Tim sits near the ledge and looks out at the city. His city. Not Tim's, not now, but Batman's. And it isn't Dick he thinks of when he thinks that name. He wanted Dick to pick up the pieces, sure, but only because someone had to and he wasn't ready to do it himself yet. Maybe someday, maybe if Bruce really died. Since Bruce isn't actually dead, Tim won't think about it.
But when he thinks "Batman," he thinks "Bruce." He knows exactly what anyone else would say to him, but he's past caring. He's been past caring for awhile now. His crazy mission matters more than whatever might go on down there in that darkness.
The darkness is almost comforting. Gotham is familiar, although it haunts him a little. Being here is like being in a graveyard. It's better now that Batman and Robin have some small measure of control, he supposes, but it's not his job to care about that anymore. Someday, he'll pick those pieces back up and stop being a disgrace. Someday when they all see that he's right. Hopefully it won't be too long, but things like this take more time than he wants them to.
Then there's that business with the League. He might not live through that, and he may be overambitious, but he's not stupid. Taking out the League of Assassins isn't a small task, and it won't distract him from his real goal. Even if he knows things have gone horribly, stupidly, insanely wrong, he's never been one to give up.
He had dreams, and he followed them. He got everything he ever wanted, and then he got a dead family to boot.
He supposes it could be worse.
He could be Jason.
Another time, he might have smiled at that, but not now. He doesn't have it in him to smile, and he's thought more than once that he might have forgotten how. Now he has Bruce's legacy and a feeling like he had when he was too young to really know what he'd gotten into. Batman isn't dead, any more than this city is dead. Batman is out there, somewhere, and he'll find him.
He just has to get off this rooftop and go back to looking. He also has to hope Ra's has absolutely no idea that he's back in Gotham right now. He doesn't want the League here, doesn't want Ra's's crazy offspring facing off against the League. Or maybe...
Well. As entertaining as that thought is, he doesn't really want the little brat facing off against the League. If nothing else, Dick would never forgive him, and would never forgive himself. Dick doesn't need that kind of baggage; he's got enough to deal with.
Tim stands up, and he feels the weight of the costume around him. Not just the leather; he's almost gotten used to that. But the weight of it, and of all the reasons he took it.
He'll have to go get changed and head back to the airport. Nothing moves fast enough for him, nothing goes as planned, but even so...part of him wishes he could stay here in this city, just for a little while.
The thought passes, and he moves, as quietly as he can manage, across familiar rooftops. This time, he ignores the sirens when they come. If he follows them now, he'll never get out. Let Dick answer them. It's his city now, isn't it? If only temporarily.