Summary: With his mother dead, his father dead and now Bruce dead Tim really couldn't take it anymore. As he tries to save a girl's life, both from muggers and herself, he contemplates if his own life is really worth living. Rated for discussion of and attempts of suicide.
Rating: T for topic matter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman.

Tim quietly crept into the med bay of the Bat Cave. Slowly he opened one of the cabinets, praying it wouldn't squeak. It didn't. His eyes shifted until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the bottle of pill and turned on his heel, ready to make his departure.

"Were you injured, Master Timothy?" Alfred asked. He must've stuck in the room while Tim was looking in the medicine cabinet.

Tim felt like he was a deer caught in headlights. He looked down at the bottle in his head then back up at Alfred. "Uh-huh," he said and nodded vigorously.

"Must be bad if you need pain killers," Alfred said, "Make sure to get plenty of rest."

"Will do," Tim said and took off past him. He ran up the stairs to the manor above. He was glad when he didn't see Dick or Damian. He didn't want to talk to anything. He just wanted to take the pills and go to sleep. To sleep forever.

It had been too much. His mom's death. His dad's death. Now Bruce's. And Damian had become his replacement in Dick's eyes. Tim just couldn't deal with it anymore.

Tim ran up the stairs and into his room. He grabbed a bottle of water off his desk and opened the pill bottle. He poured the pills into his hand. He stared at them. He tried to put them in his mouth, to swallow them, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He sighed and put them back in the bottle. Maybe another day.

The next morning Dick asked Tim about his injury. Tim assumed Alfred had told him about the pills. He lied and said he felt much better. When night fell Tim once again donned his Red Robin costume.

Tim sat on the edge of a building, patrolling for crime. While he waited his thoughts turned to Dick. Why had Dick abandoned him in his time of need? Could Dick see he was in pain? Why didn't Dick love him anymore?

For a split second Tim contemplated throwing himself off the building and ending it all. Dick didn't want him around anymore so what did he have to live for. Dick had Damian.

Damian. Just thinking about the brat got his blood pumping. And just in time. Down below Tim spotted some muggers trying to steal a teenager's purse. He flew off the building and glided into one of their heads. The other one, who had successfully grabbed the purse dropped it and took off into a sprit. Tim growled. That had been anti-climactic.

Tim went over to pick up the purse. The girl lunged for it.

"Whoa, I was just going to give it back to you," Tim said. Then he realized she must've had something illegal. He looked the girl up and down. She looked around his age, either in late high school or early college. She wasn't wearing revealing or disheveled clothes so he ruled out prostitute, drug addict and gang banger. Then what was it. "What's in the purse?" he asked.

"It's…it's…"

Tim gave her his best bat-glare.

"I'm not a druggie," she said, resigning. Tim grabbed the purse from her and pulled out a syringe, probably filled with heroin.

"You're dealer screwed up," Tim said. "This much will kill a man twice your size."

The girl looked down at her feet. "I heard it was it was a painless way to go."

Tim looked at her. "You were going to kill yourself?" he said.

The girl looked up. "You don't understand." There were tears in her eyes. "My mom died a few months ago and my dad's about to get remarried. And now I realized Dad was cheating on his cancer stricken-wife with that bitch. My grades are slipping. I got kicked off the softball team. Everything's just gone to shit." The girl began to sob uncontrollably. Tim could think of any else other than pull her into a hug.

"I lost my acceptance to Harvard," she said. "My dad hates me. He told me I'm worthless and ungrateful. He'd rather me be dead. Then he could start his new life with that whore."

Tim patted the girl's back. "Hey, this isn't the solution. I know things suck right now but they'll get better."

The girl pulled away and wiped her tears. She shook her head. "You don't know what it's like."

Tim put both his hand on her shoulders. He looked her in the eyes, although he wondered if that actually had a positive effect on her through his cowl. "Actually I do. Last night I had the pills in my hand. I almost swallowed them. But I couldn't do that to my brother. And you know you can't do this to your dad. As horrible as things seem right now, as much as you're convinced he doesn't love you deep down you know he does. And that's why you have to keep on fighting."

The girl started to cry again. "I'm too weak to fight," she said.

"You don't have to do it alone," Tim said. "Let you Dad help you through this. Let him in and tell him know how you feel. I'll walk you back to your place. But I'll be checking up on you again. And next time I see you I don't want it to be in the obits."

The girl giggled, though the sadness of it shown through. "I thought you vigilantes were supposed to be mean and hate evil-doers."

Tim stroked her hair. "You're not evil."

She smiled. "Thank you, um…?"

"Red Robin."

"Original," she teased. "I'm Lacy. Lacy Cartwright. I live a few blocks away from here." Tim started to walk her home. "Hey, Red Robin," she said when they were in front of her house. They stopped on the sidewalk in front of it so Tim could focus on her. She shook her head. "Don't let me do it. I don't want to die, not really. But sometimes I get those thoughts and I can't stop myself." She looked up, her eyes once again filled with tears. "Don't let me."

"I promise you Lacy that we're going to get through this. Both of us."

She smiled once more, kissed Tim on the cheek and ran into the house behind them. Tim really hoped he could keep that promise.

"Hey Dick," Tim said when he entered the Bat Cave. He had already changed into his civilian clothing.

"What's up?" Dick said. He was sitting at the computer wearing his Batman costume with the cowl down.

"Could we talk?" Tim said.

Dick looked at him curiously. "Everything okay?"

Tim frowned. "No, Dick. Everything's not okay." His bottom lip trembled and Tim feel to his knees sobbing. Dick scooped him up into a hug and rocked him back and forth. Everything might have been so wrong at that moment but at least with Dick's help everything would one day get better. Or so he hoped.

A/N: I'd really like to say that the only reason I write about the subject of death is to deal with my own depression and play out scenarios that I refuse to allow myself to become depressed enough to contemplate. However if you are contemplating suicide please follow Tim and Lacy's example and tell someone. Yes I know I sound like an after school special I have dealt with suicidal friends and it's scary. It's one of the reasons I need to write fics like this, so I can understand my friend's motives and actions. Please get the help you need.

A/N2: Alright, and back to our normally scheduled author note. I hope you liked my fic and you understand why I wrote it and that it's not me making light of a very serious situation.

Hey, after school special commentator. Wrong author note!

Anyway, thank you for reading and please review.