Dc what if?

What if Tim killed Batman?

It was a warm, sticky night in Gotham City. The air was thick with the smell of rotting garbage and concrete, and the distant wail of a police siren added an ominous undertone to the otherwise mundane sounds of the city. Tim Drake, formerly known as Robin, sat huddled in the shadows of an alleyway, his back against the damp brick wall. His eyes were glazed over, staring blankly at nothing in particular, as his mind raced with a million thoughts and memories.

He'd been sitting there for hours, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. His heart raced every time he heard footsteps approaching, and his muscles tensed with the anticipation of a fight. But the city was quiet tonight, and all that came down the alleyway were the occasional drunks and the occasional junkies.

Tim closed his eyes, trying to clear his head, but the memories kept flooding back. The look on Bruce's face when he died... the feel of the gun in his hand... the way The Joker laughed as he pushed him to the breaking point. It was all too much. He didn't understand why he'd done it. He didn't understand why he couldn't just forget about it and move on.

He heard footsteps approaching the alleyway again, and his heart raced in his chest. He tensed, ready to defend himself or attack, he wasn't sure which. But it was just another junkie, stumbling home after a long night of self-destruction. Tim sighed and relaxed against the wall, watching as the figure lurched past him and disappeared down the alley.

He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind, but the memories kept coming back. The feel of the gun in his hand, the hot metal against his skin, the way it bucked when he fired it. He couldn't stop thinking about it. He wished he could. It was like his brain was on repeat, playing back the same horrific moment over and over again.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the only way to make the memories go away. The only way to stop hearing The Joker's voice in his head, telling him to kill, telling him it was the only way. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself. It felt so right, in a twisted sort of way.

He stood up, his legs shaking with the effort of holding him upright. He didn't want to do this, but he didn't see any other choice. He didn't want to end up like The Joker, but maybe... maybe it was too late for him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

He knew where The Joker kept his hideout. He'd followed him there once, when he was trying to stop him. It was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, and it was as good a place as any to end it all. He made his way through the city streets, his heart pounding in his chest, his hands trembling with anticipation and fear.

The warehouse loomed before him, a dark and foreboding structure that seemed to reach out from the shadows and pull him closer. He hesitated for a moment, his fist clenched around the cold metal of the gun. Part of him wanted to turn back, to go back to the alleyway and try to forget about everything. But another part of him, darker and more twisted, urged him forward.

He took a deep breath and stepped through the broken doorway, his footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. The place was empty, as he'd expected. The Joker was never one to stay in one place for long, always moving on to the next big score. But it didn't matter. There was no one here to stop him now.

He walked through the warehouse, his fingers trailing along the cold metal of the gun in his pocket. The memories of what he'd done flooded back, and he had to force himself not to double over in pain. But it was too late for regrets. There was only one way out of this now.

He found the spot he'd been looking for, a dark corner where The Joker had once cornered him and forced him to his knees. The concrete floor was still stained with the blood they'd shed that night, a gruesome reminder of the events that had led him here. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and steeled himself for what he was about to do.