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Timothy Jackson Drake never expected love.
He would never say that -to anyone- because he knew how it sounded. He also knew it was easy to judge situations from the outside. If any of the people who would judge him or his parents for that lived their lives, they would probably understand that it was a lot more complicated than it seemed.
His parents weren’t bad people. They were business people. Nothing they did or said or didn’t do or say was meant to be taken personally. It was just what was best for their business.
Most days he was pretty sure they’d had him simply because it was good for business to have an heir to keep it going once they were unable, rather than out of any genuine desire to raise a child. He tried desperately not to be hurt by that knowledge. After all, it wasn’t personal. It was business. He just took it a little personally sometimes because he was still a child. Once his brain was fully developed, he’d understand better. He was sure of it (or at least, his dad seemed sure of it).
Jack and Janet Drake fulfilled their duties as parents. They sent their son to the best schools. They had nannies or babysitters to look after his needs until he was old enough to look after himself. Even then, they hired maids to clean up the house (which was far too big and required far too much work for one person to take care of, let alone a kid) and keep the kitchen stocked. They had their bills set to auto-pay so nothing was ever cut off if their business travels were extended longer than expected. Tim was never without shelter, food, water, or heat.
Between the school staff, said past caretakers, and the current maids -plus 911 and the like- he always had a competent adult he could contact in case of an emergency, even while his parents were often away on business. Even when they were completely incommunicado.
His former caretakers fulfilled their duties well (some better than others, naturally). They took care of him and taught him to care for himself in the process. They helped him with his homework when he needed it. They took his temperature and gave him medicine when he was sick. They also taught him things like table manners and proper hosting, so he’d be able to thrive in high society when he got old enough.
When he was little, he sometimes mistook that for love. He knew better now. They’d done their job and it wasn’t their job to love him. It was just a business arrangement with his parents so they didn’t have to deal with him when they were working or traveling (which was usually work related anyway).
The staff at his boarding schools also fulfilled their duties. Tim was well educated. He understood all the rules. He was housed and fed as required. There were nurses on staff in case he got ill or injured. There were supervisors, hall monitors, assorted emergency procedures and drills, and metal detectors to keep him safe. Again, their job wasn’t to love him. It was yet another business arrangement; his parents paid tuition so they took care of him as required.
When Tim started training to be the new Robin, that was really all he expected. Batman needed a Robin. Jason was gone. Dick was Nightwing by then and couldn’t go back, no matter how much he loved Bruce. So, Dick would train Tim. He would teach him what he needed to know in order to be a good partner for Batman.
Tim knew Dick Grayson was a good person. A kind person. A cheerful person. A hero in every way.
He knew Dick would be nice about training him, but he still only expected the older boy to fulfill his duties. After all, while no contracts had been signed or money had traded accounts, it was still something of a business arrangement. Tim knew how to operate in such an arrangement. There was no way he was going to fail to fulfill his own duties, especially when it meant letting Dick, Alfred, and Bruce (and hell, all of Gotham) down.
Especially when it meant letting down the memory of Jason Todd.
But Tim never expected love.
Not even from Dick Grayson.
Even when Dick started offering proud little smiles when Tim got something right. Even when Dick started looking at him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he let him in on some secret or another. Even when Dick started affectionately ruffling his hair or patting his shoulder when they parted ways after training. Even when Dick started calling to check on him after any big case or incident with Bruce. Even when Dick started asking after his life away from them.
Tim never expected love.
He told himself not to read anything into the actions. It wouldn’t do any good to get his hopes up with unrealistic expectations. He was happy. Dick was happy. Batman had Robin again, and Bruce was doing all the better for it. Alfred seemed happier. Jason would be happy to know his family was okay after his passing. Tim didn’t need anything more.
But Dick started talking to him about things that had no bearing on him being Robin. He started checking in on him even when nothing of note seemed to be going on. He started inviting Tim over to his place for no apparent reason. The older boy’s smiles and easy affection became more and more common, until Tim no longer thought anything of being touched by him, despite how rare such contact was in his life.
Then one day, Tim was at Dick’s apartment (for no reason other than Dick had invited him over), playing a video game with the older boy and giggling at a story Dick was telling, when Oracle contacted Nightwing. When she asked him who was there, Dick answered with a casual tone and easy smile. “Little brother.”
And Oracle simply continued speaking to him, not asking for any clarification. As if there was nothing odd about that description and only one person Dick could possibly be referring to.
Tim froze. He was pretty sure time itself froze for a few seconds. At least, that was what it felt like.
Tim considered it could have just been a code the two had set up previously that he was unaware of. Except that didn’t make much sense. Dick Grayson’s only brother was deceased. If someone overheard Dick Grayson mention his little brother being there, it would draw attention and raise questions. Barbara had currently contacted him as Oracle, so the connection had to be secure against their secret identities. There was no reason not to say ‘Robin’. If Batman was listening in, it would probably be kinder not to say his little brother was there.
The most logical conclusion was that was simply how Dick saw Tim. As his little brother. Not as a trainee or his father’s partner. Not as an obligation or duty to be fulfilled. Not even as a friendly acquaintance or work associate.
And he had apparently seen him that way long enough that Barbara already knew of it. She also seemed to think nothing of it, despite the fact that there was really only one reason to make such a huge leap from ‘kid it’s my job to train’ to ‘my little brother’.
“Hang on a sec,” Dick interrupted Oracle, then he turned to Tim with a warm but concerned look in his eyes. He spoke quietly, so Oracle wouldn’t pick up his words. “You okay?”
Tim nodded. He was surprised. Stunned would probably be a fair word for what he currently felt. But he was certainly okay beyond that. Better than okay, in fact.
Because Tim loved Dick. Had pretty much since the beginning of his training. He hadn’t expected the older boy to love him back, but if Dick was casually referring to him as his little brother to his friends, then he had to. He wouldn’t use that term lightly. Not after losing Jason.
The shock wore off, and Tim...felt too much. He was overjoyed. He was amazed. He was feeling a little guilty, too. He was still more than a little surprised.
He was loved.
He was also a little embarrassed to find his eyes watering. He blinked and cleared his throat. “I- Er, I’m gonna make some tea. Do you mind?”
“No. Course not.” Dick still looked concerned. Actually, he looked more concerned. “Make enough for two. I’ll be with you a bit, ‘kay?”
“Of course.” He’d been planning to make enough for Dick, too, just in case he’d wanted some. He always did, if he was making tea somewhere and Dick was there, too. And Dick always did the same for him.
He’d always just thought of it as good manners, but he guessed that was something brothers do.
Tim headed to Dick’s kitchen, which he knew as well as his own from how often he’d been over, and quietly pulled himself together as he made tea.
As he went through all the steps Alfred had taught him to make a ‘proper’ tea, Tim smiled. The nicest and coolest person he had probably ever known -the original Robin, and the person tied to his earliest clear memory- loved him. All the care and effort Dick had shown him weren’t just part of his duties. They were the actions of a loving big brother.
Dick must have rushed things along with Oracle, because he arrived much quicker than one would expect with the casual way they’d been speaking before Tim left them. The tea bags had only just finished seeping. Tim added honey to his and milk and sugar to Dick’s, the way he liked. He also took one of Dick's Lactaid pills out for him.
“Thanks.” Dick smiled as he took the pill and then watched Tim over his cup as he sipped his tea. “You look better.”
Tim felt his cheeks heat up in a way that had nothing to do with the tea. Most people probably didn’t become shocked and overwhelmed upon realizing they were loved. He couldn’t explain why he had that reaction to Dick -the older boy would probably think his parents were terrible people- but he could at least apologize for the awkwardness. “Yeah…sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize.” Dick reached out to rub Tim’s upper arm with one hand. “You looked kinda overwhelmed. You want to talk about…whatever that was?”
Tim shook his head. “I was just working something out. In my head.” He smiled at the older boy. At his big brother. “I’m good now.”
Dick returned the smile, looking relieved. “That’s good. The offer’s still open though, if you decide you want to talk about it later.”
Tim shook his head again, but his smile remained. “Thanks, Dick.” For asking; for caring; for loving me… “For everything.”
The older boy didn’t lose his smile but it did take on a slightly baffled edge. “My pleasure.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late. Want to stay here? My sofa is your sofa.”
Tim’s father was out of town on business (again). He had long outgrown the need for a nanny or sitter. Mrs Mac would have came and went already. He had no school the next day. Batman was following his own case and didn’t need Robin that evening. No one would know where he slept that night either way. No one would care where he was in the slightest.
No one except for Dick.
That was really all that mattered to his little brother.
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
Later, Dick brought Tim an old shirt and some bedding for the sofa. Then, he gave him a hug. “Good night, Timmy.”
“Good night.” Tim returned the embrace, and offered a quiet admission he would have held back before the day’s realization. “I love you, Dick.”
If Dick was surprised or embarrassed or uncomfortable or the like, he didn’t show it. All he did was hug Tim tighter. “I love you, too.” He sounded happy.
Tim was happy, too.
As he slipped into his big brother’s over-sized shirt and settled under the warm quilt he’d brought him, Tim wondered if maybe it was time he started raising his expectations. Just a little. Just where his family was concerned. If maybe it wasn’t too much to expect love.
He’d consider that after Jack returned.
Until then, he would just enjoy having a big brother who loves him.