This is a sad story, and I am sorry. But the ending is ambiguous, so it may end happily; who knows?

Anyway, enjoy!

Trigger Warning for: Suicidal thoughts, depression

Tim is drowning.

He's alone and scared and he can't breathe. But no one else can know that so Tim smiles when anyone asks how he is and he lies.

Tim is good at lying, especially to himself.

His life is a strict schedule. Wake up, get dressed, go to WE, work there, go home, work more on WE stuff, go out as Red Robin, get back from patrol, work on case files, fall asleep while working on case files, and repeat.

If there's any time he'll eat and fix any injuries, but that's always second to everything else.

Sometimes people will see through his lies. Tam's especially good at it. When she asks if he's okay and he lies, she'll glare at him and make him eat or take a nap.

Sometimes Dick sees through his lies too, but he's easier to distract than Tam. Usually, he'll give up.

It should hurt that so many people think Tim's okay when he isn't.

Instead, it just makes him feel empty.

So he goes through the motions and if he's a little thinner and a little more sleep deprived than normal, no one seems to notice.

He continues.

Until one patrol when he takes a break.

It isn't unusual for any of them to sit on the edge of a building on patrol when it's quiet. But something about doing it feels strange to Tim tonight.

He still sits.

The skyline of Gotham is beautiful. The horrible, evil, complete cesspool of crime it is, but it can still be pretty.

Tim looks down. At this height, people are tiny ants moving. It's hard to believe how high he is. He wonders if the ground is really as close as it looks.

"Hey, Replacement," a voice says.

Tim turns around. Jason is there.

"Mind if I join you?"

Tim shrugs. Jason sits down next to him.

"How was patrol?"

"It was fine," Tim says.

"And how are you? You didn't come to the Manor yesterday."

"I had some work. I figured no one would miss me."

"You haven't been to the Manor in a few weeks. Even Alfred is about ready to drag you in."

Tim snorts, because what else can he do? Alfred won't do that for him. Maybe Jason, but not Tim.

Jason doesn't add anything else. Tim looks over at him.

"Are you good? You seem off."

Jason is clearly concerned. He's even removed his helmet, leaving his mask on.

"I'm fine."

"You know, being this high up is kinda amazing," Jason says in a complete change of topic.

"It is, isn't it?" Tim agrees. He doesn't mention that he wants to jump from the building, just to feel the wind. He'd release his grapple gun, of course, but the wind would be nice.

"No matter how much this city sucks, I always remember why I try to save it when I come up here."

Tim hums.

"It's just, it's peaceful. Sure, most of the time it sucks, but nights like these it doesn't really. It's just like any other city. Like a home."

Tim stands up. He has the feeling Jason wants to be alone.

"Heading home?" Jason asks.

"Yeah," Tim says, giving his trademark half-smile. "I've got some cases to catch up on."

Jason nods. Tim turns away to make his escape.

"And kid, are you sure you're okay?"

Tim considers answering truthfully just this once. Telling someone, anyone, just how hard it is to get up in the morning and shower and eat. About the crushing weight, the one he feels every time he looks in the mirror. About how he feels like he's constantly spiraling out of control and no one is going to be there to catch him when he finally hits the ground.

He considers, and then he does what he does best; lies.

"I'm just fine."