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The Third Robin

Summary : Tim Drake wonders why he's become Robin
Rating : G
Characters : Tim Drake
Disclaimer : None of the characters are mine. Honest.

Author's Notes : This is my very first DC fic. I've been thinking about this for a while and, with some help from my wonderful beta, Mara, I think it's come out pretty good.

*

Tim Drake was in the Batcave, shivering, despite the warmth. He stood in front of the cabinet that held Jason Todd's old Robin costume, his fingers lightly touching the glass. The position allowed him to see his own reflection superimposed over Jason's costume. It was an eerie sight, but, Tim thought, rather prophetic.

For what must have been the hundredth time that day, Tim wondered how he would ever compete with someone who so obviously held Bruce's affections. He'd snuck into the cave a few nights ago and seen Bruce staring at the cabinet, as though willing Jason to appear. His cowl had been down and there was a look of pain etched on the usually stony face. Tim had simply held his breath and tiptoed out of there. It was a testament to Bruce's distraction that he hadn't noticed Tim.

Tim wasn't naive. He knew there was a fundamental difference between himself and the previous two Robins: He was the only one who had sought out the position. He had virtually forced himself on Bruce, who probably took him in just to protect his and Dick's identities. Maybe he shouldn't even be here now, he thought.

He remembered Dick telling him about Jason, his pain not from the loss of the younger man, but from the knowledge that Bruce might never recover. Dick understood that Jason was closer to Bruce than he ever was, and he accepted that, knowing that their many differences would always keep them from being that close. The unspoken acknowledgement was that they were best friends. They might never speak the words, but to everyone around them it was clear.

Tim remembered watching Bruce and Dick, as Batman and Robin. They hadn't spoken a single word to each other, yet their movements in a fight were those of a beautiful ballet -- perfectly timed, completely in synch with each other. They fought almost like one person.

He wondered if he could ever have that type of relationship with Bruce. Hell, he thought, any type of relationship. He could never be the younger brother that Dick was, and he couldn't be the ... whatever Jason was to Bruce. As a tear rolled down his cheek, Tim Drake wondered if he would always just be the Third Robin.