your nose, letting out a quiet warble. To him, the action is meaningless. To you… Well, it’s an answer to his question, isn’t it?

His lips quirk upwards just slightly. Nobody can resist a cute, friendly seal, no matter how baffled they are by its presence. “Friendly tonight, aren’t you? What happened to all the attitude you had last time?”

The difference this time is that now you know who’s under the mask. And you know that he’s sad.

You huff, tilting your head away from him in a decidedly human gesture. Somehow, he just doesn’t pick up on it.

You get the feeling that the day he finds out your secret he’ll be wondering how he didn’t connect the dots sooner. Actually, you’re a little surprised that he isn’t connecting your disappearances as a human with your presence as a seal. Then again, this is only the second time you’ve encountered each other like this.

Instead, he sighs again. “I really messed up this time.”

In an attempt to comfort him, you rest your head on his leg.

Tim stares at you for a few seconds, trying to process, before he eventually decides to just go with it and rests one hand on top of your head.

“I threw my twenty-step plan out the window and asked Spoiler’s roommate out.” He explains quietly. “It was going really great until I put my foot in it. We had an argument a few days ago and I haven’t seem them since.”

You warble again, shifting so more of your head rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, even though you’re actively dripping water onto his suit.

“They just… Left. Without their phone, keys, wallet… Everything.” Tim pauses, his breath shuddering. “Disappeared without a trace. I’ve got just about every vigilante in Gotham on the lookout but-”

He cuts himself off, shaking his head. You poke his stomach with your nose this time, earning a breathless chuckle from him.

“Nosy little seal, aren’t you?” He murmurs, patting your head a couple of times. “The others aren’t saying it but I can tell what they’re all thinking. This kind of disappearance never ends well in Gotham. I think… I think I’m the only one who’s not looking for a body.”

You lift your head with a startled noise, really looking at Tim this time. He thinks you might be dead. No wonder he’s out here by the docks, staring at the water like it might give him some answers.

You could reveal yourself right now. Put him out of his misery, apologise for disappearing on him.

But what if somebody else saw? You turn your head to look out into the surrounding shadows, not seeing anything but still not certain that your worries are unfounded. Revealing yourself right now could spell disaster, for both of you.

But you do have to tell Tim your secret. Tonight.

“What am I doing?” He mutters, tipping his head back to look at the sky. “I’m baring my soul to a seal. Nice going, Red Robin.”

You settle your head back down on his leg, closing your eyes as you soak in his presence. You’ve really missed him over the past few days, but it hasn’t hit you until just now. His hand rests on the back of your neck, not moving but still providing comfort and – presumably – taking comfort from your presence.

After a couple of minutes, Tim shifts. You open your eyes and watch as he puts a hand to his ear, listening to something.

“Yeah, Oracle, I know. I just wasn’t ready to go home yet.” He says, tipping his head to the side as he keeps listening. “Uh-huh. I’ll do one more swing around the block and then turn in, I promise.”

You shift, moving off of his leg so he won’t have to push you away to get up. After a few more seconds, he bids Oracle goodnight and turns to look at you again.

“I’ve got to go home before Oracle snitches and sends Nightwing to force me to get some rest.” Tim mutters, gently booping your nose. “You should go home, too. Wherever that is.”

And then he’s on his feet and disappearing into the night. Once you’re sure that he’s gone, you slip into the water, swimming towards Tim’s boat.

You’re a fast swimmer and you aren’t exactly far away from it, so you’ll have more than enough time to get there before he does. Yes, you could wait until after he gets home before approaching him, but is there really much point to that? Once he finds out you’re a selkie he’ll realise you’ve already figured out his secret identity anyway.

When you get close enough, you remove your pelt in a nearby alcove out of sight. For a moment you just stand there, blinking as your now human eyes adjust to the complete lack of light. Jeez, it’s really dark out here tonight.

You stumble with your first few steps, unused to having legs again after so long, but you figure yourself out quickly. The lights are not on when you get to the boat, and your knock goes unanswered. Not that you expected him to get back so quickly, but it’s worth checking just in case he surprises you – and he usually does surprise you. (It’s your turn, this time, to do the surprising)

With a quiet sigh you pick a spot on the edge of the boat and sit, dangling your feet over the water just as Tim was doing earlier by the docks. And you wait.

Time goes by. You aren’t sure how much.

You clutch your pelt to your chest, some deeply ingrained instinct to keep it safe screaming at you while you sit out in the open with it. As if someone might emerge from the shadows and steal it from you.

You shiver a little. Tim was right, you hadn’t brought anything with you when you left, and now you’re feeling the consequences of not having a jacket. The air hadn’t seemed all that cold in your seal form, though you suppose that seals are built to withstand colder temperatures than humans. That particular aspect has not leeched into your human form.

Figures.

You pretend not to hear the near-silent thud of Tim’s boots on the deck; a sound that wouldn’t have happened at all if he hadn’t been surprised by your presence. You don’t look up at any of the other quiet noises either, just let him do whatever he thinks he needs to do to keep his identity a secret. This is hardly the first time you’ve turned a blind eye to all of this, but it will be the last.

Finally, you hear actual footsteps on the ground nearby, steadily approaching you and stopping just short of actually boarding the boat.

This time, you look up.

Tim’s dishevelled. His clothes are a mess – he’s not really dressed for the weather either – and his hair is even messier. Still windswept, though he seems to have at least tried to tame it into something less conspicuous.

His eyes are wide as he takes you in, cold and miserable and sitting on his boat like you haven’t just reappeared after days of radio silence and no physical traces of your presence to be found. When he says your name he sounds relieved, if a little confused.

For some reason, he’s not mad.

“You’re back…” He breathes, taking a step towards you but not closing the gap any further.

You stand up, all the words you wanted to say catch in your throat under the weight of his gaze. You have to say something, you know, but you just can’t seem to make your voice work.

All you can manage is one, tiny little syllable: “Tim…”

That one little word is all it takes, all he needs. And he closes the distance between the two of you far too quickly for a normal guy, though if you didn’t already know his secret you probably wouldn’t have questioned it this time. Not when his arms wrap around you, pulling you tightly against him as if he thinks you’ll disappear again if he lets go.

You hug him back, holding on just as tightly. Hoping against hope that this isn’t the last time he’ll let you do this. If it is, you’re certainly going to make it count.

The two of you stay like that for a long time. Soon enough, the steadily disappearing warmth leaves you both shivering in the cold night air; neither of you are dressed for this particular weather and Tim regretfully pulls away. But only enough that he can open up the door and let you both into his abode.

(You pretend not to notice that it was already unlocked.)

Once you’re inside he lets go of you properly, but only so he can go rummaging around for something. He finds it easily enough, and turns to you with an arm outstretched.

“Here.” He murmurs, eyes not leaving your face. “You’re still wearing the same clothes as when you left.”

It’s the pair of pyjamas you left here. You gently take them from him, trying not to think too hard about how he said left instead of disappeared.

Your clothes are fine. They’re just as clean as they were when you first put on your pelt all those days ago, but you’ll change out of them anyway. If he asks you to leave once everything is out in the open it won’t matter what clothes you’re wearing because you’ll just put on your pelt again and return to the water. Maybe forever.

You pause in the doorway of the bathroom, your gaze lingering on Tim as he watches you go. “I’ll be quick.”

He nods at your promise, swallowing thickly as you shut the door behind you.

Your shower is quick. They usually are, you’re not a huge fan of them. It’s water, yes, but not in any sort of way that scratches the itch. You change your clothes, walking out to find Tim sitting on his couch hastily typing something on his phone. He’s changed too, and presumably turned up the heating because it’s warmer in here now than it was before.

He looks up at the sound of the door opening, relief shining in his eyes when you emerge.

You’re still clutching your pelt, and his gaze flits down to it then back up to your face with a raised brow. To him, it’s just a fuzzy jacket in your favourite colour that you noticeably did not wear despite the cold outside. To you, it’s everything. Your lifeline. In the wrong hands, it can be your prison.

Not Tim’s hands though. He’ll keep you safe, assuming he still wants you when all is said and done. Then again, when the king of Atlantis himself tells you that you can trust someone, you really should listen, right?

Tim holds up his arm in silent invitation. It’s all you need to slide in beside him, snuggling into his side and letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder. You close your eyes, choosing not to look at his phone even as he continues typing for a couple more minutes.

“Okay.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Steph’s glad you’re alright. She’s also kind of pissed. I called in a few favours so that she doesn’t come storming over here tonight to chew you out for disappearing like that. She might show up early tomorrow morning though, I couldn’t get her to elaborate on that point.”

“I’m sorry.” You breathe, opening your eyes just in time to see Tim placing his phone on the side table.

“Where did you go?” He asks, tilting your chin up so that he can look at you better.

“I…” You pause, not sure if you can make yourself say it.

You’ve spent your whole life protecting this secret of yours. The words rest on the tip of your tongue and you need to say them but you’re still terrified of the consequences.

But maybe you don’t have to say them.

You reluctantly wriggle out from under his arm, shaking out your pelt as you prepare yourself to put it back on. “It’s easier if I show you.”

Tim tilts his head, eyeing your pelt again. He’s seen it a few times, usually while you’re in the process of hiding it away somewhere. He’s only ever touched it once, as Red Robin, and the one time he nearly touched it as Tim Drake you’d snatched it away from him so quickly even he’d been surprised.

You take in a deep, steadying breath, and put on your pelt.

To you, the transition is instant. A smooth transformation from one form to the other. To Tim… You’re not entirely sure what happens in the human brain when it witnesses something like this. From what you’ve been told, the brain skips a few frames, makes it all kind of fuzzy. This is just something that it can’t quite comprehend.

Soon enough, he’s blinking away the residual confusion and looking around the room with a startled expression. You warble to get his attention, and the surprised gasp he lets out when he looks down and finds you is rather endearing, actually.

He crouches down, studying you closely for a few agonisingly long moments. “A harp seal…”

You blink at him, waiting for what he’ll do next.

Tim blinks back, tilting his head as he puts the pieces together in his mind. “The harp seal!”

You poke him with your nose, which makes him smile just a bit.

“Those big, wet eyes…” He shakes his head, his grin widening. “It’s been you all along, hasn’t it?”

Relief washes over you. He doesn’t seem upset, more… Amazed? Curious? Happy?

“I had a feeling that jacket of yours wasn’t as ordinary as it looked, I just never had proof.” Tim murmurs, his gaze sweeping over you as he thinks. “Do you think you can…?”

He gestures vaguely, unsure of how to word what he’s even looking at. You nervously shift your weight between your front flippers, not totally understanding the movement.

“I just think it’ll be easier to talk if you can, you know…” He trails off, tilting his head to the side. “Talk.”

Oh. Right. You’re so used to him talking to you in this form that you kind of forgot you can’t talk back. He always seemed to instinctively know what you were saying, though you suppose you’ve never had to say anything complex before now.

You take off your pelt and find yourself now standing over Tim, who is once again blinking away the after-effects of watching something his brain can’t quite comprehend. He stands up quickly, staring at you with wonder and adoration shining in his eyes.

“That was…” He breathes, shaking his head. “You’re…”

And then, for just a moment, that light in his eyes seems to dim. He frowns, not in anger but in understanding, as if he’s just worked something out.

“You’ve known I’m Red Robin the whole time, haven’t you?” He asks, his tone indecipherable.

You don’t think he’s happy. But you’re not sure what else he could be feeling right now. Your anxiety spikes, jumping to the worst possible conclusion: He’s mad at you.

Even though you don’t want to, don’t really need to, you nod. The tiniest nod, yes, but a nod all the same. An admittance of your guilt. You steel yourself for the inevitable, for him to get mad and kick you out, except-

Except Tim’s not mad.

“I love you.” The words seem to tumble out of his mouth, unable to stay hidden any longer. “I’ve wanted to say it for a while, I just… I didn’t want to tell you before I told you I was Red Robin but that doesn’t matter now so… I love you. And that hasn’t changed now that I know you’re a…”

“A selkie.” You provide the answer to his unspoken question, all your anxiety replaced with this floaty warmth and security.

He loves you. And he doesn’t care that you’re not human. Or, apparently, that you’ve known he was Red Robin this entire time.

“A selkie…” Tim breathes, shaking his head with this adorably smitten look on his face. “That is just so cool.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Of course he’d say it was cool. It’s just so very Tim, you can’t imagine what else he could have said on the matter in that moment.

But the moment of levity and warmth cannot last forever.

Because, for the second time tonight, Tim’s expression falls. “You scared the hell out of me.”

And you can’t help but shrink into yourself a little at his words. This conversation, it seems, is not going to be that easy. You always knew it wouldn’t be, but that still doesn’t change how awful it feels.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, not knowing what else to do.

“I wasn’t just scared that I’d never be able to find you.” He continues, squeezing your shoulders just a little tighter. “I was scared that I’d find-”

When Tim cuts himself off, looking down at the floor rather than you, his voice cracks and you know exactly what he was scared he would find.

He takes in a breath. Lets it out again, somewhat shakily. When he looks up again, his eyes are glassy but determined. “We need to figure something out. I don’t want to drive myself crazy looking for you all over the city if you’re just swimming in the ocean, perfectly safe.”

“Okay.” You agree, wracking your brain for something your parents told you that could help. Other selkies must surely have encountered similar problems before.

“Conversely, I don’t want to think you’re safe and fine in the ocean only to find out that you actually were taken or something.”

“Okay.”

Tim sighs, letting his grip loosen and his shoulders relax. A second later, he pulls you in and hugs you close. “Please don’t disappear like that again.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him. “I was just-”

“You were upset, I get it. I was too.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, just taking in your presence. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what I said. It was out of line.”

It feels like the only thing you’ve done tonight is apologise, but nonetheless: “I’m sorry too.”

A comfortable silence settles over you both; apparently Tim’s returned to his desire to just hold you instead of talking. You’re more than okay with that, but you know the conversation isn’t exactly over yet.

It’s when he muffles a yawn that you take matters into your own hands and try to disentangle yourself from him. Key word: try.

“Tim.” You mutter when he pulls you back towards him with a strength you’re sure he’s all too pleased to not have to hide anymore. “It’s late.”

He makes an affirmative noise, but still doesn’t let you go.

You sigh, moving one hand up to play with his hair. “We should get some sleep.”

He’s tired – he must be, if he’s been searching for you every night for all this time. You’re tired too, though more from emotion than physical action. Either way, sleep is something you really want right now.

And Tim, who told you he once fell asleep on a rollercoaster, hears you say that magical phrase and actually lets go of you. Mostly. And only until you’re lying beside him in bed, which is when he reinstates your earlier closeness without preamble.

You both still have a lot to talk about, but for now you’re content to let it wait until morning.

Later. You can talk about it later.

Thank you for reading!

This part initially took me exactly a year to finish and post, hopefully the other two parts I have plans for don't take that long!