Chapter Text
“As much as I hate it,” Bruce had set up a shooting range in the Batcave, Jason looked ecstatic as he loaded his signature pistol. Tim stood back watching cautiously as Bruce glance to the targets with human shaped outlines for the kids to aim at, “Jaylad has a point. The lot of you should learn to use a firearm, I must ask you only use them if there is no other choice. If you do have to use them, please fire in a non-vital spot. I shouldn’t have to teach you that”.
Cass glanced to Jason; from what Tim had heard she’d used them a handful of times. Dami and Dick had never touched one before. Steph hadn’t either. Tim never brought his past up.
“Let’s go in age order” Jason held up a revolver, he held it out towards Dick. The barrel pointed to the floor, “Dickie- come on”.
Dick was first up; Jason gave them a quick rundown of the gun. How to reload it and how to click off the safety then a quick demonstration of how to hold and fire it. He placed the gun in Dicks hands. The brown-haired boy was unnerved by the weapon. He handled it like it was fragile. His grip was weak.
The gun was raised, Dick didn’t have a strong grip on it. He was flinching away from the weapon with his eyes almost closed. He pulled the trigger, Dick’s eyes shut as he did. The safety clicked- he never turned it off.
“Fucks sake.” Jason gripped the bridge of his nose, “Open your fucking eyes, tighten your grip. You shouldn’t fear the weapon, fear what happens when you drop it. Click the safety off and do it again”.
Dick shook his head, “Fuck that. I’m good”. Dick placed the weapon down walking away from the standing zone of the shooting range.
Jason groaned, Bruce also looked unimpressed, “Cassie, you’re up. Do you need me to show you?”.
Cass walked up to the table of weapons; her pick was a hunting handgun. It had a lot more recoil compared to the gun Dick wielded. She ignored Jason, she took a solid stance. Holding the gun as if she’d been trained too. Cass narrowed her gaze; she clicked off the safety. She fired two rounds. Both were headshots.
“Dickface- were you watching? That’s what your meant to do” Jason hummed, “Perfect Cassie, you’ve done this before?”.
“A few times” Cass placed down the weapon contently. Bruce walked into the shooting range to change the target sheet.
“Timmy” Jason hummed, “You’re up, I’d recommend the revolver like Dick had”.
Tim took the revolver; he flicked out the cylinder. 5 bullets were in it. He flicked it shut, spinning the barrel as he did so. He pushed back the familiar feeling as he moved to the range. Bruce was just finishing the target as Tim raised the gun.
“Good stance” Jason commented, “Just make sure you brace for the recoil, you look too loose there. It kicks back way more than you’d expect”.
The second after Bruce had moved slightly out of the way Tim fired. It was a perfect headshot. Bruce shot around in horror. It missed him by half a metre, just shy of a headshot, but close enough to count
“What the fuck Drake- are you a mentally insane?”.
Tim lowered the weapon, his eye on the clean shot through the head of the target, “If I was mentally insane, I would’ve missed”.
Oh, but you are. You just got good at hiding it.
“You’re meant to wait till he moves to shoot- fuck sakes” Jason cursed, he gripped the bridge of his nose, “What if you had missed Tim”.
“I don’t miss” Tim corrected him sharply.
Bruce glared at him, “Tim this is the first time you’ve held a gun, first shot is luck”.
Tim raised the gun again, firing without hesitation. A second perfect shot; straight through the heart. Tim let out a scoff, “Still luck?”.
“Wait that shot was more accurate than Cass’s” Jason stared at the target with utter disbelief, “Tim? Did you get taught and not tell us”.
“Something like that”.
Why are you so afraid of them knowing sonny boy.
Tim flicked open the cylinder, he pulled out two of the remaining three bullets. The probability was one in six.
This is my favourite game- we used to be so good at it.
“Russian Roulette?” Tim spun the cylinder shut with a smirk. Jason snatched the gun out of his hand. Tim laughed before heading back over to the couch, “you’re no fucking fun”.
Jason opened the cylinder, the bullet was in the barrel, “You would’ve died Tim”.
“I know” Tim hummed. When you’re as smart and as deceptive as Timothy Drake, you figure out how much you need to spin the cylinder to have the bullet land where you want. He hadn’t always been this precise; just a matter of trial, error, and enough games with people who didn’t walk away.
-----
The silence stretched in the Batcave long after Tim sat down. Jason hadn’t moved from where he stood, staring at the revolver in his hand like it had betrayed him. Cass watched Tim without blinking, her arms crossed and unreadable as always.
Bruce was the first to speak. His voice was low, controlled, but coiled tight like a tripwire. “Everyone out. Now.”
No one argued. Not even Jason, who usually had something sarcastic locked and loaded, just handed Bruce the revolver and left without a word.
Tim stayed on the couch; legs sprawled out like he owned the cave. Tim didn’t bother to look up as the elder man approached him.
“You want to explain that?” Bruce asked.
Tim shrugged mindlessly, “call it muscle memory.”
Bruce’s jaw clenched tightly; he wouldn’t snap, “from where?”
Tim glanced up at him finally; eyes sharper than they had any right to be, “you really want to know?”
Bruce didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
Tim let out a scoff at him, “didn’t think so.”