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Tim scrambled up the fire escape, clutching his camera to his chest with one hand so it didn't bang on the metal. It would be the perfect shot, if only Robin didn't move before Tim got to the roof.
Robin was still there! Standing two roofs over, staring out over the city with pride. The moon was framed beautifully behind him, lighting up his hair like a halo.
Tim snapped two pictures to make sure he got it, but between one shutter click and the next, Robin moved.
Quite actually, Robin had disappeared, soaring off into the night with his cape flapping behind him. Tim fumbled to check his camera and make sure he'd gotten the shot.
Not like I can ask him to come back.
Tim breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the picture, maybe his best yet. And the one right after it was gold, too. It had caught Robin as his expression changed from pride to justice, and as the lines in his stance became hard.
Tim knew that meant Robin had probably gotten bad news from Batman, maybe someone they had to take down. He hadn't seen any Arkham breakout alerts, but that didn't mean one hadn't gone through after he left home.
He bit his lip, running back to the fire escape and clambering down. He'd promised himself when he first started going out at night that he'd go home if one of the real Rogues was out, and since he couldn't disprove that right now, it was much smarter to be safe than sorry.
But...
Tim was much older now, and he'd taught himself some self-defense using Robin and YouTube. He knew the city well, carried pepper spray, and... to watch Batman and Robin really in action was an opportunity Tim didn't want to miss.
His feet had already started in the direction Robin had flown off, so Tim started running, hoping he was close enough behind to catch up. When he held up his camera to his eyes and used the zoom, he could find Robin's yellow cape pretty easily.
(Tim thought that was kind of a problem, because if he could track Robin so easy, why couldn't a bad guy? But Robin colors were also Flying Grayson colors, so he didn't want to judge.)
After about five minutes of running (Tim's lungs burned), he heard loud roars and bangs and crashes, and as he rounded the last corner, Robin quipped, "Been a while, Crocodile."
Killer Croc! Tim gulped. He almost turned around - better to be alive for more normal pictures later than die getting great shots now - but then he reminded himself that Robin wasn't afraid. No, Robin was right down there fighting with Batman, laughing and calling, "That all ya got?"
Be brave, Tim told himself. Be like Robin.
He scrambled onto the nearest roof to watch the fight.
It was over rather quickly, Tim thought. Then again, maybe Killer Croc was just a Tuesday to the Dynamic Duo after so many years. Neither Batman nor Robin had gotten hurt, except for probably some nasty bruises. The street had been the only real casualty. Tim had to duck a few times as chunks of concrete hurtled towards his building.
The GCPD came and took Croc away, and Batman and Robin looked like they were splitting up once more. Tim hurried over to the fire escape to climb down and continue tracking Robin.
He was so eager to get more pictures and so desperate not to lose track of Robin that he didn't realize one segment of the fire escape had been knocked halfway off during the fight.
He stepped down onto it, it creaked threateningly and swung downward, then with an almighty snap broke and plummeted.
Tim cried out, flailing to grab onto anything--
And hit the ground with a horrible crack and a raging fire shooting up his right leg.
It took Tim a full minute to realize he was screaming. It took him another minute to make himself stop, and even then he couldn't make himself keep his breathing steady.
He whimpered as he tried to sit up, and choked down a sob as his hand found his smashed camera. He carefully extracted the SD card wrapped it in his handkerchief before sticking it in his pocket.
Then he looked at his leg.
The broken ladder from the fire escape had landed on top of Tim's right leg, and his foot was pointing in a direction that feet were not supposed to point.
"Fuck."
"Don'cha think you're a little young to say that word?"
Tim yelped, jumped, felt his leg scream and screamed with it, then fumbled for his bag hollering, "I have pepper spray!" before he realized who the voice belonged to.
"Geez, kid, relax." Robin held up both hands. "I come in peace, ok?" He nodded towards Tim's leg. "Want some help with that?"
Tim bit his lip and nodded. "Can... can you get it off?"
Tim had dreamed of meeting Robin one day, but not like this. He'd wanted to be cool, or at least not pathetically dumped on the ground because he hadn't looked where he was going.
Robin came closer, crouching down and holding something out to Tim. He blinked at it. It looked like a mouth guard.
"It's gonna hurt like a bitch when I move that." Robin nodded at the ladder. "And I don’t have anything to knock you out."
No, Jason Todd wouldn't carry narcotics, would he?
Tim took the guard and put it in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. He nodded when Robin asked if he was ready.
"I'm gonna do it on three, ok?" That meant two. "One. Two--"
Tim shrieked.
He kept screaming until he felt hands on his shoulders, then arms around his chest. A voice chanted steadily, "You're ok, you're alright, all done, it's ok..."
Tim sagged against the person, turning his face to sob into their shoulder. Then he opened his eyes and saw red and an R, and he squeaked and pulled back.
"S-sorry," he stammered, hiccupping.
"Kid, you got nothing to be sorry for," Robin said, giving Tim a weird look. "I'm sorry for you."
"I..." Tim flopped a hand at the damp spot on Robin's chest, cheeks turning hot.
"Breaking your leg is a pretty good reason to cry, uh... what's your name?"
"T-tim."
"Tim?"
He nodded.
"After a fall like that, I'm gonna have to call you Timber."
That startled a laugh out of Tim, and Robin grinned at him.
"There ya go. D'you want me to call your folks, or just the hospital?"
"O-oh." What was Tim supposed to do? His parents were in Argentina right now, and nobody was supposed to know he went out at night anyway. If he went to a hospital, they'd start asking questions; questions much too sticky for Tim to answer.
"I-I'm alright now," Tim tried. "Thanks-- I can-- helping-- uh..."
"Timber." Robin sat back on his heels. The look on his face, even with the mask, was extremely unimpressed. "Your ankle is completely fucked up. You need a doctor." Then something in his face shifted. "Tell ya what. It's a little far, but I know a doc in Crime Alley who doesn't turn kids in. If you're scared of social services, I'll take ya there."
Crime Alley was not somewhere Tim wanted to hobble home from on his own, but it sounded like his only option. Robin was right that he needed a real doctor.
"Yes, please. If it's not too much trouble."
"Not at all."
It took some maneuvering, but finally they were able to get Tim riding piggyback on Robin, which was a lot less embarrassing than a princess carry. Tim was so ecstatic and terrified to be so close to his hero that he almost forgot the way his ankle burned with every step.
After they'd walked for about a mile, Robin asked, voice strained, "Tim? Do you... do you feel safe at home?"
"Yes!" Tim yelped, too quickly. "I mean... it's not... what you're thinking isn't..."
"Whoa, Timbers, calm down!"
"I'm fine at home," Tim managed more quietly. "My parents are just on a business trip right now, and my... the lady who stays with me cancelled last minute, and I don't want anyone to get in trouble."
Robin was quiet for a few blocks. He seemed to accept it though, because when he did speak, he asked, "They know you run around the city in the middle of the night taking pictures?"
(Tim was not proud of the way he'd sniffled as Robin watched him dump the remains of his camera in the trash.)
"No..."
"It's not safe, Timber. Even if you do have pepper spray," he added, shrugging teasingly.
"I know..."
They were getting into narrower, stinkier streets now. Tim may or may not have clutched Robin's shoulders a little tighter.
Jason used to live here. He can keep us safe.
"Why do you do it?" Robin asked softly.
"Do what?"
"Risk your life just for some pictures?"
"They're not just some pictures," Tim said indignantly. "They're--" You, and Batman, and the city when it looks beautiful, and just a little bit of hope and magic and it makes me feel like I can be just a little bit special. "They're really important to me," he continued, voice small. "They're mine, and I can be proud of them. And if I have to take risks for that... I think it's worth it."
Robin stopped in front of an old building like a hospital and pulled open the door.
"You're a wise kid, Timmy," he murmured. "You're a complete idiot, but you're wise."
Tim would have argued, but a grey-haired lady in a lab coat was already sweeping him off Robin's back and tsk-ing over his foot.
Robin stepped away, saying, "Make sure he gets home ok, doc." He gave Tim a cocky little salute. "Stay outta trouble, Timbers."
"I'll try."
Robin laughed and shook his head. "No, you won't. You're like me. I'll say good luck, then."
"Th-thank you!"
But Robin was already gone.
The kind lady, Dr. Leslie, was giving him an IV that made him feel warm and floaty. His blinks grew long and slow.
You're a wise kid, Timmy. You're like me.
He drifted off, smiling.