Tim Drake oneshots

The Assasians Saint (4)

Six months had passed since Bruce Wayne returned from the timestream, and life in Gotham was slowly finding its rhythm again. The Bat-Family was together, rebuilding the bonds that had frayed during Bruce’s absence. But even amidst the return of Gotham’s Dark Knight, there was one secret that no one—except for two people—knew.

Tim Drake and Azruelle had been together for eight months, quietly slipping away into the shadows, far from the eyes of the other heroes. Azruelle, Slade Wilson’s son, had reentered Tim’s life not just as a protector, but as something more. They found solace in each other, in their shared pasts and their private moments stolen away from the chaos of their worlds. Tim had always been cautious, careful to keep their relationship hidden from everyone—he knew how the Bat-Family would react, how Bruce would react. But Azruelle didn’t care.

Azruelle had never cared about what the other heroes thought. To him, Tim was his saint, the only person in the world who mattered. His loyalty, his love, was for Tim and Tim alone. If the others found out? Let them. It wouldn’t change how he felt.

And now, as they sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, the two of them hidden in the shadows, Azruelle glanced over at Tim, who was staring out at the city lights. Tim’s expression was distant, his mind clearly racing. He had been like this ever since Bruce returned. Azruelle could tell that something was weighing on him, though Tim hadn’t said much about it.

“You’re thinking too much,” Azruelle said quietly, his voice breaking through the silence.

Tim looked at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “When am I not?”

Azruelle moved closer, his hand brushing against Tim’s. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough to ground him. “What’s bothering you?”

Tim sighed, leaning back against the cold stone of the rooftop. “Bruce is back. The family’s whole again. But…” He hesitated, his words catching in his throat. “I don’t know how long we can keep this a secret. If they find out about us…”

Azruelle’s expression didn’t change. He was calm, as always, unwavering in the face of whatever storm might come. “Does it matter?”

Tim blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

Azruelle’s eyes were intense, focused solely on him. “Does it matter what they think? Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian—they’re not the ones who matter. You are.”

Tim felt his heart race at Azruelle’s words. It was one of the things he loved about him—Azruelle was direct, honest in a way that cut through all the noise. He didn’t play the same games the rest of them did. But still, the thought of the Bat-Family finding out filled Tim with a certain kind of dread.

“They’ll think I’ve betrayed them,” Tim said quietly. “Especially Bruce. You’re Slade’s son. That’s all they’ll see.”

Azruelle’s jaw clenched slightly at the mention of Slade, but he kept his voice calm. “I’m not Slade. I never have been. I don’t care about him, or what anyone else thinks. The only person I care about is you.”

Tim swallowed, feeling the sincerity in Azruelle’s words. He knew it was true. Azruelle’s devotion to him was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was overwhelming at times, but it also gave Tim a sense of peace, knowing that no matter what, Azruelle would stand by him.

Before Tim could respond, a voice echoed from behind them.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Tim and Azruelle turned sharply to see Dick Grayson—Nightwing—standing on the rooftop, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face. Behind him was Damian, with his ever-present scowl, and Bruce, who was silent, watching them with that familiar, piercing gaze.

Tim’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“How long have you been standing there?” Tim asked, his voice tight.

“Long enough,” Dick said, his tone light, but his eyes serious. “Long enough to figure out what’s going on between you two.”

Damian crossed his arms, glaring at Azruelle. “You’ve been hiding this from us, Drake. From Father.”

Azruelle tensed, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t like Damian’s tone, but before he could speak, Tim stepped forward, his voice firm. “This is my life. My choice.”

Bruce’s gaze remained on Azruelle, his expression unreadable. “You’re Slade’s son,” he said finally, his voice low.

Azruelle met Bruce’s gaze without flinching. “I am.”

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with unspoken words. Bruce’s eyes flicked between Tim and Azruelle, as if piecing together the months of secrecy. Finally, he spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Tim took a deep breath, meeting Bruce’s gaze. “Because I knew how you’d react. I knew you’d see Azruelle as nothing more than Slade’s son. But he’s not Slade. He’s not the enemy.”

Bruce’s eyes softened just slightly, but his voice remained steady. “And you trust him?”

Tim didn’t hesitate. “With my life.”

Azruelle stepped forward, his eyes locked on Bruce’s. “I don’t care about you. Or about them,” he said, gesturing to Dick and Damian. “The only thing that matters to me is Tim. I’ll protect him, no matter what.”

Bruce’s gaze lingered on Azruelle for a moment longer before he finally nodded. “Then prove it.”

Azruelle’s expression didn’t change, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes. “I will.”

As the tension on the rooftop slowly began to dissipate, Tim felt Azruelle’s hand brush against his again, grounding him in the moment. No matter what came next, no matter what challenges they would face, he knew they would face them together.

Because to Azruelle, Tim was his saint. And that was all that mattered.