He struggled against the restraints, hissing and scowling. "Come on, just let me free! I won’t do anything, you know I have no weapons!"

It wasn’t often that Tim wasn’t underestimated—sure, he looked like a weak twig who would get thrown away by the wind and be lost to the sea, but surprisingly, he was strong. Trained by Bruce and then skilled with a bō stick and multiple refined weapons from his childhood, Tim was capable of defending himself and then some.

So often, he used that underestimation to his advantage—if he was left and presumed too weak to fight more, he’d strike, if the ties were done badly, he’d break free and ambush.

But when he came to a pirate ship under an alternate identity for intel, under Bruce’s command, he hadn’t been trusted for a second. The captain was smart, and immediately saw past his lies, which, in all honestly, was impressive.

When a fight had started, between him and the captain only, he thought he’d use his tactic again, yet this time there was no mercy. Tim was surprised and down within the minute, and subsequently tied by tight rope bounds. So there he sat, panting, eyes wide, slumped on the floor of the captains quarters. He’d been dragged to the stern once he was tied, and suddenly he was being questioned.