Chapter Text
Tim was perched on a gargoyle, taking in the view. Gotham was looking surprisingly good tonight. The clouds that usually filled the sky had dissipated, making it hard for the GCPD to use the Batsignal (patent pending). Despite that, the streets were quiet tonight. The signal really wasn’t needed. For the first time in a long while the good weather and a lull in villainy synced up.
Tim was about to get on the comms to mess around with family, when he heard a very distinct distress call over his communicator. It was the call that Bruce only ever tested when everyone was home. It was honestly pretty innocuous compared to the other alerts. All it was was a little four note song Bruce heard in some movie. But the newer meaning it had was bone chilling. It meant Bruce’s heart had stopped.
There was a burst of sound on the comms as soon as it started. Dick was panicking, Jason yelling something about how this wasn’t a funny prank, Steph and Duke saying they hadn’t seen Bruce for a while, what if something was actually wrong. Tim didn’t say a thing. He was too busy running for the nearest vehicle he could use. He ended up calling for the RedBird, hoping it would get there soon enough. A thousand terrible thoughts ran through his head as Oracle got on the comms system.
“I have B’s location, currently projecting it to your masks. Red Robin and Black Bat are closest,” Oracle paused for a moment. “But if neither of you can bring yourselves to-” Cass cut her off.
“We will go.” She was so good at holding it together. Tim could barely breathe right now, let alone speak. The Redbird pulled up abruptly right as he started thinking of just running there. To where Bruce was. Tim was so scared as he wove in and out of the sparse traffic, through alleyways and side roads, Oracles maps guiding him to certain disaster. Cass was about 3 minutes behind him, probably running across rooftops. She really didn’t have a set vehicle, so she usually roof hopped. This time though, Tim worried she might regret it. He knew he would if it was him. As he got closer to the little red map dot on his GPS, he realized where he was going. He was heading right where it all started.
Why oh why was Bruce in Crime Alley tonight Tim thought. He hoped he would be able to ask Bruce what happened. He feared he never will. Tim had already lost Bruce once. A second time might kill him. Bruce was the only parent he had now, after Jack and Janet died. Bruce was a big part of keeping Tim together in the aftermath of both of their deaths. And now… Tim didn’t know how to act.
He finally reached the old theater, and jumped off his bike. He ran for the alleyway as fast as he could, but the sight that greeted him stopped him as soon as he rounded the corner.
Bruce was lying there in a puddle of blood. His blood. Not breathing. Tim couldn’t move, couldn’t look at this. Oracle was saying something in his ear, probably seeing he had made it to the scene of the crime. He couldn’t hear anything, could barely see. All he could do was look up at the clear sky, and try not to smell the bloody odor filling the alley. He wasn’t sure when Cass had gotten there, but she immediately went to Bruce’s side. She was taking in the situation, thinking objectively. Trying to save their dad.
Tim finally made himself move. One step after another until he reached their side. He sat down, not sure what to do. Cass paused for a moment, handing Tim a plastic baggy with a note inside. The note was covered in messy handwriting, and splattered with blood. Tim knew Cass could barely read at the best of times, and this was a pretty bad time. He tried to decipher the message, but only got to the first sentence, ‘im so sorry it was,’ before he felt a hand on his shoulder.
How long had he been sitting there? Whose hand was that? Before he had time to flip out, the hands grabbed him under his armpits and pulled him away from Bruce. Cass wasn’t there anymore. How long had he been reading that one line? He twisted around to see who was holding him, half expecting it to be Dick. Instead it was Superman. Clark. He must have heard the alarm, and flown here. He wasn’t looking at Tim, instead looking at the body of his friend. His best friend.
The next few hours were a blur. The police made an appearance, at least to say they had tried to investigate. Superman left, then the police did too. The family put Bruce in a bodybag, and laid him in the back of the Batmobile as gently as they could. The ride home was so quiet. Jason was driving Tim, Steph, and Damian in Dick’s shitty little patrol car with the overly tinted windows. He gripped the wheel as hard as he could, just trying to get home. He didn’t say a single word, and no one else tried to speak either. At least they weren’t in the Batmobile with Dick, who was spiraling on the phone with Kori. And a body in the back.
Tim had no idea how Cass and Duke were getting home, if they were even going there. Maybe they’ll stay with Babs. Tim knew he didn’t really want to go back to the manor and face Alfred, but he had been the first to the scene. He had to make the report before he could fall back into numbness. He looked at his hands, to see if they had blood on them, when he realized he was still holding the note that had been on his body. It was crumpled now, and even less legible than it had been before he’d held it like a lifeline.
Now he unfolded it, slowly and carefully. The note said, ‘im so sorry it was accident im just a hand for hire i never wanted to hurt anyone i thought he was immortal i thought he was unkillable im leaving gotham now i cant face you all but i wanted you to know im sorry.’
It had no signature. No names at all. It was just an apology that Tim could never accept, and never understand. Why oh why was Bruce in Crime Alley tonight. He would never know.