Chapter Text
“Please, have a seat.” Bruce motioned to the couch in the family’s favorite sitting room while he took his usual chair. He raised an eyebrow at the refreshments already set out on the coffee table, but knowing Alfred, he really shouldn’t be surprised. There was a stack of papers on the side table by his chair as well. The top one he could see was a printed copy of his foster license. He really shouldn’t be surprised by Alfred after all these years.
“Thank you,” Sharon nodded politely as she sat down, crossing her legs and pulling out a clip board with another stack of papers to set on her lap.
Alfred pulled up a chair then too, situating himself across the coffee table so as not to crowd Sharon.
And Bruce had to take a second to recalibrate. Alfred was actually sitting down with them. This was the most relaxed and unprofessional Bruce had ever seen the man.
But then… Alfred did seem to have a soft spot for Tim. Bruce had almost caught him smiling at the boy more than once. Not that Alfred never smiled but it was rare. And he still somehow managed to be professional about it. Against all odds, Tim had managed to break down some of Alfred’s walls. At least a little bit.
Bruce took a deep breath and then cleared his throat.
“Sharon, I’d like to start by apologizing for the… Intensity of the situation.”
Bit of an understatement after Alfred had nearly threatened the women currently sitting in front of them, but Bruce couldn’t completely blame him. Tim was scared. Tim needed a little intensity on his behalf.
“We want to cooperate as much as possible,” Bruce went on, watching Sharon without making it look like he was watching her. “But more than that we want to do what’s best for Tim. I sincerely hope we can manage both together.”
Sharon paused just long enough to look up at Bruce’s face, relaxing slightly when she saw the genuine sincerity he was trying to make clear.
“I hope so too.” Sharon sighed, shuffling through some papers before continuing. “It certainly seems like this is the best place for Tim to be, but it is rarely a good idea for me to promise a child they can stay somewhere before I know for sure. There are legalities we have to go over, paperwork and licenses, formalities to make sure this house is fit for Tim and—”
Sharon paused as Bruce held out his foster license. She took it slowly, looking it over carefully as her expression softened just a little bit more.
“I consider Dick and Jason my sons,” Bruce started, taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t imagine life without them, and this is their home. But neither of them are legally mine. I’ve been fostering Dick for five years now, Jason for a year and a half. I assure you, all of that was done legally, I wouldn’t risk my sons’ safety to cut corners. But it may speed up the process for Tim.”
Bruce watched as Sharon took the paper from him slowly, her eyes tracking down the page as the last bits of tension fell from her shoulders. Then she laughed, quiet and light, but genuine and relieved.
“Yes, Bruce,” she started, making a few notes on her paperwork. “This will certainly speed up the process.”
“Great!” Bruce grinned, a small, usually undetectable piece of his Brucie persona coming to the surface. The piece of himself he’d built the persona around. “I’m sure there are several things we will need to address, tour of the house, make sure it’s safe for the boy, paperwork to be filled out, all that. We’ll be happy to cooperate with whatever you need.”
“Of course,” Sharon nodded as she began gathering all the paperwork that would need to be filled out and handed the stack to Bruce. There was a lot to do yet before Sharon could sign off on Tim’s continued stay, but nothing they couldn’t do in the next few hours.
Bruce was confident Tim would be legally placed in their custody by the end of the day. Even if he hated the circumstances and how much it took for him to see the truth, he couldn’t be happier. Tim was here, and he was safe.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Proud of you, Baby Bird.” Dick smiled, holding Tim tight as the sick little baby bird closed his eyes again and snuggled into Dick’s chest. And Dick absolutely melted.
“Yeah, and no one’s taking you anywhere.” Jason added from somewhere on his left. “This is where you belong, Replacement.”
Dick couldn’t agree more. He was never letting his baby bird go ever again. He’d die for this kid if that’s what it took. Tim was safe here. Dick squeezed him tight and felt Tim relax even more, which had Dick melting all over again.
He smiled and leaned back against the headboard, getting comfortable before what would inevitably be a long wait. Tim looked about to fall asleep and Dick wasn’t about to let go of him before he woke up, so he might as well make the most of it. Not that it took much, the baby bird was snuggly, that was the best gift Dick could ask for. Though next time he could do without Tim having to be sick for it…
Still though. He was going to enjoy it and make sure Tim was as comfortable and safe as he could possibly be.
Jason seemed to have the same idea as he grabbed the book he’d been reading and settled near the end of the bed—between Tim and the door—before opening the book and continuing to quietly read.
It didn’t take long before Tim’s breathing evened out, for which Dick was glad. He ran his fingers through the baby bird’s hair and leaned his head back against the headboard, listening to Jason read about some sort of fight between Cesario and Sir Andrew. Or was it Sebastian and Sir Andrew? He hadn’t really been paying attention, but the background noise was calming. And nice to know Jason was keeping watch.
Until the light in the room changed behind Dick’s eyelids and Jason trailed off. The door had been opened. Someone else was in the room.
But they were impossibly silent, which meant either Bruce or Alfred. Or both. And Jason was quiet now but not panicked, so everything was still safe.
Dick didn’t see a point in shifting and risking waking Tim, so he didn’t. Just kept running his fingers through his hair.
“Sharon’s gone,” Bruce whispered, just loud enough for them to hear. “We got all the paperwork done, she approved Tim staying with us for the time being and headed back to the office to do what she needs to set that in stone. Tim’s not going anywhere.”
Dick smiled, curling around the baby bird—his new official foster brother—just a little bit more. No one was taking him anywhere.
He could hear Jason shifting at the end of the bed, probably turning to look back at Tim, which was confirmed a second later when Dick heard his voice, whispered but clearly directed at them.
“Good.”
There was a finality and darkness to that single word that Dick had almost never heard from Jason. The kind of tone that made him fear for anyone on the receiving end of Jason’s wrath. Little Wing was usually explosive, expressive and dramatic like the theater kid he was. Dick didn’t like it when he was quiet and cold. Calculating in a way that spoke volumes of the mountains he would burn.
If Dick was being honest, it was terrifying in a way few other things were.
“Who leaves a seven-year-old home alone for—”
“—eight.”
Dick barely stopped himself from jumping and startling Tim, who was apparently still awake. He opened his eyes and looked down at his bundle who hadn’t moved an inch, still snuggled and breathing deeply like he was asleep. No wonder he drove Jason crazy those few months, relaxed was indistinguishable from asleep, even with Dick holding him with his finger quite literally on the baby bird’s pulse.
“Huh?” Dick whispered, not quite convinced it was actually Tim who had spoken.
“Eight,” he repeated, Dick confirming it was him when he saw Tim’s lips move with the words. “I’m eight.”
Nobody responded for a few seconds, all three of them processing the new information. Dick had been almost certain Tim was seven…
“When did you turn eight?” Dick whispered, not quite convinced he even wanted to know the answer.
Tim shrugged, then coughed, then poked out his hand from the tangle of limbs to feel around for his water—which Jason quickly put in his hand. He took a sip and composed himself before reaching to set the water back on the end table which was much too far away. So Jason took it instead. And then Tim curled back up again.
“Tim?” Dick whispered, not convinced the baby bird hadn’t actually fallen asleep this time, but not convinced he hadn’t either.
“Friday,” Tim mumbled, then tensed as Dick did.
Dick mumbled a curse under his breath—in French so Tim would be less likely to pick it up if he heard—and forced himself to relax even as Tim shifted to look up.
“Sorry, Baby Bird…” Dick hurried to calm him, gently running his fingers through his hair. “It’s ok, I’m just surprised is all.”
Surprised and furious… But the baby bird didn’t need to know that. He seemed to accept the answer and closed his eyes again, clearly exhausted.
Dick waited a few moments before looking up to meet Bruce and Jason’s eyes.
Friday.
Tim’s birthday was Friday. Game night. That’s why he’d come. That’s why he’d ventured out of the house that night when he clearly wasn’t supposed to. It had been his birthday. The baby bird didn’t want to spend it alone. And they had no idea.
Bruce looked horrified. And Jason looked seconds from murder.
Dick couldn’t agree with them more.
He turned back to Tim and whispered, keeping his voice light and calm.
“Aww, you should have told us, Baby Bird! We would have made it so special!”
They still could. After Tim got better. They’d throw him the best birthday party they could.
But Tim just smiled.
“You did…” he mumbled, actually close to sleep this time. Dick hoped anyway. “It was the best....”
The best. They hadn’t even known it was his birthday and it was still the best.
Dick frowned as he watched Tim’s smile grow more loopy as he maybe fell asleep for real. They hadn’t known it was his birthday, didn’t do anything special, and Tim got horribly sick because of it. But he was still sitting here, curled up in blankets and happier than Dick could remember seeing him.
And that made it so much worse.
Dick pulled him just a little tighter. He’d never let anyone forget his baby bird’s birthday again.