Tim Drake SI

"Gotham's docks are a labyrinth of shadows," Batman whispered into the commlink, his gravelly voice cutting through the static. Tim, was perched on the edge of a towering shipping container, nodding in agreement. The salty air from the sea blew his hair to the side, and despite that he kept his gaze on the docks below with their low lighting. It was the place where the Ghost Dragons had set up their illegal operation.

In addition to the salty air, it had a diesel smell to it most likely from the containers on the docks. The distant waves crashing against the docks could be heard, at least in Tim's perspective. The concrete pier had a stark contrast to the grumbling forklifts and movements of The Ghost Dragons. Tim had to admit; the Ghost Dragons had picked a good spot to conduct their operation. The docks were empty around this time.

From the original timeline, Batman and Robin went through the motions to discover that the Ghost Dragons had their leader back, King Snake—a man that the old Tim had crushed before he became self-inserted. Fortunately, in this timeline, Tim Drake already knew what was up.

Tim's heart ran a mile in his chest. The man-child knew he couldn't just reveal who King Snake was, too many unanswered questions and while Tim was sure he could come up with a justifiable lie, he wasn't about to try his luck. So instead, he suppressed this urgency, he had to let the pieces of the puzzle fall in place like he was discovering it for the first time with no meta-knowledge. He studied the layout of the harbor, seeing how efficient and practiced the gang members were. It was far beyond your ordinary street thug gang. This was a leader's work. Obviously, King Snake's.

"Affirmative, Batman," Tim was steady in his response. "The shadows are deep, but I can make out their patterns." Tim narrowed his eyes as it adjusted to the lighting. He was looking deeply into how The Ghost Dragons were moving. Their precision was above the idea of just simply having a leader's work. They also had some kind of military training to go along with their movements. There was a reason why King Snake was so well established.

Batman's eyes squinted as he looked upon the scene, his knowledge about the situation matching Tim's. "They're not the usual rabble, Robin. They're trained. Proceed with caution." The Dark Knight had concern in his voice, warning his ward. The stakes were higher now, they weren't just dealing with a gang of opportunists. It was a very disciplined force, and it could prove to be more complex than just busting a few heads.

Tim gave a silent nod, acknowledging Batman's assessment despite already being in the know. Tim could feel the adrenaline in his tongue, before he decided to leapfrog of the edge, he was just surveying the scene from. The cape flowed around Robin as he was descending towards the ground, then he was yanked back up with the powerful line of his grappling hook. The world was spinning for a second or two before he landed in an almost supernatural manner, he was like a shadow amongst the industrial roars.

The Ghost Dragons did not peep the invasion at first—their focus completely occupied by the cargo that they were hauling tirelessly and thanklessly. Batman and Robin had landed symmetrically opposite of each other, the way they were moving looked like it spoke years of experience. Tim had already taken out two gang members before the situation had even been registered to them. The first cries of alert were silenced as Batman handled business, the gang looked at the duo in confusion as they watched the leaders of the operation fall. Meanwhile Batman and Tim had just gone for what looked like the toughest guys, not knowing they were the leaders.

Tim's almost wished he could pause so that he could drink in the scene better. All he could see was a marathon of mathematical probabilities, the unfolding of the fight turning into vectors and angles that was like an aim-bot for his fighting ability. He had leapfrogged across containers, each leapfrogged necessary and perfectly needed and not done from Tim's own judgement of the situation. His feet were hardly ever on the ground as he was fighting through the group with precision. The gang members were obviously no joke, but in the end, they were simply no match for Tim's pre-cognitive understanding of their movements.

On the other hand, Batman had an eerie calmness to his movements. His cape, ever his loyal companion, followed him as he moved through the group. His fists and feet were finding purchase on the bodies of the Ghost Dragon, accuracy that was very high according to Tim's math-infused gaze. The criminals were stumbling and falling, just getting torched by the duo. To the outside observer, the fight looked like two really skilled superheroes doing the impossible and taking down so many gang members. To Tim, the numbers were making sense, his math gaze turning chaos into perfection.

Finally, the last of the gang members had fallen apart and the docks were littered with bodies that won't be waking up for a long time. The dock would've been completely quiet save for the heavy breathing between the two heroes and the distant crashing of waves against the pier. Tim, feeling as if he had forgotten something, looked at his gear and realized something crucial, his bo-staff was still holstered. He didn't even try to use it throughout the entire fight. It was an almost powerful realization—his mathematical mind had basically told him that his bo-staff was useless to him. No, not completely useless, just useless in this situation. There was a mix of pride and trepidation emanating from Tim.

Batman had already pinned a Ghost Dragon against the wall, his hand a fist on the man's collar as he raised him from the floor. Tim easily recognized that posture, this was The Dark Knight's infamous interrogation mode. The thug had mustered his defiance in the face of fear, but Robin's mathematical gaze pointed out the sweat under the man's brow, a traitor to his defiance.

Tim made his approach, his footfalls made no sound on the concrete. The scene before him was exactly like a chessboard, but instead it was full of numbers that he had to make sure made sense. The criminal's eyes were moving around, evidently searching for an escape that would not come. Robin could see the probabilities, the likelihood of the man talking or just remaining silent.

"Who's behind this?" Batman was demanding when he spoke, his fists ever tighter around the man's collar.

The criminal just snarled as he spat a mouthful of blood at the ground. "You think I'm gonna talk to you? I got more honor than that."

Batman's eyes had an intensity that was honed over the years for this exact purpose. "Honor among thieves," he barked. "Is that what you call it?"

The Ghost Dragon's sneer went away almost instantly, Batman's words making him realize the gravity of his situation. Tim saw the numbers change in real time into their favor. The man's eyes returned to looking for an escape or maybe this time trying to rationalize if he should break. In the end, his resistance crumbled like Thanos snapping half the population away.

"King Snake," he choked out at last, clearly fearful in his voice. "It's him. The boss. The big blind blonde."

Tim could not understand why his heart sped up. It would appear that despite knowing about the man's existence, seeing the criminal in fear as he said the man's name still did wonders. Robin had to seal the deal with this, making sure there was no doubt and seeing his chance to ignore the chase of proving whether King Snake is back unlike the original timeline. "You're sure?" he asked calmly, his voice betraying his inner turmoil.

The thug nodded quickly, his eyes flickered from Batman to Robin back to back. "Yeah, yeah, it's him! The one who says he's got Gotham in his grip!"

Batman nodded signaling his thanks before he shoved the man harshly onto the ground. He was still scum after all. The thug just merely laid there, defeated and panting as The Dark Knight turned to Robin. "Good work, Robin," he said, with a fraction of a smile on his face. "Now, let's get the GCPD to clean up this mess."

Tim had his comlink out immediately afterwards, the digital display was flickering in the dark as it signaled that the GCPD was on their way. The Gotham City Police Department was going to arrive swiftly, the duo could hear the distant sirens that were growing louder with each second. The Ghost Dragons were going to jail with their stolen cargo recovered, and in the end, the darkness that would've swallowed up this side of Gotham was pushed back.

They swung through the night, the adrenaline that would've been there as Robin's first time was replaced with experience and a cold knot in Robin's stomach. Back to where it was safe, the Batcave, Tim could not shake off the responsibility that was there. Like it was up to him to defeat King Snake, and in so many ways he wasn't lying. "It's my fault," Robin's voice traveled through the cavernous space like it was nothing. "I should have made sure King Snake was really dead."

Batman paused, fixing his ward with a piercing gaze. "Tim," he said firmly, and there was a gentleness there that betrayed his image. "You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over. You did everything you could back then. And we still don't know if this is the same man we faced before."

Tim involuntarily let out a sigh as he was trying to stop the tumult of numbers that was flaring in his head. "But I've seen his type before," he continued. "The way he orchestrates fear, it's...it's like he's got a mathematical formula for it. It's precise, almost artful in its cruelty."

Batman explored Tim for a second, the silence beginning to become powerful. "Your instincts are sharp, Robin," he said at last. "If you're certain it's him, we'll need to prepare ourselves for what's to come. King Snake is not a man to be underestimated."

Tim wasn't about to say that it was some mathematical formula or some deep brainy understanding that allowed him to know that King Snake was back. He was just self-inserted. Of course it was him—he'd read this part before.

Nodding firmly, Robin agreed. "You're right, Batman. We need to be ready." The real battle was just beginning and Tim knew it. "But for now, I've got school tomorrow. And we can't have the world's greatest detective getting a B because his sidekick was up all night," he said in a chipper expression, trying to brighten the space.

Batman's body language became softer for a moment. "Good night, Tim."

Tim went up the secret passage of the manor, still thinking deeply about the situation. He knew what should happen in the original storyline, that Batman defeated King Snake on his own with ease. But now with Tim's unique fingerprint in things, he couldn't shake the feeling that like KGBeast, it was his responsibility to defeat King Snake now.

When he made it to his room, he took off his Robin costume, showered, and then went to bed. The sheets were refreshing compared to the Robin costume he had on, and the darkness of the room contrasted sharply with the numbers that only he could see. Seeing that it was his responsibility to defeat King Snake as he had the knowledge, the power, he just couldn't put his mentor and father figure at risk by trying to do things naturally. After all, Robin had faced the KGBeast who was a man of raw power and precision, and King Snake just couldn't quite measure up to that. The old Robin had defeated him before he became self-inserted and got this power.

When the next morning had arrived, Tim had showed up with excitement as he hadn't been in school for weeks and trepidation for obvious reasons. He knew he was the best student virtually, as with being supernaturally smart, his power put him in a league of his own, algorithms that allowed him to solve complex formulas. He took his seat in his history class, already thinking about the class's schedule.

As the door reopened, cool air blasted in with the scent of chalk, dusty textbooks, and a figure that made his heart stutter—Ariana Dzerchenko; the girl he had saved, along with her father, from a particularly nasty encounter with Ghost Dragons. Long dark hair beautifully framed her face, a little bit of ferocity and a little bit of haunted vulnerability. She glided in silently, her eyes searching the class and accidentally found its way onto him.

Ariana sat beside Tim, and for a second, time seemed to have stopped. The numbers and formulas, which had occupied his vision all the time, faded away in proportion to the cascade of emotions he was not prepared to face. She gave him a small soft smile that looked for some reason fake, and Tim felt his cheeks burn. He met her smile with a nod, maintaining his composure.

Oblivious to the silent thread tightening between the two, the teacher droned on, introducing another portion about transatlantic slavery. Tim, however, was looking through a hundred possibilities in his brain. How did she know him? Was it something he had said? Something done during the rescue? And what did that mean for their friendship?

When the bell rang, the silence was shattered. Tim packed his books, looking quickly at Ariana. She was taking her own sweet time packing her bag obviously knowing he was watching her. Gaining his strength, he went over to her, quite literally, heart pounding like a hammer. "Ariana, thanks for waiting."

She glanced up, brown eyes meeting blue. "Tim," she whispered. "Thank you for saving us. You're Robin, aren't you?"

Tim choked on his breath. His fears had come to manifest—she knew. But the calm, which usually roamed across the chaos of numbers in his mind, swept him like a cool stream. It was, as if his mighty maths laid a foundation for this moment, allowing him to process this revelation with more surprising calm than he thought possible.

"You know," he said quietly. "But how?"

Ariana's smile turned into one of despondency. "Sometimes, having spotted the darkness, one does not forget the shadows that saved them." Her gaze bore into his eyes, and for one moment, he could feel as if he were naked in front of her; she might be able to see straight into his very soul. "Don't worry, I won't say a thing," she swore. "I know you must keep it to yourself."

Tim breathed a sigh of relief, his rays of hope brightening his solemn face. "Thanks," he spoke earnestly. "But I need to tell you something." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "It would really be safer if you stick close to me."

Ariana looked into his eyes and nodded slowly. "Whatever it takes to keep my daddy and I safe." She spoke evenly, but her hands trembled as she zipped up her bag. Tim realized she had had the worst glimpse of Gotham nightlife. He couldn't blame her for being scared. But there was something more in her eyes-a spark of excitement, a hint of admiration. It slowly dawned on him, either she had a crush on him or liked the idea of being attached to the legendary vigilante of Gotham. Nonetheless, it was evident that she was not looking at him as simply another classmate.

They walked through the bustling corridors together, the sound of student murmurings that only heightened the tension between them. Tim felt a strange mixture of relief and anxiety. He was glad to have someone else know his secret because it took off a tremendous weight, but this came with heightened vigilance. He had to make sure she should not exclaim to the entire world that it was he who was Robin, that she would not get into trouble on account of her friends with Robin.

"So," Ariana started casually, "any plans for the weekend?"

All Tim could think about were the possibilities that were getting more exciting with every second. Tim knew Ariana was a wild girl despite her efforts to fit in with socialites—after all, she had been living in the darkness of Gotham. It is the kind of experience that would've forced anyone to become mature, and so Tim wasn't talking with any girl at a young age. By all means she was the perfect mate for now, but Tim's other side was still a modern man in DC fucking comics as Tim fucking Drake. He didn't see himself being confined to one girl, and with his power that wasn't just all combat but in every aspect of his life, it was possible. It wasn't going to be hard. "How about we check out the new science exhibit at the museum?" He suggested.

Ariana's eyes were full of excitement, nodding very vigorously. "I've heard it's got some pretty amazing stuff," her enthusiasm was very palpable. "But aren't you worried about running into trouble there?"

Tim just shrugged, his look reaching the ceiling as he considered her words. "Trouble finds Gotham no matter where we go," he had a wry smile on his face. "But that's what we do—we find it before it finds someone else." It wasn't a true lie, he had seen enough of the city's to know that danger was practically everywhere. The true reason however were the numbers that only he could see—his enhanced senses that allowed him to see probability and chances in every corner. He knew that the chances of crime happening at a public exhibition was way lower then it was on the streets, but Gotham had a way of making the impossible possible.

Arian's smile flicked, almost falling but it stayed in place. "I just don't want you to get hurt," she said softly. "You're...important to me."

She gazed at him like an anvil on his shoulders, heavy to bear. Tim knew that he was more than just a friend or another student for Ariana, it was clearly a spark there that was inducing him to reciprocate. Then again, he knew that there was danger involved in being Robin, and dragging her into that world was one thing he would never wish to do. A danger he couldn't bring himself to care about.

"I appreciate that, Ariana," he said carefully. "But let's just focus on being friends for now, okay?"

Her smile went down a little but it stayed again. "Sure, Tim. Whatever you say."

As they parted company, Tim literally couldn't shake the thought that he had hurt her badly. He had seen her in the original storyline, a side character with a tragic backstory that never really found closure. Now she stood right before him, flesh and blood, with feelings and fears that were all too real. It was unexpected, the attraction, but it was there, a whisper that drew faintly at the edges of his mind. He was trying to represent the Tim Drake he knew to the best of his ability.