Chapter Text
Alan likes to think he is an observant person. First of all, he lives in Gotham; being constantly aware of the details around him is necessary for survival. Second, and more importantly, he is the assistant to one of the most powerful people in Gotham – Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO and Majority Shareholder of Wayne Enterprise. That wouldn’t have happened if he was inattentive or heedless.
He’s been working with Tim (one of Alan’s first observations of his boss is that he prefers being called Tim than ‘Mr. Drake-Wayne’) for almost seven months now and has made a number of conclusions about his life just by watching him through the glass panes of his office and the brief interactions they have daily (another observation: Tim prefers to email Alan if he can, most likely to keep an electronic record. Because of this, Alan doesn’t speak to Tim except to greet him in the morning and remind him of his schedule throughout the day).
The most important thing of note, in Alan’s opinion, is Tim’s passion for his work. Alan attributes this fact to Tim’s rapid splenectomy recovery from his public assasination attempt six months ago. The old medical books at the library tell Alan that Tim should only now be attempting to walk with one crutch, but for the last month and a half, he has been fluttering about the building with a one knee supporting crutch. It’s easier for Tim to go back and forth between the R&D department (his favorite), Lucius Fox’s office, the PR department, and his own office with just one brace, therefore letting him complete more work in a single day.
The second is that, despite being one of the richest men in the country, Tim is still a teenager. An adult teenager, but a teenager nonetheless. And is conditionally terrible at managing his sleeping habits. Alan doesn’t hold it against him. After all, if Alan had to do with Tim does now, even at his ripe old age of 39 he would collapse under the weight of it all. But Tim puts in more effort than Alan would have expected of an 18 year old boy to not look dishevled or sleep deprived when he enters the office by using some color correcting makeup and concealer.
Like he said earlier, Alan was observant.
Still, there are a number of days where Tim will be too exhausted to do this routine. It can happen on days after large criminal events in the city. Alan wants to chalk it up to being afraid of some of Gotham’s Rogues, but Tim is a true Gothamite, meaning he would definitely sleep through an Arkham Breakout. Mostly, though, these days are completely random. They just barely coincide with days that he has an influx of meetings, but Alan has seen Tim face the PR disaster week after his brother’s return from the dead with flawless makeup on, even before getting touched up by camera crews and what not. This “no makeup” schedule is a mystery of Tim’s that leaves Alan stumped.
It just so happens that today was one such day. His boss walks by his desk in the morning with eyebags so unsettlingly deep they look like bruises. Alan is still getting used to that sight. But as tired as he must be, Tim still dresses smart. He has his Air Forces on and is carrying his Wonder Girl hoodie under one arm, because he’s 18, and is wearing a pair of grey slacks and a lighter grey buttonup, because he’s the CEO and Majority shareholder of the most powerful company in Gotham, and he’s got a donut in the other hand, because it’s 9am.
Like he said earlier, Alan was observant. Quick to come to the right conclusions.
He also observes, for the first time, an angry and raised pink scar across Tim’s throat. It’s a protruding scar on his neck, meaning it must have been deep for an area with such thin skin to relayer itself so tightly. How the hell did Tim manage to conceal something like that? How the hell did Tim even get a scar like that?
Alan gives Tim his usual hello, and Tim must be more than exhausted for him to not inquire or even react to Alan’s shaky tone. He secludes himself to his office and with that queue, Alan tries to organize his thoughts.
It’s an old scar, clearly, but how old? If this is the first time Alan is seeing it, then no photograph of Tim Drake-Wayne will showcase it and there’s no way for him to date the scar. But Alan is from Gotham, he has enough scars from wayward robberies and Rogue attacks that he can roughly piece together a timeline.
The color of it and it’s extreme protrusion mean it’s old, but not old enough that he got it when he was a grade schooler. Alan thinks back to how long the scar down his own forearm took to have a smaller ridge and lighter color. Years, but not decades. Not even half a decade, if Alan’s memory serves. Three or four years ago, he concludes.
Alan finds himself opening Tim’s Wikipedia page, unable to listen to his usually rational brain to not snoop about his boss’s Early Childhood , Teenage Years , and Present Life . He can’t say for certain why he can’t stop this. It’s not like he was ever an incredibly curious child or one that liked to play detective, and it’s not like he’s worried for Tim’s safety considering the age of the scar. And yet, here Alan is, reading about Tim’s first ransom attempt at age nine and the price of which he was negotiated for (the article doesn’t specify the price, but the thought of Tim’s parents agreeing on a market value price for Tim leaves a bitter taste in his mouth). It’s pretty cut and dry for a Bristol ransom case, and from then on out, according to Wikipedia, Tim was a somewhat frequent guest of the hospital, all for injuries that can be chalked up to falling off his skateboard.
The article only gives one sentence to the death of his mother, Janet, and the induced coma his father, Jack, fell into. Alan can’t tell if that information would offend Tim or cheer him up. Tim has a complicated relationship with all four of his parental figures.
Moving into the Teenage Years section of his wiki page, Alan learns that Tim has been transferred in and out of at least four different middle and high schools – none of which he graduated from, having dropped out of high school when he was 17. Of course, it was just Tim’s luck that the one school shooting Gotham has ever had, happened at Tim’s school that he would transfer out of only two months later.
He reads past that and starts reading about a violent home invasion attack when Tim was 15. There’s not much to read about, considering Tim was a minor, making the police report classified. What wikipedia can tell him is that the attack happened while Tim was living with his father and stepmother in Gotham Proper. Jack and Dana were away for the weekend when an unnamed assailant broke into their home. Tim received injuries so intense that he was hospitalized for a week and a half.
To be in the hospital for so long meant that Tim must have been close to death by the time the intruder left. Did the attacker mean to kill him and ran out of time? Or was he looking to steal something of value, not realizing Tim was home and was forced to use brute force? And why wasn’t the name of the criminal not publicized, if they were clearly the ones responsible for the breaking and entering and the excessive battery harm? Does that mean the assailant was never caught, even if Tim had seen their face?
Alan has too many questions, but can at least conclude that this criminal was responsible for the scar across Tim’s neck, and probably others. He’s noticed a number of thin, small, white scars on Tim’s fingers and hands which seem too delicate to come from any skateboarding accident. And when Tim steeples his hands, the pads of his ring and middle fingers don’t perfectly align because of unnatural bending in the rest of the finger.
A surgery done on his hands, then. Alan wonders what other pains Tim could be hiding from this attack.
The next day, Alan is prepared. Last night, he went out to find a concealer recommended by many Gothamites for scar coverage in Tim’s uniquely pale shade.
“Good morning, Tim.” Alan says as his boss walks in. Today is a Meeting Day, and so he’s done his usual make-up. Only a natural amount of eyebags are visible, and Alan can really only see the scar on his neck if he looks for it.
Tim is wearing his typical slacks and button up, paired with an inconspicuous maroon tie. He’s got on his red and white Impulse-themed converse, too, with another donut in hand. Tim’s superhero adoration continues even during Meeting Day.
“Morning, Alan,” He replies, still chewing on his donut. “Who are we talking with first today?”
“Dominic in PR. He wants to discuss marketing your image as a young, relatable, but still ‘unreachably talented’ CEO in a magazine spread. He said you were awarded a pretty big title, but wanted to talk to you about the details himself.” At Tim’s cringe, Alan moves on to his later schedule. “But after that, you’ll be meeting with Amy in R&D. She said had a lot she wanted to show you, so you’ll spend most of your day there, then meet up with Mr. Fox for your weekly debrief.”
Tim nods once, efficient as ever, and makes his way into his office. “Alright. I’ll be out in five minutes, then we can get started.”
Alan gets to his feet abruptly, not wanting to lose his window of opportunity to talk to Tim. “One more thing, Tim. Yesterday, I noticed you were looking more tired than usual. I’m of course not telling you to always wear your makeup or anything,” Alan scrambles to clarify, “But I thought you’d like to know that I’ll be keeping some concealer in your shade at my desk should you ever need it.”
Slowly, Tim turns around to fully face Alan, neglecting his open office door that swings closed. “You know, most people would take that as an insult, Alan.”
Mortifyingly, Alan feels his face start to heat up. It’s still weird, getting scolded by your boss who’s half your age.
Tim sighs wistfully. “Unfortunately, I’m not like most people." He smiles and Alan feels the tension in his shoulders drop. "Thanks for looking out for me, Alan. Although, you should probably know that I’ve already planted my concealer and color corrector in nine different locations in the building and left a spot for yours in the sixth floor conference rooms.”
His jaw drops open slightly. How did he...?
“Of course, Mr. Drake-Wayne,” Alan eventually says, sitting back down with a nervous smile.
Alan is observant, but he is nothing compared to Tim Drake-Wayne.