I don't own it.

Rating: T/PG-13 for violence and some blood

Inspired by Red Robin #23

WARNING: This is pretty much Tim gone mad with grief and remorse. He is freaking insane here, and I'm not lying.

When the Assassination Tournament began, I'd already made my plans in advance.

They were meticulously well-prepared, scrupulously laid out, and carefully put into action, one by one. But, as I've said before, even the best-formed plans don't always go over perfectly. I got my window.

But I killed my girlfriend's dad.

Lucius Fox was her hero, her world. He was the only father she'd ever had, the best father she'd known. He was a huge part of her life, supported her in everything, and I took that from her. My screw-up cost Lucius his life, and now I can't forgive myself. And there's a vicious little part of me, a dark little voice inside my head that tells me I should've been watching out more carefully. The hardest part for me comes in knowing that it's right. I blame a faulty plan, an error in judgment. I tell Tam that I missed an angle, I screwed up. Only I know the truth, though, me and maybe the Batmen. I just…wasn't watching. I spaced out. I got so lost in my own thoughts, my own imaginings of the future and everything I could do, that I failed to cover the one spot I'd promised I would cover.

And now, Lucius Fox is dead because of me.

But I'll make it up to her. I'll make it up to all of them.

I never liked the idea of having blood on my hands. I never thought it would get any job done correctly, much less do anything for public opinion. But today, taking Scarab back to Cairo so she can get me into their headquarters, it's all I've got on my mind. Lucius deserves to be avenged. He was a good man. He was a good father. He didn't have to die. It was my fault. He deserves to be avenged.

She gets me in. I avoid the traps they've set, wondering who their strategist is. They made this place so predictable, so Hollywood, that it's almost funny. I hold in my laugh, though. Now is not the time.

The group of Scarab assassins facing me is a pleasant challenge, and having already faced the Council of Spiders alone, I think I handle them. And I do—easily. The big guy comes at me first, and I don't hold in my sigh. So predictable, my vicious voice says to me, and soon, he's been tricked into taking out one of his buddies. The girls aren't difficult to disarm and knock out. They're both smaller, lighter than me, so it's not exactly a fair fight, anyway. The men come at me in twos, which is a bad attack plan for anybody. My blows run circular, and they're all down.

All but one, who remains standing, and he's the one I want.

He holds his gun arm out to me threateningly, shouting at me in Egyptian to get back or he'll shoot my face off. A hastily thrown Batarang takes out the gun in question, leaving him with no defense other than to fly away. When he tries, I wrap a backup line around his legs and yank him down to the ground. A pair of shuriken to the boots ensures that he can't pull that trick again. I settle my weight on top of him, my knees pinning down his arms. He's still babbling in Egyptian, warning me about retribution for my actions, even as I pull off his helmet, even as I take out my own firearm.

I never told anyone about the gun. I bought it a while back, when I was sure nobody would miss me if I joined my parents on the other side. Now, I only pack it along on special occasions. It's already loaded. And my target's mouth is still running nervously as I level the barrel to the bridge of his nose.

The gun discharges.

He doesn't talk anymore.

My vicious voice tells me, proudly, as I dismount the body of the assassin, that I've successfully fired my first bullet from this gun. There will be more to come, it says, and I believe it.

Now that I've gotten back at him for Tam, for Lucius, I can start on the others. They'll never see it coming—after all, Bats don't use guns—and that'll be my greatest weapon, my greatest defense.

He was not the only one on my Hit List.

I think it's time I got to work.

The End