Alone [A Timothy Drake oneshot]

Alone

Tim was alone.

He sat on the roof of an abandoned school that had yet to be demolished, playing with the batarang in his hand, spinning it like how one would spin a pen.

He sat down, doing what he did best. Thinking. He sighed, a million thoughts whirring through his intelligent mind as he sat in silence. With the return of Jason, his life wasn't exactly the best. Jason hated him with a passion, and often taunted him, expressing his hatred for the third Robin in numerous ways.

Then there was Damian. Tim had no idea what he did that had offended Damian, but the moment he tried to say hello, Damian acted like a spoiled brat and gave him a glare worthy of his father. He didn't understand why they hated him. They didn't act that way to Bruce, Alfred, Barbara or Dick, (Well Jason did. But he was Jason.) and he was the only one they seemed to dislike. Why? What did he ever do?

Dick was asked to train Damian, which left him with little to no time to spend with Tim. Barbara was often elsewhere, and Bruce...
Whenever Bruce looked at Damian, he looked Happy. He'd never look as happy when he was with Tim, that was for sure. He just did what he always did. He brooded. Dick could testify that it had been the same for him too. But for Damian?

Tim didn't miss the smile on Batman's face as he looked at his son with pride. It made him wonder why his own father never looked at him like that. It made him wonder why his adopted father never looked proud of what he'd accomplished. He longed for somebody, anybody to look at him with pride in their eyes. The most anybody ever did was make him feel comfortable and happy, and then strip him off his short lived happiness by doing what everybody else did. They left him.

When Tim first came to the batcave, he'd just lost his mother, and had found out the identity of Batman and Robin. Two face had kidnapped him, and he was traumatised by the torture he'd gone through. He was just eight years old, and although the incident happened nearly seven years ago, the events were still fresh in his mind.

He lived in the manor, often having nightmares about his mother's death and about his kidnapping. Bruce or Dick would often be by his side, comforting him and telling him everything was going to be alright, that they'd never leave him. But now, he was neglected. By his brothers, his adopted father. And no, he was not attention seeking, yet he felt as if nobody wanted him. Nobody cared.

Where was his father to tell him things would be alright when his mom died? He went off to another country, burying himself in his work because of the guilt, while distancing himself from his son, and in the end getting himself killed by Two Face.

Tim couldn't even name one person who stuck with him through thick and thin his whole life. Where was Batman when he beat himself over feeling stupid and worthless, not being able to do anything right, and feeling like a failure at life? Where was Nightwing when he felt replaced, abandoned, and lost, just like he was years ago? What happened to the promises made, the bonds formed and the laughter, tears, times good and bad? They faded away. Forgotten.

He was the sweet, shy one. The one giving people the least trouble. Even so, he was still tossed aside like a broken toy that couldn't be used anymore. He was so lost in his self doubts, his fears of being alone. People always looked to him as a hero, somebody they could depend on to save them, but people forgot that even heroes need saving sometimes.

Nobody cared about him. Why should they? He was just a pawn in the game of life, replaceable. Why did everyone need him anymore? Gotham had Nightwing, Batman, Batgirl, Red Hood and a new Robin. Tim was pretty sure that he'd eventually be asked to step down from his position of Robin. Why would Batman let anyone take the place of his son when the position was right there?

He should just make things easier for everybody. He had no purpose, his only skill was being street smart. Nobody cared unless you were famous, good looking, or popular. He bet nobody would blink an eye if he just died right there and then. They'd just get Damian to replace him. Wouldn't they be happier without him ruining their lives? Batman would be happier to have one less person to take care of on the field, and Nightwing would be less troubled by the amount of people he needed to take care of.

Tim Drake stood up. He wasn't important. He didn't deserve to be here. In this uniform. Not one bit. So it didn't matter what happened to him. He just hoped they had a good life after he was gone. without hesitation, he took a step forward.

Happy

Falling

Tears

Regret

Peace

The Robin spread his wings and flew, and in a few seconds, it was over. Nobody heard the thump as he fell onto the pavement, smiling slightly as his eyes gazed at the dark sky.

A/N: Well that was dark. So I'm in a Robin stage now, well a Tim Drake stage, because I saw Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker and my heart just broke when Tim was turned into Joker Junior. Like wow. I swear I nearly cried. How could they do that to a little boy ;-; So I started reading, and watching, and thought about how Tim's angst was similar to mine (I won't go into detail but let's just say that most of what Tim thought was my own thoughts ._.) So yep. I actually think I may be depressed because does a regular person contemplate suicide and rant about their feelings on a book explaining my feelings through another character? No. I hope nobody I know reads this. I'm perfectly sane I swear. But expect more dark fics because I am a sad emo teenager. I'm making one more Tim Drake, One Dick Grayson and one Bart Allen. Hooray for Angst. Hooray for not updating my regular books. I am horrible at time management. And life in particular.