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Tim writes his first will two days after his ninth birthday. His grandmother died March 16th of the same year and his parents had been in town for the funeral. The weather had been gloomy, and his suit black and scratchy. He hadn’t liked the experience all that much. He’d been there when the will was read, his father had inherited a lot of shares and a house in Singapore. His uncle had gotten a property in Maine and dad had been very cross about it.
The will itself had been pretty standard but it was what gave him the idea to write his own. He’d toyed with the thought for a few months but only began actively researching it at the start of July. His parents had never shied away from difficult topics and he’d always been aware of his own inevitable demise, just as he was aware of his parents’. But when he discovered Batman’s identity, suddenly death took on a different meaning. It was no longer something far away, something for the distant future, but rather a shadow that hid behind every corner in Gotham’s night. Tim encountered a lot of death following the heroes. But even that wasn’t the trigger for the first will.
No, it happened on a random Tuesday on Tim’s way back from school. He’d been crossing the street, totally focused on the book in his hand, trying to rush his reading so that he had more time to go out tonight. He hadn’t watched out for cars. That was a mistake. Suddenly, he heard honking and screaming and a car came way too close for comfort. A driver had evidently not noticed him until it was almost too late. His book still in hand, Tim stared at the registration plate in front of him, a mere seven inches from his face. The car was a dark Jeep, the driver an enraged looking woman. She was cursing him out. He’d almost died, just there and then. He felt like his feet were superglued to the pavement and it was possibly the hardest task he’d ever accomplished getting to the other side of the road.
He was unsteady the entire way home and nearly left the fork in his ready-made meal when he put it in the microwave. To become so acutely aware of his own mortality hadn’t been part of todays plan. And suddenly, Tim realized he had no plan for his own death. What would happen to his things when he died? What would happen to his pictures? He didn’t think his parents knew what he wanted to give them, what he wanted donated.
So, the will was born. He planned and thought about his options, his valuables and his sentimentals for weeks before he made his final decisions.
Timothy Jackson Drake
Drake Manor, 1008 Mnt. Drive
Bristol, New Jersey, 08711
21.7.XX
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF Timothy Jackson Drake
I,Timothy Jackson Drake, of Drake Manor, 1008 Mnt. Drive, Bristol, New Jersey, 08711, being of sound mind and legal capacity, do hereby make and declare this to be my last will and testament. I revoke any and all previous wills or codicils made by me.
ARTICLE 1: EXECUTOR
I appoint Janet Marie Drake as the executor of this will. If the appointed executor is unable or unwilling to serve, I appoint Jack Charles Drake as the alternate executor. My executor shall have the full power and authority to administer my estate, pay my debts, and distribute my assets according to the provisions of this will.
ARTICLE 2: PAYMENT OF DEBTS AND EXPENSES
I direct my executor to pay my funeral expenses, and the expenses of administering my estate as soon as reasonably possible after my death.
ARTICLE 3: SPECIFIC BEQUESTS
I give, devise, and bequeath the following specific items and/or sums of money to the designated beneficiaries:
- To my mother, Janet Marie Drake, I give you all of my clothes and books, in the hope that you will donate it to those in need. I give you my collection of antiques, including the lamp from Grandfather Charles and the three roman coins I bought in an auction two years ago. Lastly, you may receive my violin and bow.
- To my father, Jack Charles Drake, I give you my analogue camera in the hope that you will continue to take pictures with it. I also give you the 356$ I have saved at the current date, which you may donate to the Martha Wayne charity. Any toys may be given to the shelter on fourth’s Street.
- To my neighbor, Bruce Thomas Wayne, I give the box of pictures hidden below the second floorboard to the right of the door to my room, which no one else shall open. Attached to the box will be a letter addressed to Mr Wayne, which shall be delivered unopened as well.
- To my neighbor and acquaintance, Richard John Grayson, I give you the picture from Haly’s Circus that is currently on my nightstand.
ARTICLE 4: GOVERNING LAW
This will shall be governed by and construed in accordance with the laws of New Jersey.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have set my hand and seal to this last will and testament on the date first above written.
Timothy Jackson Drake
Tim D.
In all honesty, the will isn’t actually legal, Tim realizes years later. He did not go to a notary for another four years and he had no legal capacity to administer it. He likes to believe it would've been honored anyway, even if it was naive to believe that his parents wouldn’t look in the box he left for Mr. Wayne. Still, it had been his very first will, and he’d done a pretty good job.
He updated his will on his birthday two years in a row, though not much changed. He updated it again two months after his twelfth birthday when news broke that Robin had died.
He’d included Jason in his will since the start of his career as Robin, leaving him a few cases Tim had been working on and all the photos he’d taken of him. That obviously wasn't needed anymore. It was the first time Tim cried over his will.
He updated his will again five months later, when his own tenure as a teenage vigilante began. He had to go train in Paris, which was probably the hardest thing he’d done in all his life. It made him stronger, a better fighter. It made him harder, less trusting, less naive.
Tim was acutely aware of the danger being Robin posed, of the threat it was to his continued livelihood. Was it morbid to update his will so much? Morbid to have a will at 12 and 3/4? He was sure B would kick him out should he become aware of it. But Tim didn’t see it like that. Didn’t see it as a threat or an acceptance of his own death, it was just one more contingency in a long line of them.
He updated the executor from his mom to Alfred, mostly because he always felt bad that his parents would have to execute it. Besides, he trusted Alfred not to look into his secrets, should it come down to that. Dick turned from neighbor to friend, a decision which he hoped wasn’t too forward. He wasn’t sure what exactly his relationship with Nightwing was but he felt like they were more than acquaintances. Probably.
To my neighbor, Bruce Thomas Wayne, I give the box of pictures hidden below the second floorboard to the right of the door to my room, which no one else shall open. Attached to the box will be a letter addressed to Mr Wayne, which shall be delivered unopened as well.
- To my mentor, Bruce Thomas Wayne, I give you the lockbox in the safe behind the back wall of my closet. You are aware of the password, the key is on the grandfather clock in the second living room. I give you my staff as well as the other contents of this safe. A letter will be in my file under the name: report_76246_T_D.
Tim updates his will like normal on his 13th birthday and then again shortly before his 14th, when his mom passes away. It feels clean, a bit of normalcy in the chaos that is his current emotional state. He doesn’t know how to feel about her death. He’d barely seen her before anyway, but he had trusted her, had loved her at some point. And now, she was gone, leaving behind an almost orphan and a comatose father. It feels unreal. He hates it.
His residency changes from Drake Manor, 1008 Mnt. Drive to Wayne Manor, 1007 Mnt. Drive, his secondary executor becomes B. He decides to leave his costume to Dick, who was the original owner anyway.
Tim adds people to his will after Young Justice forms. It only feels right. He starts writing letters, not just for Bruce but for all of them. It feels good, to be able to tell people what he thinks of them, to show open affection without shying away from his emotions. He wishes he could just tell them what he feels, he can’t.
His residency changes again when his Dad wakes up and it’s not without some major regret that he moves back in with him. Their relationship is strained, more so when his dad finds himself a new wife, as if Tim’s mom meant nothing. He doesn’t talk much anymore, and he escapes every chance he gets.
Life happens, drastic changes are accounted for, as in Jason’s return to Gotham, his murderous intent and the fact that Spoiler is now a thing. Tim doesn’t have all that many earthly goods but he tries to divide them fairly.
He’s intensely glad his will doesn’t come into fruition after Jason’s attack on the tower. He had expected many deaths but not by the hand of a former friend.
Batman gifts him a mental breakdown for his fifteenth birthday, a week of paranoia and changing his will no less than 13 times.
Then his dad finds out about Robin and makes him stop. Tim wants to laugh, laugh until he cries because his dad has never once cared about his hobbies and he probably wouldn’t care if Tim died right this second but the single piece of joy he has left in his life, that’s unwanted. His dad threatens to shoot Batman with a gun.
He hangs up the mantle, breaks up with Spoiler and rewrites his will. Jack gets omitted entirely.
- To my best friend, Conner Kon-El Kent, I give you all my comic books, my kryptonite stash under the stairs, my sunglasses, Redbird and my collection of Batarangs.
- To my best friend, Bartholomew Henry Allen II, I give you Redboard, my chemical analysis kit, my bo-staff and my camera to capture all the best moments for me.
- To my best friend, Cassandra Elizabeth Sandsmark, I give you my utility belt and my computer, to do with as you please.
As it turns out, he hadn’t even needed to include his Dad anyway, because he dies within three months and Tim’s return to the battlefield is bittersweet.
Jason is still murderous but that horror soon gets exchanged for an equally murderous brother in Damian. It’s hell, having to live with him. Having to trust him, work with him, when Tim knows the little bastard would stab him in the back as soon as he got the chance.
Spoiler dies except she really doesn’t and his horror of a 15th birthday gets trumped by his sweet 16th. The amount of deaths that come with her return makes bile rise up his throat. Worst, she doesn’t even seem particularly remorseful.
He’s teetering close to an edge, begins to update his will every month instead every half year. He almost stumbles head first over the cliff when Kon dies. It’s not the first friend that dies and it won’t be the last. It breaks something inside Tim, something he wasn’t aware he was even harboring.
It’s with cold ease that he updates his will once more, his fingers shaking so hard he mistypes every other word and he can’t even see the dreaded letters through the tears in his eyes.
Bart dies and Tim wants to scream and rage and cry but he doesn’t do any of that. He just stares silently at the grave to his feet. It’s not raining but it should. Tim’s not crying but he should.
None of his friends had made a will, a testament to their hope, maybe. He wishes they had, so he wouldn’t feel like a criminal going through their belongings, taking what he can stomach, leaving everything else behind. It wasn’t right. Tim was supposed to be the one to die first, he had it planned out, they could’ve lived on. He can’t. He cannot live like this.
Bruce disappearing is the cherry on top of the cake that is the worst year of his live. He’s sure he will have a mental breakdown, sure that someone should be doing something. But nobody is left to care for him. Dick has his hands full of baby-assassin and Cassie now has to bear the toll of being the sole leader of the teen titans. Tim is utterly alone.
The portrait is new and no one else seems to think that’s strange. He has a breakthrough instead of a breakdown and somehow that isolates him more.
He updates his will one final time, then he leaves the city.
Timothy Jackson Drake
Wayne Manor, 1007 Mnt. Drive
Bristol, New Jersey, 08711
11.4.XX
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF Timothy Jackson Drake
I,Timothy Jackson Drake, of Wayne Manor, 1007 Mnt. Drive, Bristol, New Jersey, 08711, being of sound mind and legal capacity, do hereby make and declare this to be my last will and testament. I revoke any and all previous wills or codicils made by me.
ARTICLE 1: EXECUTOR
I appoint Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth as the sole executor of this will. My executor shall have the full power and authority to administer my estate, pay my debts, and distribute my assets according to the provisions of this will.
ARTICLE 2: PAYMENT OF DEBTS AND EXPENSES
I direct my executor to pay my funeral expenses, and the expenses of administering my estate as soon as reasonably possible after my death.
ARTICLE 3: SPECIFIC BEQUESTS
I give, devise, and bequeath the following specific items and/or sums of money to the designated beneficiaries:
- To my closest brother, Richard John Grayson, I give you the picture from Haly’s Circus that is in the safe of my wardrobe. I give you any technical-assets left in my room in the manor, my uniform and give you my shares of Drake Industries and Wayne Enterprises. I bequeath you the power to appoint a new CEO of WE under the express negation of any right of one Thomas Elliot to such a position. I leave you with the rest of my estate that I do not present to another person in this will.
- To my not-brother, currently known as Todd Jason Peters, I leave you Redbird, the house on 21st Str., the lake home in Washington and the apartment in New York. I give you a college fund that shall only be accessed for a degree. I give you my collection of first edition books and the gun currently in the second drawer of my closet.
- To my legal relative, Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, I give you the express permission to continue using my name. I give you a trust fund to be accessed after your high-school graduation, with a sum of 250.000$ expressly for the purpose of a college-degree. After you have received such a degree, you may become the majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises. I leave you the lockbox in the save behind the painting in the east-corridor, in the hope that you may feel closer to your father. Finally, I give you the antique daggers that are currently on display above the fireplace in the main living room of Drake Manor, in the hopes that you know what to do with them.
- To my sole remaining best friend, Cassandra Elizabeth Sandsmark, I leave a sum of 100 000$ as well as the remainder of my life insurance policy. I give you the apartment in San Francisco and the Manor in Seoul. I leave you the remainder of my photos, my camera and my computer.
- To my sister, Cassandra Wu-San Wayne, I leave the Redboard, my bo-staff and my shares in any company outside of Gotham. I give you the apartment in Hong-Kong and my mothers jewelry.
ARTICLE 4: GOVERNING LAW
This will shall be governed by and construed in accordance with the laws of New Jersey.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have set my hand and seal to this last will and testament on the date first above written.
Timothy Jackson Drake
Tim D.
He payed two men rather handsomely to become his witnesses and finally a notary who could overlook his age. It was the first will that would probably be legally binding, even if he wasn’t yet an adult. It was also a far more valuable will than the ones before, he’d come into his inheritance and his parents had had quite a few assets around the world. He knew that Bruce had left him WE, likely because Dick was possibly the most inadequate person on the planet to handle a large company. But he would have to become emancipated to accept those shares and that would take time, time he didn’t dare waste when he had to prove that all of this wasn’t actually real.
His traveling makes it impossible to renew his will but for the first time since he’d begun making them, he felt at rest with it. He’d made sound decisions and he was sure if he left the world tomorrow, they would be able to keep going. Tim on the other hand, well, let’s just say he was seeing the other side of the edge right about now.
He triggers the button that would release all the info as planned in the hot desert sand.
Tim closes his eyes.
-
Tim wakes up.
Oh shit.
Tim’s not actually sure if anyone else is aware he’s alive until he returns to Gotham, newly traumatized Tam in tow. He has the proof but far more urgently, he needs to be emancipated like yesterday. He prays that they hadn’t announced his death to the news yet.
He makes a beeline to Lucius and his prayers are answered because Lucius has been waiting for him. Tim becomes a CEO.
Tim saves the city.
Tim scares the living shit out of Stephanie, makes Dick pray and Damian pull out his knife. That’s not new.
It’s too bad he dies again that same night, at the hand of Ra’s al-Ghul.
-
Tim wakes up.
Double shit.
So turns out Dick caught him. Awkward…
They don’t actually get a moment to catch up, Tim’s too busy trying to reign in his two non-dead best friends and he does a very poor job of it. He can’t bring himself to stop the chaos. He’s so glad he got to see them again.
And then Tam announces their engagement (?) and things get insanely complicated. It takes months before things calm down enough for everyone to process what had happened. Shit, B wasn’t even there for most5 of it.
So that’s why it catches Tim completely off-guard when he unlocks the apartment above the Nest to find most his family and friends there. He shuffles awkwardly and pulls off his jacket. They look somber.
“Did someone die?“, he jokes but winces at the thinness of his own voice.
“You did, apparently, Dickhead“, Jason says. He probably has the monopoly on death jokes in this family, right?
“I have no clue what you mean“, he feigns, even when he’s sure every single person in this room knows its a lie.
“This is an intervention Rob, -hey is that still your name, because we have tworob’snow?- Doesn’t matter, we’re talking about you will, right? That was so weird, Cassie gave it to me, man have you read it? Duh, you have, butyouknowwhatImean-“ Bart buzzes, disappears and reappears with a Zesti. It opens with a zich.
“What the speedster is failing to detail, Drake, is that this meeting concerns the alert that arrived approximately five months after your departure. It gave us access to you apparent last will and testament and raised questions concerning your overall sanity and general will to live-“
“-Damian“, Dick hissed, elbowing his younger brother in the ribs. Tim blinked. Yeah, that made sense.
He pulled out a chair from his dining table.
“I am aware that the alert went out and was rather thankful that you hadn’t declared me dead yet, when I returned. Obviously, it was a mistake, since I kept living.“
Bruce was giving him a glare that normally would raise all the hairs on the back of his neck. It was the look he normally reserved for criminals and crime-scenes he was trying to deduce.
“Tim-, why did you even have a will?“, Cassie asked. Her eyes were watering. Tim didn’t really get it.
“I mean, after everyone died it was only logical? Kon and Bart didn’t have a will and that was pretty awful I always try to be prepared, you know me.“
Had it only been his friends in the room, they would’ve swallowed the lie. But lying to Batman was always significantly harder, even when he wasn’t under intense scrutiny. Now, Bruce coughed and shook his head. Tim amended his story.
“So maybe I had a will before all of that, but I mean I was aware of the dangers of my job. It made sense“
“After Dick informed me, Barbara and I found years of backdated testaments on your computer, Tim.“
Dick looked like he might’ve swallowed an entire orange.
Oh no, this wasn’t good. He’d sworn he deleted all his old wills before leaving Gotham but then that time period was rather hazy in his mind.
“Ok, so funny story but-“, he doesn’t even know what he’s gonna make up next but looking at the concerned faces of his friends makes him give up before he even tries. He runs a hand through his hair. It wasn’t even particularly nefarious or anything, he didn’t know why he didn’t want to tell the story.
“I guess it started when I turned nine. That’s the first will anyway. I’ve always been aware of death, I guess. And then I decided to write a testament because I was worried what my parents might do to my stuff if I died. It’s kind of morbid, looking back, but I really do like to be prepared. Still, the alert shouldn’t have gone out when it did. I’m sorry if I made you guys worry“
Suddenly Bart pulls him in for a hug. It’s nice, Tim likes Bart’s hugs. Kon joins him. God he’s so thankful that they weren’t dead.
“So you weren’t -aren’t- suicidal?“, Dick asks. Yeah, Tim could see how his actions could be interpreted that way. He shakes his head.
“No, no, I’m not. I rather like being alive, believe it or not.“ His eyes meet Jason’s across the room. A silent understanding. Death is an old friend at the end of a long road and a cruel mistress that takes and takes until nothing is left. Death just is.