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I'm really tired

Chapter Text

Sometimes he would like this to be a dream.
Sometimes he wouldn't want disappointment to be an integral part of his life.
But things never go the way they want.
As a child he had learned not to expect anything from anyone, his parents offered him few things to celebrate, but you can't understand what you are missing if you never had it.
Remember everything in your life, more like a car than a person.
The flying Graysons who died, the first time Robin appeared, the birth of Nightwing, the death of Jason.
He felt guilty though, the death of his favorite Robin had given him something to do in life.
Before that his life was not very valuable, he was not afraid to put it at risk on Gotham's nights but later, but after all it changed.
Nothing was easy in the beginning.
Bruce did not want it with him, Dick was not really a great support because of his big quarrels with Bruce.
The only help was Afred.
But when you care a lot, all that can happen next is to be disappointed with it.
He may have engaged more than the others but he cannot deny the distance between himself and others.
When Damian arrived, when Bruce died, it was obvious that Dick would choose Damian and not him.
He had always noticed differences in treatment between himself and others, especially with the newcomer.
Even Alfred, who was the most political, had allowed Damian to keep animals at home when he was always denied the house.
His relationships with others had worsened when Dick called him crazy, when Bruce had clarified his contempt for when Damian said he was brought to kill.
The only one with whom the relationship had improved was Jason.
He had discovered that the person who once wanted him dead was actually someone much better.
Who thought they were denying him the right to see it?
He was a mature person and able to decide with whom to talk and no.
They were nobody to choose for him, they were the ones to thank him for every time he saved his ass.
Instead it all ended with Tim being treated like a kid who didn't understand anything about life, not the guy who understood Batman's identity at nine.
They also quarreled that night.
they screamed until they had no voice.
He was tired of all this.
"I'm not part of everything anymore"
It was all he said before leaving his brooch and walking away from the cave.
For once he didn't want to be the one who forgave everyone, he wanted to take his position and get away from everything that defined him.
If Bruce had his system to make Wayne Manor burn so hard that no evidence was left, Tim had a lot of money with which he could buy lots of gasoline and matches.
No one would look for him saying he needed time to calm down, but that time he used it in another way.
Drake Manor was a very old house, he had always hated it because of his squeaks and the fact that he had almost always lived there.
The floor, the walls, and every thing in gasoline would have burned and burned very well.
As soon as he was finished he sat in the living room to observe the large painting of his parents.
There were not many questions asked, not at that time, at that moment he wanted to be just a man of facts.
He took the matches from his pocket with a pack of cigarettes.
He lit a cigarette while his lungs filled with the smell of gasoline.
All he did was throw the match on the picture of his gentiles, also soaked in gasoline.
The stationary stopped to watch the painting slowly become black while the rest of the mansion began to burn.
At that moment he burned everything that bound him to the past and he was happy about it.

Chapter Text

Tim remembers exactly the last conversation he had with Jason.
"You shouldn't be so close to me as a replacement"
His face said nothing as he spoke those words.
Tim instead wanted to burst into tears but all he did was stay in the mobile and look at the man in front of him.
"Why?"
Why are you doing this to me, what's wrong with me?
None of these words came out of his mouth.
"We are too many different people replacing. I would take you to the hell that is my life"
Those words, those damn words had the same meaning as what Bruce said.
Jason was the usual subject who got himself into trouble in every possible situation, but for Tim it was more than that.
It was something that not even Jason himself admitted to be.
Tim said nothing and all he did was run away.
He had always run but at that moment he seemed so liberating.
Everything that happened after Jason discovered it later.
He couldn't believe that the replacement was gone and he didn't think he was the right person to try to stop him, so he wasn't there to stop him from burning his own house.
Ten years have passed.
No one knows if Tim lives but not.
Kon was the first to astound that Tim's heartbeat was not changed while all that was happening then was told. He worried when he no longer felt the heart of his Rob. All the research I did with the other heroes were useless and every time I thought they were close to something all proved vain. Now Jason walked, walked on what was once Drake Manor and thinks, hopes, hopes that the one who thought for a moment how his Timbo is still alive to make a living. He put out the cigarette under his foot to walk towards the manor.
He had promised Alfred that he would be there with them while they remembered the tenth anniversary of the disappearance.
The older man had made it clear that he preferred his presence with them in the bar drinking, a much healthier solution.
Bruce's solution and his copy in whining was to be with Kriptonians.
As much as everyone would like Kon to attend these "meetings", the boy who was now becoming a man always refused to be with the Titans, Tim's second family.
No one understood why he had not gone to them and done what he had done, but no one could be in his head.
When Jason came into the house there was an insolent silence to be a place full of people, but the silence didn't last when curses were said, surely by Damian.
When he went to see what was happening everything he saw was all gathered to watch TV.
It took him a moment to figure out what was wrong but then he read the news that he had left everyone stunned.
"Timothy Drake, the boy believed dead for so long has sent messages to all television stations advising of his return"
"Bastard"
"Language"
Damian's tone was obviously full of anger while Bruce's was calm but equally shocked.
The only thing that Jason could think of was the casino that would happen shortly thereafter.

Chapter Text

This is not a chapter. I just wanted to know in the comments who you prefer between Slade Wilson or Roman Sionis. I will make a decision based on comments next Saturday ^^

Chapter Text

The music filled the whole room, the sound was almost exceeded by the amount of voices that spoke in the place.
Damian found himself observing the people who circled around him and filled the huge, almost well-fed room.
He doesn't really know how his father manages to stay calm and calm during these holidays but he doesn't think he can do like him.
All those people were there for a reason, his own motive.
See Drake.
He had disappeared for years, no news, no clue, no one knew anything about him yet his company was flourishing in those years having his instructions.
Instructions that nobody knew where they came from.
He took a glass from a waiter.
he was almost twenty-four now and no one could deny him the right to do it, not that he loved doing it.
All this was stupid in his opinion, he didn't really know more than half of the people if not for data.
He wanted this to end and for people to stop masquerade parties.
Seriously, who was so old-fashioned?
Above all, why so many parties if the only novelty was the new creation of Drake manor?
Stupid, stupid and stupid.
Right now he wanted to beat Drake for this unnecessary stress and to have run away from them for years.
The only problem was that he couldn't find it among all these people.
He looked towards his father who was talking to various people and discussing his happiness in the fact that Drake had returned.
Speech towards but false expression, his father was not good at expressing happiness.
He was surprised when someone forcefully opened the front door of the room.
Many men came in well armed and one of them shot towards the ceiling.
What was not surprised were the subsequent screams of some women and some men cursing.
So waited.
The men wore the masks of Sionis.
He didn't really know why Drake bored with black mask but he didn't see any of those men as a threat.
"Give us Drake and no one will get hurt"
Damian wanted so much to get close and beat those stupid blood.
All he could do was try to pull one of the women off his arm and try to see where his father was.
Acting among all these people who could but not act would have been even more stupid.
The men had decided that the best thing to do was split up to find drake first.
Had they never seen a Horror movie?
You could consider Gotham as an environment of the typical Horror movies so uaguali or very silimi laws were in force:
- Never break up
- Don't go where you can't see
- Don't go towards strange noises
- Always look over your shoulder
But the most important rule was
- If you're into something very well known and dangerous, you're screwed.
When he finally managed to pull his arm away, from what was more like a vise than a slight squeeze by a woman, he walked among the people without being seen to grab one of the criminals.
All he found was a man on the ground.
He looked around not seeing anyone familiar.
He tried slowly among the people but no criminal in sight.
Someone got on the table.
A man, had long black hair gathered in a tail and laid on his shoulder, a large burn covered his entire cheek and was dressed in a tuxedo and a blue mask but he could clearly see his blue eyes.
Drake.
"Everyone be calm, the danger has been neutralized. Soon the police will be here. Please still be my guests"
The smile on Drake's face was arrogant while his voice was perfect for empathizing cheer.
Yes, he really wanted to fill Drake's face with fists.

Chapter Text

Roman's anger was only comparable to the inability of his men to do something as trivial as killing a single person.
He threw the first thing that came into his hand, making his secretary jump.
He put his hand on his mask and sighed.
"I am surrounded by inept people"
He couldn't let that Drake brat win and get in his way.
And at that moment the right thought came to mind.
If he could not rely on those inept of his men he would have relied on someone more professional, whatever the cost.
////
Tim was walking around his apartment as he turned a stick between his fingers.
All he was thinking about was that Sionis had moved against him and that meant he saw it as a threat.
He didn't know whether to see this as a bad thing or as a small personal satisfaction.
It was months that he worked with his company to eliminate the drug that the man had set up in the city he believed was his.
Thz, Tim wouldn't have let this come under his nose.
He had traveled so much around the world that he had done everything he had been unable to do before, but he didn't want to see his city destroyed.
He didn't want to be like Jason though.
The man had always had good ideals to fix the low funds where he had always lived.
His only real problem was the methods he used to get to the results, which were too violent.
He had always preferred more accurate and mono-violent methods, though he knew how to fight in many ways and had beaten men with much greater muscle masses than his own.
But this was not the important thing now.
He knew that soon a member of the bats would come to visit him, he didn't know who though.
Alfred? with his disappointment at seeing him with tattoos on him?
Dick? To tell him that he was the one with the long hair and that he was now slightly jealous?
The man could never remain serious.
Or maybe damian, to tell him how disappointing it is for the whole family.
A family he had never felt connected to.
Why did he have to feel full of duties towards them?
No, he didn't have to.
O ..... Jason.
He didn't really know what he would say, what would Jason ever say to him?
He made it clear that he wanted him not to be too close.
Yet a small part of him wanted the man to hold him with his strong arms, I wanted to feel safe surrounded by the other man's body ...
No, he had to eliminate that desire.
Now he was another person, a freer person, without ties that would have damaged him but ..
He had always thought that what he had done was bullshit but also the right thing.
Sometimes he wanted to hear Kon call him his Robin.
But it hurt sometimes because he wasn't robin anymore.
He wanted to hear Roy call him Timbo but he would remind him of the missions he had with him and Jason.
He wanted Dick to call him a little brother.
For what?
To remind him that he had been replaced?
To remember that Dick had thought him crazy?
He against all the heroes who thought him crazy in thinking that Bruce was still alive.
Honestly, he never regretted doing what he did.
It was just the first step in understanding that it didn't have to be what the others wanted but had to rebel.
He gave a small sigh before replacing the stick with a full glass of grape juice.
Someone who looked old could look like wine but Tim didn't like alcohol.
He walked slowly to the large window that allowed him to see the whole city from above.
Something caught his attention.
A strong light seemed to come.
A moment and a wave of energy followed by a kick hit him in the chest, throwing him to the other side of the room, breaking some furniture.
Ouch.
When Tim looked at the attacker he saw Slade.
Damnation.
At times he did not understand why the rooms were full of weapons attached to the walls, but at that moment he thought that the amount of weapons hanging on the wall was very useful.
He jumps up to throw the wall against the wall.
On the wall there were two blades attached with a chain, scimitars, a katana, katara and daggers.
He took the katana and threw himself at the man with anger and a will to live.
Slade was certainly not a newbie and this was certainly not his first battle.
He managed to hit Tim with a sword with his sword.
Panting the youngest lay on the ground with the least possible number of damages.
An unknown number of hermit guards rushed in and then shoot the mercenary who kills them without effort.
"Black Mask sends his greetings"
Without saying anything else he threw himself from the palace sprendo and leaving Tim to the ground.
"Sionis has to be taken really badly for paying him"
He sighed and then looked at the ceiling.
How would he explain this?
He really doesn't know.