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Tim was nine when he started going out late at night to take pictures of Batman and Robin from the shadows of Gotham. Combined with his genius intellect and observation skills, he knew they were Bruce Wayne and his ward Dick Grayson.
And boy, did he have a mini crush on the acrobat who performed his quadruple somersault just for little Timmy.
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There was a new Robin. He was brash, more impulsive and reckless. The new guy even fought way differently from Dick. When Tim learned Bruce got a new ward/foster son, he knew.
Robin #2 was Jason Todd-Wayne.
And when little Timothy snapped pictures of the feisty Robin with clear anger issues taking such sweet care of orphans and Crime Alley kids, when he saw how Jason made frightened little kids laugh and smile with his silly antics, his heart bled once again.
Jason wasn't as charismatic or golden as Dick, but he had his own special charm. He wasn't on par with Bruce's detective skills, but he had his street smarts. He fought hard and dirty. Some people looked down on the new Robin. But Tim was fascinated by him. Jason was not like his predecessor or mentor. He was on a whole other level.
He didn't even stand a chance to be honest. It wasn't surprising he gained another crush. But this one was far stronger than what he once felt for Dick, heightened by the near hero-worship he had for Jason.
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Jason Todd was dead. And Batman was losing it. He was spiraling faster and faster into a destructive path.
He had to do something.
And so little Timothy Drake became the 3rd Robin.
He wanted to keep Jason's memory alive, wanted to do the Robin mantle right for the boy he loved and admired.
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.
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It was a few years later when the impossible happened and Jason was alive —albeit running around Gotham as a raging murdering criminal named Red Hood— but he was alive.
Tim couldn't help feeling giddy at the news, heart beating so loud in his chest as suppressed feelings came to light, his crush from the past buried so deeply when Jason died coming back with a vengeance.
His favorite Robin was back.
His hero was back.
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His hero tried to kill him.
Multiple times.
Almost succeeding a few times.
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Jason hated him.
Absolutely hated him.
Like utterly fucking despised his very existence hated him.
Tim was about 99% pretty sure Jason's hate towards him rivaled the Joker's. And that bastard beat him with a crowbar and left him to die in an explosion.
He knew it. Jason was right. He was nothing but a replacement in this family that didn't want him. They didn't choose him. He forced his way in. They didn't love him. He forced them to take pity on a little kid who knew their secrets. They didn't care about him. He didn't deserve Robin. At all.
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And if Tim went home and pulled out albums of all the pictures he took of Batman and Robin. If he flipped through all the pictures of smiling-happy-carefree Jason saving people and helping Gotham with a heart so big. If tears were falling down as he mourned what a naive and innocent child he was back then. If tears kept falling down his face as he tried to shove back the stupid feelings he felt for his favorite Robin, tried to get rid of a crush that was valiantly ripped from him so many times by the boy he once admired.
If for once in his life, he wanted to take pity on himself.
Well, no one has to know but him.
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.
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People were right when they said you should never meet your heroes in real life.