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In the Beginning…
Neal wasn’t sure why he answered the ad. Yeah it sounded like easy money but acting wasn’t really his specialty. Con-man, most definitely but an actual actor-not so much.
Now here he was staring down at the tiniest thirteen-year-old he’d ever met, going over a contract as to how he was going to play the role of his uncle, so the kid wouldn’t have to go into foster care. If foster care was anything like Wit-sec he totally understood, but it still didn’t sit right with him.
“Okay, I get why you want me to play this role so that you don’t go into foster care. That part makes sense, but can you run it by me again as to why you don’t want Bruce Wayne to adopt you when you’re already halfway part of the family?”
“It would just be weird, okay.”
The kid took a deep breath and started going over it for a third time. How his son just died- a year ago now. And how he’d be imposing- even though he has been invited to the house several times and will still be visiting fairly regularly.
How he just wants to be alone- which is clearly a lie; his whole-body screams don’t leave me alone.
Neal tapped his chin and thought. The kid desperately needed help. The kid needed someone in his corner, he had nobody on his side. He was resorting to hiring a known Con-man to play his uncle to keep the vultures out of his inheritance.
He wasn’t normally one who tied himself down in one place, and Gotham was not where he would have chosen to settle if he were so inclined. But his heart broke for him. The little dude was lucky that he was the first one who responded to the ad.
Most people in his line of work would take the part just to sign the papers and screw the kid over. It would be as bad if not worse as if he hadn’t hired anyone. Too many of them would murder the kid. But he’s not sure the system or the Drake Board of Directors wouldn’t do the same.
“I’ll do it but I have a few conditions.” Neal said. “If I am going to play this part there are details we need to figure out. Where are we going to live? Is there an expense fund for you? Am I in charge of the company?”
“The lawyers said that all my money is tied up in a trust, only a percentage of it can be accessed and only by my guardian.” Tim rolled his eyes.
He’d obviously been attempting to do without a physical guardian and kept getting blocked.
“I have the townhouse plus the estate both fully paid for. There is a stipend for my guardian. Fortunately, they released the first month to me because I convinced them my guardian would be able to get here in a few weeks but was completely out of touch right now.”
“Okay. I won’t touch your inheritance money; I will account for every dime I have to spend on you if need be. If I’m actually fully responsible for you legally, we should live in the same house so I can actually take care of you.”
“Umm, that sounds a lot more like you want to adopt me than me hiring you.” Tim said nervously.
“How about we get to know each other first before we decide on that. Trial period of six months. You hire me at the rates already discussed and after that we have a few options. Either I will adopt you for real, I can help you find some other guardian, or you let the Wayne’s adopt you.” Neal ticked the options off on his fingers.
Tim thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “You got a deal. You’re hired for six months.”
Tim held out his hand to seal the deal just like Janet had taught him. Neal accepted the tiny hand with great solemnity. The kid shook Neal’s hand like a proper business man. Neal repressed his shudder at the way the small thirteen-year-old was acting like a fully grown adult.
It took one black eye after he visited Mr. Wayne’s house one day for Neal to cross the man off of the Potential Future Guardians for Tiny Timmy list. After that he started paying a lot more attention to what Tim was doing with his time. Tim snuck out. He lied. He came home with mysterious bruises and injuries.
This did not look good.
He knew the kid had just lost his parents and was going through a lot. Hopefully, he was just doing a little teenage rebellion and hadn’t joined a gang or started doing drugs or anything worse. As much as he had found joy in his own life of crime, he knew Tim could do so much better than he could.
Neal’s heart sank when he came home two nights later with a wicked looking knife gash across his shoulder and high as a kite. Okay, new plan: get Timmy off drugs, out of whatever gang he was running with, and protect the shit out of this tiny boy that had already stolen his heart.
First step: make sure that he’s okay tonight.
Neal took a deep breath and knocked on Tim’s door.
“Come in?” Tim sounded a little out of it but he didn’t sound like he was high out of his mind now.
Neal pushed the door open and stuck his head in. At Tim’s nod of permission, he came in and sat on Tim’s desk chair and pulled it closer to the bed. Tim was propped up with some pillow and working on his computer.
“Hey Tim. Do you have a few minutes? Can we talk?” Neal said nervously.
“Sure.” Tim put his laptop on the quilt next to him.
“Tim, you are a genius. The brightest kid I know, probably the smartest person I know.”
Tim was blushing like crazy and ducked his head into his knees to try and hide a bit. It was still hard to take a compliment even though Dick and Bruce and Alfred had all said the same thing many times in the past couple of years he’d known them.
“Can you explain to me why you think it's a good idea to start doing drugs? They are just going to destroy your life, kiddo.”
“What I’m not... I don’t do drugs.” Tim protested.
Of all the things his new guardian, employee?, friend?, might want to talk about this was nowhere on the list of possible discussion. He looked up like a deer in the headlights suddenly unsure of everything.
“Two nights ago, you came home high out of your mind, sweetie.” Neal sighed and leaned forward on his elbows. “You babbled to me for three hours straight about the history of insane asylums. While, you also tried to give the coffee-pot sentience. ‘So, it would know when to make you coffee.’ Just don’t lie to me please, Tim.”
“I… I don’t take drugs. I got hurt and needed some pain killers.”
“Okay,” Neal nodded.
Tim relaxed, maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought.
“About that, you came home with a six-inch gash on your shoulder. It had over twenty stitches in it and was professionally bandaged. Yet no one called me to the hospital. I called all the hospitals in Gotham and they have no record of a patient matching your description anytime in the last few weeks with such an injury. Who treated your shoulder? Why are you letting a back-alley physician take care of you? We have plenty of money for your medical expenses. You don’t have to put yourself at risk like this.”
The earnest plea in Neal’s eyes threw Tim for a loop. Did he actually care about his welfare? That is what this whole talk sounded like. It wasn’t like he was mad at Tim for tarnishing the Drake name or concerned about when he could get back to the mission. It sounded like he actually cared about how Tim was doing.
He didn’t even know what to do with that kind of care. The closest he’d ever had was Dick but even that was a distant kind of care. He cared but he also was very busy and a whole city away.
This was something else entirely. This was like parental care? This was what TV parents did. What he’d seen Bruce do with Dick and Jason. Neal had only been living with him for two months. How did he feel like he cared more about Tim than his parents had?
Tim burst into tears, great sobbing chest-heaving sobs. Neal’s face went soft and gentle. He slid onto the bed next to Tim and pulled him into a hug cradling him gently. Tim buried his face in his shirt quickly soaking the fabric with his tears.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been crying but his face hurt and his nose was all tingly and stuffy. He was tired of crying now, can he please stop? It seemed every time he thought he’d run out of tears more would leak out again. Or he’d feel Neal’s fingers run through his hair and he’d murmur a soft ‘I got you’ or ‘I’m here’ and he’d start sobbing all over again.
Neal just held Tim as he broke down. He didn’t know what to say or what to do so he did the only thing he could think of and held the boy in his arms and let him cry. He ran his fingers through his tangled hair and whispered reassurances he doubted he even heard. Eventually the tears slowed down and Neal stroked his thumb across Tim’s cheeks wiping them clean.
“Feel better, now that you got all that out of you?” Neal asked.
He felt a half-hearted shrug against his shoulder. Tim nuzzled deeper into his shirt hiding his face. Neal just kept running his fingers through his hair and let him hide from the world a little longer.
“I’m not doing drugs. I’m not.” Tim said muffled into Neal’s shoulder.
“Okay, I believe you baby.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. I’d like to know what is going on but I believe you.”
Tim drifted off to sleep on Neal’s shoulder. Neal held him long into the night, some paternal instinct welled up inside him. He wanted nothing more than to protect him. He hoped that Tim would learn to trust him, that he would let him in.
Tim of course wouldn’t tell him what was going on. He kept lying and sneaking out. He kept coming home so late it was almost early. And he kept getting injured. There hadn’t been any as bad as the shoulder wound-yet. But at least once a week he came home with a sprained wrist or a pulled shoulder.
He had acquired a dozen minor things that all could be explained by a skateboarding accident. Except that knife cut wasn’t from any skateboarding accident that Neal had ever heard of, and Tim’s skateboard hadn’t left the house in a month. Neal got Mozzie to send him a small tracker after the knife incident. So, unless the kid spoofed the data then he hadn’t been skateboarding in ages. Admittedly, Tim was smart enough to do that, if he found the tracker, but the thing was nearly invisible and it blended into the Robin pattern on the back of the board.
Looks like it was time for the old-fashioned approach. Neal waited until the next time Tim snuck out and followed him. Why was he sneaking into the Wayne house at night? Shit, were the rumors about why Wayne kept adopting orphans true!? Is that the real reason Tim didn’t want to be adopted? But why in the world was Tim going over there voluntarily?
Sometimes, Neal really hated people. He wasn’t a violent man by nature but he knew he would change that for this boy. He may just be pretending to be Tim’s uncle but he already thought of him as his kid. If Wayne was actually molesting Tim there would be nothing in the world that could stop him from killing the man. Mozzie would help him hide the evidence but even if he got caught it would be well worth it to protect Tim.
“Mozzie, I need a favor.” Neal dialed Mozzie’s current emergency burner phone.
“Ah mon frère, are you going to tell me what secret con you’ve been working on for the last few months?” His voice sounded tinny and muffled.
“No Moz, but this is important. I know you have plans on how to break into several ‘people of interests’ houses. Do you happen to have one on Wayne manor?”
“Mon frère, what are you doing! Don’t you know that Wayne is rumored to be the main financier for Batman? Any job you pull on him is a bad idea, nothing is worth getting on the capes radar.”
“Mozzie help me or don’t but I have to break in there tonight. There isn’t going to be a pay day from it either but I can’t drop it.”
“Neal, what is going on?”
“Moz, I’m kind of on a time limit. I don’t have time to convince you. I’m sorry I can explain later but do you have plans or not?”
With a heavy sigh Mozzie started in on explaining the known weaknesses that he could exploit.
“I want the full story if you make it out of there. Bonne chance.”
“Thanks, if I haven’t contacted you in three days….”
“I know.” With another sigh and worry curling in his gut Mozzie hung up the phone. He also started to burn the safe house he was staying in. If even half the rumors of Oracle's skills and loyalties were true then this place was way too hot for him to stay considering Neal’s current heist. He hoped whatever he was stealing was worth the caped crowd's attention.
This was a high stakes heist and Neal knew enough about the capes to know Mozzie was right to be worried about Wayne’s rumored Batman connection. But honestly it didn’t matter. He would face down all of Gotham’s capes and rogues to protect his kid.
He was already in the back garden of Wayne estate, following the same path that Tim did had obviously bypassed some of the security measures Mozzie had expected. Next, he had to get to the roof. Apparently there seemed to be an upper window that might not be fully guarded, if Mozzie’s illicit satellite images could be trusted. With no better ideas he mapped out a path to the rooftop. A quick jump to a nearby tree and he was on his way.
Mozzie’s intel was gold. Neal managed to pull the window up awkwardly by the tips of his fingers as he hung over the roof. Then he shimmed into the mansion. He was on one of the upper floors probably near the attic.
Was Bruce Wayne the kind of man to take a kid to his actual bedroom or should he be looking for a hidden sex dungeon. Neal didn’t want to waste a minute, so he decided to take a chance and check for the master first. Hopefully he wasn’t wrong and actually bypassing a soundproof room where Timmy could be in trouble right now.
Focus Neal. You can’t distract yourself with what-ifs. Mozzie had texted him copies of the official publicly recorded blueprints. Then he included the one he’d drawn himself- annotated by dollar signs cross referenced by artists as well as skill level needed for the heist for each room's art collection- based off of the TMZ cribs episode of the manor as well as any available publicity interviews.
On a different day Neal would have loved the challenge of lifting even one piece of some of those collections. Today he had a more important mission. To rescue his son. He made it to the Master Bedroom with no incident. There was no sound of anything happening, but if anyone could afford good soundproofing it was Bruce Wayne.
It was the work of seconds to pick the lock and let himself in the room. Neal doesn’t find Tim in the room. A small part of him is relieved, but the rest of him just cranks up the worry. Just because they aren’t here doesn’t mean they aren’t in another room doing the same thing that he’s afraid of.
Okay, if I were a billionaire where would I hide my pedophilic sex dungeon?
I wouldn’t ‘cause I'm not a creep. That helps nothing.
His phone vibrated in his pocket again.
Mozzie sent something else.
A list of probable places for secret passageways. Holy crap, Mozzie’s twisted little brain is a godsend. The nearest one is in the study on this floor.
Neal raced into the study silent but swift. Nothing looked out of place for an old manor like this. He quickly examined the bookshelves for any hidden mechanisms and gently tugged on the various paintings, but no hidden passageways. He did find a safe that he would have loved to try his hand at if he hadn’t been on such a desperate mission.
He was down to examining the items on the desk when he found a hairline crack in the bust of Shakespeare. Now it wasn’t a rare piece and probably not the original, so why would a Billionaire bother keeping a reproduction that was clearly broken. The head pulled back revealing a secret switch. A whole wall slid away and showed a ledge leading to two firepoles. There was also a set of stairs to one side and an elevator on the other.
Highly suspicious.
Neal took the stairs. Slower but more likely he could sneak up on anyone down here. He finally made it to the bottom of the stairs and well this was not what he’d expected at all. The computer bank, the medical stations, gymnastics equipment and cars did not say secret sex dungeon.
Was that the Batmobile, had he just found the fabled BATCAVE? Maybe Bruce’s connection to Batman was a lot closer than anyone thought.
“Okay, this is not what I expected at all.” Neal turned in a circle trying to take in the modern-day cave of wonders. “But why is ….”
He trailed off when he came face-to-face with a trio of vigilantes. Batman was standing there just as tall and imposing as in any of the few pictures the press had ever published. The cowl made him look inhuman, and Neal was forcibly reminded of all of Mozzie’s half-baked theories. His vampire theory was looking more and more likely the longer he stared into the creepy whites of the mask. Was the man even breathing?
The younger man in the blue and gold Elvis like suit had his head tilted and his face covered by a half mask. It was clear that he was typically the more lighthearted of the trio but right now his joking expression was quickly sliding into alertness. He had obviously not fully decided what to do about a stranger being in the cave but he was holding himself in readiness for any sign of hostility.
The youngest was wearing an outfit that made him look a little like a traffic light, and a look of pure horror on his face. It was the same look that Neal had seen on his face when he’d gone to confront Tim about his supposed drug habit.
“Timothy Jackson Drake, what the hell do you think you're doing running around as a vigilante? Don’t you know how dangerous that is?” Neal burst out. “Oh my God this explains so much. You're not in a gang, you're fighting the gangs.
“This is so much worse than I thought. Okay, well at least I don’t have to rescue you from Wayne’s sex dungeon, but a vigilante seriously.” Neal pinched the bridge of his nose though nothing in the world would be able to ward off this stress headache.
That finally pulled a reaction from the others. Disco-boy’s face slid into delighted horror.
“Wayne’s sex dungeon?” he asked.
“Everyone knows the rumors about his adopting kids. I never believed it before, but things weren’t adding up. Then following Tim over here and him sneaking into a grown man’s house at night. Why else would he do that, unless there was something hinky going on? Sex dungeons sounded a hella lot more likely than secret crime fighting caves.” Neal shrugged.
“Please, stop saying that.” Tim shuddered.
“Tim, you're grounded.” Neal said flatly his focus back on his kid.
“But wait, you can’t do that.” He protested.
“I am your guardian by law, and I said you're grounded. Now get out of that uniform and back in your street clothes you’re going home.”
“You can’t do that.” Tim repeated stunned. He looked briefly over at Batman to see if he would back him up.
“Kid, you're grounded, one week-not negotiable, for lying. Besides I know for a fact that you still have stitches in your shoulder there is no way I’m letting you jump rooftops like that. If you fell, you’d use your grapple and you’d pull all those stitches, and probably bleed out.”
“So, you're not grounding me from Robin forever?”
Neal softened a little as he heard the tremor of hope in his kid's voice.
“I’m not currently planning on that no.” He closed the distance between the two of them and hugged Tim close. “You and I are going to have a talk. Batman and I are going to have quite a few talks. Then we will see what you can do.”
“Like I can show you how I solved the Hayne’s murder in ‘77?” Tim said excitedly.
“That and show me what they taught you. I know you want to help. But you have to prove to me you're going to be reasonably safe out there, kiddo. You are my only priority, you're the one I need to keep safe.” Neal pressed a kiss to the top of Tim’s head.
Tim just melted; it was rare that anyone told him that he was important. Even rarer when their actions lined up with the words. Neal had proven time and again that he would be there for Tim. That he might even love Tim. He was still getting used to the idea that he might actually have an adult he could rely on but just maybe Neal can be that for him.
Finding a Father…
Everything wasn’t perfect after that; it never really is. Neal and Tim were able to hide behind the ‘Uncle Edward’ facade for a year before the bat’s caught on to the fiction. Bruce confronted Neal with an ultimatum: either adopt Tim for real or he would instead. Then Tim found out about the deal and put his foot down. Either they both adopt him or neither do.
That is how Tim became Timothy Jackson Drake-Caffrey-Wayne. Of course, the media only ever found out about the Drake-Wayne part not the Caffrey part. Everyone agreed that burying that part of the adoption was better. If they look too closely at Neal’s life the whole fake uncle house of cards would whip the media into a frenzy.
“Neal, I got the perfect job for you, but it's going to take five months. Get to New York as fast as you can.”
Mozzie hung up before Neal could say anything. He turned the phone over in his hands. Gotham was beginning to chaff at his soul. He could feel the familiar itch in his feet that he wanted to roam. Tim had come so far from the kid he first met that had no one on his side. Maybe it was time to see what was happening in New York.
After an awkward conversation with Tim, Neal went to find out exactly what Mozzie had planned. That was the beginning of the Adler fiasco. Everything went wrong with the con. This was the job that he regretted taking the most, it wasn’t because the con failed but because it marked the beginning of the end of Neal and Tim’s close relationship.
Neal and Tim managed to talk on the phone at least once a week in the first few months. But toward the end it seemed that the calls kept getting shorter or being rescheduled. After Adler gave him the password, he realized he hadn’t talked to Tim in a month and a half. He’d been too wrapped up in the con to pay attention to his son. Some parent he was, adopted less than a year and he already lost contact with him for two months.
He almost didn’t go back to Gotham afterwards, too afraid to take the step and go back. Walking into the townhouse felt like an ill fitted suit. It was cold and unfamiliar after the long months in New York.
Tim wasn’t in residence at the moment, and why should he be? He had a perfectly good room at Wayne manor, where his billionaire dad lived with a butler. Why would Tim even want to hang out with a con-man, and a failed one at that?
Neal made his way to Sunday brunch at the manor. He still felt like a fish out of water despite the numerous reassurances from Bruce that he was welcomed. Tim opened the door and welcomed him with a hug and a smile. He didn’t stop babbling the whole walk into the dining room. Tim told him everything that had happened in the last few months.
Tim was happy here. He wasn’t needed here; Tim was perfectly happy with his new family without Neal. It never occurred to him that Tim was so happy that morning because Neal was there. Instead, he just saw the kid he thought of like a son blossoming without him.
When he left, he hugged Tim as tight as he could knowing that he wouldn’t let himself have this again. He was in Gotham for less than a week, before catching a flight to Paris. His crime spree through Europe was supposed to distract him. It didn’t really work. He pulled off heist after scam after con but he still didn’t feel half as satisfied as he did for those few years in Gotham raising a kid that was better off without him.
Tim didn’t know what he’d done to make Neal abandon him. It felt just like when his parents used to go away unexpectedly for business trips. He obviously bored Neal with all his chatter at brunch and the man decided to up and leave- without even a goodbye. Tim didn’t even know where or why or most importantly when he’d be back.
Tim kept going through the motions trying to make himself focus on the training that Bruce was putting him through. But every time he tried to slip into the ‘meditative trance’ that he was suppose to use he just kept wondering what about him drove Neal away.
Bruce sighed, if he thought Tim had been distracted over the last few months while Neal was away on a job, he was twenty times worse now. Tim was going to get hurt if he stayed this distracted.
“Tim pack it up, you’re done for the night.”
Bruce didn’t want Tim hurt by pushing himself when he was too emotional. He was going to find Caffrey and rip him a new one for doing the same thing to Tim that his parents used to do. How could the man be so stupid? Bruce knew he had very little room to talk, but he’d actually thought better of the conman. He knew that Neal loved Tim so what was his problem?
Tim sighed and hit the showers. Now not only did Neal hate him for some reason he was disappointing Bruce too. He was a complete failure. He shouldn’t try to be a part of anyone's family anymore. He went to his room here at the manor and wondered when this family would abandon him too.
Neal couldn’t stay in Europe- it was too far away from Gotham, from Tim. And despite knowing that he was better off with Bruce he couldn’t help but want to see his kid. New York was close enough he could get to Tim in less than an hour instead of a day or two- you know if there was an emergency. Besides it had been a while since he’d seen Mozzie. Maybe, he had a few ideas that would keep him busy for a little while, anything to keep his mind off of how much he was missing his son.
Bruce’s search pinged the moment Neal boarded his flight to New York. It wouldn’t take hardly any time at all for them to make it to the airport and wait for his arrival. Tim was silent the whole way to New York. He didn’t speak until he realized they weren’t heading to the Titan’s tower instead they were heading into the city.
“Where are we going B? I thought you said we were going to meet Dick?”
“I said we were going to see family.”
“Other than Dick everyone else lives in Gotham though.” Tim’s nose scrunched up confused.
“Not everyone. Neal’s flight should be landing within the hour.”
“He doesn’t want to see me anyway.” Tim pouted.
“Buddy I’m pretty sure you're wrong on that. I know he loves you very much. He's just as bad at showing it as I am.” Bruce was well aware of his own faults. “I think he’s just afraid, but we won’t know for sure why he left until we talk to him.”
The meeting went about well as could be expected seeing as two of the three members had little to no warning about the upcoming heart to heart. Fortunately, Neal agreed to come to dinner at the Wayne Penthouse so that they could all talk in private. Tim cried and yelled at him when he told him why he left.
“You're both my dad’s. Yes, B is my dad but you adopted me too. I still need you in my life even if you don’t think that I do.” Tim sobbed into Neal’s chest.
“Oh baby, I’m sorry I fucked up. I shouldn’t have left. I should never have left without telling you.” Neal pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. Pulling him close and rubbing circles on his back as he cried himself to sleep in Neal’s arms.
“I didn’t think he’d miss me that much.” Neal said quietly. He and Tim were curled into the corner on one of the big overstuffed couches in the living room.
“His parents used to leave for months. The housekeeper only came once or twice a week otherwise he was alone in that big house. When they came back to town, they’d barely spend any time with him then be off again on another adventure, often without even saying goodbye.” Bruce said flatly.
“Oh god I really fucked up, didn’t I?”
“You did. Don’t do it again. I put your bags in the guest room. I don’t advise you to leave. Tim was inconsolable but resigned when you left. He kept asking me what he did wrong to make you leave.” Bruce took another sip of his scotch. “Stay here, at least while we're in town. Tim needs to see you.”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll stay for Tim.” Neal nodded.
The next day the two of them went to the new photography collection at one of the art museums while Bruce was in meetings. It didn’t fix everything but it did let them connect again.
Time passed as it always did, Tim and Bruce went back to Gotham. Neal got reckless and got himself arrested. Bruce paid for his best lawyer to represent Neal. Neal was convicted and went to jail but the fancy lawyers did manage to keep him out of the maximum-security prison they initially wanted to send him too.
He didn’t get many visitors; he had asked Tim not to subject himself to that scrutiny. They exchanged letters every other week, encoded and ciphered, because they were well aware of potential law enforcement reading them. Neal’s heart broke for his son as he read that Tim’s best friends had died.
When Bruce disappeared from the news, he figured something was wrong. The letters stopped. He only had four more months on his sentence, he could wait a little while before he checked on Tim- right? Neal wrote him a letter everyday trying to find out if Tim was okay.
“You got a visitor.”
Neal followed the guard in confusion, no one had visited him in prison. He sat down at the table where indicated and was even more confused when a girl he’d never met was on the other side of the divide. When she said her name was Kate and broke up with him, he nearly hyperventilated. That code meant Tim was in trouble. Within the week he was out of prison looking for his son.
He stopped in Gotham long enough to find out that Tim wasn’t there. Dick told him that Tim had left two weeks ago and he had no idea where he’d gone.
“All he needed was someone to believe in him, Dick, you couldn’t even give him that.” Neal yelled.
“It’s crazy, he’s just making up facts to fit his delusion.” Dick insisted.
“Jason came back, who’s to say that Bruce couldn’t. You guys face fifty impossible things a day and you couldn’t at least hear him out.”
“NO. I can’t. I can’t believe it.” Dick sob yelled before dropping into a desperate hushed voice. “I have to hold everything together, and I can’t let myself think that way. I can’t do this if I do.”
Neal’s anger cooled a little as he realized how close to breaking Dick was as well. He pulled the kid into a hug, holding him while he cried. Dick broke and the sobs racked his body.
When he could finally breathe without it hitching in his chest he pulled away from Neal. He wiped his eyes and tried to pretend he hadn’t just cried for half an hour on his shoulder.
“Sorry, for crying all over you.”
“Sounds like you needed to let it out.” Neal said. “Next time explain that to him don’t just let him think he is dumb or crazy.”
“I don’t know where he went, but I still have the PowerPoint presentation that he made to show me what he thought had happened.” Dick showed him to a spare computer and loaded up the files.
“I couldn’t bring myself to look at the whole thing.” Dick admitted with a cringe. “I called his friend to try and talk him down. After the two of them talked, Tim left town and I haven’t heard from him again.”
“Was that friend about Tim’s age, 5’3”, blond hair, and blue eyes?”
“Yeah, why?”
“She’s the one that gave me Tim’s code.”
“You're going to go find him, aren’t you?”
“Of course, whether he’s right about this or not he needs someone by his side right now.”
“Can you give him a letter from me when you find him? I think I need to apologize and I don’t want to wait until I see him again.”
“As long as you do it in person when we get back too.” Neal said firmly.
“I can have it ready in a few hours. While I do that, make a list of what you might need and I’ll see what I can help you with.” Dick nodded and took a deep breath. He was Batman and he had a mission to do, but at least he could help Neal with his mission too.
It took three countries and two weeks for him to find Tim. He finally caught up with him just as ‘Alvin Draper’ was pulling a heist in Germany. With Neal’s help they managed to keep the League off their backs as they tracked down clues. Mostly.
“What are you doing here?” Tim hissed at him as they dodged The Wild Huntsman.
The last thing he’d wanted was for his dad to be on Ra’s radar. It was bad enough that Ra’s paid close attention to the other half of his family, he hadn’t wanted to expose Neal to that attention as well. He’d only sent Cassie with the message so that he knew not to look for any letters from him for the duration.
“Heard you needed some back up.”
A bullet and two assassins crashed onto the scene. One of them rips the staff out of Tim’s hands.
“Damn it, Ra’s? Do you hear me? Call them off! Call them off now!” Tim shouts into his comm.
Tim tried to push Neal out of the picture not wanting him to have any more contact with the League. It didn’t work. Neal had learned his lesson the first time. Tim needed him, and he was going to be there for him.
Somehow, after Germany they wound up searching for Bruce with the accompaniment of three assassins. Then they made it to Iraq and things went downhill from there. The good part was they found the final clue needed to find Batman. The bad part was losing a companion, and a spleen.
Tim was just grateful it didn’t cost him anymore than that. He only had Neal to thank for that small mercy. Apparently a con-man wasn’t interesting enough for the Widower. He killed Owens, practically gutted Z, slit Pru’s throat and impaled Tim. Neal stared in horror for a moment as Widower thanked them for playing in his twisted games and left them all for dead.
With shaking hands Neal started to move. He rolled Pru over so she didn’t choke on her own blood, He ripped his shirt into shreds tying a bandage tight enough around her throat to staunch the blood but hopefully loose enough it didn’t strangle her. He turned to Tim and checked his wounds next, his hands trembled as he applied the pressure to his abdomen. Z gurgled and that was when Neal realized that he was their only hope for survival.
“Shit. Don’t panic Neal. You can do this.” He wasn’t a world class assassin, or a vigilante. He certainly wasn’t any kind of doctor or medic. He wasn’t anything but a dad doing his best to keep his son and his friends alive right now.
Tim woke up enough to help him drag Z and Pru to the Jeep. Neal just hoped he could remember the way back to civilization. There were three lives depending on him. More importantly, his son’s life depended on him.
After that Neal’s memory of events went fuzzy. Trauma response is a funny thing. In some people it lit up events in crystal clear high definition and played it like a movie on repeat in your head. In others it muted everything into a soft fuzzy blur until you weren’t even sure what was real and what things you made up.
Neal remembered clearly the feel of sand drying to the blood on his hands. He remembered Pru’s blood gushing through his fingers and the pink loops of entrails pouring from Z’s stomach. He remembered the heart stopping moment when he first saw the spear sticking out of Tim’s side and thought he was dead. He remembered the relief he felt when he saw Tim take a breath.
He doesn’t remember the trip through the desert, how they got to a League base or even meeting Tam or Ra’s. The next part that is clear in his mind is when he gets to hug his son once he had woken up from his impromptu splenectomy. He honestly blanks out much of the next few weeks as he and Tam try to avoid notice from an Immortal megalomaniac and Tim faced off against two different leagues of assassins and won.
They are all finally safely back in Gotham and Ra’s has been thwarted from his attempt to ruin Tim’s life. Neal and Tim sit in one of the lesser used drawing rooms.
“He’s a fair man Tim. I… I need to do it. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.” Neal said, holding his son tight.
“I know. I just…You were almost done. You were going to be able to come home.” Tim’s voice broke a little as he tried hard not to cry.
“I know, baby. I know.” Neal pressed a kiss to Tim’s temple. The teen buried his face in Neal’s neck and broke down crying all the pressure of the last year hitting him hard as he was finally safe in his father’s arms. Neal gently rocked him back and forth as Tim sobbed, unable to do anything but hold his kid together as he broke.
“I can’t go that long without seeing you again, Dad.” Tim whispered after a while.
“Okay, we will work something out.” Neal said.
Neal waited until Bruce had been home a week before he said his goodbyes. Tim didn’t want to let him go at all but he finally allowed Neal out of his sight. With one last kiss to his forehead Neal left to do what he needed to do.
It was late in the evening when he finally made it to his destination. He took a deep breath in and out working up the courage to take this next step. He willed his hand not to tremble as he knocked on the door.
“Mrs. Burke, nice to meet you. Is Peter home?”
This was different.
Neal can’t remember the last time he’d had a nine to five- that wasn’t a con. He might never have had a ‘real job.’ But here he was about to step off the elevator into the White-Collar Office for the first time, ready to start work as the FBI’s newest Criminal Informant.
Despite asking for the deal and knowing what it would entail he hadn’t let himself believe that it would be possible. He took a deep breath. He could do this. It was just like any other con. Fake it till you make it. He plastered a smile on his face and walked confidently into the office.
He approached the nearest agent, a young black female in a power suit. He gave her a flirtatious grin.
“I am supposed to meet Agent Burke. Would you happen to know where he is?”
“And you are?” she said flatly.
“Neal Caffrey. Charmed to meet you…?”
“Have a seat Caffrey. I’ll give him a call,” she said with a frown.
“Tough crowd,” he murmured as he sat in the chair indicated. He couldn’t even hear what she said on the call as she walked into a different room before she called him.
This might be a lot harder than he thought it would be. Whatever it was worth it if it meant that Tim could come visit him without going into a prison to do it. At least Bruce had set him up in the New York penthouse after he sent Tim the first picture of the room the FBI had arranged for him. He would have gone crazy with in the week if he had to live in that hellhole.
Within the hour of sending the picture, Tim and Dick and Bruce were knocking on his door and dragging him into the car which Alfred had waiting outside. An hour later he had his own room back in the penthouse and all of his suits, clothes and other things brought over from the Gotham Townhouse.
He jolted out of his thoughts when a stack of papers hit the desk in front of him. He looked up at the woman he’d talked to earlier.
“Peter, said you can get started on these. He wants to see if you can find anything everyone else has missed. He’ll talk to you when he gets here.”
“Yes ma’am,” he nodded.
Her lips twisted in a small smile as she returned to her own desk. This was going to be a lot more challenging than he thought. He focused on the file in front of him. It was strange looking at a heist from this point of view. Watching it unfold as each new piece of information was discovered. By the time Peter arrived in the office he had three different leads for them to try and a grudging respect for the FBI team that tried to track him down.
Peter rapped his knuckles on his desk bringing his attention out of the files. At his head nod Neal grabbed his file and followed the man into his office.
“You want to explain to me where you were this morning?” Peter asked.
“Umm, I was at home then I came to work. The work day starts at eight, right? Was I late?”
“No, according to Diana you were on time. I went to pick you up for your first day of work and you weren’t where I left you at the hotel.”
“Oh, I asked the desk man to give you a note. You said if I found rent for the same price but better, I should take it. I can give you my new address.” Neal said.
“You know that we are going to have to check the place, right?” Peter sighed.
“I know. The owner knows. They had their lawyer look over my contract so they knew what to expect.”
“Alright I’d like to see it after work then we can get it changed in the official files tomorrow.” Peter nodded at the case file in Neal’s hand. “So, what did you think?”
Neal’s face lit up as he started to explain the things that he wanted to check out. Maybe this deal wouldn’t be so bad. Even if it wasn’t perfect, he was at least able to see his kid again.