Chapter Text
12 years ago
“Timothy, dear.”
Tim looked up from his new dinosaur toys as mother walked into the room. She was wearing her fancy dress. She must be leaving soon, her and father had been talking about the gala since this morning. Tim secretly wanted to join them, but he was too young, only four.
Tim stretched his arms upwards towards her and whined. Maybe he could convince her to stay, he had new dinos they could play with! She didn’t have to leave right? She never stayed home for very long and he wanted to be with her. Mothers were supposed to stay, he heard Mrs. Mac mutter it once.
Mother didn’t bend down for him like the mothers on TV. Instead her long red fingernails tapped impatiently against her slim dress. She pursed her lips at him until he put his arms back down. He knew she didn't like it when he wanted her to stay, but once would be nice.
“Timothy, you are old enough to join us. Tonight will be your first gala.”
His mouth fell open at her words as a smile crept upon his face. Join them?
Yes!
He always wanted to go places with them, but wasn’t big enough yet. He could feel excitement grow inside his chest as he hopped in place in joy.
Mother gasped in horror as he changed forms.
“Timothy! You change back into a boy this instant!”
But he liked being a dinosaur! He was a little one too, small enough to be under Mother’s knees.
“Now!” She demanded angrily.
Fine. It's not like he picked the t-rex.
He could’ve you know.
Deflated, Tim changed back to a boy. He just wanted to show her how happy he was to be invited. Why couldn't she understand his joy? It was fun to change into animals and a dinosaur was one of his favorites. He just wanted to share that with her.
“Well. I think you’ve proven that you can’t come. Little boys must stay little boys.” Mother announced angrily, dashing his excitement into shards. He didn’t mean to be bad.
He tugged on her sparkly dress and blubbered into the fabric. Maybe he could convince her he could be a good. He would promise not to change at the party! Give him another chance!
“B..but Mommy! I can be good!”
Long, sharp nails peeled him off her dress and mother glared at him from above as she shoved him away. Tim wobbled back and forth to regain balance and grabbed her fingers with his hands.
“Then you should have stayed a boy. Your father and I are not raising a wild animal. You will stay at home until you can control yourself.” She angrily spat out as her claws pushed away his fingers, making him fall on his tushie on the floor.
Tim hung his head, ashamed and tried not to cry. He wasn't very successful, a tear fell down his face.
“Yes, Mama.” He blubbered sadly, wiping his snot onto his sleeve.
“Mother. Not Mama, not Mommy, Mother.” She corrected as she turned and left him with his toys. She shut the door behind her and left with Father in tow.
“Yes Mother.” Tim whispered to the empty air.
He would do better. Someday he would be able to control himself and be good for Mother. Maybe then, she will love him.
7 years ago
Tim scrambled up the rusty fire escape as he followed Batman on his patrol. The grime of the metal stuck to his fingers as he tried to spot the caped crusaders.
He had been following the duo for about a year now. Last month, he figured out their identities. Dick Grayson’s quadruple flip was impossible for anyone who wasn’t in the Grayson’s act to copy and he spotted Robin doing it with ease. Figuring out Batman’s identity was simple after knowing Robin’s. Bruce Wayne had a ton of free time and money on his hands.
Tim’s parents were out of town again and he had to find something to do or he’d die of boredom. So, he mapped out how he’d follow the elusive duo each night. It turned out easier than he thought. Their patterns became recognizable after a while. They used a polynomial progression pattern that differentiated every other day.
He had a large bulletin board in his closet, mapping out which patrol they were going to pick for the night. It had more strings and numbers on it than he cared to admit and it was rather difficult to keep hidden from Mrs. Mac on the rare occasion she had to inspect his room.
Following the duo was much easier once he realized could just grab his camera and his super stealth, ninja outfit and turn into a bat until he found them. It wasn't really a ninja outfit, but it was a black hoodie and jeans.
Eh, close enough.
Flying was hard at first, echolocation was hard. He did run into a few buildings, but no one saw him, so it didn’t matter. He was nine. He could watch out for himself.
Tim crouched lower down on the building as he witnessed Batman and Robin stop for a quick snack. Lucky, he should have thought of that.
At least he could get some rad photos from his awesome viewpoint. They landed on his roof! What were the chances? Oh man, this was so cool!
Tim’s camera shook in excitement as he leveled it to get a good angle. If he pulled this one off, it would definitely go in the very-special binder of the coolest shots ever.
“Holy smokes! Agent A packed cookies?!” Robin exclaimed happily as Batman pulled a bag out of his utility belt.
“Hmn.” Batman said in lieu of reply as he reached for one too.
“Well, I think that’s great! He hasn’t packed those in a while!” Robin continued on with a mouth stuffed full of cookies.
Batman let him speak with his mouth full? Maybe it was because no one was nearby? Of course, Tim was here, but he didn’t really count.
“It’s too bad the meta population has gained a spurt recently in Gotham.” Batman murmured in thought as he delicately chose another cookie from the bag.
“Yeah.” Robin said as he swung his legs and leaned back. “But we can get 'em out. They don’t scare us!”
What was a meta?
His inner question peaked his interest enough that he almost didn’t catch Robin’s new pose with his camera. He strained his ears to make sure he heard every word. He loved following their cases whenever he could, his newspaper wall and chemistry setup were proof enough. Mrs. Mac thought he did it for school, but his class wasn't in chemistry yet.
“We will. But it’ll take time and vigilance, Robin.”
“You got that right! Comon’! Race ya to the next rooftop!” Robin jumped up, grabbed his grapple gun, and shot off into the distance with Batman not far behind.
Wow.
Tim snapped a few photos of them soaring through the air before attempting to move. Rule number one, don’t move unless you’re sure they can’t see you. There had been a couple of close calls where he had to shift into an alley cat or a bat to avoid being caught. Even then, he had to cross his toes that Robin wasn't looking for a stray cat.
Tim waited until they were gone before scurrying down the fire escape.
Metas…. Tim would have to research them. They sounded fascinating, and dangerous.
6 ½ years ago
Welp. Tim had done his research. His intensive, time-consuming research on metas.
It didn’t look so great for him.
‘Metas’ were any super-powered or enhanced individuals who were at some point human or simply aliens with powers like Superman. Any superpowers fell under the category of metas and that included animal transformation powers.
He had animal transformation powers. Some people would call him a shifter.
Which wasn’t so bad except for one itsy-bitsy little problem.
Batman hates metas.
So much.
Tim had countless photos of proof. Batman captures and imprisons metas and sends them so far away that no-one hears from them again. He even chases Superman away from Gotham.
Superman!
Everyone likes Superman, except for Tim’s history teacher who can’t handle the fact that he’s an alien and now Tim knows Batman hates him too.
Tim fell on his bed in despair and groaned into his pillow.
Now he has proof, solid proof that Batman would hate him. Superman at least is lovable. Tim isn’t even likable enough for his parents to stay home.
Maybe… maybe that’s why they are always out of the country. They know Tim is a freaky freak who can’t always control himself. Like when he was a kid and freaked his parents out with his version of hide-and-seek. Mother hated all his forms.
A sense of determination creeped over Tim as he sat up on his bed covers and wiped off his tears with his palms.
Maybe he could hide his powers. Mother and Father already know, but that doesn’t mean that Gotham needs to know. That must be part of the reason they never take him to galas.
If he never shifts, then he couldn't be proven a meta! It was genius!
It might make following Batman and Robin a little harder, but it was worth it.
3 years ago
Timothy Jackson Drake tried to be brave as he was driven to the Batcave. He had disobeyed Batman and put on the Robin suit without permission. He was supposed to be benched tonight.
But he couldn’t let Bruce get hurt! That was the whole reason he became Robin!
The Batmobile skidded to a stop and Bruce paused before getting out of the car. Tim shrunk in his seat, horrified at what the older man might say. Bruce had been uncharacteristically mute ever since they left the crime scene.
“Tim.” Bruce started, pulling off the cowl and frowning down at him.
“Yes?” Tim squeaked back, shrinking further back into his shoulders.
Bruce’s fingers rapped on the wheel as he watched Tim with an unnerving gaze. The motion was reminding Tim of Mother when she was mad and it was making him nervous.
“Do you know why I told you to stay at the cave tonight?”
“Not really.” Tim squeaked as he fiddled with the green gloves. His voice wasn’t doing him any favors going high like that. Why couldn’t it just deepen already? He was fourteen after all.
“Those gang members were metas Tim. I didn’t want you near such dangerous people.”
Oh, right.
He recalled Bruce saying something about more metas springing up recently. But he didn’t really correlate the statistic to his ability to go out as Robin. His own meta genes aside, it didn’t seem to matter when he went up against the Riddler every other Tuesday.
“But. I don’t understand. We fight supervillains every night.” Tim bravely pointed out. Surely Bruce would see the precaution as unnecessary. Tim could handle a few metas.
Bruce’s jaw tightened in agitation and Tim froze in place, not daring to move when he realized his mistake. Bruce hated metas and didn’t want them near his sidekick.
Well, jokes on him. Tim was a meta.
Not that he was stupid enough to tell Batman.
“I’m serious Robin. Metas are too unpredictable and dangerous. You will not go on missions that include them for now.”
Unpredictable. Dangerous. We don’t include metas.
Tim hung his head in shame. He could follow orders, even if they sucked.
“Yes sir.”
“Hn, go home. We’re done for the night.”
Tim climbed out of the car with little enthusiasm. He hated going to his empty house. Jack and Janet stopped coming home for more than a week or two at a time ever since they discovered his condition was irreversible. Now his home was nothing more than a mausoleum.
Tim retired the suit to his locker and shrugged his civies on. Someday, if he was lucky enough Bruce might ask him to stay for the night. It would be nice to sleep with people nearby.
As it was, Tim wandered out the tunnel leading to his backyard and huddled in his jacket. The cool winter night bit at his nose and fingers as he climbed the hill behind his house.
The full moon shone over the grass as he spotted a wild wolf and her cub. Tim froze at the crystal clear image of the pair, their yellow eyes were locked on his form.
What Tim would give to have a family that stayed. He forced the rush of jealousy down into his gut. It wouldn’t do to be jealous of a wolf cub, even if they had parents.
The elder wolf snuffed the air and wandered away with her cub and Tim felt loneliness once more as he crept to his house.
Perhaps he could have shifted to a wolf form and played with the animals for a while.
But no.
He was a boy. An average, human boy.
Not an animal.
Tim ran up to his room and slammed the door, just to hear something, anything, in the quiet of his house. Chest heaving, he changed into his pajamas and crawled into his closet, hiding under an old blanket that smelled mildly of Mother’s perfume.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to shift or go mad.
He settled into a wolf cub, identical to the one outside and rubbed his nose into the soft blanket. He hadn’t shifted in months and the exertion had weighed on his heart. He loved his forms, each one of them and it was torture to hold it in all the time.
But if Bruce caught him then he’d be sent away forever and his parents wouldn’t even notice. He’d be jailed with a collar or something and never be able to shift again. Or he’d be tortured by scientists who were mean, bad people. Like the doctors Janet brought him to.
Tim laid still in the night and howled. He wailed until his lungs couldn’t take it anymore and the other wolves joined in on the music.
It helped, in a way. To shift every now and then in the solace of his room.
His own little secret.