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elecilaombre · 1 year

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To learn normal from abnormal : Tim is losing his grip on reality and keep letting himself talk aloud about stuff that are normal, right ? Aren’t they bonding ?

“Falling asleep is exactly like some scenes in horror movies. It’s laying down, alone, in a dark room, trying to control your breath, to not be too loud, to fall asleep before something happens. To hear your heartbeat, beating like crazy, pumping as hard as it can, to hear it in your ear, to feel it in your stomach, see it in the corner of your eyeball. It’s hoping it will be fast and trying to ignore all the adrenalin in your veins, the tension in all your muscles. Hoping it will be done quickly because it’s so terrifying.”

Everybody fell silent. Tim had said that without even looking up from his files, like if it was a trivial fact. As if it was normal.

“The fuck replacement ?”

The young man hummed in response, not even paying attention. His eyes were highlighted by dark rings. They seemed at their place on his face. They suddenly made sense.

“Sometimes I don’t know who is talking. Usually I choose who can speak for ourselves. But someday, when we think about it, even if it’s mid-sentences, sometimes we don’t know which one is in control. It’s like in “ And then there were none”, when they all look at each other, the ten only persons on the island, but still someone else’s, an eleven seem to be somewhere, tricking them. It’s exactly that. We ask each other, ‘if it ain’t you either or the others… Who is it?’. It stresses us that sometimes we don’t always notice this other one.”

Cassandra looked weirdly at her brother. She might not know everything, but she knows for sure that those informations are unusual. There shouldn’t be a ‘us’ in her brother, just a singular person, him.

But she doesn’t have time to process all of it, to ask anything, Tim is already onto another subject.

“ They don’t love me, god they don’t even like me. I shouldn’t be living with them. I’m just a stranger here, an odd error. I’m pretty sure I can hear them talk about me in my back all the time. I keep disappointing them, they told me so many times. And I can’t even imagine what horrible things they might say about me behind my back. How much I might disgust them. I’m still not sure if I just shouldn’t run away, disappear from their lives. It would be so much better for them… …. … … Sure Kon, I can sleep at your place if it can reassure you, I’m making my bag and telling Alfred then you can pick me up…”

Damian is in the corridor, listening to Drake, baffled by all the lies he is currently saying to his boyfriend. Since when the Waynes had been trash talking to him ? It’s very unlikely, even Damian wouldn’t do it, so the other couldn’t. They all hold so much respect for the third Robin, for their greatest detective. Maybe they should tell him more often. Because Drake shouldn’t believe those things. For a detective, he could be kind of dense sometimes.

“I feel so empty you know, like if I had been bleeding myself all over the place and there’s just not anymore me left in this body. It’s weird, like if I was just reduced to being an automat, to faking all my action, my emotion. It’s not me, it’s not someone. It’s just reminiscent of what I used to be. There are days when I can put some mask on and they will stick. I will be someone for one day, until the mask slips and there’s nobody actually behind it. And there’s days where none of the masks want to stick, so I have to walk around with everybody seeing how empty I am. Somehow, I prefer the fake facade rather than the second option. Sadly, I don’t have any control over it. I wish so hard to be able to fill this nothing, anything could do the trick, I don’t care. But it won’t work, nothing is enough to fill this emptiness in me. So I just kept being my automatic self. You know, like everyone does…”

Nobody does that. Jason wants to tell him it’s not normal, no one feels like that. But how to turn it without sounding mean. Without triggering Tim who for once said something personal to Jason. That is so wrong, so wrong, he will need to get to the end of this subject. How sad is it to know he isn’t even 20 but already so broken ?

“ You know what is funny ? I can’t even recognize myself in a mirror. Somewhere deep inside my brain we know it’s me, Tim’s face we are seeing. But we also know we don’t remember it looking like that. It seems odd, out of character. Since when our eyes look like that. Do we really have such a tiny waist ? We’re sure we don’t have beauty marks here on our lips… But it is our lips… Like if it’s me, Tim, but in other hands, it's more like a mockery of it, wrong everywhere but kind of close to its original. And each time it’s the same thing, yesterday my eyes seemed too tiny, today too big, tomorrow the right size but wrong color. Never good enough, never alright. I’m tired of being so wrong. it’s us but it’s not us.”

Dick is trying his very best to make his tie look good, next to Tim in the mirror, looking at his younger brother worriedly. Tim looks like Tim for him, a tired version of Tim but that’s his normal with their lifestyle. Nothing seems wrong in his face, or abnormal. But those thoughts are raising so many red flags in Dick’s head. Maybe he should spend a little more time with the other boy, make sure he is alright or if there’s other things that don't sound right.

“ I’m never truly hungry. If I wait enough, hunger goes quickly away and most of the time it turns out I was just bored. So I never know if I should eat or miss it. When was the last time I ate a real meal ? Do I deserve to eat ? Do I really need to ? I used to be fat when I was younger. My parents hated it, hated me, hated my body. They found me disgusting. Now that I’m thinner, I kept wondering if I should eat or not, if it will make me fat to eat now or if it would kill me to miss it. And each time I guess, I always guess wrong. It’s exhausting, you have no idea, I hope it doesn’t do that to you very often.”

Duke didn’t know what to answer. They were eating take-out on a rooftop. And now he was worried Tim was developing or had already developed an eating disorder. He should try to do some research about it, and watch Tim more closely. Even if he already had guessed his relation with food was messed up, it didn’t feel good to be right. So, not knowing how to answer, Duke just offered the rest of his part to Tim.

“ It’s so selfish of me to stay alive. I’m not useful. I’m easily forgettable and replaceable.”

“ Do you remember what I'd just say ? Because I don’t. Most of the time, I have no clue what I’m saying. There are words coming out of my mouth, sentences I thought of, but nothing that my brain did proceed. It sometimes feels like it’s not me who said that ? If I don’t remember things happening ? If I don’t remember being there … Having said those things ? Can I be held accountable for it ? Because, to me, it’s just like it didn’t happen. Words seem to flow from my mouth, but without being asked to, without my permission. Sometimes I even wonder if I say things that I actually think or if it’s just coming from nowhere. It’s not me who’s talking and … Excuse me, what was I saying ?”

Stephanie tried to not show on her features the fear burning inside of her. That was wrong. Since when Tim had lost himself that much ? Did he even register that he confessed that to her ? Does he even mean everything he can tell them ? Are they losing him ?

“ I feel so alone. Even when I’m surrounded by all of them, even when people talk to me, I feel alone. Alone because people don’t really know me and don’t want to know me. Alone because in the end, I’m not even there and it doesn’t matter. I could not be here and nobody would notice ! I’m a ghost. Nobody listened to me, I kept getting ignored. Nobody looks my way anymore. I’m decaying in front of the whole world,, but nobody notices, nobody is truly close to me. Some part of me wants to disappear discreetly, to make my point : nobody will notice I’m not there because it doesn't matter. On the other hand, I’m so afraid to disappear without anybody noticing, nobody to mourn me, as if I never even existed. If nobody noticed me alive or dead, did I even exist ? Or was I truly just a shadow ?”

Bruce swallows dryly, hidden in the corridor, listening to Tim behind his half open door. The young man is talking sadly, while pacing back and forth in his room. His phone is on speaker, abandoned on his bed and the person on the other end of the line just hums a little “ Whatever Timothy”, proving his point. Nobody seems to listen to him truly. Bruce believes Tim's eyes start to shine in the dimly lit room, shine from unshed tears trying to free themselves. Tim is right, realize Bruce, closing soundlessly the door, incapable of facing his son, he does be alone in this world.

“Sometimes, I phase out. I’m not here, but my body is still there. It’s like I’d gone hide myself in some corner of my brain. And so, given that I’m absent, nothing happens. And no, it’s not sleeping because I’m aware of everything, I’m awake. Just not there. Just rejecting everything. And those absences are physically exhausting. It means staying in the same place and exact same position, muscles all tightly stretched. I think One day I just won't come back to front and stay to putrefy inside my own head. I hope nobody finds my very alive and decaying corpse. It’s better if I disappear in the woods without one word.”

He whispered his thoughts silently. With a bit of sadness piercing through his voice, just a little dot. Barbara wanted to hug him tightly, to beg him to stay with her. But he was on the other side of the city on patrol and she shouldn’t have hacked on his com. Now she had the crushing guilt of knowing Tim needed help and knowing she would never acknowledge her hearing his private thoughts. Maybe it would had been easier if she hadn’t heard him at all.

“ Do you truly know Timothy ? Because I sure don't. We are all different personalities and we take charge of the exchange given who is in front of us and what they expect. I’m Tim the little brother but I’m also Tim the older brother. I’m Tim the perfect student and Tim that follow no rule? I’m Robin, no not anymore I’m Red Robin. I’m a well known vigilante. I’m Timothy Jackson Drake, the heir, the CEO of Wayne Industry. I’m Tim Drake. I’m whoever they need me to be. I’m polite to her but not to him. I’m so calculated but too impulsive. I’m cold but too much on the other side of the spectrum. Switch switch switch. I’m broken. The masks won’t stick anymore and now we have been discovered, us, the Tims. We ain’t truly one, we are just working in concordance. It’s like a ballet, one touch of anger, then passive aggressive and final on the exhausted Tim. Each one try to work hand in hand to make the best approximation of a real functional human.”

Alfred stopped next to the young man. He had pushed Tim outside in the garden to keep him company while he was gardening. What was all that talk about switching. He knows Tim, he is the young boy who imposed himself as Robin, whom he considered as his grandson. He didn’t know this odd young man seated across from him, talking about personalities. Maybe his work, both at day and at night, might finally get to him. He must be exhausted once more. Alfred looked at him, studied him. Tim was entranced by his own hands. He seemed so lost. Alfred would forbid him to work tonight and make him go to bed early. That should fix it, right ?

“ If I only exist through pain and medications, what is the point of keeping the facade up ? No one want to be around me, I’m unsupportable. I can’t keep saying, Im’ fine, I’m ok, while yellling inside that I want to dissapear. Do they realise the sacrifice it is to stay by their side. Sure it’s easier for them, easier to have me alive, even though I don’t exist in their world, to know I existe somewhere. But I’m tired. It’s been 4 years takings pills, seeing professional… why do I still have no answer ? Why I still feel like I shouldn’t be here ? I’m quite sure I belong inside a casket, or even a box, hidden from everyone sight. I kept dropping, breaking over trivial things. My world resumed by other’s world. I’m not the main character, I just live in the background. Worst is knowing that I’m fake in every part of me. I tried so hard to be someone, that I ended up being nothing, a big pretty liar. But nobody see that, no one want to see it. I’m gonna dissapear. That is all I want. Everything had ad always been so heavy, so hard for me. I’m tired of faking it, of being ok, of being pushed away. I just want to dissapear the same way I lived, discreetly and whitout noise. To be gone is what I truly wish, what I truly aspire.”

Ra’s took a shaking breath. The Detective, His Detective, was showing signs that were alarming. Maybe he needed to step in and take Tim with him. His so-called family was clearly failing him. If not he would never have said any of this shit even less to Ra’s who is his enemy. Shouldn’t he confess to his close friends or even family ? Ra’s tried to catch his arm, and Tim stayed still. He couldn’t. He couldn’t take the young man with him like that, just kidnap him. He needed to prepare for him and for the opposition he would encounter from the vigilantes. So he left with regret filling his head. He would be back.

“ I want to matter,” cry Timothy, eyes unseeing, deversing tears, hot burning tears. “ I want to matter. I want to be noticed. I want to be loved. I want to be held. I want to be seen. I want ! I want to exist, damn” he murmurs. “ Please, don’t forget me. Don’t let me disappear in indifference. Please… I want to … I want to exist” he ended up sobbing. Nobody hears his pleas, nobody sees him drop to his knees, clutching his chest in a mock embrace, rocking himself back and forth while he cries and sobs in despair. Does he even know what he is saying ? Has he slept recently ? Has he eaten in the last two days ? Is he in control today ?

The mask won’t stick anymore. Nobody has confronted him even though he kept talking about everything that felt wrong. He doesn’t know how to ask for help anymore ? He tried, he talked over and over. Maybe it was just normal stuff. Maybe he was making a big fuss about nothing. Maybe everybody felt that way. They must have wondered why he was whining so much then. Yeah that must have been what was happening. He was a bother once again. He kept making remarks that were obvious. He was so dumb.

He was shaking. That was going to be it. Tim was at his point of no return. He had hit rock bottom. All those weeks talking to everybody, trying to open up, only to pass for an idiot. He was so dumb. That was gonna be it. It might be normal to feel like that. He might have bothered them with his little identity crisis, with his silly story that everybody had to live through. Except he couldn’t anymore. He couldn’t put on anymore mask, feel himself, his selves, slip through his fingers. He couldn’t be afraid of sleep, of staying awake, of eating, of starving. He couldn’t let himself be a nuisance for others, no more. He was done. He had tried his hardest but sometimes even the simpler thing could be too much for the weakest soldier.

Maybe someone would care after it ? Maybe he might be mourn ? Maybe Batman could have better vigilante. Maybe Dick could focus on his only younger brother fully. Maybe Jason will forgive him. Maybe Alfred wouldn't have to care about him. Maybe Kon could be happy with Cass and find happiness in the arms of his old crush. Maybe Stephanie would finally be less awkward when hearing his name. Duke could easily take his place and be more integrated in the family. Maybe Ra’s will let him go. So many maybe, an absence of answer. He was hopeful they always managed to land on their feet.

His hands were still shaking. He still managed to take all the meds. Over the last four year he managed to stock up on prescription drugs, quite a lot actually, unfinished tabs, started treatments then abruptly stopped leaving vials full or half full of meds.

For Tim it didn’t matter which one was going in. He just started taking pill after pill, emptying the vials, and going through another. He started feeling a little out of it after his third different medicine. He kept going at it, until he had to sit against the couch cause it was moving too much around him. Then he just opened the bottle and let the little pills roll on his coffee table, eating them like candy.

He never felt himself go.

After everything, when all ended, it would haunt all and each one of them. They knew.

If you read if all, thank you. I hope you liked it. This one is dear to me because it has an odd way of narrating that I love.

All those thoughts your just read are mine, so don’t read too much about it from a canon perspective. It's therapeutical for me to put my abnormal thoughts on some type of media. If you ever had those thoughts, please seek help, or even message me. Those are not normal or insignificant.

I wanted someone to help Tim, but I'm better at sad ending.

Please forgive me my broken english, I’m actually french and writing in another language is challenging. Please give me your thought, I will greatly appreciate it.

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