Name: Birth of Red
Rating: PG 13
Author Notes: Liked these two and somehow they came together in my head. Also apologies for the slightly out of character of Jason at this point, chalk it up to artistic flexibility. Hope you enjoy
10. After Bruce died and Dick took Robin from him, Tim tried to kill himself on three separate occasions. The third time, Red Hood caught him and beat some sense into him. From then on, Tim didn't try to kill himself again and Jason and Tim were on okay terms.
116. When Tim reached his apartment after confronting Dick about choosing Damian as Robin, he found a mysterious package containing all the materials he later used to make his first Red Robin costume, including the insignia. Tim always assumed Dick sent it as an apology and wondered why it was never brought up between him. The package had actually been sent by Jason.
Tim lay on the roof looking up at the sky. His head was pounding and he was pretty sure that a rib was broken. It was surprising that his neck wasn't broken, "Well maybe surprising it's the word seeing as he stopped me," Tim thought to himself. The world has stopped spinning, Tim sits up and looks across the terrace. Tim can't help the, there he sits, body armor traded for a pair of jeans and a long black thermal since it's winter, his black hair whips with the wind and the domino is nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe I'm confused half-pint; you live in a penthouse that most would kill for, you have more money than most of Gotham put together, you have a family that would stand in front of a bullet for you, yet you just purposely pretended to be drunk and fall off the balcony."
"How do you know that I'm not drunk Jason," Tim asks standing up and going into the penthouse. "Because I was there tonight Timmy, I know you tossed each glass of champagne into a plant and picked up a new one to make it look like you were drinking a lot." Jason answers. Tim sighs, how had he missed his quasi-brother at the Wayne Foundation function. "Because you were too busy plotting your own demise," a voice says in his head. He's irritated that it sounds so much like Damien Wayne., the demon that stole his place.
"So what's got the little birdie so down that he has decided to off himself," Jason says in a cruel voice. "I'm sorry," Tim whispers. "Say that again replacement," Jason knows Tim said something but couldn't hear it. "I'm sorry, I so sorry, I didn't understand, couldn't understand, the hate, I get it now, I wish I didn't, but I get it." Jason can hear Tim's voice breaking. "Whoa, whoa, whoa; what are you talking about Replacement?" Jason says standing up from where he had been leaning against the wall. "Replacement," Tim laughs, "I should start calling Damien that." It's then it must have clicked for Jason. "Dick chose Damien, you're no longer Robin." Jason says to himself. This wasn't supposed to be how it goes. Jason's not supposed to feel sorry for the kid. But now he gets it. That pain Tim feels, the feel of not being good enough, smart enough, fast enough. The feeling of being replaced with a better model; Jason's hand balled up in a fist. He swallowed down; first he had to shock the kid into not doing something stupid.
"So you got replaced, so you know what it feels like now. Your answer is to off yourself? How many times? How many times have you tried and failed?" Jason yelled picking up a paper weight and throwing it at Tim. Tim quickly ducks, "How many times?" Jason yells. "Three!" Tim cries trying to avoid the next thing chunked at him. "Dick interrupted the first one, I didn't take enough the second time, and then you…" Tim admitted. He felt Jason grip the collar of his jacket. "You replaced me, I felt like dying all over kid but you know what? I didn't I dealt with you every day. I found power in my anger. Now dig deep, find whatever it takes to keep going, but I swear to Bruce. You off yourself kid I'll not only erase you from the Robin history, I'll throw you in the pit and make you watch everyone live happily ever after without you." Jason hissed throwing Tim into a wall before storming off. Tim laid there crumpled and then something sparked in Tim, anger, not at Jason. No his anger wasn't with Jason. It was at everything else. Tim stood and grabbed his keys, his bike would get him there faster but Tim was going as Tim Drake, and he was ready to rip Dick Grayson a new one.
"DICK!" Tim yelled as he walked in the door of Wayne Manor. "Master Timothy," Alfred started coming out of the kitchen. "Where is he Alfred? DICK!" Tim yelled. "Tim?" Richard "Dick" Grayson walked out of what used to be Bruce's office when he was alive and Dick never saw it coming. The swift right hook to his jaw or the kick to the stomach that had him sprawled on the ground. "I gave everything to Robin. My body, my mind, my family, everything, I have nothing left to give to him except my life. But you can't have that. I won't give that up because I'm better than that and it took fucking Jason Todd to make me realize that. So take your damn demon spawn, and try to play daddy to him Dick. But don't you dare call me when things blow up in your face! Cause me and you, Dick. We're through. You've taken everything from me, you, and the Robin, but no more. Now I make the rules to my life." Tim yelled.
Dick looked up from the ground dumb struck. His jaw throbbed and his ribs ached. "Tim, he needs," Dick started, "Screw you Dick. What he needs is therapy. What he needs is Bruce. Not to be given an opportunity to kill again. This is going to blow up all over you Dick and I'm not cleaning it up." Tim said and spun around leaving the manor knowing it would be a long time before he went back.
After a week Tim found himself back in his penthouse. He sighed dropping the bag on the ground. He'd gone and stayed with Mia and the Queens in Star City. It had been a nice break. Ollie had kept the bat cracks to a minimum and Dinah had listened to him for hours. She helped him figure out what he was gonna do. He'd been going to school to appease Bruce's need for normality, not anymore, he'd schedule the G.E.D. and get out of school, and he hated it there. Then he was taking his share of Wayne Enterprises, specifically the Wayne Foundation, it has always kind of been his now he really wanted to run it. Also he'd attend classes at Gotham University with the goal of three bachelors, two masters, a M.D. , and PhD. But first he had to find his new identity and find Bruce Wayne, he wasn't dead, Tim knew it and he would prove it to everyone. It was then a box caught his eye.
There was nothing extraordinary about the box, it was brown and cardboard, it sat on his coffee table, with a card, on the top. The envelope was white, no writing, on the inside was an index card that simply read, "For making your own rules, Red." "Dick," Tim breathed as he pulled out some pieces; Tim's mind began spinning on how to put them together. At the bottom was a black and gold emblem. "Red," Tim muttered, "Red Robin." Pulling out his cell phone Tim quickly text Dick, "Thanks, Red Robin."
On the terrace Jason hung off the edge. He knew that Tim would assume Dick was the one that gave him the costume, but to Jason that didn't matter. As long as the kid kept fighting that's all that mattered to Jason.