#i love the idea of tim being the reincarnation of odysseus

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake: Haunted by the Hero He Once Was

Tim Drake doesn’t sleep much these days. Not because of patrols or late-night cases—though those still keep him plenty busy—but because every time he closes his eyes, he’s dragged back to that life. Odysseus.

The memories of who he used to be haunt him.

The sound of swords clashing, the screams of battle, the endless nights staring at the stars from a ship lost at sea. The guilt that weighs heavy on his chest for every life lost, every sacrifice made. It feels too real to be just a dream, too visceral to shake off when he wakes up drenched in sweat.

But it’s not just the memories. It’s the knowledge. The knowing that he was once the man who tricked gods, toppled empires, and survived the worst the world—and Olympus—had to offer. There’s a part of him that remembers being invincible, outsmarting fate itself.

And now?

Now he’s just Tim. Gotham’s forgotten son. Not even the “golden boy” of the Bats, but the one who’s always had to claw his way into the family. The one who’s always had to prove he belonged. The weight of being a mortal again, with all the fragility that comes with it, feels unbearable.

Sometimes, when he looks at the Bat-Signal lighting up the sky, all he can think about is the beacon of Ithaca—waiting, calling him home after years of war. But Gotham isn’t home. Not really. It’s a battleground, just like Troy. A place where people bleed and die for causes that never seem to end.

And here he is, trapped in it again. Only this time, there’s no escaping the battlefield. There’s no homecoming. No happy ending.

The worst part? The bats don't know. He hasn’t told them. How could he? “Hey guys, by the way, I was Odysseus in a past life, and the guilt of everything I did, every choice I made, is eating me alive.” Yeah, that would go over well.

So, he stays quiet. Carries the burden like he always does. Alone.

But it gets harder. Each day, the memories get stronger, more vivid. The temptation to just... run. To leave it all behind like he’s done before.

But Gotham isn’t Troy. And the bats aren't his army.

They’re his family. Even when they don’t see him. Even when he feels like he doesn’t belong.

Still, sometimes, late at night, when the city’s quiet and the weight of two lifetimes presses down on him, Tim wonders if maybe, just maybe, he was never meant to have peace. Not as Odysseus. Not as Tim.

Because gods and heroes? They don’t get happy endings.