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CHOICES MADE for Sageness by Megolas
:: Sometimes we can choose the path we follow ::
Gotham is cold and empty now. And Bludhaven is an ill-fitting skin, still loose and unfamiliar. But it was his own choice to come here and take his chances and he's still a flash of colour in the dark here so it's not too strange. And he's not even alone, although there's no cave and no case and nothing to keep him in the dark, apart from his training and the nocturnal habits of the people he's here to remove, not that he would change that either. There's still a vengeful flying rodent, although, not the one that everyone expects. That gives them the element of surprise right now and it's something that Tim is grateful for in his own way. The Bats rely on the shadows and using darkness, much like the people they're there to stop. There's no chance of Superman-esque daytime crime fighter in Tim's future. Unless you count Kon. He has his own town now, in a way. He's spreading his wings and leaving the nest and, it's kind of scary but fitting in the tradition of Robins. He's just not planning to wear a costume that makes him look like a 1970s pimp daddy anytime soon. Or ever. That's one particular Robin thing he won't be doing It's the little things that are the most jarring changes. The streets are different, darker and meaner. They feel young and the criminals are more eager to make their mark here, they have some fear but not enough. He needs to make his mark here, him and Cass. Give them their own fear of The Bat; create some urban legends of his own. He still has to concentrate when he's using the jump lines, there's nothing familiar in the skyline yet but he'll make his own landmarks as the time goes by. He's the only splash of colour in the night sky and he plans for it to stay that way.
:: Sometimes our choices are made for us ::
The idea behind the Titans is a good one. Tim completely understands that it helps to have back-up and a group of people in similar situations to talk to. And sunshine and fresh air and social skills. But when you've been training under a flying rodent of darkness, vengeance and brooding, having that many people around is uncomfortable. So he's, well, he's lurking. Not brooding. In his room with his computer and half an eye on his door because this is the problem with groups of people, they visit. Unexpectedly. Like now. "Kon." Kon inhales audibly and Tim snickers to himself because it just never really gets old. "Heh. You really are a freak. How did you know that it wasn't Bart?" Tim raises an eyebrow. "Because Bart is inherently unable to be quiet. And I can see you in my monitor" Kon snickers and leans against the doorframe. "True. And I've already called you a freak, so, uh, you dork?" "Heh. Any way, he came through earlier to see if I wanted to bungeejump off the tower." "Um. Ok. You didn't say yes, did you?" "Shall I answer that or just glare?" "Uh. Never mind. Stupid question." "Heh. So, is this a social call or..." A towel connects with the back of Tim's head. "Hey!" "I was thinking: You. Me. Gym. Now." "You Tarzan, me Tim." "Hah." And then there's sparring and rough-housing and saving the world. Also, oddly enough, evenings spent watching movies in a really brightly coloured puppy pile because that's how they cope after they've saved the world. Again. Popcorn and movies, the closest thing they have to a supposedly normal life. Robin is just one more splash of colour here.
:: And sometimes, we have no choice at all ::
It's not that Tim ever regrets giving up the chance of a supposed normal life. And it's not like he could ever have one now, even if he wanted one, but it's there in the dark of the cave, that he realises that when the time comes, he will be the one that it all comes down too. When Alfred is gone and Bruce and Dick. Then it'll just be Tim. And the suit. And the bats. In this cave with its dark echoes and memories and the case, this really, says itself with capital letters and suitably gloomy cadences in his head: The Case. Tim has spent hours here at the case. He has lent his forehead against the cold glass and stared at the costume and everything unseen that goes with it. There was a time when he didn't think he could be Robin. Didn't think he could fill the shoes of the boys who'd gone before him, the boys that made the costume a symbol the whole world knew and died for it. He could do it in the end and he's done it, he's kept the splash of colour in the dark of Gotham alive, even though their only memorial is a suit in a case in a cave that no one knows about. Tim doesn't want more cases but the problem is that he knows there will be more. Steph's costume will be here soon, in a glass case of its own. Little splashes of colour in this dank and gloomy cave. Sparks of life snuffed out before their time. He could rant and rave, throw himself against the glass but he won't because he's a Robin too and he understands what drove them to be there. He's said it himself: Batman needs a Robin. And Robin on its own is nothing without a Batman. They're two halves of a coin, no matter how disturbing that may be. And when it comes to the end, he'll be still be there to remember them.
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