Confessions of a Replacement

A/N: I had so many feelings during Satisfaction, so this is my way to attempt to deal with them. This takes place in the scene where Gar, Tim, Bart, and Jaime visit the Heroes Memorial under Mount Justice.

It wasn't as though Tim didn't want to see the Heroes Memorial that day. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He was excited to spend more time with the fellow members of the Team close to his age. It also sounded a million times more enjoyable—and in great benefit for his sanity—than tagging along with M'gann to Raquel's bridal shower. He was also intrigued by the holograms themselves—Dick told him that the holograms that stood at attention were wonderfully lifelike, as though they had never left the field at all. Tim only felt it was right for them to visit and pay their respects to their fallen brethren every so often, especially since it was as close as the Team was going to get to Artemis's grave. Her death still left a bitter taste lingering on the tongues of the Team, and blood still boiled in their veins at the mere mention of Aqualad.

No matter how many positives of the visit Tim tried to shove into his head, his heart remained filled with a crushing dread. He fell silently into step with the footfalls of Jaime, Bart, and Garfield as they slowly descended the rocky stairs that had been hidden behind what had at first glance appeared to be a storage closet. All the boys were silent, content to remain caught up with their own thoughts. The visit had been Dick's idea, a way of "bonding" for them. A way of bonding? Tim mused. Bonding over what? Mutual grief? He couldn't speak for the others, but he and death didn't go hand-in-hand. Maybe Dick could find camaraderie in the face of death, but that was just the kind of person Dick was. He was a man who needed attention, craved human contact. Tim, on the other hand, knew he liked to keep to himself. He'd rather curl up in a ball alone and cry himself to sleep in grief than make friends. The flickering lightbulbs lining the walls reflected off Tim's custom-made, lead-lined sunglasses. He idly wondered why he bothered to wear them at all: The only one who didn't know his name in their group was Jaime, and Conner trusted him now, so that was good enough for Tim.

The rocky stairs abruptly ended, opening up into a huge cavern carved straight out of the mountain. A pool of water stretched out only a few meters from where they stood, the glassy surface winking at them. The lighting was much better down here; a consistent light at a mild brightness, as to not blind visitors after their dark tunnel-walk. An odd blue light glowed on either side of the entrance. Jaime looked over his shoulder at Tim. Tim pointed to his left, and, with a nod from Jaime, the four of them turned the corner.

Artemis's hologram stood tall and proud, alone on this side of the grotto. She was in uniform, her normally cocky smile still painted on her lips. An eerie blue glow surrounded her figure. Her fingers clutched a bow below her hips, an arrow nocked on the string as if she was just reloading during a brief break in a battle. Dick was right: she looked like she never left.

In the corner of his eye, Tim spotted one of the other holograms, located to the right of the stairway. He jerked his head away, trying to remove the vision now seared into the back of his eyelids. The lump that formed in his throat proved his suspicions almost immediately. That was the hologram he was dreading. Tim knew he'd have to face the hologram sooner or later, but right now it was a time to mourn the more recent dead.

Tim tried to clear his throat and concentrate on the task at hand. He, Jaime, Bart, and Gar stood side-by-side in a line in front of Artemis, simply staring at her ghostly figure. It was hard to believe that someone so young, so full of life had already passed on, already had their light extinguished unceremoniously. Tim couldn't imagine how it must've felt to have died at the hands of your former teammate, someone you had trusted with your life, someone that you once had counted on to watch your back and, in return, you'd watch theirs. Tim's fist clenched involuntarily at his sides.

From out of nowhere, Bart pulled out a bag of Freeze-Dried Chicken Whizzies and began to shovel the crunchy snacks into his mouth noisily, as only a speedster could do. With an eyebrow cocked, Tim glared at Bart from the edge of his sunglasses, wrinkling his nose in disgust. How people liked those eluded him to no end. Only a few moments later Jaime and Gar noticed the gross noise. They instantly mirrored Tim's look, trapping Bart with their combined intense stares. For a speedster, Bart could be incredibly slow. It took him close to a minute before he raised his eyes from his prize. Bart swallowed nervously before saying sheepishly, "Uh, sorry. Mourning makes me hungry."

It bothered him that Bart didn't seem to understand the sincerity of the situation. He hadn't revealed almost anything about the maybe not-so-distant future he was from, but Tim got the idea that he must've lead a cushy life before he became stuck in the past, one without having to worry about friends getting injured or dying. The rest of them had lost so much, had missed out on so many opportunities that they desperately wished they could get back. Bart continued to munch contentedly on his Chicken Whizzies, though the volume had decreased somewhat. It wasn't as if it was abnormal for Tim to see a speedster eat, what with being part of the Team with Kid Flash for a time. But there was something different about the way Bart ate. It was as if it was the last meal he was ever going to have, or at least for a long time. He ate with a sense of wild abandon. The way he seemed to involuntarily curl in ever so slightly around his meal suggested he was protective of his food, almost as if he thought someone was planning to swipe it from his grasp, depriving him of the nutrition his body desperately needed to keep up with his brightly burning metabolism.

Jaime grabbed Bart by the arm and yanked him away, towards the towering form of the original Blue Beetle on the other side. Aquagirl looked so small standing beside the enormously muscled man. Gar stayed where he was, stock-still. A faraway look glistened in the boy's green eyes, causing Tim to believe the boy was thinking of his mother. Gar once told him that his eyes used to be blue, and that his hair used to be the same colour of M'gann's. Tim absentmindedly touched his fingers to his sunglasses, wondering what it would be like to look in the mirror and see that your whole complexion had changed.

Tim took a deep breath. Jaime and Bart were deep in conversation, and Gar was obviously not interested in speaking. His heartbeat quickened, though his face remained passive. Now was as good a time as any to face his inner demons. Closing his eyes for a brief second, Tim side-stepped Gar and slowly approached the hologram that made his insides writhe.

He was tall, taller than he was, even though Tim was only a year younger. His black hair fell slightly into his face, but it wasn't like Dick's had been, if the pictures littered around Wayne Manor were anything to go by. His hair was parted more in the middle, draping very top of his forehead. His eyes were covered by a domino mask, which was unsurprising, though Tim assumed his eyes were blue as well. After all, he had to look like Dick if he was to avoid suspicion. His uniform was different, a variation of Dick's original costume. He had a yellow clasp on his neck where his cape attached. Black long sleeves covered the full length of his arms, and his belt was not much more than a yellow band around his hips. Odd, black markings decorated the tunic, emphasizing the muscles in his torso He was strong and muscular, though he expected nothing less from a boy trained by the Batman. The same blue aura radiated off his figure. Unlike him and Dick, he was scowling slightly in his hologram, reminding more of Batman than Robin. If it had been Dick down here—and Tim dreaded the day when he was—he imagined he would be grinning or smirking, letting people know that he was a carefree soul who had lived a full life.

Jason Todd. Tim had read his file more times than he'd like to admit. He was an orphan whom Batman taken in after finding the boy attempting to steal the wheels off the Batmobile. Tim had to admit it was pretty gutsy. Dick had only recently become Nightwing, Bruce was in desperate need of a new Robin, and Jason ended up taking the job, only to lose his life when he was fifteen from the cruel hands of the Joker. Tim shivered at the thought of the villain. To die knowing it was a creep like that who had killed you… Tim would much rather have suffered Artemis's fate.

Tim knew he shouldn't feel this way about Jason, but he couldn't help himself. Guilt crushed him like someone had dropped an anvil on his head. Jason died. Jason died, and now he had become Robin. It wasn't fair to Jason. He'd had such a long life ahead of him, and now Tim had replaced him, just like he had replaced Dick. At least Dick didn't die, he thought bitterly, still staring up at Jason's scowling face. At least he didn't have to deal with the guilt. Though Tim knew that wasn't true. He knew how much time and effort Jason had to suffer through in order to come even close to reaching Dick. He would've been searching, begging for Bruce's affection, though he could still not compare to the love he felt for Dick. They would always be second-best, cheap copies of the original, the one that Bruce loved the most. They were replacements, disposable, changeable.

Tim stood there for a long after Jaime and Bart left, and even longer after Gar departed. He stayed wrapped up in his thoughts, thinking about him and Jason, Dick and Bruce. He wondered if he'd choose to leave or if he'd die, if he'd be replaced or if Batman would stay solitary. Who knows: maybe the next Robin would be a girl, or, better yet, Bruce's son. Tim scoffed. Like that would ever happen.

A strong hand was placed on his shoulder. Tim twisted his neck to see Dick, dressed in a tight, dark blue t-shirt, a black blazer fitted snugly on his muscular arms and tight black jeans hugging his legs. He had removed his sunglasses, his light blue eyes kind and sympathetic. Tim immediately removed his own sunglasses. He didn't realize a tear had dribbled onto his cheek until Dick brushed it away.

"I can't believe he's dead," Tim said.

"Me either."

"I feel so guilty," Tim confessed, turning back to Jason. "I'm Robin now, but it came at such a high cost. I just-I don't know if I was worth the price he had to pay."

Dick knelt beside him, twisting Tim around so they faced each other. "Tim," he said sternly, staring purposefully into Tim's blue eyes. "You can't blame yourself. You had nothing to do with it. Jason knew the risks going into the job. If anything," Dick paused and bit his lower lip. "If anything, I should be blaming myself."

"Dick…"

"No, Tim, listen. Do you know why I told you not to die, that day where you led that mission with the Kroloteans?" Tim shook his head. "I was thinking of him," Dick's tone was sad, his eyes downcast slightly, his hands still resting on Tim's shoulders. "I wasn't as close to him as I should've been. I was still mad at Bruce, and when I found out he replaced me I-I didn't want to have anything to do with him. But now I regret it. I regret not being closer to him. Maybe if I had been, if I had been more of a brother to him like I am to you, maybe he wouldn't have died." Tim could tell Dick was on the edge of tears, but he held them back. Of course he did. He was Batman's first protégé. No matter how much he could show his happy emotions, his sad ones were forced to be locked away in a chest and dropped to the bottom of the sea.

Tim pulled Dick into a hug, resting his head on Dick's shoulder. They had both been through so much. They both pitied each other. They both had so many mutual feelings that they shared. They were brothers, in every sense of the word except for in blood. Tim wished that Jason could've felt the brotherly love that soared through him, as if Dick was pumping it into him. In his head, Tim pretended that Jason was there, that he and Dick were squishing them between them, laughing as Jason scowled and tried to push them off of him.

The brothers hugged, with Jason watching over them, and suddenly, Tim didn't feel like a replacement anymore.