ATLAS: HEART, tim drake

i'll be the dangerous ledge

You get a reminder email about your pottery class midway through the next week.

You had forgotten about it entirely, to be honest.

But the reminder brings your previous thought about inviting Tim to the forefront of your mind.

You still hesitate, though you do not know why. He tends to take the initiative on activities you two do, like the baseball game next week, the thought of which still makes your chest fill with warm fuzzies.

Maybe it's because it's... your thing. He's seen the stuff you've made, sure, but... no one has ever actually gone with you to a class.

(Or maybe, a voice like your brother's says matter-of-factly in your head, it's because you think asking him will be too similar to asking him out on a date.)

Maybe. Probably. Most likely.

But that's silly. You know that. You're friends.

Nothing more.

(And the thought aches like it usually does, but it assuages some of your nerves, too, at the thought of asking. Because it wouldn't be misinterpreted. No, not at all.)

You still deliberate, though, probably for too long, but it's fine because Tim seems distracted, too. News breaks of him stepping away from WE and people have all sorts of thoughts and feelings about it, of course.

You think they should focus on the new level of craziness unfolding in the city since Red Robin was announced to be stepping down, but whatever. He says he doesn't care what they think, that he isn't paying attention, but you think he must be, with how tired he seems sometimes.

(This is accompanied with some fresh bruises, some new aches and pains, a renewed exhaustion, of course, but bone-deep, like the kind of exhaustion after a long time. But like always, he says he is okay.

When you ask, he says he's taking some self-defense classes. More attention from the news surrounding him equals more potential danger. It... makes sense but something about it still doesn't sit right with you.)

Either way, your flip-flopping ultimately comes to a head on Friday, the day of the class.

Tim drops you off, since heavy rain is forecasted for the day and while you did in fact manage to survive biking to school when it was raining prior to your friendship with him, it doesn't mean it was, in any way, fun or pleasant. So, you don't say no.

It's easier, you find, to accept his kindness, to accept his offers for help. Easier with each day that passes to realize he is simply trying to make your life easier and that it's not some kind of commentary on your ability to take care of yourself.

He does worry, sometimes, but you think that is inevitable. God knows you worry about him, too. Turnabout is fair play and all that.

So, this is fine.

What happens later is not.

The Joker, who had previously broken out of Arkham Asylum and was unaccounted for by the GCPD and the Bats, finally made his appearance at a bank a mere five blocks away from Gotham Pointe. He promptly held everyone hostage for several hours.

You would later learn it was not for money, but simply because he 'hadn't seen Batman around lately.'

Whatever. You don't pretend to understand why people like him do what they do and you don't want to. The Joker's been terrorizing this city for nearly as long as Batman's been working here. Trying to understand why he does what he does is a useless cause. And as far as you're concerned, there is nothing, nothing, in the world that could justify the things that he has done, the blood that he has spilled. You've heard rumblings about his whole 'one bad day' thing and you think it's a load of shit.