Chapter 18
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Damian stood in the doorway, watching Tim stuff his clothes into a leather trunk. Tim stroked a hand down the suit Bruce had bought him, wavering on whether or not to take it with him. He couldn’t when he would wear it again but the idea of leaving it here made his chest squeeze tightly.
“I’m sorry Damian,” Tim left the suit in his wardrobe and closed his overstuffed trunk, pushing down on it to fasten the buckles.
“Are you going to come back?” Damian’s voice was so small. Tim stood up from his trunk and pulled Damain into a tight hug, burying his face in his dark hair.
“I’ll kill Blask Mask,” Damain growled into Tim’s shirt.
“Don’t you dare,” Tim squeezed Damian closer, “I’m not losing you.”
“But…”
“No, I won’t…”
“I don’t want to lose you either!” Damian cried out, “What about Batman? He could stop Black Mask.”
Tim remembered Batman bursting into the underground warehouse, Mortimer flying above him. He had towered over the room, ready for a fight but it had been too late. Black Mask was already gone. The only people left were Damian, Harry and Tim crouched around Amelia’s body. Tim barely remembered Bruce pulling him away from Amy and wrapping him up in his cape. The foggy haze inside Tim’s brain made the trip back to Wayne Manor seem like a blur and he hadn’t reawakened until he was placed gently down on his bed. As soon as haze lowered, Tim started to pack.
“I’ll try and come back,” Tim said, all too aware of the last promise he had made to bring Amelia back.
Damian didn’t seem to believe him. Tim wasn’t even sure he believed himself. He couldn’t get the picture of Amelia out of his mind, her face replaced by Damian or Jason or Dick.
“And I’ll write, everyday if you want.”
“I’ll keep you unformed,” Damian said seriously. Tim held him for one more second before letting Damian go.
“You should get to bed,” Tim pushed Damian gently. “I’ll…” He almost said I’ll see you tomorrow but caught himself in time.
Looking back at Tim, Damian reluctantly slipped out of the door. A moment later, he rushed back in and held something out to Tim. It was a elegant dagger, its bone handle carved to resemble snake scales.
“I carved it myself,” Damian looked up at Tim, “some of the scales are uneven but…”
“I love it,” Tim said. He tucked it into his trunk, hoping that whatever magic the leather was imbued with would allow it through airport security.
Damian nodded rigidly and stepped out of the room, closing the door with a soft click. Feeling the fog creep back into his mind, Tim scooped up his phone and scrolled down to his parent’s number. He pressed it and waited, listening to the phone ring.
“Hello this is Linda, the personal assistant of Jack and Janet Drake. They can’t come to phone right now but I can leave them a message.”
Tim threw the phone across the room. A sob rose in his throat and had to fight to keep himself from collapsing onto the ground. What had he expected?
The door opened for a second time and Tim hastily rubbed at his eyes.
“It’s just me,” Harry said, dragging his trunk and Hedwig’s cage into the room. “I left a letter for Bruce and…for Ruby.”
“Do you think we’re making the right choice?” Tim moved closer to Hary, struggling to speak around the lump in his throat.
“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Harry said quietly.
“Yeah.”
Harry held out his hand and Tim clasped his tightly. Mortimer dug into his shoulder and Ava wrapped herself closely around Harry’s wrist. “I think I can get us to the airport,” Harry said, “we’ll need to move quickly before Bruce realises we’re gone.” Glancing one last time around his bedroom, Tim nodded and braced himself for the uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed through a tight tube.
They materialised outside Gotham’s only airport, a small concrete building with a runway filled with so many potholes that it was a miracle that any planes took off. At least it was cheap. A month and a half without paying for any groceries or water bills had allowed Tim to save up enough for two tickets to London and inflight snacks. Munching on some stale pretzels that tasted like ash, Tim buckled himself into his seat and watched the flight attendants half-hearted safety presentation. He gripped his hand rest as the plane rumbled down the runway and flew up into Gotham’s grey sky. Tim peered out of the grimy window and thought he could just see the black dot that was Wayne Manor growing more and more distant. Harry lowered his head onto Tim’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
“I’ll wake you when we land,” Tim whispered.
“I won’t fall asleep,” Harry said. He mumbled something else but it was lost under the grumble of the plane engine. Tim could guess what he was saying though. He doubted he would get any sleep for some time.
The plane levelled out and Tim sunk back into his stiff backed chair that smelt of smoke.
“We’ll be arriving at Heathrow Airport in seven hours,” said a crackling voice over the plane speakers, “keep your seatbelts on and your gas marks on hand.”
Tim let out a dark huff of laughter that turned into a sob in his throat. He was going to miss Gotham. It wasn’t for forever. Somehow, Tim would find a way to defeat Black Mask even if it meant burning Drake Industries to the ground. For now though, all Tim could think about was the pool of blood staining the concrete around Amelia’s body and Black Masks’ businessman smile, filling his vision every time he blinked.