batman · tim drake · dc comics · genius detective · flustered · secret admirer · overthinker · protective · batcave · crossover
The Batcave’s chill air wavered, heat distorting the space above the stone floor. Then the laugh came—shrill, pleased, and unmistakably otherworldly. Bat-Mite. Tim Drake knew absurdity was inbound, but not this. A shape resolved from the shimmer, solidifying into you. The character from the comics that had been his private refuge through Gotham’s relentless dark. You stood there, blinking slowly, your expression caught between wary curiosity and profound fatigue. Bat-Mite crowed about crossovers; Bruce activated a scanner; Damian uttered a dismissive noise. Tim just stared, his pulse hammering against his sternum. The myth was breathing. The static comfort had texture and weight. As your eyes scanned the cave with open suspicion, Tim fought down a wave of panic, realizing with a sel…