Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started when he was almost too young to remember.

Do not speak, unless you are spoken to.

Sit still through this whole meeting.

Do not let them notice you.

It was a game.

Can you find you way own way home from the first grade classroom?

Can you be the man of the house while we are gone?

Tim won almost all the time. His reward was praise and approval and more games.

You don’t need a nanny.

You don’t need to call us.

You can do it all on your own, right?

Yes, Tim was great at the games. As he grew, his determination increased as well. Not because his parents were home less and less so their praise became more sparse. No, not that.

Tim was just used to winning now. He was a Drake after all. Drakes were winners.  

Tim was in class when he saw the email notification pop up on his phone.

He tried not to grin at the screen, which was partially hidden under his textbook. His teacher had given up on keeping his students from using their phones during class, but as long as Mr. Ward didn’t see the phone, he didn’t bother reprimanding anyone. Tim wouldn’t test his luck, even though his fingers itched with the need to read the latest email from his mom.

An email meant they had service again. It meant she would be updating him on their flight times and when he should be expecting them. It was late May now and they had been gone for nearly three months. The plan was for them to return in early June and be home for a few weeks before taking off to Italy as soon as Tim was done with the semester.

Tim could not wait.

Because the Italy trip wasn’t like their other trips.

Early in the year, his parents had decided that as an early gift for his thirteenth birthday,  they would all take a trip together. Never mind the fact that Tim was actually turning twelve. They had decided he was old enough to go with them! And they were going to spend the whole summer in Europe. Some of it would be business meetings, but his parents had promised they would take him around to see the sights and eat at the best restaurants.

“Not those tourist spots,” his father had said, “the real authentic ones, champ. The ones the locals don’t like to tell you about.”

His father had laughed and clapped his back too hard, but Tim had just grinned from ear to ear.

He felt like he had been waiting all his life for this. He had done his part and won every game. This was the reward he was waiting for.

As soon as class was over, Tim threw his belongings into his bag and rushed into the hallway, phone in hand.

Seeking a bit of quiet, he ducked into the bathroom and tapped at the notification.

Hello Timothy,

Your father and I have some amazing news! The permit that we thought fell through has been approved. We will be going straight to Greece from London in a few days.

Tim blinked, his eyes scanning the rest of the email quickly.

Our family trip will have to be postponed, but I know you will use this time wisely to cultivate experiences and prepare for your future…

The email ended with a recommendation that he look into volunteer experiences to pad out his resume and prepare for college applications. There was also a reminder to be prepared to receive any packages that were sent to the house.

Tim felt his eyes stinging.

It was stupid. He was stupid. He should have known it wasn’t real.

The game recently had been to see how long he could be without their supervision. He was doing well. So they had extended their time.

Tim rubbed at his eyes.

It was a good thing really. He had proven to them that he could be trusted alone. They didn’t need to come back. They didn’t need to pick him up and take him with them. He would take care of himself and be the man of the house, until they returned.

The trip was just postponed. Surely they would go later. Once Tim had proven himself. Maybe when he actually turned thirteen.

Tim quickly left the bathroom and rushed to his next class, his expression perfectly neutral.

He was a Drake.

He always won.

Mrs. Mac forgot to drop off his groceries the first week of June.

He’d been sleeping through many of her Saturday morning drop offs, exhausted from his late night forays into the city, conducting his Batman research. He was just beginning to figure out their patrol routes and now that school was ending soon, Robin would be out more. Tim had to prepare himself, figure out the best vantage points for photos and further study. If he couldn’t be in Italy, then he would at least pass the time with his favorite hobby.

So he had missed Mrs. Mac the last few weeks, and he supposed it was rude, but she never complained.

He was surprised when he forced himself up before 11am, to possibly chat with her, and found she wasn’t there.

Never one to bother adults unnecessarily,  Tim took stock of the pantry and went about the day. She would be by next week. He was sure.

The second Saturday of June arrived and Mrs. Mac still did not show.

It wasn’t bothering an adult if he was checking on her wellbeing? Right? She was an old lady, what if she had fallen or was ill?

Tim found her contact on his phone and pressed the call button. It rang three times before her familiar voice sounded on the other end.

“Oh, Timothy!” She greeted with enthusiasm.

“Hello?” Tim tried not to sound surprised at her casual tone.

“It's so nice to hear from you. Did you see the pictures I sent on the Facebook?"

Mrs. Mac’s son had set up her Facebook account. The woman did not know the difference between posting or sending photos, never mind the fact that Tim didn’t actually have a Facebook account.

“I didn’t-“ Tim started.

“My new granddaughter is just beautiful. I’ve been on the phone all day with everyone. They say she is already so photogenic. Paisley May… she’s so sweet…”

Tim blinked as a memory jogged loose in his brain. Mrs. Mac was going to visit family in Arizona for the summer. Because a new grandbaby was due. Because Tim’s parents were supposed to be back. And then they were supposed to be in Italy together.

“Congratulations,” Tim said. Because it was polite. Mrs. Mac went on and on and then the baby was crying in the background and she was saying her goodbyes before the call abruptly ended. Tim stared dumbly at his phone.

No parents. No Italy. No Mrs. Mac.

He didn’t like the twisting feeling in his chest. It felt like the first pulls of loneliness, but that was stupid. He was used to being alone. Heck, he had been the one to sleep through Mrs. Mac’s last visit at the end of May, apparently. No point in being sad about being alone now.

He could take care of the house by himself. He had a little bit of cash put away for emergencies, he could use that if he really needed to. It was just one more challenge in the game.

Tim turned to look at the pantry. He had some cereal and some pasta, but the shelves were definitely beginning to look bare.

He should probably skip breakfast.

The first day of summer vacation had Tim rushing home to prepare for the night. No parents and no school meant he could indulge his hobby freely. Batman watching as late as he wanted and for as many days as he wanted.

And now that school was out, Robin would be going out a lot more. Tim imagined Jason Todd was excited too. Because if nothing else, Jason loved being Robin. Tim could tell. And he had the photographic evidence to prove it. Jason always had the biggest grin as he swung through the sky.

Maybe Nightwing would be in town too! Tim grinned as he smeared peanut butter across dry crackers. He had run out of bread a few days ago, but the box of saltines he found worked just fine. He carefully packed his makeshift sandwiches in a container where they wouldn’t get crushed and bounded up the stairs to continue getting ready for the night.

He would decide his route, finish packing, and try to take a nap before heading out just as it started to get dark.

It wasn’t Italy with his parents, but Tim would make the most of his summer.

Nights in the city were just starting to heat up. Unfortunately, Tim was dressed all in black and in long-sleeves. He couldn’t risk wearing lighter colors. Being hidden was of the upmost importance after all.

He found himself on top of the tallest building he had access to and then waited for the bats. He passed the time testing out camera settings and sweating through his shirt. It wouldn't be so bad if there was at least a breeze. Tim was fighting with the idea of going home for the night when he heard the familiar sound of a grappling gun.

He peeked over the building’s edge just in time to see a flash of red and green.

Jason Todd was grinning.

Tim couldn’t help but smile too. He couldn’t fly with them, but he could document it. And he could imagine what it would be like, if he could be with them.

That was enough.

Robin landed on a nearby building and he was joined by Batman shortly after. They spoke briefly before swinging off again. Tim got a shot of them both leaping from the rooftop.

Not bad at all. And it was only the first night of summer! Tim was going to get so many pictures.

As he made his way back home, he made more plans for his future visits out into the city. The excitement almost made him forget about his empty house and his dwindling food and that biting edge of loneliness that kept tugging at his ribcage.

Almost. Almost. Almost.

When faced with a near empty pantry and an even emptier fridge, Tim finally sat down to look at his finances. His dad said they would get him a credit card for emergencies, but they hadn’t gotten around to setting that up yet. Tim was given cash for spending money and he knew he was supposed to budget it and make it last.

It was just…

His parents hadn’t been home in so long. It had been ages since he had received some pocket money. If he had known they wouldn’t be home in June, he would have been more careful. He wouldn’t have bought that new lens or given some street kids those burgers that one night.

The childish notion that the game wasn’t fair this time bubbled up. He squashed that feeling down.

Life’s not fair, a mom sounding voice in his head said.

Tim stared at the crumpled bills spread out on his floor.

$184.

Assuming his parents were back in a month, in time for his birthday, that left about $45 for food a week. That wasn’t counting anything else he might need in that time.

Tim wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t one to buy groceries, but he knew that wasn’t enough.

With a sigh, he shoved two twenties into his wallet.

He was going to make due. He would buy the cheapest meals he could. Cups of noodles and some eggs should hold him over. He knew enough about using the stove to heat up cans of soup too.

He would figure it out. He was a Drake.

Tim didn’t get home from batwatching until the sun was just about to come up. He had spent his night scaling fire escapes and rushing over rooftops. He had got some great pictures. But he was exhausted. He managed to change out of his dark clothes and collapse into bed, reveling the feeling of the overhead fan on his overheated skin. A shower was definitely needed, but that could wait. Tim had become nearly nocturnal since school let out and he didn’t mind at all. Nobody was there to stop him.

It wasn’t loneliness. It was freedom.

Tim smiled as he drifted off to sleep, the sun just beginning to filter through the window.

Tim didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was shining brightly outside. He groaned as he rolled over. Maybe he could invest in some blackout curtains?

The $120 stashed away in his drawer disagreed with that thought.

Tim forced himself out of bed and dragged his feet to the ensuite bathroom. He was in desperate need of a shower and then he would go out for some groceries before getting ready for batwatching again tonight.

Tim turned the shower knob and heard the pipes squeak. A bit of water dripped from the shower head, before stopping completely.

He stared blankly before reaching to try again. He blinked as nothing happened. With a sense of dread beginning to creep into his stomach, he turned to the sink and scrambled to turn the faucet on. A few drops fell into the basin and then nothing.

Okay. Okay.

The water was not working. Maybe just something broken in the plumbing, maybe there was some kind of emergency happening that was causing the water to turn off everywhere.

Not a big deal. Not a big deal.

Tim hurried back to his room to search online for answers. He glanced out his window and caught sight of the neighbor’s sprinklers going full blast.

Okay. Maybe just a his house problem.

Still not a big deal.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

His water had been shut off. He had done all the research he could think of, and it was the only thing he had found that matched his situation. Water not running, padlock on a pipe that Tim found out in a kind of box near the street… He was sure that any attempts to contact the homeowners had gone to his parents’ phone or his parents’ assistants. And his parents were out of service so often. They probably never got a message about any issues with the water bill. He almost called his mother’s assistant, but the last time he had tried that during a storm that had knocked out the whole block’s power, his mother had been so angry.

“You just needed to wait for it to come back on. Honestly Timothy, our employees are not being paid to baby you.”

He had not won the game that day.

So Tim did what he did best. He adapted. He cleaned himself up with disposable wipes, put a hat over his gross hair and walked to the nearest store to buy water. Some for drinking and some for washing. He picked up some granola bars on sale too.

$104 left in his stash.

It would be July soon. His parents would be back before he ran out.

Tim was not worried. He could do this.

That night, he briefly wondered if he should skip batwatching, knowing his extracurriculars had him drinking a lot of water and knowing he only had so much to spare.

Tim threw on his dark long-sleeved shirt and tossed some granola bars into his bag.

Batwatching was what made this all worth it.

Tim headed into the city, plans for rationing put aside for the night.

He would figure it out.

Tim watched Batman and Robin swing around the city. He quietly chased after them, taking pictures and childishly imagining what it would be like to fly with them.

When he was out at night, nothing else mattered. Not his parents’ games, not the empty house, not the bare pantries, not the water that wouldn’t come back on.

It was just him and the city and Batman and Robin.

That was all that mattered.

The day the power went out, Tim woke up in a sweat.

Everything in the house was still and stifling. He had stayed up way too late the night before and he woke up from a dream about suffocating only to find his room had heated to what felt like the surface of the sun.  

A heatwave had begun a few days ago and even going out at night was uncomfortable. But if Batman could do it, then Tim could handle it too.

He regretted his decision to follow Batman most of the night, as he stood by his light switch and flipped it on and off.

The room remained dim and unbearably warm.

Tim left his home and went to the closest thrift store to buy second hand basketball shorts and a few loose shirts because nothing he owned was comfortable in the suffocating heat of his house.

He charged his phone at the local library, dropped by the grocery store again, and came home with $70 left in his wallet.  

It was the first day of July. His parent should be home in a few weeks. He was fine.

He didn’t go out Batwatching that night.

Tired, warm and feeling nauseous, he stretched out on the kitchen floor and tried to steal as much coolness from the tiles as he could.

He quietly rolled a flashlight between his hands, flicking it on whenever he felt the darkness  beginning to creep in a little too close.

He didn’t manage to fall asleep until the first rays of the sun began to slip through the kitchen window.

On the floor, in his suffocating house, Tim fell into a restless sleep.

It was too warm to think.

Tim knew he had to go to the store for water and more food, but it was just too hot to move. A few days had gone by before he realized his house was the only one without power.

It was just like the water.

Opening the windows did little to let out all the hot air. Tim soon found himself leaving his stuffy house to search for shade and a breeze on his property.

He wandered under the trees and walked along the iron fence that separated this section of his parents’ plot from the Wayne’s vast estate. Most of the line between their properties was marked with a tall brick wall, but there was a section where the trees grew close together, and the brick turned into a tall black fence. When Tim was little, he would sit by the fence and pretend to look for some gateway that would take him somewhere else.

He used to sit alone by the fence a lot, daydreaming.

Though Tim never admitted it, after he found out Batman’s identity, he would walk there sometimes and hope to see what his neighbors were up to. He always thought they looked happy when he managed to catch sight of them. It was nice.

Without thinking, Tim sat under a tree and pressed his cheek into an iron bar. It was not as cool as he had hoped it would be.

The Waynes had their sprinklers on and when the breeze blew just right, a fine mist caressed his overheated skin.

He focused on the cool relief and not on his dwindling water supply, empty pantry or the $50 that was shrinking more quickly than he wanted it to.  

For this moment, he could just concentrate on the soft wind and the sound of the sprinkler system and the barking dog…

Tim opened his eyes and he would have moved if he thought it would help. But the Waynes’ dog had already seen him and it barked as it ran for the perimeter.

Tim leaned away, praying the dog would just leave before-

“Ace! What are you doing?”

Jason Todd was carrying a Frisbee as he walked through the sprinklers. He was wearing a red shirt and swimming trunks; clearly he had been purposefully playing in the sprinklers with the dog. Tim had never played in a sprinkler, but he had heard of some kids doing that when it got hot.

“Leave the squirrels alone, man. They’re not doing anyth-“

Tim stared up blankly at Jason, and Jason only stared back for a beat before grabbing Ace’s collar.

“Heel,” Jason commanded and the dog finally relented, leaving Tim and choosing instead to bite at the spray coming from the closest sprinkler.

“Hey, kid” Jason drawled. “Uh, Tim, right? You okay?”

Tim opened his mouth, but for a moment all he could think was how his mother had once scolded him for having a conversation with Jason at a gala. She had said Jason was beneath him.

His mother was wrong, but he could never tell her that.

“Jason,” Tim muttered finally, “it’s hot.” Because it was and he could really think of nothing else to say to Robin. Stupid, overheated brain.

“Yeah,” Jason raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should go inside your house? You’re looking kind of shi- bad.”

Tim stared down at his discount basketball shorts. Did he look bad?

“It’s too hot for slacks,” Tim mumbled.

There was a moment of silence, before Jason cleared his throat.

“Okay, bud. Maybe go inside and drink some water and, like, sit down in the AC or something.”

Why was Jason using a Robin voice? A victim voice?

Tim blinked slowly and turned his head in the direction of his house.

“The AC isn’t working,” Tim said before he could stop himself.

“What? Are you serious? That sucks. How long is it going to take to fix?” Jason had kneeled close to his level. When did that happen?

Tim grimaced before he lied through his teeth. “My nanny is on the phone with the company right now. A couple hours maybe.”

“It’s like 105 degrees out. Were you just going to sit out here until it was fixed?”

Tim furrowed his brow. Why did Jason have so many questions? Tim was too warm, and he was really thirsty now and he couldn’t think well enough to lie convincingly.

Tim shrugged.

There was another moment of silence before Jason spoke again.

“I was going to swim in our pool later,” the other boy remarked.

Must be nice, Tim thought.

“Do you want to come over to swim? If your nanny says it’s ok?”

Tim stared, did he just get invited over to the Waynes' home? To Batman’s home?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Jason started to say when Tim only stared at him.

“Yes,” Tim blurted past his dry throat and cracking lips. “Yes, please.”

Jason smiled and Tim found that it was just as bright as when he was swinging through the city.

“Meet you at the front gate in 20 minutes?”

Tim nodded and eagerly scrambled to his feet. And if he wavered a little from the resulting dizziness, it didn’t matter. Jason Todd, Robin, had invited him over. He was going to escape everything for a little while and then he would return back home to finish his parents’ game.

Taking a swim wasn’t cheating, he was still up for any challenge.

Thankfully, he hadn’t grown much since last summer and his old swim trunks fit just fine. Tim changed at home, sweat dripping down the back of his neck from the short time he spent inside his house.

He took a gulp of warm water from his stash before shoving his bare feet into sneakers and fleeing the home.

Jason met him with a grin at the opened gate to Wayne manor.

He asked Tim about his summer as they walked across the huge lawn. To Tim’s dismay, the sprinklers had already turned off. He wiped sweat from his brow and tried to think of an answer

“I’ve just been hanging around the house. I wasn’t planning on doing anything this summer.” Not since Italy fell through, Tim thought with a frown.

Well. Nothing except watching Batman, but he certainly wouldn’t be saying that.

“Yeah, we’re staying home too. But there’s the pools and my brother is coming to stay for a few weeks.”

Nightwing was coming after all. Holy crap. Tim had hoped he would. It had been a long time since he had a chance to get a picture of all three of them.

“Cool,” Tim said in a hopefully neutral voice.

The Waynes had an outdoor and an indoor pool. Jason led him to the indoor one, claiming the sun was too bright and he didn’t feel like getting a sunburn. Tim stared down at his own pale arms. Going out mainly at night probably hadn’t helped his complexion and he already burned easily. So sticking to the indoor pool suited him just fine. They entered in a side door and Tim could cry in relief. While it probably wasn’t kept the coldest area of the house, it was bliss compared to his own home.

Tim placed his shirt on a chair before he quickly followed Jason to the water.

“Do not run, Master Jason,” a voice called. Tim jumped, realizing the Waynes' butler was standing beside a table where he was placing water bottles. Tim eyed the bottles eagerly, almost forgetting to introduce himself.

“Hello, I’m Timothy Drake. Nice to meet you.” Tim was too far to shake a hand but he nodded and hoped that was polite enough.

“Hello, Timothy. I am Alfred Pennyworth, I am sorry to hear about the trouble you are having with your air conditioning. Please enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tim swung back around and met Jason at the pool’s edge. Jason stood near the deep end, waiting for Tim to join.

“Okay, Timmy, are you a just jump in kind of guy or a one step at a time guy?”

Tim eyed the water, beckoning him in with its promise of relief.

“Just jump,” Tim whispered, disbelief that this is where his afternoon had lead him was beginning to hit him, but he didn’t want to question it.

Jason grinned down at him

“We go at the count of three, then. Ready? One… two… three!”

Tim flew.

Jason was trying to teach Tim how to float on top of the water, when a deeper voice called out.

“Come eat, boys.”

Tim flailed in surprise and ended up dunking his head just beneath the surface, causing Jason to grab his arm and pull him to the pool’s ledge. Coughing, Tim glanced up to see Bruce Wayne with a furrowed brow and a look of concern.

“Sorry to startle you. Are you alright, Timothy?” Bruce held out his hands, looking ready to pluck Tim from the pool. The man was wearing $600 slacks, Tim would not be dripping water all over them.

“I’m fine, Mr. Wayne. Thank you.” Tim quickly hoisted himself out of the water all on his own.

“Please, call me Bruce.”

Oh. His parents would not be okay with that.

They aren’t here.

Tim nodded, but found his throat strangely closing. Bruce seemed to take it in stride as he handed off warm, fluffy towels to both boys.

Tim soon found himself seated at a small round table with a plethora of sandwiches and snack options as well as water bottles and a selection of juices. He grabbed a bottle of water and was relieved to not have to think about how much he could drink before his next trip to the store.

“Have as much as you like,” the butler said with a gentle smile, handing Tim a plate.

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth,” he managed before he let himself get lost in finger sandwiches and cut up strawberries.

He hadn’t had fresh fruit in a month and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it.

They let him get through nearly a whole plate of food, before they started directing any questions or comments his way.

“So Tim, Jason says you’ll be in eighth grade, but how old are you now?” Bruce asked with a smile in place.

“I’m twelve.” Give or take a few weeks. “I skipped the fifth grade, so I’m a bit ahead.”

 “Jason is fourteen-“

“Fifteen,” Jason interrupted. Bruce sighed.

“Not yet, chum.”

Jason shrugged. “It’s just a little over a month away, I’m basically fifteen.”

Huh. Jason rounded up too.

Bruce sighed again. “You don’t need to be in such a hurry, Jaylad.”

Jason rolled his eyes, but he smiled a bit at Bruce’s words.

“If you say so, old man.”

The conversation flowed easily, and Tim did his best not to stuff his face, but they kept encouraging him to try more. He ate until he was full. And that wasn’t a feeling he was used to anymore.

He waited until they all seemed to be caught up in conversation about which classes Jason would be taking in the fall, when he carefully wrapped two cookies in a paper napkin and slipped them into the pocket of his trunks. He hoped they were dry enough that the cookies would make it home with him. He could have them for dinner.

It wasn’t stealing. It was perfectly fine to save some for later. He just didn’t want the Wayne family to know. He wasn’t sure what lie he would tell if he was caught.

They talked for a few more minutes before Bruce cleared his throat.

“Tim, if there is still trouble with your AC, you and your nanny are welcome to stay the night here.”

Tim opened and shut his mouth, tripped up on which lie would come out first.

The AC was fixed now? His nanny wouldn’t like to stay over? His parents would rather he not spend more time with the Waynes than necessary?

That last one was the truth actually.

“I would have to ask,” Tim settled on.

Was he really going to pass up the chance to stay over at Batman’s house? Would it be okay if he stayed?

The kitchen floor came to his mind and the way he hadn’t managed to really sleep there, even though he was exhausted.

“Of course. Ask and if she agrees, you can both come right over.”

Tim nodded and stood from his chair. “I don’t have my phone.” Because it was dead so he had just left it on the kitchen counter. He hadn’t been able to go the library and borrow an outlet recently. He figured he could always use the landline if there was an emergency, but now that he thought of it, he didn’t know if it would work or not with the electricity out. “I’ll just go ask her.”

“I’ll walk you, Timmy,” Jason stood from his chair and Tim started to argue but Jason waved him off.

Stuck being too polite and a little awestruck honestly, Tim gathered his shoes and shirt and began the walk back home.

Jason was talking about some new video game he had got recently and was suggesting they play since Tim was possibly staying over, but Tim could only hum every now and then to suggest he was listening.

His mind whirled. What if Jason noticed how empty the house was? What if he noticed that the lawn was dying from a lack of watering?

But what if he didn’t and it would be okay and Tim would get to hang out with Robin. Robin. In Batman’s home.

He thought of them laughing as they swung from rooftops. It was stupid how he had always wished he could be with them.

But maybe he could have something like that.

Tim took a deep breath. He was smart. He could cheat a little and spend some time away from the house and still win the game overall.

His parents never needed to know.

Chapter Text

“I’m not allowed to have people over,” Tim blurted out when they got to his driveway. It wasn’t a lie. Nobody was supposed to come over when he was home alone. His parents made that clear.

If Jason thought it was weird, he didn’t show it. The older boy just shrugged. “Okay. Should I wait here for your answer? You said you didn’t have your phone. So…”

Right. Tim had no way of letting the Waynes know if he was going to come over to stay.

“Sure, yeah. Be right back,” Tim said as he walked to the front door and- oh, Jason was going to notice there was nobody there to unlock it. He quickly got out his key and opened the door without looking back.

It was a big house. His nanny just couldn’t hear a knock. Lies and cover stories started forming in his mind.

Tim blinked in the dim living room. Not sure if it was weird or noticeable that there were no lights on, he walked quickly to the kitchen. He grabbed his phone from the counter and turned it in his hand as he stood there, having a make believe conversation in his head.

Can I go over to the neighbor’s house for the night?

Which neighbors?

The Waynes.

Sounds great, I’m going to go do something else that sounds realistic and not made up at all.

Tim nodded. A conversation like that wouldn’t take too long. He would wait another minute and then go tell Jason he was all good to come over.

In the meantime, Tim pulled out the cookies from his pocket. The napkin was damp, but the cookies were okay. He placed them in a tupperware and set them in his pantry for later. He absently brushed some dust from a shelf as he inspected the pantry’s contents.  

Less than two weeks and then his parents should be home. There wasn’t any reason for them not to come home. They had not given him an exact return date, but they had never been gone for five months before…

Tim took a deep breath and headed back outside. Jason was waiting at the end of the driveway, texting on his phone.

“She said it’s fine.” Tim wiped sweat from his brow. “My nanny is going to go stay with her son. She said ‘thanks’ for watching me for the night.”

Jason stared a moment too long before nodding. “Sounds good. You want to go pack a bag?”

Tim frowned. He had been only thinking of getting Jason out of his driveway and he had just assumed he would meet him back at the manor later. Jason was too close to all of this, and Tim did not like it. But what could he do?

“Sure. Be right back.”

Tim raced into his house and packed in record speed; shoving a change of clothes and pajamas into his backpack and tossing a half empty water bottle in with his toothbrush.

He hurried down the driveway a few minutes later, sweat dripping off his chin.

Jason grabbed the backpack from his hands and slung it over his own shoulder before Tim could stop him.

“Let’s get you in front of a fan or something, Timmy.”

Tim wanted to protest, but Jason was already walking home. He could only hurry along after him, the promise of cool air too enticing to argue about anything else.

Jason dropped Tim’s backpack onto the perfectly made bed.

“My room is down two doors. B is across the hall from me.” Jason popped open the door to the ensuite. “You got your own toilet and shower. Alfred keeps them all stocked for guests, but let me know if there is anything else you need.”

Tim glanced around the room. It was plain, but comfortable. There was a bed and dresser as well as a desk. And best of all, it was wonderfully cool. Tim wanted to just sit and drink it all in, but he would have to wait for a moment alone.

“Thanks,” Tim said as he peered into the bathroom, eyeing the water faucet with a bit too much intensity.

He quickly looked back to find the older boy studying him, but his expression quickly shifted and he was smiling again.  

“I’m going to go rinse off the chlorine. You’re welcome to clean yourself up. Alfred will serve dinner late, since we ate just after swimming.”

“Okay,” Tim mumbled, already gravitating towards the shower.

“Towels are in the cupboards on the right,” Jason called as he made his way out of the room.

“Thank you!” Tim was sure to say as the bedroom door shut.

And Tim was finally alone.

He gave himself 30 seconds to freak out over everything. He was in Batman’s house! He was going to play games with Robin later and then sit down and eat with them again.

Tim quickly found an outlet for his phone charger and then headed straight for the bathroom.

He turned the sink faucet on and watched the water pour out into the basin.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and didn’t bother hiding his grin. It was just for the night, but it was nice to have a break from a home that seemed to be shutting down around him.

Tim turned the hot water on in the shower and watched it soak the tiles on the wall.

He could have this for one night and then he could go back to being the man of his house.

Just one night.

They had spaghetti for dinner with garlic breadsticks which Tim was tempted to try and hide away for later, but he felt like they were talking more to him this time. It was too much attention to try and sneak food.

Overall, dinner was surprisingly pleasant. He hadn't had many family dinners and he wasn't sure what to expect. Tim’s nerves settled when the conversation flowed easily between them all. They asked him for his thoughts on topics and encouraged him to have as much food as he wanted. But it wasn’t until Tim had nearly cleared his second plate when Bruce wiped his napkin across his chin and turned his complete attention to Tim.

“It’s too bad your nanny couldn’t join us. Alfred always makes more than enough.” The man was leaning forward and Tim fought to keep himself from leaning back.

“I think she wanted to go be with her son.” Tim spoke quickly and somewhat honestly. “She has a new grandbaby.”

No lies here.

“That’s nice,” Bruce smiled. “Perhaps we will have to send something for the new parents then. Having a new baby is difficult.”

Jason scoffed. “How would you know that, old man?”

Bruce turned his smile towards Alfred. “I have heard from a very reliable source.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Difficult was not the word I used, Master Bruce. An unholy terror from the moment you could crawl.” He cleared his throat. “But you were a pleasant enough newborn.”

“What’s your nanny’s name?” Bruce turned again to Tim. “We'll send along our congratulations to her and her family.”

It was said so casually that Tim almost missed it. Almost.

They wanted to know about his nanny. And as she was fluctuating between being fictional and in Arizona, this did not look good.

“Mrs. Mac,” Tim answered around the lump forming in his throat. “Thank you, but you don’t need to do anything. I think they’re doing fine.” Change the subject. “I can help with dishes,” Tim started to gather his plate, but Alfred’s hands were there, stopping him.

“No need, I have it. Master Jason, perhaps show our guest the family room.”

“Yeah, come on, Timmy. I want to show you my games.”

Tim thanked them again before following Jason. Just as he was leaving he caught Bruce’s hushed voice, but he couldn’t make out what the man was saying.

Tim quickened his pace, following on Jason’s heels.

Tim was pretty sure they played every game that Jason owned. And while they played, fresh baked cookies appeared on the coffee table. Popcorn, a box of granola bars and more bottles of water soon appeared too. When they finally settled down to watch a movie, Tim was able to slip a few granola bars into his pocket. There were so many snacks, he was sure it wouldn’t be noticed. A little after 11, Jason put on a cooking show that Tim didn’t know and sank back into the couch

“It’s summer, so I stay up late, but you can go to bed if you want. Not sure when your nanny usually makes you go to sleep.”

Tim shook his head. “She doesn’t care that much. As long as I’m quiet.” His last live-in nanny had been that way at least.

“She sounds cool.”

Tim hummed in response, quickly building his nanny’s backstory in his mind. He supposed he would make her a mix of Mrs. Mac and Miss Kelly. She had been a nice enough person, but she went away to school over two years ago.

“Do you like your nanny?” Jason asked with a yawn. Tim tried to remain still as alarm bells went off in his head. Jason was being too casual. Like it was forced.

“Yeah,” Tim answered with a shrug.

 “She doesn’t sound strict, at least.” Jason commented.

Abort. Abort.

“No, she’s not strict. She doesn’t care what I do.”

“She doesn’t?” Jason’s nose wrinkled.

Too casual. Damn.

“She does her job.” Matter of fact. That was probably fine.

Jason hummed.

“Well, if you ever want to come over and swim again, that would be fine. The heatwave is supposed to get worse.”

Wow. An open invitation to come over and hang out with Robin. Would that really be okay?

“Maybe,” Tim managed to mumble, suddenly overwhelmed. He was so comfortable that it had to be rude and he was taking more food than he should, which was definitely rude.

But he just couldn’t help it. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone to talk to.

He liked it.

“My parents will want me home when they get back. But I can come over before that.”

Jason ruffled his hair. An action that startled Tim enough that he jumped at the contact. Jason’s hand quickly fell away, but he didn’t say anything.

“Sounds good, Timmy,” Jason smiled and turned back to the TV.

Later that night, Tim dragged himself up to his bed. He stretched out under clean sheets and for a long moment he just enjoyed the feeling of a mattress and blankets and cool air drifting around him. There was a light coming from the bathroom and Tim realized there was a nightlight. He was too old for a nightlight.

But it had been so dark in his house. So dark that he thought he would get lost in the pitch blackness of the kitchen.

Tim had really missed light.

A few deep breaths later, Tim allowed himself to relax, and he soon drifted into a gentle sleep.

Tim was holding his phone convincingly in front of him at breakfast the next morning

“The AC is fixed at my house now. I can go back home.”

Bruce paused in his scrolling on his tablet while Jason stared blearily at him from across his bowl of oatmeal. They were eating a late breakfast and Tim couldn’t help but wonder if they went out last night after he went to bed.

“Do you gotta go back right away? Or can you stay to swim again?” Jason asked.

Tim had not been expected to be invited to stay longer than necessary. The AC was "fixed." He had already intruded for an entire night. Didn’t they have vigilante things to be doing?

But it would be nice to stay and enjoy the pool. He could head back home a little later when it wasn’t as hot out.

“I can stay a little while.” Tim decided.

 Jason nodded approvingly and continued eating his breakfast.

Tim made plans. He could swim, stay cool, maybe even shower again and then go home. It was probably wrong to keep taking so much from the Waynes when it wasn’t what was expected of a Drake.

As if hearing his thoughts, Bruce cleared his throat and spoke up. “You’re welcome to come over any time, Tim. Our pool is open all summer.” The man smiled and Tim stared.

He would absolutely not be coming over any time. That was rude and they had secret identities to keep secret!

“Yeah, just text me whenever you want to come by. We’re not going anywhere this summer.” Jason added. And yeah, getting Robin’s number had been truly surreal, but Tim hadn’t thought about actually using it.  

“Okay,” Tim finally said, feeling conflicted and excited all at once. "Thank you."

“You’re more than welcome,” Bruce said.

Tim smiled. He wanted it to be true. But the reality was that the Waynes weren’t supposed to be part of the game. Tim had to do it on his own. It was the only way to truly win.

With a polite smile, Tim went back to breakfast, thinking he wouldn’t be taking them up on the offer.

Jason insisted on walking him back home. Tim thought the other boy might find it suspicious that the house was so dark and quiet, but Jason didn’t comment on it or even seem to look at the house. He stayed at the end of the driveway until after Tim had unlocked his door and ducked inside. Tim peered through the front window and watched as Jason pulled out his phone and texted someone as he walked away.

Alone, Tim felt the heat press down upon him. He hurried to the kitchen and began opening all the windows and the back door, hoping the warm air would dissipate.

It didn’t help much, and Tim soon found himself stretched out on his kitchen floor again, wishing it would cool down.

Tim thought of cool sheets and a soft nightlight.

He waited until the sun went down completely before he moved from the floor.

Tim worked up the energy to do his laundry using water from a jug and some detergent all poured into a large bowl he found in the cabinet. Once soaked and rinsed, he placed his clothes flat on the counter, knowing the warm air would dry them soon enough.

He kept himself busy that evening, trying to ward off the twisting feeling that he couldn’t deny was loneliness now. How had he already changed so much? How could he no longer be used to the quiet of the house?

Staying one night at Wayne Manor could not have made him miss the sounds of other people that much.

Could it?

Feeling uneasy about turning his flashlight off for the night, Tim went to the garage to check for extra batteries. In his search, he came across an old radio in a drawer. Battery powered with an old antenna; it looked like nobody had used it in years. Tim brought it into the house along with some extra batteries he found.

It took a few tries, but he eventually found a radio station that the antenna picked up.

The station specialized in oldies and broke partway into static every few minutes. Tim placed it on the floor and listened to the music and the DJ’s voices. 

The night wore on and Tim curled up on the floor with a single pillow to cushion his head, the radio playing softly through the night.

He listened and he listened. And he could pretend he wasn’t alone.

Tim fell into a fitful sleep.

With a little over $20 in his wallet, he realized he needed to make more adjustments. His birthday was in a little over a week and his parents had not yet emailed to let him know their arrival dates. They usually gave him a warning of a few days before their plane landed so that he could be ready to help them with luggage or prepare anything else they needed. He kept his phone charged as much as he could, checking for the email every few hours.

He made use of the invitation to come over and swim once. It was more of an excuse to borrow their electrical outlet than anything. He kept his visit to only a few hours, being sure to leave before Bruce Wayne came home from work. He had enough time to cool down and try to sneak a few extra snacks. They always had so many. He was sure they wouldn’t notice.

The snacks helped keep his spending down. He had also stopped buying water for things like washing clothes and cleaning. He began sneaking around to people’s yards and using their hoses to fill a jug of water and bring it back home. He had to wait until it got dark and he had to walk until he found a home with no noticeable cameras to record his trespassing, but he was making it work.

He couldn’t deny that the food was running low though and he noticed the hunger never fully went away anymore.

He needed to be more resourceful, if he was going to win this time.

Tim stared down the trash bin with a wrinkled nose.

Wednesday night was the only night he could do this. Trash pick-up day was tomorrow. He was dressed in his batwatching gear, all in black with an additional dark hoodie and a beanie pulled low across his brow.

He was not far from home. He knew places in the city that would work for dumpster diving, but he had also been witness to a few fights that broke out over prime spots. Trying to stay away from any trouble, he had decided to inspect the bins closer to home. Rich people always threw away too much, and as long as he picked homes that did not have a security camera pointed at the street, he should be fine.

He just, under no circumstances, could get caught. The Drake boy going through garbage? His family would not live down the humiliation. Secrecy was key.

He would move quickly and do nothing to bring attention to himself.

Tim took a deep breath and lifted the lid of the large trash can. He quickly realized he was a bit too short to do this comfortably, but he could at least reach the top bag and work it open enough to see the contents. Empty takeout containers and shredded up papers stared back at him. He worked free a glass bottle of champagne. Some recycling places paid for glass and cans. Though it wasn’t much, it was better than nothing.

He slipped the bottle into his bag and moved two houses down. He stuck to the shadows and walked silently. His mind turned and twisted it into a game. This was an opportunity to work on his stealth and detective skills. Batman would look through trash if he had to. Knowing what Tim knew about Jason Todd, Robin had been forced to go through dumpsters when he was out on the street.

Tim’s chest warmed in encouragement. If Robin could do it, then Tim could too.

It took three more trash cans until Tim found the remnants of a charcuterie board of some kind. He tucked grapes, cheese and crackers into a plastic bag before shoving it into his backpack as well. He hit five more houses that night.

By the time he was heading home, he had a bag full of rich people’s leftovers. He would inspect it all by the light of his flashlight once he got home and make sure everything was good enough to eat. He was just beginning to turn down his driveway when his eyes landed on the garbage cans outside of Wayne Manor.

Thoughts of Alfred’s cooking and baking drifted through his mind. It was not a smart idea.

But he didn’t think there was a camera pointing at the bins…

Holding his breath, he crept up to the closest bin. He moved painstakingly slow, aware that the few bottles and cans he found would clink together if he moved too fast. Slowly, slowly he reached up and nudged open the lid. He peered inside before he started carefully ripping apart the bag on top, wondering what he might find there. Breadsticks came to his mind, but he would take anything. There was some kind of pasta soaking through everything, but it wasn’t anything Tim could easily grab. He stood on his tippy toes and dug deeper. Disappointment began to grow as he realized there wouldn’t be anything suitable for him. He breathed out, giving up, when he heard the sound of the gate creak and a soft gasp.

Tim dropped the lid as if it had burned him and madly sprinted off in the opposite direction. Cans and bottles rattled, giving his position away. He threw himself sideways into a row of hedges and went still, praying the dark had been enough to conceal him.

Over the sound of his beating heart, he heard slow footsteps walking out into the middle of the street.

Daring to look, Tim peered through sweat dripping from his forehead and the branches of dry shrubbery. He could make out a set of legs, as well as the garbage bag that was being carried along by this unknown person.

“It’s okay,” a voice spoke quietly into the night.

A voice Tim had heard many times when he was out batwatching in the past.

Tim tilted his head, catching a glimpse of Dick Grayson frowning under the single dim streetlight.

Jason’s big brother was back in town apparently.

The man was scanning shadows before he seemed to come to some conclusion and knelt down. He untied the garbage bag he was holding. Slowly, Dick pulled out a pizza box and set it down on the ground.

“I was just going to throw this away, but there are still a few slices,” he announced to the air. “We’re not supposed to eat a lot of junk food,” he continued, “so it’s kind of a secret.” Dick stood back up, taking the garbage bag with him. “It would help me out if someone took the box, to get rid of the evidence.”

Tim had stopped breathing as Dick turned to his hiding spot, but then looked away. The man took a few steps backwards. “Sorry, I scared you,” he spoke into the night.

Tim listened as Dick slowly retreated. He heard the clang of the gate closing and the sound of footsteps on gravel, going back up to the house.

Tim was swimming in sweat, but he waited. He waited until his legs were screaming from being curled up for so long and a spider had begun to fix the web that he had broken when he crashed through the foliage.

Tim took a deep breath and then another before he stood and crept from his hiding spot. Surveying his surroundings, Tim saw he was alone. He pulled his beanie down and his hood back up from where it had fallen. After one more breath, he sprinted to the middle of the road, grabbed the pizza box and went running down the street with his prize.

If the Waynes did have cameras, he could not be seen running back to the Drake estate. He would take a run around the block before slipping home again.

When he finally did make it back to his own kitchen, he spread out all his findings on the kitchen island, scanning the items with his flashlight, he decided what was good. He orgainzed his findings by what needed to be eaten soonest based on how likely it was to go bad in his sweltering house.

Sitting on the floor of his kitchen with the radio playing softly, Tim ate the three slices of pizza first.

His mind wandered as he ate. He imagined what it would be like to sit and eat contraband junk food with Jason and Dick.

Tim stared at the pizza crust in his hand and then at the dark room pressing around him.

This would have to be good enough.

He woke up early the day of his birthday; checked his phone almost as soon as his eyes opened. He had two messages from Jason, inviting him over to hang out with him and his brother. He had not accepted an invitation back to the manor since the pizza incident, always claiming some excuse. He didn’t think Dick had recognized him. But what if Tim showed up and Dick did somehow make the connection? He couldn’t risk it. And now it was his birthday and his parents hadn’t emailed to say when they were coming back yet.

He had thought they would be back by now. Scrolling through his emails he found his mother’s last message in May.

He had thought they would return.

As he stared at the email, it dawned on him that his mother had not listed a return date. Not even a return month.

He had just assumed.

Their longest trip ever was four months. They had never been away this long. So he had thought…

Stupid. Childish.

They were now gone for more than 5 months, and they always emailed before their arrival.

But maybe, they had just forgotten and they would email soon.

Because they couldn’t be gone this long.

They had never left him alone this long.

Tim looked around his kitchen, his clothes were drying on the counter, the radio had been turned off to avoid draining the battery, an empty water bottle was tilted onto its side on the floor.

They were going to come back.

Right?

He had done well. And he was twelve now. Surely, they would come back to reward him.

To see him.

Tim’s eyes burned and he scrubbed hard at his face. He would not cry now like a baby.

A flash of anger flared in his chest and he thought of all the games while he was growing up. He had never been really mad at his parents before. But all he could feel now was frustration and hurt, and maybe he could let himself feel that way, just for a little while.

He found himself texting a message before he could rethink it or care about the consequences.

Can I come over now?

The response came so quickly, Tim didn’t even have time to set the phone down.

Yeah! We’re going to have a water gun fight. You’re on my team tiny Tim.

That ugly, angry feeling abated slightly. He pushed that feeling down and shut it away. Hanging out with Robin was not such a bad way to spend a birthday. Nodding to himself, he decided he would take a break today and get back to the game tomorrow. It’s not like this was the first time his parents had not been around for his birthday. He would adapt. No more being upset over it.

Tim typed a response before he rushed to change and escape his empty house.

I’m in.

Chapter Text

Tim had agonized a few times about what it would be like to face Dick, but he just didn’t really care anymore when he asked Jason if he could come over. However, now that he was standing on the grounds of Wayne Manor and Jason was waving his brother over, Tim felt his stomach plummet.

“Tim’s on my team,” Jason said in a way of announcing Tim’s arrival to the game.

“Hey, Tim!” Dick waved the water gun in his left hand. “It’s been a while.”

Tim screamed internally. Officially, they had only been in each other’s presence at galas. But Tim had seen Nightwing more recently than that. And there was also the pizza incident now.

“Hello, it’s nice to see you again.” Tim smiled politely in the way that he had been taught. He was reaching to shake his hand, but Jason shoved a water gun into it instead.  

“Us against the old people, Tim,” Jason explained. “B is supposed to be coming out right now.”

Tim nodded along as Jason went over the rules. Bruce and Dick would go around to the front of the house while Jason and Tim started from the back. The goal was to spray their opponents as much as possible before retreating. There was not a base or any kind of object to capture.

“How do you win the game?” Tim asked as he fiddled with his water gun’s barrel. Dick had already gone to the front of the house and he and Jason were huddled near the back door.

“We have an hour to spray them as much as we can. There’s not a winner exactly. Usually we all end up pretty soaked. But we all get to cool off and I get to spray B in the face.”

“There’s not a winner,” Tim echoed.

Jason glanced at his watch because of course they had synchronized their watches for this. “Not really. We start in 10 seconds. Ready Tim?”

Tim gripped his gun close and nodded. He didn’t like not knowing how to win. How would he know if he had done well or not?

Before he could think anymore, Jason was dragging him around the side of the house.

“Stay close. Cover me.”

Tim had never taken an order so seriously.

Tim had never in his life, fired a water gun.

And it showed.

He was bad at the game.

But Jason only laughed and shouted advice at him as they played. He was pretty sure Dick and Bruce were going easy on him, but he was grateful when he saw Jason catch Bruce right in the chin with a stream of water.

And yeah, watching Bruce Wayne tear around his well kept yard with his sons was not a sight he thought he would see. At least not up close like this.

“Ace! Heel! Aufhören!”

The dog kept leaping into the air, snapping at the streams of water. He seemed to be zeroed in on Jason’s water gun, causing the boy to stumble.

“Good boy!” Dick yelled as he took advantage of the chaos to soak the back of Jason’s shirt.

Tim shot Dick in the chest. He was covering for Jason after all and he was getting better as time went on. Jason laughed and he grabbed Tim’s arm, dragging him to the designated safe zone to regroup.

“You can only be in the safe zone for two minutes!” Dick called.

“No guarding the safe zone!” Jason yelled, waving his gun in a threatening manner.

Tim kept finding himself matching their grins and laughing with them. He had always wanted to be a part of their group, but now that he was here, it was all surreal and even a bit overwhelming. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled this much.

However, it was over 90 degrees outside and Tim had only had a little to drink prior to coming over. His energy was starting to wane and he found himself leaning against the side of the house.

“Did you say something in German to Ace?” Tim asked between breaths.

He scoffed at Tim’s question. “Dick was teaching him German because he’s a German Shepherd and Dick is dumb like that.” Jason turned the hose on and watched the water stream out before testing the temperature with his hand. “But he doesn’t tell me what words he taught him and he only listens like half the time.” Jason held the running hose up. “Tim,” he said with a motion to the hose, but Tim didn’t understand. His water gun didn’t need to be refilled. Jason motioned with the hose once more, but Tim didn’t move.

“Here, like this.” Jason ducked his head down and let the water hit the back of his neck. He then motioned to Tim and the younger boy ducked down. The cold water hit the back of his head, and he sighed in relief. He hadn’t been hit as much as the others during their game and he was starting to get uncomfortable out in the sun. He didn’t know how Jason knew.

“You boys alright?” A deep voice asked. Tim jumped. He had not heard Bruce walk up behind him.

“We’re fine. Just cooling off.” Jason turned the hose off.

Bruce hummed. “Maybe we call it now. I’m sure lunch is almost ready anyway. You’re, of course, welcome to stay, Tim.”

Food.

Tim stared too long before he remembered himself.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce almost frowned before he patted Tim’s shoulder. “How about we get out of the sun and get some water?”

Tim thought it was the best sounding idea ever.

Lunch was amazing. There was fresh fruit and vegetables and more little sandwiches. Jason had given him a change of clothes that were too small for him, but hung off of Tim. 

He felt like there were too many people at the table for him to sneak any food this time, but he ate his fill. Dick was asking him about his summer and, if Tim hadn’t been so focused on shoving food into his mouth, he might have been a bit more in awe of eating lunch with Batman, Robin and Nightwing. However, there was also the pizza incident that lingered in the back of his mind. Dick wasn’t looking at him weird or anything. There was no way he had figured it out.

None of them were acting odd at all. Lunch with them was just… nice. Tim realized he was getting used to them. It was almost like he had a place there.

Tim shook the thought out of his head. He was just visiting and when his parents did come home, he wouldn’t be allowed over here. He couldn’t get too used to this. He couldn’t depend on them this much.

But for his birthday… he could indulge himself for this one day.

Jason wordlessly handed him a bowl of cut up watermelon when he saw Tim’s plate was nearly empty. Tim took them with a nod of thanks and filled half his plate again. While he had been contemplating his situation, the conversation had turned to Dick’s own plans for the remainder of the summer.

“How much longer can you stay, chum?” Bruce asked.

“I believe I was told I had to stay at least another two weeks,” he responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Dick hurt his shoulder at work,” Jason explained a little too quickly to Tim. “He’s on medical leave.”

Tim’s eyes widened before he could stop himself. He carefully changed his expression to something more neutral. He hadn’t kept up with the news in Bludhaven, but he would bet everything that Dick was here recovering from an injury he sustained on patrol.

“I would like you to stay until you’re better,” Bruce smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re welcome to stay even longer.”

“I’m fine, B,” Dick said, not without affection.

“You lost a water gun fight to two children today,” Jason piped up. Dick looked mortally offended and opened his mouth to retaliate when Tim spoke up without meaning to.

“Are you okay?” He asked very quietly.

Dick immediately turned a reassuring smile to him.

“I’m fine. These two are both just mother hens.”

Satisfied enough with that response, Tim then turned to Jason. “Did we win the water gun fight?”

Jason shrugged. “I’d say we did better than the old folks.”

Tim nodded. Jason had said there wasn’t any winning really, but he needed to make sure he had done a good enough job.

Lunch was winding down when Dick turned his full attention to Tim.

“So when are your parents getting back? Jason says they’ve been gone a while.”

Tim pushed down the stabbing feeling in his chest.

“They extended their trip.” And he was pretty sure he had said that 100 times in the past. It was an old script to quell the inquisitive people. He was supposed to quickly change the subject now, but all he could think was that he had really thought they would be back on his birthday. And his throat tightened quite unexpectedly.

His vision was blurred before he realized what was happening.

“Tim?” Bruce prompted. And God he was starting to cry at the man’s dinner table.

“Um.” Tim shut his eyes for one moment before he wiped a hand across face. “Sorry.” He blinked and the tears were gone. “I don’t know why…”  Tim trailed off, unsure how he was going to finish that sentence.

“It’s perfectly normal to miss your parents.” Bruce was looking at him with such a gentle kindness and Tim felt a lump form in his throat. Nobody else at the table even had parents anymore and here he was getting upset for no reason. His parents were coming back.

They’re coming back.

“You’re okay,” a gentle voice spoke up. Tim snapped his attention to Dick and saw the overflowing concern there. Why were they so worried? Why did they care? He barely even knew Dick and he'd barely started hanging around Jason and Bruce this summer; sitting in their air conditioning and eating their food.

“You should stay the night. We’ll watch movies,” Jason suggested abruptly. He had leaned in during all of this and was close to bumping shoulders with Tim.

“I have to ask my nanny,” came the automatic lie. Jason frowned, but he nodded.

“Okay,” he spoke softly. “Ask and then you can just stay.”

Tim’s heart ached. He wished he could just stay. Stay the night. Stay the weekend. Stay for as long as he wanted.

But he couldn’t shirk his responsibilities. He could stay tonight for his birthday. A gift for himself in a way.

Then, tomorrow, he would go back.

“The Thing.”

“Aliens.”

“Boys, Tim is twelve.”

Apparently, the Waynes had been watching monster movies for the past week. Dick had picked the theme.

“Jaws?” Jason raised an eyebrow at Bruce. “It’s PG.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Bruce sighed.

“Tim’s not scared,” Jason declared. “Are you?” He turned to Tim who was perched on their couch in the family room. Tim shook his head, he had been watching the debate without a word, happy to let the older boys pick a movie.

The debate carried on for a few minutes before they settled on three movies for the afternoon and evening. Dracula, The Mummy and an older Godzilla movie that Tim didn’t know.

Tim was happy to be watching anything, though he was a little thrown off by Bruce’s presence. He had eaten a few meals with the man, but he had been kind of avoiding him and certainly hadn’t spent a movie night with him.

Jason was starting up the movie, when Dick looked up from his phone. “I’ll make popcorn later, but are there any requests for junk food? I’m getting it delivered.”

“Not too much,” Bruce said. "Alfred is still making dinner in a few hours.”

Jason turned quickly to Bruce. “I thought we were doing pizza?”

Tim’s heart dropped to the floor and he stopped breathing.

“No pizza tonight.” Bruce crossed his arms. Jason turned to Dick instead.

“But Alfred said it was fine sometimes. Dick, can’t you order one?”

Tim really wished the couch would swallow him up. He really wished he could disappear. He stared forward, unblinking.

They don’t know. They don’t know. They don’t know.

Dick was frowning, but he smoothed his expression over. “Nah, we're already getting candy. You want Milk Duds, Jay?”

Jason scoffed. “Don’t you dare get me Milk Duds. I want peanut butter M&M’s. What do you want, Tim?

Tim jerked at bring addressed, his breathing resumed. He swallowed down his gathering saliva and cleared his throat.

“Anything is fine,” he said weakly.

“Sorry, you gotta pick, or Dick will York Peppermint Patty your ass.”

“Jason,” Bruce sighed.

“Your butt,” Jason corrected, rolling his eyes.

“Red Vines?” Tim suggested. He had a memory of his Dad taking him to the movies once. He didn’t remember the movie,  but he remembered that his father had bought him a pack of Red Vines and a slushie. Tim had consumed it all. He had just been so excited to spend time with his dad, he hadnt really noticed how fast he ate them. He had a stomachache afterwards, but he didn’t care. He had just been so happy.

That had been years ago.

“Classic,” Dick remarked. “You want some wax candy, old man?” Dick raised an eyebrow at Bruce. Bruce rubbed at his eyes, but he smiled ever so slightly.

“Some salt water taffy, if they have it.”

Jason snorted. “Okay, grandpa.”

Tim allowed his lips to twitch up in a smile. There was no more talk of pizza and they all seemed so at ease and glad to be around each other. He wasn’t in danger here.

Tim leaned back into the couch, muscles relaxing.

It was looking like a pretty nice birthday after all.

They watched Dracula and were through most of The Mummy when Alfred called them for dinner.

It was a lasagna, and Tim was pleased to see the breadsticks he had enjoyed before were at the table again. He ate too much, but he avoided stealing any of the food for later. Maybe because of the pizza incident. He swore Dick seemed to be watching him, but every time Tim looked, he was always turned away, acting like he hadn’t been staring.

Maybe Tim was imagining it.

After dinner, they went back to movies and Tim had popcorn and ate quite a few red vines. Dick had purchased the party sized container for him. A fact that made Bruce shake his head, but he didn’t comment further.

Feeling full and comfortable,Tim found his eyes drooping and, without meaning to, he fell asleep during Godzilla. One moment, a man in a Godzilla suit was terrorizing a city, and the next, Tim was waking up to the lights out and the TV playing low.

Someone had thrown a blanket over him. It was soft and warm. Tim was going to drift back to sleep when he caught the sound of his name. Ears burning, he strained to hear.

“I’m telling you, I think it’s the nanny.”

“B looked into the nanny, though.”

Was Bruce not in the room anymore? Were they really talking about him? About his fake/out-of-state nanny?

“Someone is hurting him,” Jason hissed.

“Okay, Jay. I believe you, but you said you’ve never seen marks on him or anything.”

The room was silent for a long moment.

“There are lots of ways you can hurt someone.” Jason whispered. There was more silence and Tim heard Dick shuffling around, he imagined him scooting closer to his brother.

“We’ll keep an eye on him.”

If Jason replied, Tim didn’t hear it. They were too quiet now and Tim’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears.

He kept his breathing even as his mind turned. They were looking too closely at him. The biggest rule in his parents game was that it was a secret. He couldn’t risk them finding out. Tim’s eyes stung under his closed lids.  

He wouldn’t be able to come over anymore.

With a horrible feeling in his stomach, he eventually fell back into a fitful sleep.

Tim left the Waynes’ house right after breakfast. Jason had insisted on walking him again. They moved along without a word, with Tim carrying a small Tupperware of muffins that Alfred had insisted he take. The man said he had made too many, but Tim had been wary of the kindness. They thought something was wrong. They thought Mrs. Mac wasn’t feeding him or something and Tim regretted all the times he had eaten more than his fill. Had they noticed the missing granola bars? Had they connected him to the pizza incident?

Tim had been too lax. It was never supposed to go this far.

“Tim?” Jason finally spoke up as they neared his driveway. Tim hummed in response. Feeling less and less like talking.

“I just wanted to say, you can come over anytime.”

Right. They had said that before.

“Okay,” Tim forced the word out, sounding too soft to be casual.

“I’m going to text you the code for our gate. So you can just come up to the house when you want.”

“Thanks,” Tim mumbled, staring at the ground.

“And if you need anything, text me, okay? I can help you.”

Tim’s fingers pressed into the plastic Tupperware. He bit his lower lip because for one moment he wanted to give into that.

Help me.

“I’m alright.”

Because that wasn’t how the game was played.

“Yeah,” Jason kicked at the gravel on Tim’s driveway. “I know. But if you ever aren’t alright. You can tell me.”

This wasn’t fair.

“Okay,” he muttered, because it was what Jason wanted to hear. “Bye, Jason.” Tim walked up his driveway without looking back. He heard Jason kick the gravel again, but he did not follow him.

Once inside, Tim locked the door and sunk slowly to the floor. The heat pressed around him, suffocating and unrelenting. For several moments, he let it envelop him, giving into its hold.

In a few minutes he would get up and open the windows and check his pantry and count the $8 in his wallet. But for now, he could sit in his empty house and feel the biting loneliness that buried itself near his heart.

Sweat was dripping down his face by the time Tim slowly found his feet and got back to work.

Another Wednesday night found Tim going through the neighborhood trash cans again. He was really good at moving quickly and staying out of sight. However, all the stealth in the world would not make food appear where there wasn’t any. He visited ten different houses and only had a few half eaten pop tarts and wilted salad to show for it.

Hot, tired and frustrated, he decided to go back home and regroup. Maybe he would go out again when he could manage to stop soaking his hoodie in sweat.

He was almost home, when he dared to glance down the street at the Waynes’ trash bins. He had been avoiding them, but curiosity won out.

Something was weird.

He blinked and moved a little closer.

It was hard to see in the dim light, but sitting on top of the trash can was a perfectly placed, flat, square box.

Like a pizza box.

Tim’s stomach did a swoop.

He inched a bit closer.

It was there on purpose and Tim didn’t know what it meant. Did they know it was him? Or was Dick just showing kindness to a stranger? Did they position their cameras to have a better angle? Was this some sort of trap?

Was Tim going to pass up free food when he desperately needed it?

Tim’s stomach growled, making the decision for him. If he was quick and if he didn’t directly go back home… There was no evidence it was him.

Tim crossed the street. Staying as far from his own driveway as he could. He would run in, grab the box and run back. He would even take a few laps around the block before heading home.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he took off at a sprint, he snatched the box from it’s garbage can pedestal and ran back, not slowing down even for a second. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it would burst from his chest. By the time had taken a lap around the block his legs were shaking, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the exertion or nerves.

He eventually crept home, clutching the box to his chest.

Once he was in his kitchen, he turned his flashlight on and set the box on the counter. Tim took several steadying breaths before he flipped the lid open eagerly and found not just a few slices, but an entire pepperoni pizza.

Dick had left him a whole pizza, not just leftovers.

Tim licked his dry lips as he calculated how long he could keep the pizza before it went bad. At least a day, hopefully.

He reached for his first slice when his flashlight caught something on the inside of the lid. He turned his light to shine on it more clearly and he saw the message there, scribbled in dark sharpie.

“If you ever need help, you can call.”

And there was a number listed. Not Jason’s and probably not even Dick’s. Because why would that man put his actual phone number? He didn’t know the kid digging through his trash. It was most likely for a burner phone.

Tim stared for a minute before taking out his phone and saving the number.

He wouldn’t need to use it. It was just a part of his batwatching really. Always better to have as much data as he could get.

There had been a few Wednesdays between the first pizza incident and tonight. Had Dick been leaving out food this whole time? Tim hadn’t looked, too embarrassed about what happened before.

Maybe he shouldn’t have taken it. Tim’s stomach disagreed loudly and he soon dug in like he was starving, like this was his last meal.

He was too hungry to care about giving himself away. He wasn’t planning on seeing the Waynes again this summer, so this had to be okay.

Tim turned his radio on and listened to the now familiar music fill his house.

He was going to be okay.

He turned his phone off for the night and settled down on his kitchen floor, pizza box in front of him and radio playing quietly, Tim made the most of his situation. Just like he always did.

He didn’t need any more help

Tim came up with a lie to text Jason. He had to get the boy to stop inviting him over. He knew the older boy was checking up on him. And he couldn’t have that.

My parents are coming home tomorrow. I will see you at school.  

Originally, Tim’s lie had been more extravagant with a tale about his parents coming back and taking him off to London for a few days before the start of school. But the thought of his parents returning and taking him somewhere… That lie hurt.

So he kept it simple.

Not suspicious at all.

With that taken care of, Tim turned his mind to his more present problem. Wednesday night had not provided enough food. Even with the pizza, he was out of almost e erything and only had $4 left. Running out of options, Tim put on his batwatching gear and went into the city on a Saturday night.

Some part of him still felt a surge of excitement. He had always loved batwatching. If he looked at it that way, it wasn’t so bad.

He was just going into the city like he used to. He just also happened to be dumpster diving.

He already knew the best spots. He knew how to remain hidden. In many ways he had been prepared for this. He wouldn’t go into the worst part of town. He just needed to find an easy to reach dumpster that wasn’t locked.

He knew a few places that were less likely to be crowded and get him mugged or beat up. He went into the city earlier than usual, eager to get out of his house. Also, he thought it would be good to get to the dumpsters as soon as the grocery stores and restaurants closed. The sooner he got enough food to last for a few days at least, he could climb to his favorite spot and watch for Batman.

It was still uncomfortably hot, but the radio had said it would be cooling down in a few days. Tim couldn’t wait.

He was careful in his search of the city dumpsters. He used a pocket knife to open any bags on top and, if he didn’t find anything right away, he quickly moved on. He didn’t linger. After searching six dumpsters, Tim had a backpack full of expired sandwiches, stale crackers and bruised fruit.

Not bad at all.

He sat near his favorite ledge and tried one of the sandwiches. The bread had grown soggy and the lettuce was withered, but it wasn’t the worst thing he had eaten. He was eyeing a second sandwich when he heard the familiar sound of a grappling gun. Ducking down, he peered over his ledge just in time to see Nightwing swing into view. He was back on patrol! His shoulder must be better.

Nightwing landed on a building and waited a moment before he was joined by Robin. The two spoke briefly to each other and Tim watched Nightwing roll his shoulder in an exaggerated motion. Tim guessed they were talking about the injury. It looked like he was doing fine.

Nightwing laughed at something Robin said and then they were both off, swinging through the night.

Tim sighed. He hadn’t brought his camera tonight. He had been worrying about it taking up space in his bag. Without it, batwatching wasn’t the same. But still, it was nice to see them again. This was how it was supposed to be. Tim was never meant to be a part of any of it. He was supposed to look from the outside.

Tim absently opened his next sandwich and took a bite. It was roast beef. Which he had never liked, but he forced it down, barely tasting it. Once the sandwich was gone, Tim collected his wrappers and headed back home for the night.

He didn’t like the pain of loneliness in his stomach, but he just ignored it and reminded himself that this was how it was supposed to be.

When he finally arrived home, all he wanted to do was get some sleep. He stretched out on the floor and stared at the kitchen ceiling until the sunlight began to brighten the room and he slipped into a restless sleep.

Tim knew it would be warm when he woke up, but he hadn’t thought that his insides would be burning too.

Confused and half asleep, Tim stumbled from the kitchen. Pain was radiating from his middle and he didn’t know what to do to make it stop. Standing up was a mistake as it sent his world tilting sideways.

He barely made it to the guest bathroom before he was throwing up his entire stomach’s contents into the toilet.

While gagging, Tim could only think about how he would have to fill the toilet's tank with water to get it to flush and he didn’t think he had enough spare water to do it.

The  vomiting continued until Tim’s ears were ringing and his world wavered around the edges. With his stomach cramping like it never had before in his life, he slipped completely onto the bathroom floor and and pressed his sweating face into the tiles. He tried to concentrate on breathing.

He hadn’t been careful enough.

He hadn’t been paying attention to what he ate last night.

He had just been so hungry.

Tim’s breathing hitched, but he swallowed down a sob. Crying wasn’t going to help him now.

He didn’t know how long he stayed on the floor, breathing through sharp pain, but when he forced himself up, he realized for the first time that he might be in real trouble.

He couldn’t think, it was too hot and his stomach kept cramping up before he could form any kind of real plan.

Water. Drink water.

Tim dragged himself back towards his kitchen, leveraging himself up with the use of a settee in their sitting room. He tried to stand up fully, but the wave of nausea hit him without warning.

He puked on an antique chair that nobody in the house had ever dared to touch.

Groaning, Tim managed to drag himself to the kitchen, where he dropped down and pressed his sweaty forehead pressed into the floor.

With monumental effort he grabbed his half filled water bottle and forced down one sip before his stomach rolled.

Tim gave up on drinking and curled up as tight as he could, wishing for it to stop.

He didn’t know how much time had passed with him like that, but he was eventually able to move a little bit without pain.

With shaking fingers, he turned his radio on and listened to the voices drift in through the static.

A lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed that down too.

It was food poisoning. He just needed to wait it out.

Tim drifted a bit, his overheated skin not finding any more relief from the kitchen tiles. He knew he needed to drink, he needed to move. But he just couldn’t.

When Tim opened his eyes, the room had dimmed. He wanted to go back to sleep, but his stomach gave another lurch and he was struggling to stand, to get somewhere…

He ended up at the kitchen sink and he would have to clean it later, but it was all he could do to stand up and hurl bile into the basin.

When he was finally finished, he pulled his shirt off over his head. It was soaked with sweat and had not escaped the splattering of vomit.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, soiled shirt in hand, and did a slow turn.

He needed to wash up.

Slowly, Tim sunk back down and made another attempt at drinking from his water bottle.

It was warm, like everything else in the house and it brought little relief to his burning throat.

Absently, Tim tapped at his phone on the floor. He was supposed to go to the library to charge it today. A blank screen stared back at him.

It was dead then.

Not that it mattered. Tim couldn’t call for help. He wasn’t supposed to.

Tim curled up and fought back the sobs that threatened to overcome him. He was not a baby. He didn’t need help for a tummy ache.

Tim turned the radio up.

He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

The next time Tim opened his eyes, it was completely dark. He gagged, bringing up only a bit of bile on the floor. He pushed himself away from the mess.

Tim took several deep breaths before he realized it was too quiet. He grabbed his flashlight and swiveled his gaze to the radio, sitting silent on the floor. He reached for the knobs, turned them with trembling hands. Nothing happened. No music. No static. No crackle of life. No voices.

The batteries were dead.

Tim's breath hitched. He pulled the radio close, tapping at worn plastic, hoping he was wrong.

He turned it off and on, but it remained lifeless. He didn’t have anymore batteries of the right size. It was why he always turned the radio off before falling asleep now. But he had made a mistake. Left it on all night and now it was gone and the house was empty and quiet and maybe he was dying.

A sob tore from his throat and it hurt, but he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop any of it. His body shook as he heaved great sobs. He clenched the radio tightly and cried until he gagged and was sick.

He lay there crying loudly, knowing there was nobody to hear anyway.

That stabbing loneliness struck his heart and all he could do was weep. A few words made their way past his lips and he might have called out for help or maybe for his parents.

He thought of Jason’s number in his phone. Of Dick’s.

If he hadn’t let his phone die, he would have thrown the game away now to call them.

He would lose now, if it meant he could get help.

It was too late. Too late.

Tim curled himself tightly into a ball and sobbed miserably until he fell unconscious.

Tim’s head was swimming when he woke up.

There was light outside. And while Tim didn’t feel much better, some of his nausea had faded. He forced his arms to pull himself up and walked on shaking legs from the kitchen.

He was going to get out of the house if it was the last thing he did.

He had entered the foyer when a strange noise came to his attention. His gaze lingered at the front door.

There was a key in the lock.

Someone was coming in.

He stared, blinking, wondering if he was hallucinating.

A moment later, the door swung open and the loudest string of curse words echoed through the house.

“What in the hell is going on?!”

Tim stared at the image of his father in the doorway. His mother was just over his shoulder peering into the house with a wrinkled nose.

At the same time both of their eyes landed on him. Tim was vaguely aware that he was shirtless and had vomit on his shorts and in his hair.

He was pretty sure it was puke at least as he seemed to have oddly stopped sweating, even though it was obscenely hot.

“Timothy,” his mother regained her ability to speak first after seeing him. “What have you done?”

The iciness of the tone cut through him. Every fiber of his being whispered to him that he was in trouble.

Tim gaped like a fish, his voice lost from shock and pain.

Had they even emailed that they were coming home? Tim couldn’t remember the last time he had checked. He had been worrying about using up the phone battery and he had been too concerned about when he would next be able to eat.

Fury was evident on his father’s face and he could do nothing as the man grabbed his arms and shook him. He was asking questions. Demanding to know what that smell was and what had happened to the air conditioning and what the hell did Tim think he was wearing…

“How long has the air conditioning not been working, Timothy?” his mother’s voice cut through his dad’s tirade.

Tim shook his head.

“I don’t know.’ He finally rasped. Because Tim had lost track of the days now.

“There are artifacts that are meant to be in a temperature controlled environment. How long has it been like this?” His mother enunciated every word with a sharpness Tim had rarely heard before.

His father had stopped shaking him, but the man’s fingers still dug into his thin arms.

“Beginning of July,” Tim dimly remembered. Both of his parents swore and his father released him. His mother was dialing a number on her phone, saying something about damages and insurance. She walked towards the kitchen and Tim's heart managed to drop somehow lower as he realized the mess that waited there. However, at the same time, his father turned to storm into the sitting room.

They had left the front door open and Tim stared past the front steps at his parents suitcases sitting in the driveway. He always used to help them with the cases. Was he meant to now?

Tim felt like his legs were about to give out on him when his father let out an absolute roar of fury.

“WHAT HAS HE DONE TO THIS CHAIR?”

The chair he had thrown up on. He hadn’t cleaned it up.

“I’M GOING TO KILL THAT BOY!”

Tim’s legs, wobbly as they were, responded to the fear and the rush of adrenaline as he stumbled toward the open door.

He threw himself down the steps, he knew he fell on his hands, because they stung badly by the time he got to the end of the driveway, but he didn’t stop.

He heard his parents’ raised voices behind him, but he did not stop going. Running, falling, dragging his hurt body down the street and to the Wayne’s gate. He entered the code Jason had given him, the one he had memorized with no intention of using. The gate clicked and Tim pushed it open, distancing himself as much as he could from his house.

He just needed to make it across the lawn and up the stairs. And. And...

Tim’s mind dragged along slowly, but his legs kept moving. He felt grass under his feet and the sun beating on his bare back and a dog barking.

“Ace! Come on! Ace, what are y-“

The shouting stopped and Tim stared at Jason, holding a Frisbee in his hand, staring like he had seen a ghost.

“Tim?” Jason gasped. He felt like he was floating, like maybe this wasn’t real.

“Thought I could win,” Tim gasped out. He blearily registered Jason’s look of confusion and then worry as the boy launched forward, arms outstretched because Tim was… falling. Falling.

And then it was dark.

Chapter Text

For a few seconds, the majority of Jason’s Robin training left him and he was a scared kid screaming for his dad on his front lawn.

He started actually assessing Tim when he heard Bruce shouting in response to his yelling, but, in the moment, Jason couldn’t find a pulse. But the kid was breathing, he had not just died in Jason’s arms.

Bruce was suddenly there, casting a shadow over them both and Jason was stuck between clinging to Tim and handing him to his father, knowing the man could fix it, he had to fix it. Bruce had kept telling Jason that he was taking care of things and now something awful had happened just like Jason had felt it would.

Another set of arms wrapped around his shoulders as Bruce checked Tim’s vitals. He realized that Dick was shushing him, telling him to breathe and he did just that. He took in a deep breath and felt a calm Robin mask slip into place. He needed to stay calm to help Tim.

Things happened quickly after that.

Alfred pulled a car around, Tim was loaded in the backseat with Jason resting the kid’s head in his lap, while Dick climbed in and placed the boy’s bare feet across his knees.

“We could have taken him downstairs,” Jason suggested. It would have been quicker.

“We need official channels,” Bruce said tersely in a way that staved off any questions.

Bruce broke every traffic law getting them to the hospital, the car sped and swerved and the movement seemed to rouse Tim enough that he opened his eyes, but the boy only stared blankly at his surroundings before he let out something that sounded like a sob.

“You’ll be okay,” Jason whispered, pressing a hand across Tim’s overheated forehead. “You’re going to be fine,” he promised.

Tim’s forehead crinkled and then his eyes fell shut once more. Unconscious to the world and to the reassurances that Jason kept muttering in his ear.

They were soon at the hospital and Tim was taken away on a gurney almost immediately.

Long after he was gone, Jason was still whispering to himself.

“You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

He sat in the waiting room, with Dick’s arm around him, but all he felt was a deep sense of shame. He had known Tim was in trouble. He had known it. And still, in the end, he couldn’t do anything to help. He should have done more.

Bruce came back from wherever he had wandered off to and set a hand on the back of Jason’s neck.

“My fault,” Jason muttered so quietly that Bruce almost didn’t hear. Almost. Bruce’s hand moved to his son's back as he sat next to him on the hard plastic chair, leaning close.

“Never, Jason. The fault is mine.”

Jason didn’t argue, but he leaned into Bruce’s side. Bruce ran his fingers through his son’s hair and apologized because it was all he could do. He caught Dick’s look from his seat beside Jason; the older boy looked pained.

“It’s not your fault,” Dick finally said, but his words sounded hollow. Bruce shook his head in disagreement.

He had missed everything important in the last month with Timothy Drake.

Batman was meant to do better than this.

In the beginning of July, Bruce had gone to the kitchen after patrol to find a shadow moving about the room.

 “Jason?” The kitchen light flicked on, illuminating the boy where he stood at the door to the pantry. Jason turned, a box of granola bars in his hand. He was listing to the side, eyes blinking in the bright light.

“What?” He grumbled, already shuffling towards the exit.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Bruce guessed. They had been more frequent lately. And it must have been an unsettling one, if Jason was taking more food up to his room.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jason pulled the box of granola bars to his chest.

“Okay, Jaylad, we don’t have to.”

Jason stopped, as if he was considering something.  

“Can I invite Tim over tomorrow?” Jason knew he didn’t even need to ask. Bruce liked having the neighbor boy around. Though he didn’t like the way his son started hoarding food after hanging out with him.

“If you want to.” Bruce shrugged. Jason yawned and moved past him to the stairs.

“Good night, Jason.” Bruce called. His son waved him off without another word. Bruce sighed, closing the pantry door.

Timothy Drake was a spot of worry for them. Bruce had not found anything wrong with the nanny. But the boy still weighed on his mind. He knew it worried Jason; watching Tim hide food away when he thought nobody was looking. And the fact that Tim just seemed to be alone all the time.

Bruce frowned as he went back to his room. He would look into the nanny again in the morning. For now, he would just create a welcoming environment for their neighbor, a safe space.

Mrs. McIlvaine was in Arizona. Bruce had checked that fact many times, feeling foolish that he had overlooked such a thing. It meant Tim was lying about his new nanny’s identity. He didn’t know why Tim would lie, but knew it must be important. In his experience, none of the Drakes did anything without reason.

“You have that look, old man,” Dick came up behind him with his arms crossed. Tim had gone home this morning following their movie night and Bruce had spent his time down in the cave ever since he left.

Bruce hummed, but he glanced up at Dick, watching as the young man stared over at where his Nightwing suit was kept.

“How is your shoulder?” Bruce asked, closing out his latest research windows.

“I told you that bullet was barely more than a graze. You worry too much.” Dick motioned to the now blank computer screen. “What did you find out about Tim’s nanny?”

Bruce weighed his options. He had encouraged Jason to invite the Drake boy over, he had made it clear that the child could come over whenever he wanted. But Tim's presence set something off in Jason. A protective streak, of course, but also a deep loneliness that made him cagey and irritated if he was questioned. He knew Jason was hoarding more food than usual, and he had never tried to stop him, but his son never wanted to talk about it. So Bruce looked into the Drake nanny on his own, involving Jason as little as possible. He deemed that was for the best.

“He hasn’t told us who she really is.” Bruce settled on. “I can’t decide why he would lie about her.”

“Do you think he is in danger?” Dick asked abruptly.

Bruce frowned. “Not in immediate danger.”

Dick scoffed and turned to leave. “Jason disagrees,” he said as he left.

Bruce hummed, but didn’t say anymore.

“I’m ordering pizza,” Dick called from the stairs. “You don’t get to have any.”

And then he was gone.

Bruce sighed and then opened up a new case he had been working on. As he worked, his mind mulled over thoughts of his sons and Tim Drake.

Dick agreed with Jason. Which meant Bruce needed to do more.

He would look into the nanny again after he worked on his other cases for a bit. There had been some reports of drug traffickers pushing some new kind of drug into Gotham. He needed to work on that first. Still. Thoughts of his neighbor bothered him as he researched.  

It would be easier if the boy would just stay instead of always returning home.

But things were rarely so easy.

“Tim’s parents don’t like me, right?”

Bruce’s head snapped up from his tablet. They had been having a quiet breakfast in the kitchen when Jason’s question came out of nowhere.  

“Did they say something?” Bruce set his tablet down on the kitchen island.

Jason pursed his lips. “His mom pulled him away from me at a gala once. She tried to be all casual about it, but I could tell.”

“I’m so sorry, Jaylad.” Bruce frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jason shrugged. “It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.”

“But now?” he prompted. Jason swirled his spoon around in his cereal bowl, before answering.

"Tim texted. He said his parents are home and he won’t see me until school starts.”

Bruce blinked. Interesting. Last he had checked, the Drakes were in Spain, but perhaps they had returned early. He hadn’t found any information on Tim’s current nanny and he believed whoever she was, she was simply not showing up to work to look after Tim. Bruce had already tried calling the Drakes’ assistants, but the only information he had received was that Janet’s assistant had been fired three months ago and had not been replaced. She was the one who handled all things related to the Drake home. And that included Tim. Nobody could tell him a thing about the nanny and Bruce thought the paperwork had been lost or perhaps it had been a verbal agreement. He had not been able to contact the Drakes themselves either. If they were home now, then Bruce might have a chance to meet them and figure out what had happened these last few weeks.

“I’m sorry, Jaylad.” Bruce set a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’re a good friend to Tim.”

Jason crossed his arms and sunk down in his seat. “You’re going to talk to them right? At least tell them the nanny is no good. She wasn’t even there whenever I dropped him off.”

“Of course.”

Jason gathered up his cereal bowl and stood to leave, but Bruce caught his sleeve before he could turn from the island.

“It isn’t right for them to treat you badly.” Bruce was sure to keep eye contact with his son. “You are worth everything.”

Jason looked away and took a steadying breath before rolling his eyes and turning back to Bruce.

“The world shall deal by you as it does by me, till one or both of us quit it for a better.” Jason said with his lip twitching up into a smile.

Bruce hummed. “That’s not Austin.”

“Dickens.” Jason declared as he turned, breaking Bruce’s hold on his sleeve.

Bruce hummed again. He watched his son rinse his bowl before putting it in the dishwasher and heading out of the kitchen.

If Bruce could, he would have the world always treat his sons with all the love and care they deserved. He looked down back at his tablet and took a deep breath.  

He had to do his best for them.

After the text from Timothy, Dick and Jason went on patrol together, and seeing that Jason felt down, Dick agreed to stay until his brother’s birthday and patrol as much as they could. Bruce would rather Dick rest his arm a few more days, but he never could stop his oldest son when he set his mind to something. And Jason needed some time away with his brother.

His boys seemed happier. Tim Drake was being taken care of by his parents. Bruce was trying to schedule a meeting with them as soon as possible. If Jack's assistant didn’t get back to him in a day, he would go over to visit the house himself.

He hadn’t realized the mistake he had made.

The day he got in contact with the Drakes’ assistant to attempt to schedule a meeting, he found out that the Drakes’ plane had not yet landed. It was the same day that would find Tim falling back into their lives.

He had made so many mistakes.

When Bruce walked into his hospital room with a careful smile. Tim still had his IV in and the finger shaped  bruises on his upper arms peeked out from the sleeves of his hospital gown, making him feel far more exposed than he was. For a long time, Tim could only stare as the man carefully sat down on the edge of the hospital chair. Neither of them spoke for a moment before Bruce cleared his throat.

“Sounds like you’ll be out in a few days.” Bruce broke the silence, glancing around the room, maybe taking in the horribly painted walls of the pediatric unit. “Jason is excited for you to be at the manor for his birthday.”

Tim’s gaze drifted down to his own hands neatly folded in his lap. The social worker had said he would be going home with Bruce Wayne. That his parents were under investigation and that he would be separated from them for a while. Maybe forever.

When he was home, when he was so sick, he had been willing to throw the game away just to get help, but now…

Tim didn’t know what to feel.

His parents had come home. The one thing he had been working towards. But it had all gone wrong and now, his whole life was derailed.

He had lost everything.

There was a hollow feeling in his chest that he fought to ignore. Better to sit still and be silent. He was good at that. Some of the first games he ever played were silent ones.

The whole room was quiet and Tim chanced a glance at Bruce to find the man staring at his upper arm, at the bruises there. Tim tugged at the sleeve of his hospital gown, but it wasn’t enough to hide the marks. Tim’s father had never hurt him like that before. He had told the social worker, but she had only looked at him with pity after that.

Bruce sighed before he leaned forward slightly.

“Tim, have I ever told you about the first time we met?”

Tim shook his head.

“I saw you when you were about a year old. Your parents showed you off at a party before handing you to a nanny, but when we really met, I think you were about 4.” Bruce smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Tim remembered the meeting, though he couldn’t remember what was said, he just remembered thinking that Mr. Wayne was nice.

“You were standing at the edge of the room.” Bruce sat up straight. “Completely still. And I asked you what you were doing on your own like that. Do you remember what you told me?”

Tim shook his head.

“You said, ‘I have to be quiet to win the game.’ When I asked you what you meant, you told me that your parents liked to play games like that.” Bruce leaned back. “I hadn’t thought about it in years, and at the time, I just remember thinking that I couldn’t be that kind of parent.” Bruce motioned with his hand through the air before continuing. “I had just taken in Dick at the time. We were still figuring things out.”

There was a long pause. The uncomfortable chair underneath Bruce squeaked when he shifted his weight.

“I was good at that game.” Tim’s voice creaked. Except for when he had to talk to the social worker, he hadn't been speaking much. Bruce hummed.

“Did your parents play a lot of games like that?"

Tim shrugged. Bruce cleared his throat and quickly changed tactics.

“Jason told me that you said something about winning before you collapsed. What game were you playing this time, Tim?”

That hollow feeling in Tim’s chest yawned huge and ugly. He didn’t know why Bruce asking made it hurt so much. He felt like Bruce was figuring everything out and he didn’t understand why that felt so scary.

Tim shrugged again, blinking his suddenly watering eyes.

“Doesn’t matter anymore. I lost,” Tim choked. Bruce let out a long exhale.

“Y’know, I’ve been looking over some files recently.” Bruce cleared his throat again, and Tim furrowed his brow. “I thought your nanny must have taken the job without any kind of paperwork. And I thought your parents were home sooner than they were. I was wrong and I should have pursued the whole matter further.” Bruce set a hand on the bed’s siderail. “I am very sorry for not helping you more.”

Tim opened and shut his mouth. Bruce couldn’t be serious. He was pretty sure his visits to the Wayne’s had been the only reason he hadn’t lost sooner.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Tim finally spoke up. “I didn’t tell the truth.” He sat up fully in the hospital bed. “You weren’t supposed to know about my nanny, about my parents, about the water or the electricity or the-the f-food.” Tim felt his voice catch and when he finally looked up to meet the man’s eyes, he couldn’t believe the concern he saw there.

Bruce was worried about him. Even though Tim had lied and lost the game so badly.

“I tried.” Tim desperately explained to him. “I tried to do a good job.”

“Tim, I’ve read over the case, all your paperwork. You did amazing, you did so well.” Bruce had both hands at the rail now. “But you shouldn’t have had to do all that. Someone should have been looking after you.”

The social worker had said the same thing when Tim told her he didn’t understand what she meant when she said the word ‘neglect.’ Tim hadn’t believed her at the time, but now, hearing it from Batman, something fragile broke in his chest.

“My parents were so mad. But I tried, I tried-”

Without warning, Tim burst into tears. He was heaving great sobs and trying to explain himself, but none of his words were making it past his throat. He was stuck and somehow still alone. Maybe part of him was still back at his home on the kitchen floor, clinging to a dead radio. Maybe he had never made it out of the house.

Maybe he never would.

Tim choked and stuttered on air that was refusing to go into his lungs.

Warmth wrapped around him and he realized Bruce was pulling him into his arms.

“Sweetheart, breathe.” Bruce whispered before a beeping sounded. Tim jolted at the noise, but Bruce held him close. “It’s just your pulse oximeter going off. Take a nice, big breath.”

Tim took huge gasping breaths and the beeping subsided.

“There we are,” Bruce murmured into his hair. “It’s going to be alright. I promise, you’re going to be alright.”

Tim pressed his face into the man’s $100 shirt and ruined it with his tears. But Bruce stayed close anyway, talking to him, rubbing his back and promising over and over that he would be alright now.

It was the first time that he could remember someone holding him when he cried.

On that day, Tim felt that hollow space in his chest start to feel up with something warm.

They had let Jason come into his hospital room right before he was discharged.

The older boy was talking excitedly about the plans for the night and Tim could only hum as he slipped his feet into shoes that were a bit too big.

Bruce had bought them. The man had bought Tim everything he was currently wearing, in fact, since he had showed up on their lawn in only a pair of cheap shorts. They said he would be able to get his clothes from home soon, but for now, Bruce was quickly buying Tim anything he might need.

Tim frowned at the sneakers, trying not to think about how his pair at home had started to feel a bit snug. He had been growing and he hadn’t exactly had the money to buy new shoes for himself in a long time.  

“Wait a second. Wait a second.” Jason interrupted his own monologue. “Tim.” Jason grabbed Tim’s arm and turned it so he could read the horrible hospital band on his wrist. “Your birthday is July 19th?”

Tim pursed his lips, wondering if he could lie. Finally, he gave a short nod. Jason dropped his arm like it had burned him. The older boy quickly pulled out his phone and began scrolling through old text messages. After a moment, he threw his head back and groaned. “Are you kidding? The day of the water gun fight?”

“It was a good day,” Tim mumbled at his shoes.

“Not a birthday though! Oh my god. We’re going to have a do over. You can share mine. Alfred already does.”

“Oh, no that’s ok.” Tim waved his arms, he had already taken so much from them. “That was the best birthday I ever had!”

Jason looked like he had been punched.

“Really?” Jason was frowning deeply. “That’s depressing, dude.” He set a hand on Tim’s back. “No arguing. We can share this year, and next year, you’ll have your own party.”

Tim bit his lip. “You think I’ll be with you guys next year?” He whispered.

Jason froze. “Well, I mean, I figure. I mean, Bruce said you would be staying a while, right?” Jason scratched the back of his head.

Yes, Bruce had said Tim’s parents were under investigation and that it was serious and Tim would most likely be staying with them long term. But a year?  In his mind, he supposed he just thought that his parents would get him back eventually. 

“Do you not want to stay, Tim?” Jason asked quietly, ducking his head slightly to get a better view of his face.

Tim pulled on the front of his new shirt. “I do, I just…” Tim looked down at his shoes. “You guys shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

Jason didn’t answer, until Tim got the courage to glance up and meet his eyes.

“We want to take care of you.” Jason spoke clearly saying each word with a little too much emphasis. “That’s what family does. That’s what brothers do. Take care of each other.”

Tim felt his mouth fall open. “Brothers?” He had known he would be a foster placement. But a brother? He hadn’t thought about it that way. “We’ll be brothers?” Tim whispered.

“Well, yeah. I kind of already was thinking of you like that anyway. So-“

Jason was cut off by two skinny arms wrapping around him.

“Thank you, Jason.” Tim mumbled into his shirt. The older boy patted his hair.

“Of course, baby bird.”

Warmth grew in his chest. He still didn’t know what he felt about his parents and a part of him felt incredibly disloyal for being so happy with Jason’s words. But Tim had spent so many nights alone, wishing he could be a part of the Wayne family. Even if it wasn’t for forever.  

When Bruce came into the room, he smiled at them both and gently brushed Tim’s hair from his forehead.

“Ready to go home, bud?”

Tim nodded. And, even though he was too old for such things, he took Bruce’s hand and walked out with him to the waiting car.

Dick and Alfred were both waiting outside, smiling broadly at him. Dick pulled him into a hug before ushering him into the backseat.

Sitting between Jason and Dick, Tim felt the empty space in his chest fill up a little more.

Bruce had told him it was okay if he had a hard time adjusting.

But it didn’t help him feel better when he lay awake at night staring at the ceiling, thinking, worrying…

The nightlight was a testament to the electricity in the house, the cool air was proof of the air conditioning working, the pipes made noises because of the water there.

He was being taken care of. There was no reason to be worried. And yet.

Tim found himself in the kitchen standing at the opened pantry door, staring at the shelves.

They were fully stocked and Alfred had been sure to pick up snacks that Tim had mentioned liking.

There was enough food.

Tim paced the kitchen, hoping the worry would die down. Bruce told him he didn’t need to worry about doing anything to help with the house. He had told him to just rest before the start of the school year in a few weeks. He had even given Tim pocket money.

But Tim had never been expected to do nothing before.  

He slipped down to the floor and stared at the opened pantry. He would get up in a moment and go back to bed. He just needed a moment…

The light in the kitchen flicked on and Tim jumped back into consciousness. He had slipped sideways onto the floor and was curled up, still staring at the pantry, when he must have dozed off.

Tim looked up to see Jason standing in the doorway, his hand still on the light switch. The boy’s hair was sticking up and he blinked blearily at Tim.

“Okay,” Jason muttered after a moment, then he turned and left. Tim stared after him, frozen on the floor. What was happening? Was he going to tell Bruce? Was Tim in trouble? He hadn’t meant to fall asleep here!

Jason soon shuffled back into the room, pillows and throw blankets from the couch in his arms. He flipped the light off with an elbow, before dropping a pillow and blanket on the floor and settling down a few feet from Tim. He shoved a pillow and blanket in Tim’s direction, but didn’t say anything else.

Tim slowly slipped the couch pillow under his own head and stared at the ceiling. The only light was coming from some nightlight plugged in under one of the cabinets.

“I’ve slept in worse places.” Jason finally spoke. “It’s okay, Tim.”

Tim bit his lip and forced his breathing to slow.

“You don’t have to stay,” he whispered.

“Sleep,” Jason ordered. At that moment the click of dog nails was heard on the kitchen tiles and Ace trotted happily into the room. With a huff, the German Shepherd plopped down between the boys and stuck his nose in Tim’s face before settling.

Jason sighed. “Needy ass dog,” he grumbled. Ace’s tail thumped the floor once before going still.

Tim curled up on his side and stroked Ace’s ears.

They probably should not sleep on the floor all night. Tim would get up and go back to his room in a minute.

Just one more minute.

Tim felt tile under his cheek and jolted fully awake, a surge of urgency rushing through him, telling him to get up and start his day before it got too hot to move. The cool air caught up to his senses and he blinked in the morning light filtering in through the kitchen window.

Tim heard the rustle of cloth and turned to see Jason still passed out near him, as well as Dick stretched out on the floor. The oldest boy was awake and was scrolling on his phone. Ace had moved and flopped across Dick’s chest, burying his face in his neck.

Dick smiled at Tim. “Morning,” he mouthed.

Tim’s face turned red, realizing he had been caught sleeping on the floor by two members of the household.

“Morning,” he managed.

“Alfred is going to be coming to make breakfast soon, if you wanted to move the sleepover to the den,” Dick whispered loudly.

Mortified, Tim could only nod and started to grab his pillow.

Dick smiled even more broadly and pointed at Jason. “Ace, kuss angriff.”

The dog leapt from Dick and landed on Jason, licking his face until the younger boy was awake and shouting in protest.

“Gross! Dick, I swear to-ugh! Get off me!”

Ace caught Jason on the mouth and the boy shoved him back towards Dick in disgust.

Dick only laughed and jumped to his feet. “We’re moving this party to the den. Grab your pillow.”

Jason grumbled, but he gathered his blanket and couch pillow before following his brother from the room. Tim followed along after. He didn’t think he was going to sleep again, but the boys all stretched out on the couches and Tim followed suit. He thought that Dick might try to ask about why they were sleeping on the floor to begin with, but his new oldest brother didn’t say anything. Tim settled into the soft couch cushions. They were really comfortable couches, and in the quiet morning, Tim felt himself relax. He didn’t sleep, but he wasn’t fully awake either. He drifted peacefully until Alfred called them for breakfast.

Throughout breakfast, he waited for Jason or Dick to say something more, but neither did.

When Bruce came down to breakfast, he smoothed down Tim’s hair and wished him a quiet ‘good morning.’

Nobody brought up him sleeping on the floor. They didn’t question it or criticize him. Jason passed a bowl of strawberries to him and, as Tim sat eating, he realized that this is what it felt like to have a family to take care of you.

And with a bit of guilt, he realized he wanted to keep this.

For forever, if he could.

Chapter Text

“Get in the cart, Tim,” Dick said as he pushed it towards him. Tim wrinkled his nose.

“What?” He asked, genuinely confused.

It was two days after the sleeping on the floor incident and, while nobody said anything about it, he caught the way they whispered before he entered a room. And, now, Dick and Jason were very insistent they take him grocery shopping.

“Get in the cart. We’ll push you.” Jason motioned to the cart as well, distracted as he typed away on his phone. Tim had seen babies ride in the shopping carts and maybe even a few small children…

“If you don’t, I will,” Dick stated. “And you’ll have to push me down every aisle and I will try to knock things off all of the shelves.”

“No, I’m not pushing you again.” Jason swatted at his older brother's arm. “Get in, Tim.”

Still confused, he allowed Jason to boost him into the cart, which actually wasn’t too small for him after all.

“I fit,” Tim said, almost in awe. He had never ridden in a shopping cart, hadn’t even ever sat in the seat for babies, since nobody had taken him shopping when he was young. Throughout out most of his life, groceries had been brought to the house, until more recently anyway, when he had done the shopping on his own.

“Of course you fit, you’re teeny, tiny Tim.” Jason pulled at the cart. “You don’t even weigh anything.”

Tim bit his lip. The nurses at the hospital had said something about that. The social worker had mentioned it several times. It was damaging to his parents, even though Tim had been the one to fail in finding enough food.

He thoughts were interrupted when Dick steered him into a shelf, causing the whole cart to jolt.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Oh, they have the Halloween cereals out already.” A box of cereal with a ghost on it landed next to Tim.

“It’s August!” Jason complained, but he threw a box of Halloween cookies into the cart anyway.

They made their way through most of the aisles and Jason kept holding up different snacks, asking if Tim liked them. If Tim nodded or even looked like he thought about nodding, Jason would throw the item next to Tim. Soon, he was surrounded by brightly colored boxes. He was reading the ingredients on some dinosaur fruit snacks when Dick began pushing them to the checkout.

“Pineapples,” he whispered under his breath. Tim looked up at Dick and then to Jason. They had their eyes forward, heading for the checkout and not going anywhere near the produce section.

“Pineapples?” Tim asked. Dick looked down at him with a smile in place.

“It’s a code,” he whispered. “Means there’s someone taking pictures of us.”

“Oh,” Tim sunk slowly down among his processed snacks, realization dawning. People were always trying to post pictures of the Wayne family online and now that he was with them… what if his parents saw? What would they say if they saw him being pushed around in a basket like a toddler? They would be appalled.

“Whoa, hold still,” Dick’s hand landed on his shoulder. Tim had started to try and climb out without even thinking about it.

“What if they see me?” Tim whispered. Dick’s grip managed to be firm and gentle at the same time.

“B will take care of it. He always does,” Jason assured him. “Stay there.” The boy hid Tim’s face with a package of Oreos.

Tim went still and tried not to feel awkward as he was wheeled through the checkout. The cashier didn’t say anything though, in fact, maybe she had seen Dick and Jason do stuff like this before? She certainly didn’t seem surprised.

They were soon out in the parking lot and Dick pushed the cart for a few minutes before Jason spoke up.

“Coast clear,” he reported as he stepped up on the undercarriage and held on tight.

“Excellent.” Dick quickened his pace and was soon pushing the cart as fast as he could with both of his brothers hanging on to it. He quickly raced through the parking lot. Jason laughed as they rushed past parked cars and Tim found out it was contagious. He laughed when they took tight turns and when Dick made revving noises as they hit a speed bump that sent the cereal boxes tumbling out of the cart.

They stopped abruptly at the car and Tim found he couldn’t stop giggling. He hadn’t laughed like that in a long time.

Jason ruffled his hair before he jumped back down on the ground and Dick helped him out of the cart.

As they were driving back home, Tim listened to Jason and Dick arguing over music and he realized having brothers might be the best thing in the world.

That empty space in his chest filled up a little more.

When they started to bring the groceries in, Tim began to head to the kitchen with a bag, but Jason stopped him.

“These aren’t for the kitchen.” Jason explained. “These are ours.”

Tim tilted his head in confusion, but Jason just rolled his eyes and nudged his arm.

“Follow me.”

Tim did as he was told, carrying his bag upstairs to Jason’s room. Once inside, his brother walked straight to the closet door and opened it. He soon dragged out a large plastic crate that was full of different kinds of snacks.

“I try to keep non-perishables only, but sometimes I have apples or those little oranges. It’s fine, you just have to eat them first.”  Jason emptied out his bag of groceries on the floor before he grabbed a second container from the closet. The second container was empty except for a few granola bars. “This can be yours. Take whatever you want. You like fruit snacks, right?” Jason tossed a box in. “And you were always grabbing the granola bars before.” Jason tossed another box into the container.

“What?” Tim finally found his words again.

Jason tilted his head at Tim. “You’re worried about the food, right?”

Tim felt his cheeks burn. He knew Jason had caught him sleeping outside the pantry, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want that to mean anything.

“This is what I do. It helps.” Jason threw a box of graham crackers into Tim’s container.

“It helps?” Tim managed to ask as he knelt on the floor beside his brother. Jason considered the question for a moment.

“Usually.” Jason pushed the container towards Tim. “You can put whatever you want. Nobody is going to stop you and it’s not something you need to hide.”

Tim had thought he was doing a good job lying and hiding, but the longer he stayed with the Waynes, the more it seemed like he hadn’t managed to hide anything.

But maybe it was okay.

The two boys sat on the floor and sorted snacks, Jason giving him tips on how to stack boxes to fit the most. Jason kept smiling at him, but there was a tenseness in the boy’s shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Tim finally asked, because he couldn’t figure out what might be upsetting his friend. Jason exhaled noisily.

“I’m fine. Most people just don’t understand the food thing.” Jason chewed the inside of his cheek. “And I actually wish you didn’t. Because it sucks.”

Tim frowned, he wasn’t sure what that meant. He didn’t even know if he understood the ‘food thing.’ But the idea of having his own storage in his room did help him feel a sense of relief.

“I got sick from a sandwich I found in the trash,” Tim blurted when he could think of nothing else to say. Jason stared and Tim went on. “That’s why I was so sick that day.”

Jason hummed. No need to explain which day Tim was referring to, Jason would never forget it. A throat being cleared interrupted them and they both looked up to see Dick carrying two more bags of groceries.

“Figured you would want these too,” Dick dropped the bags beside them before pulling out his own box of cereal. He wasted no time in opening the container and digging out a handful.

“Don’t make a mess,” Jason flicked his brother’s leg. Dick purposefully dropped some crumbs on the floor and Jason swatted at his leg again. “I’m telling Alfred,” Jason threatened.

Dick laughed and attempted to sweep the crumbs under the bed with his foot, which made Jason throw a box of cookies at his legs.

Tim found himself smiling at them.

Maybe it’s okay.

As Dick dropped bits of cereal on Jason’s floor, Tim carefully pulled out his phone and looked at the number that he had saved from a pizza box so long ago now. He had saved it under the letter ‘N’ and nothing else. In Tim’s mind, Dick had been more Nightwing than Dick Grayson in that moment. He had saved him.

Does he know?

Tim’s finger pressed the call button before he could stop himself.

A second later, a loud ring sounded through the room and Dick nearly dropped his cereal reaching for his back pocket. He pulled out a flip phone that definitely wasn’t Dick’s regular phone. He made it two jolting steps towards the door before he glanced back and saw the phone in Tim’s hand.

Tim saw the realization on Dick’s face, followed by something sad and horrible.

“Aw, kiddo,” Dick sunk down to the floor beside him. “You know, after the second pizza, I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to say anything if I wasn’t right.” Dick slipped the flip phone back in his pocket. “I am so sorry, bud.”

Tim forced a smile and a shrug. “It was a secret.”

Dick swore softly under his breath before reaching out and wrapping his arms around Tim. He pulled him tightly to his chest and breathed deeply. The hug was different from Bruce’s, more squeezing, but still warm.

“I am so sorry,” Dick breathed out.

“It’s okay.” Tim patted Dick’s back. “You helped me. You helped me so much.”

“What the hell is going on?” Jason interrupted.

“Sorry, little wing.” Dick pulled away from Tim and offered a smile to his other brother. “I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure it was him and I thought it would be upsetting.”

Jason glared. “I’m getting pissed off now, what the hell happened?”

“I stole pizza. Your pizza. From you.” Tim stared down at the floor. He had wanted to be honest and Jason would understand, but it didn’t mean Tim wasn’t embarrassed.

“Hey,” Dick squeezed his shoulders, “how about I tell him my perspective and you can talk if you want, okay?”

Tim nodded and leaned into his older brother’s side. He didn’t end up doing anything more than nodding through Dick’s story. Dick had not suspected Tim until after the second pizza was picked up. But he had dismissed the idea at first. Then Tim had shown up at their house, clearly ill and the doctor’s report said he was underweight, and the idea came to Dick again, but he didn’t want to confront Tim, if he was wrong.

“And I didn’t tell you, Jason, because I thought you wouldn’t like the idea of someone going through our trash.”

Jason scowled through most of the explanation, but he looked at Tim and did his best to push his anger away.

“Tell me next time. We probably could have had it all figured out sooner, if you had said something.” Jason went back to dropping packaged muffins into his container.

“I know. I’m sorry, little wing.”

“I’m sorry too,” Tim added. Jason tossed a package of red vines at him.

“Don’t you dare be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tim quickly nodded and returned to filling his own container with snacks.

They didn’t say anything about it for the rest of the night.

Jason seemed pleased when Tim had finished packing his snacks and he helped him carry the box to his room to find a safe place in the closet for it.

Afterwards, he put his arm around Tim as they walked out.

“Movie night?”

Tim nodded eagerly.

We’re okay.

Three days before Jason’s birthday, Tim realized he didn’t have a gift for him. His life changing so drastically had, apparently, muddled his brain. He had not been at the manor that long, but sometimes it felt like he had always been there and other times he felt like he was lost and moving through a fog and everything was new and strange. As he came out of the fog one Thursday morning, he realized he had nothing for Jason and he was sure that Jason was going to give him a gift. He had insisted they celebrate together after all.

He went looking online for a present that could get there in the next few days, but nothing felt right. Frustrated, Tim was driven to do something that still made his stomach twist: Ask an adult for help.

He approached Bruce’s study on his tiptoes, feeling the need to be silent even though his intention was to speak with his foster parent. The door was slightly ajar and he caught two voices before he could stop himself.

“I’m not going to treat him differently, Bruce.”

Dick sounded irritated. Tim stood frozen, were they talking about-

“I’m not saying to treat him differently. I’m just saying to please be careful with him.”

“He was not going to get hurt.”

“I know, but the state may not see it that way.”

“Look at the picture, Bruce. He’s happy. I’m glad someone posted it. I’m going to get a copy, blow it up and frame it.”

There was a long pause, where Tim thought he could hear Bruce taking several deep breaths.

“You are a good brother,” Bruce spoke in a measured tone. “And I’m so glad you’re here to help Tim settle in. But please understand,  chum, it is not a criticism. He is still a foster placement and I do not want his social worker to have any doubt that he is safe and cared for here.”

“You’re paranoid. They’re not going to take Tim and put him in some other placement because he was in a shopping cart. Just get the pictures taken down.” The fight had at least gone out of Dick, he sounded more resigned than anything now.

“Maybe it’s paranoia. Fine. But I can’t even have the smallest risk of losing Tim. I owe him more.”

Tim felt warmth bloom in his chest, even as Dick responded with a loud sigh.

“Owe him? He’s not a business partner, Bruce.”

“I know that.” Bruce’s words sounded final, but Dick carried on quietly.

“You don’t need to feel guilty about what happened. He’s here now. That’s what matters.”

Tim had heard quite enough and he wanted to walk away but his heels were stuck on the floor and he knew if he left now, he would be too loud as he walked away again into the fog. Also, he needed to do this. For Jason, if nothing else.

Before he could stop himself. Tim reached up and knocked on the door.

The room went absurdly quiet and then he thought he heard Dick swear under his breath.

Tim put on a neutral face as the door opened. Dick beamed down at him as he stepped aside, allowing Tim access to the room. Bruce was smiling gently at him from his desk.

“Can I speak with you?” Tim asked, all manners and business and everything his parents had trained him to be. Bruce’s mouth twitched, but the smile remained.

“Of course, have a seat,” the man motioned to the plush chair opposite the desk. Dick ruffled Tim’s hair on his way out, but he didn’t say anything else.

Tim sat and didn’t wait long before jumping into his request. He couldn’t lose his nerve now.

“I need help with Jason’s birthday.”

Bruce's eyebrows raised. “What do you need?” He asked, leaning forward.

“A present. I don’t know what to get him and it’s in two days. Oh, and Alfred said I didn’t need to get him anything, but I think I should. I can’t find anything online that seems right.”

Bruce hummed, studying him for a moment. Tim fidgeted under his gaze.

“You have gone through a lot in the past few weeks. Neither of them are expecting a gift. It’s okay.”

“But I want to!” Tim spoke too loud. “I want to get them something.” It was important. Tim needed to get them birthday gifts. Bruce had to know, it was important to give people gifts on their birthdays. To be there and to put thought in it, to show you didn’t forget.

Something in Tim’s voice must have struck a chord with Bruce because the man was standing from his desk and beginning to move. “I know a few places we can go. Get your shoes.”

Tim could only blink at Bruce’s willingness. He had thought Bruce would give him some suggestions, he hadn’t realized he was recruiting the man for a shopping trip.

“You don’t need to take me,” Tim muttered. Bruce's warm hand landed on his shoulder and that gentle smile was back.

“I want to.”

Tim felt some pain settle in his heart along with the warmth and he blinked before his eyes could start to sting. It didn’t seem like Bruce was doing it because he felt bad or like he owed Tim. He sounded like he honestly wanted to help. Tim exhaled noisily.

As long as he got to spend time with them all, that was what mattered.

Tim stood from his chair.

“I’ll get my shoes.” And he was off.

They first stopped by some specialty tea shop and Bruce directed him to Alfred’s favorite brand of tea. Tim used his allowance and he bit his tongue when he wanted to tell Bruce he would pay him back. Bruce had told him again and again that his allowance was his to spend as he liked.

They next went to an old, used bookstore that had books stacked to the ceiling. The shop owner seemed to know Bruce, as he simply nodded at the man and went back to reading his own book at the register.

Tim was faced with shelves upon shelves of books and he realized he didn’t know what Jason would like. He started to twist his fingers together when a worn book was slipped into his hands.

“Jason makes me lists of books he wants to read. He told me his mother used to read this one to him and he’s been wanting a copy.”

Tim studied the dark blue cover and silver script on the front. The Silver Skates.

“I’m sure he would like anything you pick out, but nothing too expensive. He doesn’t like it when I spend a lot on the books.”

Tim nodded and began searching the shelves, clutching the book to his chest with care. In the end, he purchased 4 books for Jason. Bruce said they were all good choices.

When they left the shop, Tim continued to press the books to his chest. The weight somehow was settling against his ribcage. It didn’t feel empty at all anymore.

“Thank you,” Tim muttered as they approached the car. “Thank you for taking me.”

Bruce smiled. “Of course. I was happy to help you.”

Tim wasn’t sure if he would ever really get used to that.

Saturday came with two cakes and three piles of presents. Even though Alfred reminded them that he did not need physical gifts. When he opened the tea from Tim he smiled and cupped the boy’s face with a warm hand for a brief moment.

“Thank you, dear boy.”

Tim had smiled. In fact, he smiled so much that his face hurt at the end of the day. There were so many presents all around. Jason opened his books, truly lighting up at every single one. He thanked Tim and hugged him so hard that he thought his lungs would pop. Tim opened his own gifts to find books on photography from Jason and a skateboard from Dick. He had only mentioned his skateboard breaking months ago in passing, but Dick had remembered. Bruce had bought him a new laptop, saying he noticed Tim’s was an older model.

Tim would never get used to that. Being noticed.

They had spaghetti for dinner with plenty of breadsticks and Tim ate two slices of cake before they all settled into the family room to continue their ongoing movie marathon.

Tim drifted off to sleep, surrounded by warmth and watching Godzilla destroy a city again.

It was a perfect day.

Tim startled awake, jolting upright from the couch.

“You’re okay.” Jason’s voice floated over to him. Tim slowly remembered where he was and the memories of the dream started to fade.

He looked over at Jason who was stretched out on the other couch, tapping away on his phone.

“You’re okay, baby bird.” Jason repeated. Tim took a deep breath and sunk back into the plush cushions.

Tim felt sleep pulling at him again, but his mind was turning.

“I’m not a bird,” Tim said before he could stop himself. “You're the Robin.”

The room went completely still while Jason pulled in a breath and let it go.

“I knew it. Dick and Bruce owe me twenty bucks,” he finally said. Jason started typing quickly on his phone.

“Is it okay, if I know?” Tim whispered.

Jason snorted. “Tiny Tim, if there is anything I learned about you, it’s that you are very loyal about secrets. We're okay.”

“Okay,” Tim echoed.

“Yes, everything is okay. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk about it more later.”

Tim curled back up under the blanket someone had put over him. As he started to drift off again, he heard Jason laugh quietly. “Pay up, old man,” he mumbled under his breath, before sending off another text.

Tim fell asleep, smiling.

Tim’s adoption went through in March. Dick said getting him as an official little brother was the best birthday present he could have asked for.

They went out to celebrate.

And the space inside Tim, never felt empty again after that.

The heat was almost unbearable, but Tim found himself outside, stretched on the grass anyway. He shut his eyes, felt the sun beat down on his face and listened to the breeze.

A dog barked. And barked and barked. And then licked his face. Tim wrinkled his nose and shoved Ace away.

“It’s 100 degrees, why are you out here?”

Tim opened his eyes to find Jason peering down at him.

“Thinking,” Tim replied.

“Think in the shade, you dork.” His brother nudged him with his foot. “It’s too hot.”

“Can we go swimming?” Tim asked, sitting up now.

“If you want.”

“Can we have a water gun fight?” Tim jumped to his feet.

Jason sighed. “It’s your birthday, Tiny Tim we can do whatever you want.”

“You owe me a chess rematch, too. And Dick said he would teach me poker once I was thirteen. Can we do that?”

Jason laughed.

“Whatever game you want. All of them if you want.”

Tim smiled. “Race you to the house?”

Jason nodded and got into position as he started to count down from three.

 “Ace, kuss angriff!” Tim shouted before darting off. The dog barked and leapt. Tim heard Jason’s shouts of protests from behind him as Tim raced to the house.

Tim was still pretty good at games.

 He burst through the door of the kitchen and ran directly into Bruce. The man didn’t miss a beat before hugging the boy, lifting him off his feet.

Tim grinned up as his father set him down on the kitchen tile. Jason was shouting about cheating from outside. Which made them both laugh.

Bruce ruffled his hair.

“Did you win, Tim?” he asked.

Tim grinned ear to ear. His chest was warm and his heart was fuller than it had ever been.

“Yeah,” Tim smiled. “I did.”