Tim Drake oneshots

Title: The Queen’s Gambit

Setting:
Another night in Gotham, but this time, Red Robin isn’t patrolling alone. He’s moving through the city’s crumbling outskirts alongside Red Hood—Jason Todd. The two brothers in arms have formed an uneasy partnership for the night, keeping an eye on recent developments involving Gotham’s latest rogue, Basileus.

Basileus has been making a name for himself quickly. Robberies, extortion, political blackmail—his rise through Gotham’s criminal underworld has been swift and calculated, drawing the attention of everyone, from the Bat-family to the GCPD.

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Red Hood (Jason Todd): (glancing at Tim as they perch on a rooftop)
"Honestly, I don’t get why you’re taking this guy so seriously. Basileus? Dude dresses like a reject from some medieval fantasy."

Red Robin (Tim Drake): (tight-lipped, watching the streets below)
"He’s not a joke, Jason. This guy’s methodical. Every move he makes is calculated. He hasn’t slipped up once, and that means he’s dangerous."

Jason scoffs, loading his pistols and checking the rounds.

Red Hood:
"Calculated? I’ll show him what calculation looks like when I put a bullet between his eyes."

Red Robin: (sharply)
"No killing, Jason. We need to take him down, not make a mess."

Red Hood: (smirking)
"Yeah, yeah. No promises."

Suddenly, a faint, eerie voice echoes from the alleyway below, calm and controlled—familiar to Tim but unmistakably colder.

Basileus:
"Ah, how delightful. The Red Robin and the Red Hood. Brothers, yet so very different. What a fascinating dynamic."

Tim’s heart skips a beat, and he grips his staff tighter. Jason immediately points his guns toward the source of the voice, ready for a fight. Basileus steps into the dim light, flanked by a small group of heavily armed henchmen, their uniforms bearing a chessboard insignia. Basileus himself, however, stands out, his black and gold attire now more elaborate than before, exuding an air of control and power. He’s no longer just an obsessive stalker—he’s a true player in Gotham’s underworld now.

Red Hood: (grinning behind his mask)
"Oh, this is gonna be fun."

Red Robin:
"Wait. Let’s see what he wants first."

Jason rolls his eyes but lowers his weapons slightly. Basileus steps forward, his eyes locked on Tim, the smirk on his face unsettling.

Basileus: (voice smooth, almost reverent)
"Timothy. Or should I say… Red Robin? It’s been too long. I’ve been following your every move, watching as you navigate Gotham’s chaos. You truly are remarkable."

Red Robin: (keeping his tone steady)
"Get to the point, Basileus. You didn’t bring backup just to flatter me."

Basileus’s smirk widens as he pulls something from the folds of his cloak—a sleek, black chess queen piece, carved out of onyx. He holds it up between his fingers, admiring it in the moonlight.

Basileus:
"Indeed. The point is simple, Red Robin. I’ve seen the way you work, your brilliance in the field, the way you think several moves ahead of your opponents. You’re wasted with your family, with Gotham’s so-called heroes. They don’t see you for what you truly are."

Red Hood: (cutting in, voice dripping with sarcasm)
"Oh, here it comes. Let me guess—you want him to join your chess club?"

Basileus doesn’t even glance at Jason. His focus remains entirely on Tim.

Basileus:
"Not just a member of my ‘club,’ Red Hood. I want him to stand by my side. You see, Tim… I am the King of this city now. I’ve risen to power faster than anyone else in Gotham’s history. But what is a King without his Queen?"

He steps closer, the black chess queen in his hand extended toward Tim.

Basileus:
"Join me, Red Robin. Be my Queen. Together, we will control this city, not through brute force but through sheer intellect, strategy, and precision. Every piece will fall into place. Gotham will be ours."

Tim stares at the chess piece for a long moment, his mind racing. He knows Basileus is dangerous, but there’s something in his offer that sends a chill down Tim’s spine. Basileus doesn’t just see him as a threat—he sees him as an equal. An obsession.

Red Robin: (coldly)
"You really think I’d betray everything I stand for just to play your sick little game?"

Basileus: (his voice still soft, almost coaxing)
"I don’t ask for betrayal, Tim. I ask for evolution. You’re smarter than this city, smarter than your family. You belong in a position of real power. A Queen on the chessboard isn’t just a partner, she’s the most powerful piece of all. Isn’t that what you want? To rise above the rest, to control the game?"

Jason can’t take it anymore. He raises his pistols again, his patience wearing thin.

Red Hood:
"Okay, enough of this psycho monologue. I’m ending this now."

Basileus’s henchmen immediately aim their weapons, but Basileus raises his hand, signaling them to hold. His eyes never leave Tim’s.

Basileus:
"Think carefully, Red Robin. The game has only just begun. Choose your next move wisely."

Tim grips his bo staff, the tension in the air thick. Jason is waiting for him to make the call—attack or retreat. But Tim knows Basileus isn’t bluffing. This is just the start, and rushing in could spell disaster.

Red Robin: (steady voice)
"You want a game, Basileus? Fine. But I’m not your Queen. I’m the player who’ll take you off the board."

Basileus smiles, not angry or disappointed, but… pleased. He pockets the chess piece and steps back.

Basileus:
"As you wish. But remember, every King eventually falls. And when that time comes, I’ll be waiting for you to take your rightful place."

Before either Tim or Jason can react, Basileus and his henchmen vanish into the shadows once more, leaving behind only the faintest trace of his voice lingering in the air.

Red Hood: (growling)
"That guy seriously needs to be taken down."

Red Robin: (staring at where Basileus disappeared)
"Yeah. But not tonight. He’s got something bigger planned. And when he moves, we’ll be ready."

Jason watches him for a moment, frowning.

Red Hood:
"You're not seriously thinking about what he said, right? All that Queen stuff?"

Tim shakes his head, though a flicker of doubt passes over his face.

Red Robin:
"No. But he’s not done. And neither are we."

As the two brothers prepare to move, Tim glances down, noticing a small, black chess piece where Basileus had stood—a knight this time. Another message. Another move.

Tim pockets the piece, steeling himself. This game was far from over.