A Tim Plan

Chapter 3: Cut Out Of The Loop

Tim returns three days in a row, pretending to go home to parents who aren't there (he's pretty sure they're in Albania right now, but he's waiting until the black eye Jason gave him goes down before he actually contacts them to find out) and hacking his school to make sure their records say he's been cooped up in classes instead of spying on dangerous lunatics.

Maybe Bruce's theories about Joker being a victim in the Warehouse Incident are correct. Maybe his ideas about the Clown being a fraud are true. Maybe the man really isn't all that bad. Or maybe, and much more likely, Bruce is delusional and trying to rationalize the most inappropriate crush Tim has ever seen. Tim doesn't know, and he doesn't care, because he knows two facts for certain: Joker is dangerous, and Tim will do what it takes to keep him alive. For Batman's sake, just like everything else Tim does.

Over seventy hours no sleep, on minor pain pills and higher stress than usual, Tim thinks he can be excused for taking a while to realize that something about the security feed is different on the fourth day.

Joker has spent the entire day sleeping. No singing, no tracing bats in the air with his fingers, no psychological warfare against the guards or fellow inmates — not even a bathroom break. He's just curled up on his cot, deep breaths interspersed with breathy giggles and the occasional whine.

(Things Tim Drake's Learned Through Ethically Dubious Spying, #1754: Joker has nightmares.)

Breathy giggles and the occasional whine that have been happening in the exact same pattern for about four hours. Dammit. Tim switches from the useless camera feed to his contacts list, briefly sending an anonymous tip to Arkham Security about the loop before texting a contact he probably-definitely isn't supposed to have.

(Me)

[It's Trip. Is Joker in his cell?]

He waits a few moments for the reply, growing antsy and more worried with each second that ticks by. Finally, his phone dings.

(?)

[Named after an empire he couldn't hope to emulate, willingly letting an accessory control his choice and fate.]

[Why the second Prince would make a truce, I don't know, but with the blackest heart the Jester did go]

It only takes Tim a minute to solve the cryptic answer, but he runs through it at least five more times just to make sure. Fuck.

(Me)

[Okay, thanks E.]

[Give me five minutes, and don't you dare take too many with you, I'm swamped with work as it is]

Tim wastes precious minutes accessing Arkham's systems, sending guards on wild goose chases and short-circuiting security systems, carefully clearing a path from Riddler's cell to the front door. Honestly, it should not be this easy.

One thing he immediately regrets is not getting off the island before everything goes crazy. Dammit, there's no way he's sneaking off without being spotted, not with his injuries and minimal gear. Tim tugs at his wig in frustration, holding on tightly to one of the spires as he looks around for an idea. He spots the setting sun and grins under his scarf. Maybe Batman wouldn't approve of his 'social networking', but it's definitely coming in handy today.

He carefully tiptoes across the roof to where the giant form of Manbat is resting, hanging upside down in what appears to have once been a bell tower (he really needs to study the history of Arkham one of these days, because what the fuck?). Ever since being separated from Kirk Langstrom, the giant Homo Sapien Chiroptera has taken to staying close to the Asylum, despite not being imprisoned. Tim likes to think of him as the island's mascot, a thought he keeps well hidden despite knowing most Gothamites think similarly.

"Manny," he whispers, shaking the... mutant? Creature? Cryptid? Science experiment? Whatever-Manbat-technically-is awake. Golden eyes crack open to shine down on him, sending a shiver through Tim's body. Too late to back out now. "I know it's a little early for you to be up, but I was wondering if I could get a favor?"

"Favor," Manny repeats, tilting his head. Wow, that looks weird upsidedown. "Third birdie favor want from Manny?"

Tim has given up trying to figure out how Manny always knows who he is, no matter how well disguised he is, and is just grateful he's never met him as Tim Drake. "Yeah." Tim nods. "I, uh, I sorta need a ride?"

Manbat tilts his head the other way, and Tim begins to regret this plan. "Ride. Fly. Hunt." Manny smiles, fangs flashing, and Tim definitely regrets this plan.