"Do you look up all your girlfriends?"
Tim doesn't like the insinuation, but he shoulders on because Barbara's network is far more extensive than his, far more even than the Batcave's, and this is a favour, after all.
Your face is on full display, a shot from your ID, taking up the main screen on Oracle's setup. You don't look very happy.
Your hair is longer than when he met you the other night, and he sees the fading of some sort of dye on the tips of your hair. 20 years old, born and raised in Gotham, there is nothing outstanding about you.
"She's not my girlfriend," he replies as an afterthought, his eyes on the screens. You enrolled in GU last year, took up journalism as a major. Why would a college student live in a warehouse?
Because it has to be a warehouse, why else would it have been called like that in the files?
The incident that led him to your apartment is still something that embarrasses him. A mistake on his part, something that shouldn't have happened.
He keeps going over the details, trying to understand; it was just the criminal of the week, a robbery gone wrong at a jewelry shop, hostages that shouldn't have been there. He had been sneaky, gotten inside before anyone noticed, and released the hostages in record time (which was good, because when they started shooting, Tim was the only one inside). But one of the rogues got on the defensive when they saw he was one of the bats, had gotten a hit on Tim's ear, and broken his comms. Then a shot in the darkness and a sharp pain took over his senses.
Which one was the lesser evil, running away to seek shelter while he was still lucid? Or detaining the rogues but risking further injury?
The final matter came down to "what would Bruce do?"
So Tim had pushed through, managed to knock them out, cuffed them somewhere the police would find them, and left before anyone else could see him.
The sky was raging, as expected of Gotham, when he stepped foot on the rooftops outside. His breathing was ragged, the pain was excruciating and he had left the Red Bird at the cave.
It only crashed down on Tim as the thunder and lightning erupted around him, shivering and in pain. Once the adrenaline left, it hit all at once-
He was alone.
It only took a second for the gears to kick in. He couldn't access the Batcomputer, or call anyone who could help. He could take care of it without them, but where would he go? Leslie's clinic was on the other side of the city, and after retiring it had fallen under new management, would whoever was i charge still treat vigilantes? There were no warehouses around the area either, not ones he remembered anyway, and the longer he thought, the more he started to fear bleeding out in the streets.
What other things did he have access to offline? His suit had prior saves of data, backup files from years prior. Tim accessed them with shaky hands.
As he thought, not many places to go to in the area, but there was somewhere marked as a safe place. Somewhere that wasn't Bruce's but that was listed as Bat equipped. He headed there with desperation clawing at his throat, pain drilling at the back of his eyelids.
But he didn't find what he was expecting. Instead, there was you and a mundane house. Somewhere that looked lived in, rather than a closet stuffed with expensive tech and medical equipment.
He realized too late, that the information was outdated, that he was going to die from a mistake.
Except he didn't. Except you were there.
YOU ARE READING
Unraveling the World | Tim Drake
Fanfiction"He slumps against you now, once everything is set and done, leaning his sweaty forehead against your shoulder. His bangs, wet cold from the rain outside, tickle at your back. You don't think much of it when you settle a hand on his back, nearly cra...
