Chapter Text
The first thing - or, well, animal - that Tim saw as he entered his apartment was a cat. Tim didn’t have a cat.
Teekl.
Tim inhaled sharply, his hand automatically going to his side, where his bo staff usually was whenever he was in costume. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in costume because he’d just gotten home from work at Wayne Industries.
“Oh, relax,” Klarion’s voice drawled in the same scratchy tenor he’d had since the beginning of time, probably. He was suddenly sitting next to Teekl on Tim’s only sofa, petting the cat as his familiar purred and stretched. “It’s not like you could have done anything with that puny weapon anyway.”
That… wasn’t incorrect. With Klarion being who he was and Tim with no backup whatsoever, he was most definitely at a loss, which meant something worse when it was clear he would be at a loss with backup, too. Klarion was, after all, the lord of Chaos.
Tim didn’t let it show on his face, though, and forcefully relaxed his muscles, stepping inside and cutting the apartment off from the outside world. Hopefully, that would mean that Klarion wouldn’t turn his attention to anyone else in this place. “Do you need something?” He asked conversationally, stepping closer. “I didn’t expect to have you over.”
Klarion began to snicker. “Oh, you’re fun,” He hummed. “You know, ever since the Light became boring and broke up, I haven’t had the chance to have fun.”
Tim winced internally, wondering what the villain called the Halcyon event, then.
“And you helped me out that one time you were at the Assassins’ place,” The entity continued, making Tim almost frown, trying to recall the moment. “So I figured - why not drop ten birds with half a stone?” He burst into full-blown laughter. “Or,” He completed, petering off. “In this case, a whole timeline with a single deal.”
Tim’s back straightened with tension. Time travel? He was pretty sure Klarion was powerful enough for that, but he’d never had the wherewithal to do so before. As the agent of Chaos, he preferred to stay more in line with what came next. Reliving the past would be far too tame for him, or he would have done so immediately, consistently, and forever. What was he planning? “... What do you mean?”
Klarion’s smirk was almost terrifying. “Timothy, Timothy, Timothy,” He said in a sing-song voice. “I know you love the Waynes. Wouldn’t you rather that Jason Todd never died at all?”
Tim couldn’t help the spasm this time, and his life flashed before his eyes. Because Klarion was correct, and there was something horrible about the fact that the life that flashed before Tim’s eyes only began after Jason died.
Tim was, after all, only a Wayne because that had happened.
And no matter how bad things were at that very moment, no matter how much he was running on no sleep, how much his shoulders ached with the weight placed on them, how much his wounds hurt from no healing, how much his eyes darted to every corner, expecting an attack - and not from assassins or villains, as was also probably possible considering how annoyed he’d made Ra’s, but from his own brothers - no matter what, Tim was a Wayne, and he loved being one.
(He hated being one.)
And it was because of everything that flashed through his mind that he knew exactly what the Witch Boy was offering. “A life for a life,” He said blankly.
“Close,” Klarion said, and Teekl jumped into his lap as he leaned further back into the sofa, looking satisfied. “Since Jason’s alive now, too, it’s more like an edit - He just won’t die originally, either.”
Tim didn’t ask Will I?
“And neither will you,” Klarion continued. “You just won’t have a reason to be a Wayne.” He grinned. “It’s a good trade-off, no?”
Tim really, really wished it wasn’t.
He had a sinking feeling that everyone would want this.
Sure, they wouldn’t say it to his face—
No, that was wrong, Damian definitely would. And Tim himself?
He swallowed. “What do you get out of it?”
“What do I ever get out of anything?” Klarion asked.
Tim’s eyes flickered to Teekl. “You never ask,” He pointed out.
Klarion tilted his head. “No,” He agreed, but his evil horns and gleaming hair made for a vicious combination.
So he had something planned that required Tim to agree to the change. Tim didn’t want to. (He so desperately wanted to.) “What do you get out of it?” He repeated, insistent. If it needed to be his choice, then he had a little leeway.
Klarion’s smile slipped. “I don’t like it when people ask too many questions,” He growled.
Tim didn’t budge.
Teekl hissed, arched, and then jumped out of Klarion’s lap. Klarion grumbled. “Fine,” He muttered. “I have fun watching the Chaos unfold because I can just taste what would happen if you weren’t there, but the second Robin was. Capiche?” He scrunched up his nose. “Now say yes so the Wayne family can be relatively trauma-less again.”
Tim flinched.
Klarion shot him a superior look.
But… But he wasn’t wrong, Tim admitted to himself. Again. Jason’s death was single-handedly the source and precursor (and, well, literally the first if no one counted the reason why Bruce was a hero in the first place) of the Bats’ biggest traumas. Jason himself, Dick and Bruce, Tim, Barbara, Stephanie because of Tim and then Jason—
There was no getting around it. If that single incident was removed, the changes would be cataclysmic and in a good way. Jason would be there to buffer Dick and Bruce working through their issues again. The Joker would have less of a chance to hurt Barbara because he was always more obsessed with Robins anyway. The whole Bruce catastrophizing, which required Tim’s intervention, wouldn’t happen, and they’d be healthier (mentally, and wasn’t it hilarious that it was so difficult to imagine?) before Cass and Damian joined the family, which would lead to a little more healthy dealing with them, which would mean no one would try (or at least nearly succeed at) trying to kill one another. Jason would obviously not become a crime lord, and the younger heroes wouldn’t be demoralized for an entire year at the death of one of the ‘immortal’ bats.
Sure, Tim would probably be alone and still be tailing the Bats as he tried to fill the gaping hole in his heart and his parents—
Maybe he’d even be completely alone.
He wondered what would happen to him - would he still file for emancipation without Bruce and Dick ready to offer to help him out? Would he be subsisting entirely on unhealthy food and coffee with no motivation to upgrade his meals and no Alfred there to force nutrition into his system? Would he even know Stephanie, who had been one of the best parts of his life? What would happen to Stephanie without him to drag her into deadly Robin drama?
He swallowed again, and Klarion raised his eyebrow, pointing one finger up. A silhouette of a clock materialized, and a loud Tick Tock echoed through the room.
“Yes,” Tim said, half surprised at himself, half understanding. “Okay. Please do it.”
Klarion’s smile, this time, was more devilish than Tim ever remembered seeing it. “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that,” He said, and all around them, the room, the world, reality, crumbled into dark nothingness.