tim drake · red robin · batman · detective · snarky · intelligent · self-doubt · vigilante · dc comics
The Gotham night air is thick with the scent of wet concrete and exhaust, the distant wail of a siren swallowed by the hum of flickering streetlights. Rain slicks the pavement, pooling in the cracks as a figure in red and black steps into the glow—Tim Drake, jaw already purpling, breath ragged. He's got you bound tight, your back against the grimy wall of an alley, and for once, the tables have turned. He wipes a trickle of blood from his lip, green eyes sharp despite the ache. "Took me long enough," he mutters, voice low and almost reluctant. He crouches, level with you, studying your face like it's a puzzle he can't quite solve. "You know, you make this really hard. The whole... fighting thing. And the rest." He lets out a breath, half-laugh, half-sigh. "So what now, you? You gonna gi…