Chapter Text
“I am The Crimpson King and you will bow to my power!”
<he’s just using some basic spell work, isn’t he?> Tim’s been to this rodeo before, a bad guy who boasts power but doesn’t do much else for the first hour of his so-called ‘reign’ is full of hot air.
Yep, Gotham pops the P.
“Well,” he says aloud, “time to kick some ass?” Batman gives a short nod and dives off the roof, Spoiler and Red Robin following close behind.
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While the ‘Crimpson King’ was mostly full of hot air, that doesn't mean all his spells were fake.
It’s just as King is being taken away that he flings one last spell at the closest Bat, it just so happened to be Red Robin. Batman steals him away to a rooftop for a moment to interrogate the fake- Bruce wants to know what the hell his son was just hit with if he’s hurt not even god can spare that you- and the sorcerer admits that he doesn’t know exactly. but he knew spell wasn’t inherently dangerous, so it won’t hurt Red Robin. Unsatisfied, Batman knocks the man out and unceremoniously drops him to the ground in front of the police, without his spell book he’s useless.
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On the way back to the cave, Gotham is strangely quiet as Bruce asks Red Robin some classic magic questions, ‘are you hurt? Does anything feel different? Can you still speak other languages? What movie did we watch this weekend? Are you compelled to tell the truth?’ etc. the answers being, no, no, yes, Matrix, and no. All of which were the truth and all good answers as far as everyone was concerned when it comes to magic.
Bruce had already messaged Zatana so by the time they got to the cave she was already there with Alfred, waiting to check Tim over. They make small talk while Tim makes his way to the Batcomputer chair, waiting for the others to arrive. Everyone does soon enough and the ones not there in person- Babs (at the clock tower), Steph (at her dorm), Cass (overseas again), and Dick (Bludhaven)- were watching from the monitor.
“You know the drill,” Zatanna starts, “Sit back, relax, and this is gonna feel weird. Wohs em eht tahw si cigam.” Tim feels a warming sensation start at his head and end at his feet, “huh.” that doesn't sound good.
“What does ‘huh’ mean?” Jason asks from the extra chair he had pulled over to sit by Tim.
“It means this is strange.”
“What is?” Bruce says, impatient, he wants to make sure Tim is safe.
“Basically? It’s a spirit block spell.”
Wait, spirit? No. No, she can't- < G?> no answer. <G please, this isn’t funny.> no. Nonono. It’s too quiet without Gotham! Not her! Please!
“Very basic, simple, and easily destroyed.” Tim internally sighs in relief, he just has to get the block removed and he’ll be able to have Gotham back again, “it doesn’t even remove the spirit from the person, just stops them from communicating with it.”
“So Tim isn’t in danger?” Dick asks.
“No, not at all.”
“Then what's strange, stop speaking in riddles Zatara.” Tim would coo over Damian's worried tone if he wasn't panicking so much.
“The spell was completed.”
“And?” Jason's getting impatient.
“If there’s no spirit, the spell would have canceled, not completed.” the cave was silent for a moment before-
“Wait- so that means-”
“Tim had a spirit in him?!”
“How-”
“Who-”
“Tim.” at Bruce’s voice everyone fell silent, “Tim, did you know about this?” Tim could lie to Batman, Tim could lie to any vigilante on the planet, hell he's lied to Kryptonians before and got away with it, but Bruce? Bruce isn't Batman, and Tim- he couldn’t lie to his dad, so he looked away. He leaves the lies he had omitted on the floor in front of him, ready to be ripped into, ready for interrogation and mistrust.
But... Bruce sighs instead of going for it, “Thank you Zatanna.”
“No problem,” Zatanna is respectfully quiet as she gathers her things to leave, just as she gets ready to teleport away Tim calls out.
“How do I get rid of the block?”
“You.. want to get rid of the block.” Tim meets Zatannas eyes as she turns.
“Yes.”
“Tim-” Tim doesn’t let Bruce finish his sentence.
“I want her back.” He ignores the shock of the people around him.
Zatanna looks apprehensive before speaking, “You’ll have to break it yourself, but the spirit will have to be reaching back.”
“She will be.”
Zatanna nods uncertainly before speaking, “ekat em emoh.”
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The cave stayed in tense silence for a few moments after Zantannas's departure before Dick began hesitantly, “Tim?”
Tim debates on answering, then sighs, he’s an adult, he can handle this, “Yes?”
Dick seems to choose his question carefully, “how long has it been there.”
<ah, so we’re going down this road, lovely.> “Since I-” Tim stops.
“Since what Timothy.” Barbra is not happy.
<fuck it.> He’s hidden long enough, if they want to know everything, he’ll tell them, he loves them and he trusts them. Just- It’s the first time he’s ever told anyone, “Since I first died.”
“What?” oh god- oh fuck- Damian sounds broken, Tim won’t keep it together if the others can’t.
Tim just swallows and lets it sink in.
“Tim,” <Bruce please don’t sound like that, you’re killing me here.> fuck, Tim’s about to cry, “When?”
Tim sniffles, “I was eleven.”
“God Tim, why didn’t you tell us?” Dick sounds like he is crying and Tim would look at the screen but he can’t look up from where he’s picking at his nails or he’s going to start crying. He doesn’t need to answer that question because they all know the answer to it, how on god’s earth do you tell your family you hear voices in your head? That you only started hearing them after you died? What on God's earth would they think?
“What’s it called.” at that Tim does lookup.
“What?”
“What’s its name?” Duke asks again.
“I-” god how does he answer that… “give me a second.” Priorities, separate important information and see what parts he can tell them. Problem there. He needs Gotham to do that- barrier, he needs to break the barrier between him and Gotham, now how does he do that. The easiest way would be to die, but Tim doesn’t want to go through that again, so he won’t. So how does he.. “Break, of course.”
“Tim?”
“I need to break it, how do you break something? You throw things at it. Duh, god I’m an idiot sometimes.”
“Timothy, what are you talking about?” Damian, Tim turns to him.
“I need to break the barrier if I’m ever going to speak to her, so, I’m going to throw things at the glass in my living room doorway.”
“Uh, hey Tim, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Not my actual living room Steph, the one in my head.”
“Like that makes it better?!” Tim’s about to shut himself in his head to go break the glass when-
“Timothy Jackson, if you even try to do something without explaining it first, I will ground you for life.” Ugh, Bruce, whyyyyy? He was just getting excited.
“I’m giving you a basic explanation so keep up with me- don’t say a word!” Tim cuts himself off when he sees Jason open his mouth, “Don’t ask questions. Here we go, I live in my body with a ‘spirit’" she's not a spirit thank you. She's an entity, there's a difference. Most people don't know that though. "She’s my friend and I want her back, the only way to do this is to break the barrier in my head that’s separating me from her. I’m going to do that by throwing thoughts, memories, and whatever else I find at it. When it breaks I will explain everything with said ‘spirit’ so that you can understand.” Tim looks at Bruce, “this is the best way, you have to believe me.”
Bruce stares into his eyes for a moment, “I trust you.”
“Thank you.” Tim closes his eyes leans back in the chair, and gets ready to smash things.
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When he opens them, he’s lying on the floor of a giant but cozy living room, with couches and chairs everywhere and blankets and pillows on the floor. He’s been here a lot of times before, when he wants to get away from the world for a bit, he’d come in here and lounge with Gotham. She was the one to show him how to enter his mind.
Tim stands and looks to the exit of the room. The doorway looked like it led to some sort of, glitch in reality. It was every color at once, and yet none of them at all, it hurt his head to think about it too much, the only important thing about that opening is that it’s the only way Gotham has in and out of his mind. He focused on the see-through barrier in front of it that didn’t belong there, <here goes nothing.>
He started small, little thoughts, his favorite food, color, a favorite quote- he brought them into exitance as whisps of different colors, then compressed them into a small solid ball. Then he got bigger, he thought of people and his memories with them, Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Mom, Dad, Jason, Conner, Bart, Babs, Clark, Damian. He drew them out, the bigger the thoughts, the longer the-wisps, as long as he had two wisps he could make a ball. He kept using little and big thoughts, combining them and turning them into different-sized spheres until he thought he had enough.
When he was done, he picked one up, aimed for the center of the barrier, and threw with as much willpower as he could. It didn’t crack, that was fine, he’d just keep going.
He kept throwing the little mind-ball-things, he didn’t know the proper names, at the barrier, he was about to give up and find another way. He grabbed a medium-sized one and threw it, with all his frustration behind it.
Crack
Tim jolted, the barrier had a spider-web crack beginning. So he kept going. He threw ball after ball until it was almost broken but when he looked again, he realized he couldn’t break all the way through on his side. <so that’s what Zee meant when she said the spirit has to reach back.>
He has to call Gotham, he has to get her to try and reach him , <Gotham!> he waits, nothing Then louder < Gotham! >
He has to reach her, and he has to do it now. He takes a deep breath and screams.
<GOTHAM IF YOU DON’T COME HERE RIGHT NOW I’M NEVER SPEAKING TO YOU AGAIN!>
One.
Two.
Please...
CRACK!
The glass…
CRASH!
Shatters…
Timothy Jackson, if you ever speak to me in that tone of voice again I swear to god!
Tim just laughs.