Chapter Text
Recovery is a journey, not a destination. Recovery isn’t a one-size-fits-all ten step program, it’s highs and lows, good days and bad days, but as long as you keep putting in the hard work, you’ll be okay.
Tim learned this in therapy, but he sees what recovery looks like every day.
Some days, recovery is crying on Bruce’s shoulder after finding out that Jack and Janet never cared about Tim, but are preparing to fight as hard as they can to get Tim back and smear the Wayne reputation.
Some days, recovery is baking cookies with Jason and Alfred and having the rest of the family take a blind taste test to see who won. (Jason won!)
Some days, recovery is Jason helping him take his first breath after a panic attack, caused by Jack Drake showing up outside Wayne Manor waving around a pistol and shouting that he’s going to kill everyone inside if he doesn’t get his Timothy back.
Some days, recovery is going to the park to play catch with Midnight the hellhound, Em, Dick, and Constantine. (Dick was invited to be the chaperone because Bruce doesn’t quite trust Constantine not to “kidnap” Tim and Em and take them on a supernatural road trip.)
Some days, recovery is jumping up and down from excitement in the showroom, when Selina takes Em and Tim to see the official Catmobile she’s buying for the team. (Tim was the first one to drive it out of the car lot, instantly testing how fast the car can go from zero to 90mph – much to the surprise of the car dealer – and after cruising around the street of downtown Gotham, Tim and Em have been modifying the vehicle. Tim is the ideas guy and Em is the one that can actually do the mechanical modifications.)
Some days, recovery is violently throwing up in the principal’s office’s toilet after being called out of class to be told that Jack and Janet died in a mysterious plane crash and the Drake company and everything involving it now belongs to Tim. (After two more consecutive anxiety attacks after getting home to Wayne Manor, Bruce did some Bat-level research, and it turns out that two people that match Jack and Janet’s face recognition profile were spotted on a tropical island that Gotham lawyers wouldn’t be able to drag them back from)
Some days, recovery is jumping into Bruce’s arms, when the judge awards Bruce full guardianship of Tim with an approved request to foster. (The next step is adoption, which Bruce immediately filed)
On this particular night, recovery is casually walking away from the art museum that the Cat team just stole an expensive painting from, that the museum bought off the black market illegally in the first place. Stray, Em (he’s still working on a hero name), and Catwoman pulled off the heist so well that the alarm was never triggered. The museum security guards don’t even know it’s missing!
Em is walking backwards, so he can face Tim while talking.
“That was smooth as hell, Stray. I can’t believe you did the whole dangling from the air thing and never tripped the alarms.”
“Nightwing’s been teaching me acrobatic things. We have a daily stretch and gymnastics class at the Manor that’s been keeping him from going back to Bludhaven. He hasn’t really been back to his apartment since Robin got hurt. Nightwing has already taken down the major crime families in Bludhaven, so Batman’s hoping he comes back home full-time and just does his Nightwinging once a month to make sure the criminals don’t get too comfortable.”
Em nods, “That’s fucking awesome. Do you think Nightwing can teach me some gymnastics moves when I come over for dinner with Catmom this weekend?”
“Totally!” Tim says, vibrating with excitement. “With three people we could work on a trapeze act. This is going to be so cool!”
Catwoman is humming approval next to her boys. Everything is going great until they get to the corner of the block.
Tim is the first to notice that the Catmobile has no tires. The vehicle is sitting on cinderblocks, and four tires are neatly stacked right next to the car.
Em whips around to face the tireless car. “The fuck,” he growls.
Tim picks a pink sticky note post-it off the windshield.
Now we’re even – Batman
Before Tim and Em can even begin to unpack this, a loud honk from across the street is followed by the voice that sends fear into the heart of all Gotham criminals. But to be honest, Tim recognized the sound of the Batmobile’s engine idling before he heard Batman speak.
“Car trouble?” Batman asks.
Tim is glaring as hard as he can, as Bruce casually strolls over from across the street. The glare would be more effective if Em weren’t currently giving Batman a hug.
“Em,” Tim hisses.
Em shrugs, still hugging Batman, “Chill. I’m happy to see him. Not everyone lives with Batman. Besides, we stole his wheels first. It’s only fair. And it’s not like I can’t put all four of those bitches back on in less than five minutes.”
Batman chuckles, “Five minutes? Why so slow?”
Em pushes Batman away, ending the hug and Batman chuckles harder. Em unhooks the wrench he always keeps holstered on his waist like a gun. He spins the wrench in his hand, flips off Batman with his other hand, and starts working on the tires.
Tim crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, let’s go over your mistakes, Batman.”
Tim takes a second to uncross his arms so he can tap his earpiece, turning on his Bat-comm. He re-crosses his arms and can hear Nightwing and Robin laughing. Em must have turned it on too because Tim can hear Em’s laugh echoing in the comm.
“My mistakes,” Batman says slowly.
“Yes. Your mistakes. Mistake one, you can’t sign your actual name to the sticky note confession. That’s not how it works. Mistake two, you need to flee the scene of the crime. I know that you’re a hero, so you’re not used to running away, but it’s an important thing to remember. And speaking of not leaving, how long have you been sitting in your car just waiting for us to get here? If it’s been over ten minutes, that’s cringe.”
Tim’s brothers are cackling through the comms. Jason manages to bark out, “You tell him Stray. Drag his ass.”
Batman stares at Tim, both of them with matching crossed armed stances. Bat-glare vs. Cat-glare.
Tim breaks first, giving Batman an I’m sorry grin. Batman ruffles Tim’s hair and then gently pulls Tim’s cat ear hood back up.
Batman looks over Tim’s shoulder and smiles at Selina. “I’ll let you keep the stolen painting if you let me steal your two kittens for the rest of the night.”
“Hell yeah!” Em shouts, already having the four tires secured. “Can we go in the sewer and fight Killer Croc like last time?”
Selina sighs, “Batman. Are you seriously allowing me to steal a painting if you steal my children? You’re becoming quite the criminal, babe.”
Tim is already taking a few bat-a-rangs out of Batman’s utility belt from him and Em to use.
“Sweetheart, it’s not stealing if I give them back,” Batman says.
“If?” she frowns.
“I meant when I give them back.”
Nightwing lands behind Tim and grabs Tim’s hand. “Quick, little guy, call dibs on driving and we’ll stick Em and Dad in the backseat.
“Dibs,” Tim yells and he runs to the Batmobile with Nightwing and Em is hot on their heels.
Em happily hops in the back seat and gets an Escrima stick to play with as a reward.
Tim hooks his seatbelt. By the time Batman reaches the car, Tim starts to drive before he even fully gets inside, causing poor Bruce to scurry to close the door before slamming against Em.
“Taze him,” Nightwing laughs, using the passenger fold down mirror to adjust his hair. Dick shakes his hands through his hair, making it messier than it was before.
He turns to Tim and gives him the dazzling Dick Grayson smile, “Where to first, little Catman?”
Jason yells in the communicator, “Little Catman? That’s weak as shit, Dickhead. Do better.”
“Dad, tell Jay to stop. He’s being mean.”
Batman grumbles from the backseat. “No real names on comms, Wing.”
Tim is stuck at a red light, so he has time to look at the backseat as Dick and Jason go back to bickering in the comms.
Tim smiles as he watches Em show Batman how to spin the borrowed Escrima stick in his hand like he spins his wrench.
“It’s my signature move,” Em says proudly. Batman answers with an approving hum.
A female voice joins the comms. “I go off-grid for my first vacation in years and there are new team members? Please, B, tell me you didn’t adopt two more kids.”
“Barbie!” Jason shrieks. “Welcome back! You missed so much shit when you were gone.”
“Hey, Robin. I missed you too. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for your mom’s memorial service. If I had known I would’ve flown back earlier.”
“It’s all good. Hey, Stray and Stray two, this is Barbie, aka Oracle. She’s the smartest and coolest person in the world. B, I’m gonna ask Agent A if he can drive me to the Clocktower to hang out with Oracle. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” Batman says, as he spins Em’s wrench. Em is smiling and cheering him on.
“Hi Oracle,” Tim says, cutting off two cars and getting aggressively honked at. Seriously, who honks at the Batmobile? Tim’s fingers hover over the smoke bomb button.
“Hi, Stray,” Oracle says. Tim can hear the clattering of keyboard keys in the background. “I’m not going to ask why an eleven-year-old, according to the Bat-files, is driving the Batmobile, I’m just gonna go with it.” More keyboard clattering. “Alright gentlemen, it’s a slow night, but I may have a potential Clayface thing in an hour.”
Tim takes a sharp turn that lifts two wheels, causing Dick to swear and grip the dashboard.
The wheels touch down hard, right before Tim shifts into second gear and flies down the narrow, one-lane side street. The road tilts up what would be considered a hill, and Tim kicks the car into third gear so that when he hits the incline, the car lifts into the air, getting fully airborne before slamming back to the road. The street is narrow and lined with a few shops that are closed at this hour, which is good because the force the Batmobile makes when it touches back down to the road and the massive sound wave it produces causes a row of windows of a particularly older building to shatter. Like, straight up explode!
Tim ducks from the sound of exploding glass.
Everyone in the car goes silent and then,
“Holy shit!” Dick gasps, and then laughs, high pitched and loud.
Tim is trying to catch his breath after the adrenaline rush from that! The cool factor of what just happened is causing his eyes to tear up.
And speaking of crying, Batman huffs, “I’ve caused too much property damage this month as Batman. The money to repair those windows is coming out of your allowance, Stray.”
Jason’s howling, “T, I just saw that on the security cams! When you get back home, we’re watching that together on playback. That was some of the coolest shit I’ve ever seen. You gotta take me on a ride when I get healed enough for a Batmobile joyride.”
“Yeah, Robin,” Tim says, wiping the tears of joy from his eyes. “When you get better, we ride!”
He hits the brakes, causing the Batmobile to skid behind a red sports car in the drive-thru line.
He leans one hand on the car windowsill and rests his other hand low on the bottom of the steering wheel.
He angles himself so everyone in the car can see him, and his mouth spreads into a shit-eating grin.
“Who wants a Batburger?
Recovery looks different every single day. Today, it looks like a car full of Tim’s family, all making him feel like the luckiest and most loved boy in the world.
Recovery is a journey, and Tim is ready to take that journey driving his favorite car, filled with his favorite people.
Three weeks later, Tim is driving the Batmobile at three in the morning, with Jason sitting in the passenger seat. It’s raining, so Tim has been showing off his hydroplaning skills.
Tim skids the car into high-speed donuts, and Jason and Tim erupt into ear-piercing hooting, screaming their heads off.
Because that’s what brothers do.