[ All the trying that she does means the world to him. Trying, despite the unfair position he’s put her in, making her bear witness to his near-destruction, Tim snatching himself away from oblivion’s jaws at the last second. For anyone outside of Tim’s “mission,” everything that started as Bruce’s, his death-defying antics look like suicide. Like any day, all it would take to put an end to Tim Drake is a punk with a gun who gets lucky. Worse yet, the wrong misstep on his part. The slightest accident. That’s just how vulnerable he is, how vulnerable he’s always been, despite all the training and conditioning in the world. And he knows that.
But what’s difficult to help others understand is the choice he makes to act, despite such risks. It’s clearer now that on more than a literal sense, he and Ann are worlds apart. This incident only cements that fact, as what Tim can take as so blasé is cause for Ann’s reasonable anxiety. Her panic. Maybe there’s some self-destructive satisfaction Tim takes in this, in availing himself to these risks in the first place. It’s certainly a question that hangs over the heads of many other non-powered vigilantes, and it really can’t be dodged forever.
Not like this.
Not with Ann expressing the fears of a sane person, her words serving as a well-needed voice of reason. Tim’s spent so long selflessly putting himself on the line, only to be so selfless he’s selfish. Self-centered in thinking he’s important enough to carry out this kind of work alone, yet self-centered in thinking he’s unimportant enough to matter. Like he’s only another cog in the machine of Batman’s war on crime. Even on his best days, Tim’s all too easily compartmentalized himself as such. And instead of suffocating himself in such a role, he’s suffocating others.
Others like Ann. Others as important as Ann.
And that really shocks him. ]
No.
[ By now, she’s finished patching him up. Enough of him’s put together that he slowly advances out of the bathroom and towards her bed. ]
I’m sorry.
I used to worry that I took this stuff too seriously. But it’s clear I’m not taking it seriously enough.
Watching Bruce shrug off injuries and carry on despite himself… left an impression on me.
But I can’t use him as an excuse.
[ Fortunately, Ann’s not far behind when he glances back at her intently. He offers an arm, hoping she can come underneath to support him as they both walk to the bed. ]
You know I cherish the people I care about. The people I… love.
[ And there’s a more deliberate, lingering look. ]
But I’m no good to anyone dead. No good having almost made it out of a stupid risk I could have avoided.
I’m the one who should be sorry, Ann. Not you.
[ Now, he cracks something of a wistful smirk. ]
Who’d have thought you’d blow my mind again, huh?
Guess what went down at my Palace deserved a sequel.
no subject
But what’s difficult to help others understand is the choice he makes to act, despite such risks. It’s clearer now that on more than a literal sense, he and Ann are worlds apart. This incident only cements that fact, as what Tim can take as so blasé is cause for Ann’s reasonable anxiety. Her panic. Maybe there’s some self-destructive satisfaction Tim takes in this, in availing himself to these risks in the first place. It’s certainly a question that hangs over the heads of many other non-powered vigilantes, and it really can’t be dodged forever.
Not like this.
Not with Ann expressing the fears of a sane person, her words serving as a well-needed voice of reason. Tim’s spent so long selflessly putting himself on the line, only to be so selfless he’s selfish. Self-centered in thinking he’s important enough to carry out this kind of work alone, yet self-centered in thinking he’s unimportant enough to matter. Like he’s only another cog in the machine of Batman’s war on crime. Even on his best days, Tim’s all too easily compartmentalized himself as such. And instead of suffocating himself in such a role, he’s suffocating others.
Others like Ann. Others as important as Ann.
And that really shocks him. ]
No.
[ By now, she’s finished patching him up. Enough of him’s put together that he slowly advances out of the bathroom and towards her bed. ]
I’m sorry.
I used to worry that I took this stuff too seriously. But it’s clear I’m not taking it seriously enough.
Watching Bruce shrug off injuries and carry on despite himself… left an impression on me.
But I can’t use him as an excuse.
[ Fortunately, Ann’s not far behind when he glances back at her intently. He offers an arm, hoping she can come underneath to support him as they both walk to the bed. ]
You know I cherish the people I care about. The people I… love.
[ And there’s a more deliberate, lingering look. ]
But I’m no good to anyone dead. No good having almost made it out of a stupid risk I could have avoided.
I’m the one who should be sorry, Ann. Not you.
[ Now, he cracks something of a wistful smirk. ]
Who’d have thought you’d blow my mind again, huh?
Guess what went down at my Palace deserved a sequel.