The Magical Hoodies of Wayne Manor

by Writer_loves_tropes

Summary:

Tim is in the process of being adopted by Bruce but he discovers that Wayne Manor has a secret (other than the Bat secret). When Tim is cold, Jason lets him borrow his hoodie and makes an offhand comment that all the hoodies in Wayne Manor have magic powers. Tim knows that it's highly unlikely that jackets have magical powers, but this is Wayne Manor we're talking about, so anything is possible, right? Plus, doesn't Jason's Robin suit give him magic?

aka: Tim is living in a house of detectives, but he's going to solve the mystery of the potentially magical clothing of Wayne Manor all on his own.

This is a fluffy story for Flufftober 2023, but there's a healthy amount of hurt/comfort and whump too!

Notes:

The sequel to That One Time Tim Adopted the Wayne Family is here! Prompt #1 - I've got you.

Chapter 1: No Teddy Bears were harmed in the making of this chapter

Gotham City Police Department is the last place Tim thought he’d be spending a Saturday morning, but as the newest addition to the Bat family, the police station isn’t even on the top ten list of Weirdest Places to Spend a Saturday Morning.

Tim bites his lip as he looks across Commissioner Gordon’s desk, trying to mentally fill that list. Number ten has to be the Batcave. Tim’s been down there a few times, but it’s still really cold and really creepy. Even with the space heater Batman keeps under the Bat-desk, it’s freezing. Almost as cold as the police station.

The only thing that’s keeping him warm at the moment is Jason’s borrowed hoodie. Jason handed over the hoodie and also informed Tim that the hoodie is magical. In fact, all the hoodies in Wayne Manor are magical according to Jason. As unlikely as that sounds, the cozy red hoodie instantly warmed Tim up. Tim’s not sure if his body temperature rose because the fabric held onto Jason’s leftover body heat, or that the hoodie has actual magic. Tim will have to investigate this new development in more detail when he gets home.

Tim chews on his lip a little more, trying to come up with number nine on the list, but the Commissioner says his name, which startles him back to attention.

“It’s good to see you again, Tim. Are you enjoying your time staying with the Waynes?”

Tim’s eyes shift from left to right. “Are you recording this conversation, sir? I don’t want to say anything I shouldn’t.”

Jason leans back in his chair, balancing on the two back legs. The aluminum chair creaks as he laughs, “Don’t worry, kiddo, Gordon knows the Bat secret. He’s an honorary member of the club.”

Tim knows, but he nods anyway, pretending that Jason is telling him new information. Tim knows the secret identities of more heroes than Batman does. Tim has been doing extremely thorough research on the superhero and supervillain community since he was eight years old. One of the few identities that still stumps him is the Joker. Tim had asked Bruce about the Joker’s real name and Bruce’s expression went dark. Bruce followed the Bat-scowl with an ominous, “Don’t ask me that again, Tim.”

Tim doesn’t plan to ask that again, ever.

Tim glances over to look at Bruce and the man gives him the most genuine smile he’s ever seen. He scoots his chair closer to Bruce and looks at him as he answers Commissioner Gordon’s question.

“My life at Wayne Manor is like a dream come true. Bruce Wayne is the single greatest human being on the planet, with no faults or defects at all. I am honored to be in his presence and beyond grateful to be looked after by this legend among men.”

Tim leans over in his chair and wraps his arms around Bruce as much as he can. He feels fingers ruffle his hair as the sound of Bruce laughing fills the room.

Bruce is still chuckling as he says, “We didn’t rehearse that, Gordon.”

“Yes, I did,” Tim says. “I practiced that speech so many times in front of the mirror, so I wouldn’t mess it up. I want it to sound natural when I tell it to the social worker, so she’ll let you adopt me.”

The chair squeaks louder as Jason leans back further. “If you want it to sound natural, maybe leave out the part that calls B a legend among men. You can replace it with Dad shaped doofus.”

This gets a laugh out of the commissioner, but he clears his throat quickly and gets back on track.

“I know that the three of you are here to speak to the court appointed social worker, but I’d like to run something by Batman and Robin first. There’s a new serial killer in the Narrows. Their killing methods are a little too precise to be human, so I think we’re dealing with a meta.”

Commissioner Gordon holds up a picture of a dead body surrounded by blood. Jason whips his hand in front of Tim’s eyes, but it’s a second too late and Tim whimpers.

The picture is slammed face down on the table, and Commissioner Gordon winces.

“I’m sorry Timmy. You shouldn’t have seen that. What was I thinking?” The clearly flustered police commissioner presses a button on his desk and says, “Sweetheart, can you come in please?”

Commissioner Gordon switches gears to apologizing to Bruce, Jason is talking to Tim like he’s a spooked animal, but Tim is only half-paying attention to all of that. The only person Commissioner Gordon would call sweetheart is his daughter. Tim’s going to meet Batgirl!

The door swings open and the real live Batgirl is standing in the doorway. Her red hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and that’s the same way her hair is in the picture that Tim saw on Dick’s dresser. She’s smiling in the picture, but in real life her eyebrows are scrunched all the way down below the rims of her glasses in concern.

“What’s up, Dad?” she asks.

“Can you take Tim to your office? I need to talk to Bruce and Jason about a case and I don’t think the subject matter is appropriate for little Timmy to hear.”

Tim hops out of his seat.

“Hi Miss. Barbara. My name is Tim. Your dad accidentally showed me a dead body. It was really gross. I’ll probably have nightmares about it tonight, but that’s okay, because he didn’t do it on purpose.”

Barbara Gordon smiles as she reaches out and holds Tim’s hand, ready to lead him out of the office.

“Hello, Tim. You can call me Barbara or Babs. Dick told me about you. He said you like computers. Do you want to see the set up I have in my office? It’s a dual screen monitor with a ton of extras.”

Tim squeezes Bab’s hand and nods. “You’re really pretty. Can you show me how to hack into national security?”

Babs laughs and the sound is really happy and warm. Tim can’t help but smile back.

Tim keeps holding Barbara’s hand as she leads him down the hallway. They pass the main area of the police precinct and Tim can see a few criminals being booked. He catalogues as much information as he can in case he has to report any of the information back to Batman. He squints his eyes to zero in on the exact design of a bald guy’s face tattoo, and the guy hisses at him.

Tim jumps and looks away. He hugs his free arm around his waist and really wishes that Jason’s hoodie had the magic of an invisibility cloak right now.

Tim only looks straight ahead for the rest of the trip. When Babs opens the door, Tim gasps. It’s even cooler than she described it. Commissioner Gordon’s office has those strange blinds that Tim has at school. The ones that open and close when you pull a cord. Babs has huge, heavy black-out curtains over the windows, making the whole office glow with an awesome blue, LED tint.

Her computer set up is almost as advanced as the Bat-computer, but unlike the Bat-computer desk, she has bobble head toys and plushies scattered around the computer station.

Babs sits in a state-of-the-art gamer chair, and reaches for her headphones.

“Lemme just finish up something real quick and I’ll show you some cool hacker things.”

Tim nods and looks around as Babs goes back to work. Tim likes to imagine that Babs is draining some evil corporate guy’s bank account.

The office is full of so much cool tech gear, and Tim wants to ask a million questions, but his eyes land on a cardboard box in the corner of the room. There’s something written with a black sharpie on the side of the box. It says, Police Evidence To Be Destroyed, but it doesn’t look like evidence to Tim. It looks like a box of teddy bears.

Tim gets closer to the box of bears and kneels down.

When Tim was younger, his mom let him have a grand total of one stuffed teddy as a baby, but after his fifth birthday, she informed him that he was officially too old for Teddy, and threw him in the trash. She also informed him that he was too old for the tears that followed Teddy’s unfortunate fate to the trashcan.

Tim stayed up all night that night so that he wouldn’t accidentally miss the garbage truck’s arrival the next morning. He snuck outside in his pajamas, at the dark hour of five in the morning and waited for a half hour for the garbage truck to arrive. Thankfully, his mom and dad aren’t morning people, so he was able to go undetected outside.

When the garbageman parked his truck, Tim explained the situation that he was too old for Teddy, but Teddy was an amazing bear that deserved a good home. Tim had tears rolling down his face, and as he was listing Teddy’s amazing qualities for the garbage collector, Tim hiccupped a few times, but managed to get the whole story out.

The kind man listened to Tim without interrupting. After Tim was finished, the man put Teddy on the dashboard of the garbage truck, right under the mirror. Tim thanked him and waved goodbye to Teddy.

For the next few weeks, Tim had made sure to be outside to greet the garbage truck, and every time that he saw Teddy sitting on the dashboard through the window, Tim waved to his former bear friend and thanked the truck driver for adopting Teddy.

Tim shakes his head from the memory and looks at the box of bears that are prepped for destruction. Not on his watch!

Tim scoops up a few of the bears in his arms. They’re all identical – sandy brown scruffy fur, with chocolate brown embroidered eyes and noses. The bears are about the size of his phone, and super squishy. Tim counts seven in total.

Tim smiles at the identical bear brothers. There are two sets of triplets, plus one. Tim knows there’s a word for seven twins, but he can’t remember it at the moment. All the bear brothers are wearing bowties, so he assumes that they’re boys.

“You found the box of bears,” Babs says, causing Tim to almost jump out of his skin.

“Yes, I did. Why are they being destroyed?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of sad. Dad brought those bears back from a drug bust. A local drug ring thought it would be a good idea to smuggle cocaine in dollar store bears. Those little guys in the box aren’t filled with coke anymore, but there’s still trace amounts on their fur so they can’t even be donated to a kid’s hospital or a homeless shelter. It’s such a waste.”

Tim looks at the bears and shakes his head.

“I won’t let you get murdered. I’ve got you.” Tim looks over at Babs who is looking back at Tim like he’s as adorable as the bears in the box. Tim puts on his best puppy dog face and pleads. “Please help me save these bears. Please.”

“Hmm. I can help you smuggle the little fuzzies out of here, but they’ll still have trace amounts of drugs on them, so it’s not exactly safe for a nine-year-old to handle.”

“I’m ten.”

Babs continues as if Tim hadn’t said anything.

“A washing machine won’t clean off all the residual powder, but Bruce has access to Wayne Labs and I’m sure he has an advanced centrifuge or something that can decontaminate the fuzzy wuzzies. The Batcave has machines that can clean off radiation, so I’m pretty sure either Wayne Labs or Bruce’s cave can make sure these little guys aren’t going to be dangerous to hug.”

Tim tries to stick one of the bears in the front pocket of his hoodie and Babs laughs.

“There’s a better way, Timmy. Take this backpack and put them inside. I’ll tell your dad and mine that I gave you an official GCPD backpack as a souvenir. It’s got the police shield logo on the front pocket.”

Tim loads the bears into the backpack and ignores the thought that he’s stuffing stolen police evidence into an official police backpack.

He whispers to the bears, “I’ve got you,” one more time before zipping up the backpack and slinging it over his shoulders.

Babs’ phone dings and she tells Tim that Commissioner Gordon is done, and Tim can go back to Bruce and Jason. Tim is a little sad that he didn’t get to learn any hacking tips, but bear safety comes first.

When Tim returns to Commissioner Gordon’s office, Babs tells them about Tim’s new souvenir backpack, and Tim tries not to sweat. He just has to play it cool until he gets home.

As Babs talks with her dad and Bruce, Jason elbows Tim.

“What’s in the backpack. You’re holding those straps like you’ve got stolen diamonds in there.”

Of course Jason knows. He stole the tires off the Batmobile. He would know if someone was being shady.

Tim keeps his voice to a whisper.

“I can’t tell you, or you’ll be an accomplice. Just trust me. What I have in here will save lives.”

Jason lifts an eyebrow, but nods slowly as he does the zip motion across his lips.

Tim continues to wipe the sweat off his forehead and ignore his pounding heart, as the seconds drone on. After what feels like an eternity, Bruce says goodbye to the Commissioner and waves. Tim channels as much of Janet Drake’s cold indifference as he can, so that he can look the commissioner in the eyes as he secretly commits a crime.

Bruce says cheerfully, “Let’s go see the social worker, Timmy. After that, we can head home and have some of Alfred’s famous chocolate chip cookies.”

Tim’s heart almost slows down to normal speed, but as everyone rounds the corner to the elevator, Tim can hear loud barking. The barking only gets louder, and in seconds a police dog is biting onto Tim’s backpack aggressively.

Jason grabs onto Tim’s arm to keep him from being pulled down, but the police dog is pulling and growling, and Tim starts shouting for help.

Bruce pulls the backpack straps off Tim’s shoulders, freeing the boy from the dog’s new chew toy, but Tim manages to shake loose from Jason’s grasp, and grab ahold of one of the backpack straps. Tim holds onto the strap and tries to pull it from the police dog’s mouth, but the dog pulls the backpack and Tim with it. Tim faceplants, but his face is cushioned by the bears in the bag.

“Stop,” Tim yells, but the police dog drags the backpack, along with Tim, across the floor.

“Heel,” a deep voice says, and the police dog instantly lets go of the backpack, but barks loudly. The man walks over and pets the dog’s fur as the drug sniffing dog growls at the backpack that Tim is now cradling in his arms.

The man introduces himself.

“I’m Officer Mason and this is Sadie.” He points to the police dog. “I’m sorry if she scared you. She only gets this aggressive when she’s sniffed out some drugs. You wouldn’t happen to have drugs in that backpack,” he adds with a laugh.

“Yes,” Tim says firmly. “I do.”

Tim doesn’t exactly like admitting to his criminal activities, but Sadie is just doing her job and Tim doesn’t want her to get in trouble. Hopefully after Tim is arrested, Bruce can still take the bears to be decontaminated.

Officer Mason is still laughing.

“You have drugs in that backpack?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jason steps forward, but Tim holds up his hand and starts talking before Jason tries to do something heroic.

“I acted alone,” Tim says, and then turns to Bruce. “I’m sorry, and I know this will complicate the adoption process, but you have even more money than Dad does, and Dad told me that he has enough money to pay his lawyers to get away with murder. I don’t know how serious drug charges are, but I don’t think they’re as bad as murder.”

Officer Mason has already unzipped the backpack and is holding one of the bears in his hand, with his head tilted to the side.

“These are the toys me and Murphy confiscated from the drug bust.”

“Yes, sir. I won’t resist arrest. Just please let Bruce have the bears so that he can clean them. They don’t deserve to be destroyed. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tim puts his arms together, palm side up and waits for the handcuffs to be put on his wrists. He’s ready to face the consequences of being a hero.

 

__

 

Tim blinks his eyes as he stares at the ceiling. Thankfully, it’s the ceiling of his bedroom and not a jail cell. Technically, it’s the ceiling of a guest room that he’s staying in until his real bedroom is fully prepared in Wayne Manor.

Tim did not get arrested, the bears are going through their last decontamination cycle in a fancy machine in the Bat Cave, and the police station not only thinks that Tim is not a criminal, they all had a good laugh at what he did. Commissioner Gordon told Tim that it’s one of the funniest things that has happened at the station and that he can’t wait to tell the police sergeant all about it at the Governor’s Ball.

Tim’s adoption wasn’t affected by his criminal activities either. The meeting with the social worker went well and Bruce is continuing to work with his lawyers as quickly as he can on Tim’s adoption. There’s an appointment set up for family court later this month, which means Tim has to see his mom and Dad in court. He doesn’t want to think about that right now. He wants to cross his arms over himself and continue to hug himself wearing Jason’s hoodie. He wants to just forget all of today’s drama.

The hug is nice. Hugs make him feel good, but if they last too long, he always starts to feel antsy and uncomfortable, but this feels different. This feels like a hug with Jason that will last forever with none of the uncomfortable weirdness.

Maybe this hoodie really is magical.

Tim got away without any jail time even though he was stealing and smuggling drug bears. What other explanation could there be for his freedom other than magic?

Tim continues to stare at the ceiling and lets his mind drift away from magic, and back to reality. More specifically, back to the color of the ceiling.

When Tim first arrived at Wayne Manor he sat with Bruce and picked out furniture from a catalog for hours. Bruce never complained, even when Tim kept changing his mind. Tim wasn’t trying to be difficult, he really wasn’t, but he wants his room to be just right.

The only thing Tim still can’t decide on is the color of the walls. Bruce agreed to give him a few days to decide, but the room has to be painted before the furniture arrives, so Tim doesn’t have forever to make his decision.

Tim’s eyes shift from the ceiling to the green walls of the guest room. Green is a good color for walls, but is it a good, good color?

The bed dips as Jason flops down next to him, holding one of the fluffy bears in his hand. The bear’s fur is even fluffier after his bath.

“Hey Timmers. What’cha thinking about?”

“Green is a good color, but do I want my walls to be the color of broccoli? I kind of hate broccoli. I don’t like spinach either and that’s green.”

“Yeah, well whatever you decide is gonna be awesome. Even if you want to paint each wall a different color.”

“Jason,” Tim gasps, horrified. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.” Just the thought of all the walls being mismatched makes Tim shiver.

Jason hangs around Tim’s room, and they play videogames until Jason’s watch goes off. Jason rolls off the bed.

“Gotta get ready for patrol. Don’t kill too many braincells thinkin’ about wall colors.”

“Once I pick a color, I have to pick a shade,” Tim says with a huff, flopping his head on his pillow.

“Glad I’m not you, but on the brightside, you saved seven bears from the woodchipper. Celebrate the little victories my dude.”

As Jason walks away, Tim looks down at the borrowed hoodie that he’s still wearing. Jason said the hoodies at Wayne Manor are magical. The word ‘hoodies’ implies that there are multiple magical hoodies at the manor.

It’s been a long day, and Tim is tired enough to sleep for forty-eight hours straight, but maybe… maybe the hoodie really is magical.

Tim looks at the bear that Jason left behind and sighs, “Do you think this hoodie really has magic?”

The bear looks back at Tim with his embroidered smile.

Tim lives in Gotham. The fact that Wayne Manor is filled with magical clothing isn’t even close to the craziest thing that Tim has experienced living in Gotham. Granted, Bristol Township is a lot less weird than Gotham City, but there was that one time Tim saw a black cat wink at him and then disappear into thin air when he was walking home from school, so the Bristol suburbs have their fair share of weird.

Tim drags his feet as he walks to the bedroom’s adjoining bathroom to brush his teeth. He hugs one arm around his waist, feeling warm and safe all over, and uses the other hand to brush his teeth. He looks in the mirror and the thoughts of magical clothing dance around in his head.

He’s going to have to investigate this much more thoroughly in the morning.

 

Notes:

Detective Tim is on the case lol. Thanks so much for reading!

The plan is to finish all 31 prompts (I've already written 7 and outlined the rest). I've started to experience slight writer's burnout, so updates won't be everyday, but I'll try to stick to an every other day or every three day schedule. I was supposed to do Whumptober, but I needed a little fluff in my life and the prompts for Flufftober were too cute to resist, so whump will have to wait until Febuwhump :)

Please let me know what you think so far and any questions, feedback, or thoughts are 100% appreciated.

Chapter 2: A beautiful day for a wedding

Summary:

Guess who's favorite uncle is back?

Notes:

Fake Uncle Eddie's name isn't Eddie in canon, but I like it that way for the story :)

Prompt #2 - Family, friends, loved ones

You are cordially invited to the joyous union of Edward Beren and Amy Cho. Please join the happy couple mark the first day of the rest of their lives together at The Gotham Cathedral, in the heart of Old Gotham.

Tim runs his finger along the edge of the ornate calligraphy letters, as he balances the wedding invitation on his lap.

It’s still hard for Tim to believe that he’s sitting in a limousine, wearing a fancy tuxedo, and on his way to fake Uncle Eddie’s wedding. The invitation had arrived a while ago, and Tim was nervous Bruce might say he couldn’t go, but Bruce was more than happy about Uncle Eddie getting married and insisted that the whole family should attend the “joyous occasion.”

When Tim called to RSVP, Uncle Eddie informed him that he wasn’t actually in love with his new bride, and that it was an arrangement for a woman that he met at a bar to get her green card. Tim conveniently left out that detail when he told Bruce that he confirmed with Uncle Eddie that the family will attend.

Tim focuses on what’s going on around him and peers out the window. He can see the Gotham Cathedral in the distance. The huge church is in the middle of Old Gotham, and it’s a popular location for weddings, but it was almost condemned. Jack Drake used to brag all the time to Tim about how he spearheaded the revitalization project to restore the church, along with four different buildings. He invested a lot of money in it, and he was so proud about all the profits he was making off his amazing investments.    

Thinking about Jack is making Tim feel uneasy. All of a sudden, his tie feels too tight, and he feels itchy all over. He sits on his hands so that he can force his body to stop sending signals to his brain to move around, but the urge to tug his tie loose is almost unbearable. He wonders if anyone would notice if he loosened his tie.

Geographically, Jason is sitting across from Tim, and sandwiched between Alfred and Bruce. The two adults are peering over the phone in Jason’s hand, both squinting in deep concentration. Tim can tell by the audio that it’s the video about who would win in a fight if a bear fought a T-Rex, and they were both T-Rex sized. Jason has shown Tim that video at least five times already.

They probably won’t notice anything he does.

That leaves Dick, who’s sitting next to Tim. Dick never notices anything. Tim could probably get away with just loosening the noose around his neck just a tiny bit. If he just –

“Hey, Timmy,” Dicks says, startling him. “You cold?”

Tim looks down at his bouncing knees and shrugs. Now that Dick mentioned it, Tim is a little cold, but he’s always cold.

Tim feels something soft and weighted being draped on his shoulders and his heart skips a beat. It takes a second to register that Dick just slung his Gotham U hoodie over Tim’s shoulders.

Ohmygodohmygod… Oh my god!!

Tim takes in the majesty of the electric blue hoodie.

(Tim has been looking at enough paint swatches to easily eyeball the difference between electric blue and Robin’s egg blue)

Dick’s blue Gotham U hoodie isn’t a slip-over-the-head hoodie like Jason’s. Dick’s hoodie has a zipper all the way down the front. It’s a proper jacket. The weighted jacket feels eerily close to Tim’s favorite weighted blanket and Tim feels the tension in his whole body melting away. He’s drifting on such a cloud of happiness that he almost misses the next thing Dick says entirely.

“– until we get to the church and sadly, you’ll have to take it off because Brucie Wayne loves being black-tie appropriate.”

Tim can see Bruce’s eyebrow twitch, but the man doesn’t look up, so it was probably an involuntary twitch from hearing his name.

Tim is having a hard time finding the words to say thank you (just like with the Jason hoodie incident back at the police station), so he leans his head against Dick’s shoulder and curls the edges of the jacket together so it’s like a cape.

Dick chuckles, “Let me help you, silly.”

Dick zips up the hoodie so that Tim is properly cocooned inside, and Tim can’t help deflating, with a heavy sigh. Dick laughs again and puts his arm around Tim to draw his little brother closer.

 “Magic,” Tim mumbles, as the limo pulls into the church’s parking lot.

 

_______

 

“Fellow friends, family, and loved ones…”

Tim remembers that same line being used during a funeral he went to last year for Mrs. Mac’s cat.

Dearest Mitsy was a lovely cat. The few times that Tim went over to Mrs. Mac’s house, Mitsy dutifully ate cheese squares from Tim’s hands. She would always lightly nibble on his fingers after the last bite. It was probably due to the fact that the fifteen-year-old cat was blind.

Tim’s daydreaming ends just in time to hear the line he’s been waiting for. “May I have the rings?”

Tim lifts a pillow that contains two shiny rings. Uncle Eddie hadn’t mentioned that he wanted to make Tim his ring bearer in the invitation. That was a surprise that the groom sprung on him when he arrived at the church. Tim still thinks he’s a tad too old for the job, but Uncle Eddie probably doesn’t know any kids younger than Tim.

Uncle Eddie looks down at Tim and winks, “Thanks, Squirt.”

“Congratulations,” Tim says smiling.

Uncle Eddie pats Tim’s head and plucks the rings from the pillow.

After a few vows are exchanged, Uncle Eddie kisses his bride, and everyone cheers. Tim’s family is sitting in the front row so when Jason sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles, it’s so loud that Tim temporarily loses his hearing.

Alfred, sitting on the other side of Jason, lightly dabs the corner of his eyes with a white handkerchief. Tim’s hearing comes back just in time to hear Bruce chuckle, “Old softie.”

Alfred answers by swatting his hand at Bruce.

Tim looks back at the bride and groom and wonders if a wedding kiss should include the hand that Uncle Eddie is sliding down his new wife’s waist. When Uncle Eddie starts to caress his new wife’s butt, Tim blushes and tastefully looks away.

 

The reception is far more laid back than the wedding. Tim can finally loosen his tie without looking out of place. He’s midway through counting roses on the wedding cake (thirty-five) before Uncle Eddie walks up to their table and makes him lose count.

“Hey, Timmy.” His tie is looser than Tim’s. “I’m real happy you could make it, and thanks for keeping those rings safe for me. I owe you one.”

“Can I collect my favor in the form of you saying horrible things about my parents in court so that it will be easier for Bruce to adopt me?”

“I heard about the court case,” Uncle Eddie says with a wince. He squats down to be level with Tim. “Talking trash about your folks won’t cost you a favor. I’ll gladly do that for free, Squirt.”

“Thanks, Uncle Eddie.”

Uncle Eddie stands up and his knees crack as he does. He says something quickly to Bruce that Tim doesn’t catch, and then makes his way over to the dance floor with a cigarette in his mouth.

Tim’s thoughts linger back to his parents, and he really wishes he had Dick’s hoodie on right now. He takes a sip of water and the ice in the glass makes him shiver. He crunches on a piece of ice as he goes back to counting roses on the cake. He gets up to nineteen this time before he’s interrupted by a man carting away the cake. Tim looks over at Jason and Jason says with a gleam in his eyes.

“Dude, that means they’re gonna cut the cake. I hope my piece has a rose on it.”

When Jason gets excited, he talks with his hands, and his hand brushes against Tim’s accidentally.

“Sorry,” Jason says automatically, but then he looks concerned. “Whoa, T. Your hand’s freezing cold.”

Jason cups Tim’s hand in his own and Tim is happy for the second of warmth.

“My hands and feet are always cold. My doctor said it’s because I don’t have a spleen anymore. He didn’t explain why though. He just told me that I’d always be colder than normal people and then he gave me pills that I need to take so I don’t get infections, because spleenless people get sick easily. I keep forgetting to show Bruce the pills so he can get me more, because I only have like ten left and I have a new family, so I think I have to get a new family pediatrician, because Dr. Richards was connected to my old family.”

Jason looks back at Tim with a look of horror, but quickly shakes the look away and sighs, “When we get back home, we can talk to Dad together about updating your medical files. I’ll be right back.”

Jason returns with Dick’s Gotham U hoodie in his arms and Tim is more than happy to curl up in the warmth.

The cake is brought back into the ballroom and Uncle Eddie and his wife walk over to cut the first piece. Uncle Eddie raises his champagne flute.

“Thank you all for coming to watch me and Amy get hitched. She made me promise not to smush the first slice of cake into her face, and since she made me an honest man now –”

He’s cut off with machine gun fire and the hoots of laughter that only one Gotham villain is known for.

Tim scrambles under the table and Dick tells him to stay there until they come back for him. Tim stays as quiet as he can as he listens to the sound of breaking glass and people shouting. Eventually, he hears Nightwing make a pun about Joker being a wedding crasher, and Tim takes a sigh of relief. Batman, Robin, and Nightwing will save the day.

Tim’s moment of relief ends instantly when the table he’s hiding under is flipped over. He shields his eyes from the bright lights, but he doesn’t see anyone, so the table must have gotten knocked over by a piece of debris.

Suddenly he feels a hand yank his arm and pull him away. He doesn’t even have enough time to scream before he’s dragged underneath another table. He turns to face his kidnapper, prepared to beg for his life, but it’s Uncle Eddie.

“Hey kiddo.” His voice is shaking. “Amy’s safe behind the DJ booth with her family. Once I was sure she was okay, I had to make sure my favorite little squirt was okay too. Are you hurt, little T?”

Tim shakes his head, but notices that Uncle Eddie’s hand is bleeding. He points to Uncle Eddie’s hand and the man winces.

“I got cut up on some glass, but I’m okay. Nothin’ to worry about.”

Uncle Eddie wraps a fancy cloth napkin around the wound and Tim huddles close to him, leaning against his side.

“Thank you for saving me, Uncle Eddie, and I’m sorry your wedding day got ruined.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Well, it’s not good, but it could be worse. There was a part in the contract that I signed that said if a villain attacks, I get a full refund.”

“Really?”

“No,” Uncle Eddie says with a laugh, “but there should be. This building’s security sucks.”

Uncle Eddie pulls out a box of cigarettes. He flicks his lighter and talks around the cigarette in his mouth.

“If anyone comes close, I’m gonna duck outta here so no one finds you. Even if you hear me yelling, don’t come out. Got it? It’s important that you stay safe.”

Tim leans all the way against Uncle Eddie and wraps his arms around his temporary bodyguard’s waist, and whispers, “You shouldn’t smoke. It’s not good for your health.”

“Yeah, Amy tells me the same thing.”

Tim pretends that he doesn’t see Uncle Eddie’s hand shaking.

It doesn’t take long before Tim can hear the sound of police sirens. Not long after that, a police officer peeks his head under the table and tells them it’s all clear.

Uncle Eddie hands Tim off to a flustered and very grateful Bruce Wayne. Tim doesn’t know if Bruce is pretending to be so upset so that he can sell the Brucie Wayne persona, but when he scoops Tim into his arms and gives him a kiss on the top of the head, Tim is pretty sure Bruce’s hum of relief is real.

When they get back to the limo Tim is still bundled up under Dick’s warm hoodie – the hoodie that Tim is convinced saved him from a Joker attack. Jason is sitting on Tim’s side of the limo for the ride back and Tim is watching the T-Rex vs. Bear video.

After the video ends, Jason finds a video from someone that recorded the fight with their phone. It’s a really clear picture. Nightwing carried the majority of the fight, and Tim couldn’t be prouder of his gymnastics coach. He makes a mental note to ask Dick if he can show him how to do some of the flips in the video during his next gymnastics lesson.

By the time the limo drops the family home, Tim has seized custody of Dick’s hoodie. Dick is never getting the hoodie back. He stifles back a yawn as he gets out of the vehicle.

He says a quick goodnight to the rest of the family and rushes to his room before Dick can think to ask for his hoodie back.

He closes his bedroom door and gets ready for bed. He changes into his pajamas, zips the hoodie over top, and climbs into bed. He’s still a little shaky from the attack at the wedding, but wearing Dick’s hoodie makes him feel warm and safe.

He snatches his composition notebook from inside his nightstand drawer, and scribbles down his observations of the second magic hoodie in his possession, right below his notes describing the first one he borrowed stole. Before he puts the book away, he scribbles down a few observations.

Dick’s hoodie proved useful as armor against a Joker attack today. I’m not sure if the hoodie will work against all Gotham Rogues. I need more data for proof. I need more hoodies.

Notes:

Thank you so much everyone. I'm always blown away by all the amazing comments and the kudos. I can't wait to share more of the story!

Chapter 3: Cinderella Moment

Summary:

Tim's magical collection is growing, but this time it's not a hoodie.

Notes:

This chapter is all fluff, so please enjoy :)
prompt #4 - Cinderella Moment (I had a really fun time with this prompt)

 

Tim’s hand pokes out from under his nice warm blankets and he blindly reaches for his phone. He needs to hit snooze on his alarm and then savor the five more minutes of extra sleep. Five extra minutes feels like hours when it’s a school day.

He ends up swinging his arm too aggressively in his pursuit of his phone and the momentum sends him falling off the bed and onto the floor. He takes a moment to honestly think about taking his five more minutes of sleep on the floor, but for one, his alarm is still blaring and there’s no way he can sleep through that. And also, someone is pounding on his door. That’s probably due to the loud thud he made when he hit the floor.

“It’s not locked,” Tim groans, and the door quickly swings open. Jason pops his head inside the doorway.

“Are you okay? I was just headed down for breakfast and I heard a thud. What happened?”

Jason is already in the process of helping Tim off the floor as Tim mumbles, “I was reaching for my phone, and it was further away than I thought. I guess I’m not getting those five bonus minutes of sleep,” he adds with a yawn.

Jason does a quick assessment for injuries, which Tim thinks is completely ridiculous because he just fell off the bed. It’s not like he was fighting Killer Croc. Regardless, Tim lets Jason do his Robin thing, and when Tim gets Jason’s medical-grade all-clear, the two head downstairs for breakfast.

As soon as Tim enters the kitchen, he can smell freshly baked apple cinnamon muffins. The muffins smell delicious, and the oven baked pastries have also heated up the kitchen to a nice warm temperature, despite the chilly morning.

“Master Timothy and Master Jason, a good morning to you both.”

“Mornin’ Alfie,” Jason answers back, raiding the fridge for juice. “Those muffins smell so good.”

“I assure you, they taste even better, my dear boy.”

Tim looks up at Alfred, who places a muffin in Tim’s cupped hands. Tim smiles at Alfred as he cradles the warm present in his hands.

“Thank you, Alfie,” Tim says. “Can I have two? I need the extra energy. I have to run the mile at gym class today and Mr. Roper, my gym teacher, told everyone to eat a really good breakfast so that no one passes out. Can you imagine how embarrassing that would be to pass out during class? Last year when I ran the mile, I tripped, and fell, and skinned my knee. The nurse gave me a band-aid with the Joker’s face on it, which I was not happy about, but it’s rude to complain so I didn’t. I had a plan if I had gotten attacked on the street and Batman had to save me. I would make sure to keep my knee covered so Batman wouldn’t think I was Team Joker.”

Alfred rewards Tim with a laugh and a second muffin. Tim balances his unbalanced breakfast in his hands, and heads over to the breakfast nook in the corner. The breakfast nook is a small table, by the kitchen bay window, that’s styled like a booth. The family likes to eat at this nook for breakfast in favor of eating in the large-scale dining room. Tim is more than happy to soak in the warmth from the oven and the additional warmth from the Autumn sun. As a bonus, when the family eats in the kitchen, Alfred usually joins them.

Jason sits next to Tim and tilts a carton of orange juice in his hand. He carefully pours a cup of breakfast juice for both of them.

“Do you get somethin’ special if you win the race?” Jason asks.

Tim shakes his head. He’s not delusional. There’s no way he’s going to win the race. He’s grateful that his mom never went through with her promise to skip him two grades in school. At ten years old, he’s still by far the shortest kid in his 5^th grade class. His shorter legs don’t have a chance against some of the sprinters in his class.

“Did someone say there’s a race,” a familiar voice says. Tim turns to face Dick and smiles.

“You’re still here, Dickie?” he asks his brother.

“Yup. My apartment at Bludhaven is getting fumigated so B said I can stay here until it’s done. And before you ask about the safety of the fine citizens of Bludhaven during Nightwing’s absence, I got a friend to fill in for me.”

“You don’t have friends,” Jason grumbles with a mouthful of muffin.

“Take that back, you misinformed horrible child. I’m the life of the party. I have so many friends that I can’t count them all, but since you asked –”

“I didn’t.”

“ – Gar is watching my back in Blud for me, and the only thing he asked for in return is to wear a super cool matching shirt that he made that says Blud brothers. I’m slightly jealous that he came up with the pun before I did.”

Tim tries to picture Beastboy watching over Bludhaven. He wants to meet Gar so badly. He has so many questions about his shapeshifting abilities. He also wants to see him turn into a dragon and breathe fire. Tim imagines himself riding on Gar’s back as the two soar through the clouds, the wind blowing Tim’s hair.

Tim’s daydream bubble pops when Dick points at Tim’s feet.

“Rule number one: There’s no way you can win a race without proper running shoes, especially if it’s a long race.”

“I don’t want to win, I just want to finish, and…” Tim pauses, sheepishly curling the toes of his socked feet to hide them further under the table, “I don’t have running shoes.”

“Hold up your foot, little dude,” Dick says. Tim does as he’s told and Dick presses his hand against the sole of Tim’s foot and hums. “Your foot’s too small to fit any of Jason’s sneakers, but I bet you can fit one of my old pairs. I saved some of my stuff from when I lived at the circus. I’ll be right back.”

Tim tries not to think about the fact that Dick was eight years old when he was in the circus. He really hopes that the borrowed sneakers don’t light up every time he takes a step.

Actually, a tiny part of him hopes they do light up every time he takes a step.

Dick returns with the hand-me-down sneakers and Tim slips his right foot into the right sneaker. His foot slides in. It’s a perfect fit!

Jason laughs from across the table.

“You know what that means, Cinderella. You gotta marry Prince Dickie and rule the kingdom of Gotham.”

Dick ruffles Tim’s hair, “I think in this scenario we’re the wicked stepbrothers, Jay.”

“Hey,” Jason huffs. “Who you callin’ wicked? Timmy and I are best friends, right Timbo?”

“Uh huh,” Tim agrees, “but quick question. Why didn’t Cinderella’s glass slipper shatter when it fell off and rolled down the stairs, or when the women in the village with the bigger feet tried to cram their feet into the shoe?”

“Magic shoes, magic rules I guess,” Jason says with a shrug.

Tim’s heart skips a beat.

Of course!

Cinderella has magical shoes, just like the magical hoodies of Wayne Manor. Tim had only briefly considered the possibility of other articles of Wayne clothing being magical, but if anything clothing related has the potential to be enchanted, that unlocks a whole new world of opportunities. Tim’s not one hundred percent sure if shoes are an article of clothing, but the sneaker he currently has on his foot feels warm, and tingly, and it certainly feels magical.

Tim slips his foot into the other sneaker, and it glides on just as easily. He laces up both shoes and is absolutely sure he’s got enough Wayne magic to win finish the race.

 

_____

 

Tim’s heart is pounding, and he’s taking deep breaths… and he hasn’t even started the race. He’s still at the starting line/finish line and he’s in the middle of warm up lunges that the gym teacher is guiding the class through.

Tim knows the importance of warming up properly. Jason told him that one-time he was rushing and skipped his pre Bat patrol warmup, and by the middle of patrol his leg cramps were so bad that Batman had to send him home early for the first time ever in his entire Robin career.

Tim’s mind drifts again to his Cinderella moment at breakfast. There’s no way Tim is giving back his new magical shoes. Dick gets easily distracted, so if he asks for them back, Tim’s ingenious plan is to start talking about Gar and the Titans, and Dick will almost definitely forget his train of thought and the sneakers will officially be Tim’s forever.

“Tim Drake,” the gym teacher yells out. “Earth to Tim. Start running!”

Tim blinks and sees that everyone has started the race and he’s already in last place. He rolls his shoulders back and starts to run. He pushes the memories of last year aside. Memories of running full speed and people next to him were literally jogging and still beating him.

Tim bites his lip and kicks his speed into high gear. He imagines himself racing from rooftop to rooftop, in the Gotham night, running alongside Batman, Robin, and Nightwing. The racetrack doesn’t have gaps to jump over, like when a person actually runs from rooftop to rooftop, so Tim changes his fantasy scenario to running through the underground tunnels of Gotham’s abandoned train stations.

Tim is gaining on the runner ahead of him. The runner that’s in his sights is a tall, skinny girl, with a blonde ponytail and a phone in her hand. She’s probably running slowly because she’s checking emails or social media.

Tim easily passes her and almost makes the mistake of slowing down to cheer. He keeps running top speed and passes a few more joggers and that means he might not finish in last place. He’s not going to be last!

His lungs are burning, his heart is pounding, his legs feel like jelly, but he’s so close to the finish line.

He’s not going to come in last – there’s at least four people behind him now – but there’s a boy right next to him, and if Tim really, really tries, he can pass him. So, Tim taps into the last of his reserves and runs like Clayface is chasing him.

When Tim’s foot stomps across the white chalk finish line, the boy to his right is so far behind, he’s left in Tim’s dust.

Tim staggers to the grassy area next to the track and collapses onto his back. He gulps heaving mouthfuls of air. He’s giddy enough to laugh out loud. Well, he will be once he can catch his breath.

Magic sneakers are the best!  

Notes:

I went slightly out of the box with the prompt. I think Cinderella moment means finding your Prince Charming, but magic shoes fit so much better.

I switched this chapter and next chapter's order because when editing I thought Tim needed a lighthearted chapter before a heavier one. The next chapter leans more on the hurt/comfort than the fluff, but there will still be hugs lol.

Thanks so much for continuing to read this story, and I hope you're enjoying Timmy's adventures. It means so much to me!

Chapter 4: Mommy's Little Business Transaction

Summary:

Tim really needs a hug this chapter.

Notes:

Prompt #3 - "Wait you love me? - "I always have"
Trigger warning: emotionally manipulative abusive behavior

The time is 2:37 AM.

Batman, Robin, and Nightwing are out keeping Gotham safe. Alfred is coordinating the team from the computer in the Batcave. Alfred is armed with a warm cup of tea, cradling the warm beverage in both hands to ward off the cold from Batman’s cavernous headquarters. He sips his favorite beverage and guides his family through a rather complicated warehouse map.

Way above the Batcave, on Wayne Manor’s second floor, is the youngest member of the family. Tim should be in bed, but a nightmare woke him up, and instead of going back to dreamland, he is doing critical research of his own.

Tim stares at the two hoodies in his closet. All of his clothes are either crammed in his dresser drawers or still in his suitcase. He doesn’t want to fully unpack until his permanent room is ready, but that’s mainly an excuse to be lazy and procrastinate away the chore of hanging up all of his clothing. The byproduct of that decision is an empty closet, except for the two magical hoodies.

Tim has a lot of theories about the hoodies, he’s filled five pages of his research notebook already. His number one theory is that the hoodies possess magical powers, but those powers aren’t infinite. That’s the reason that Dick’s blue hoodie and Jason’s red hoodie are both on hangers in the closet. Dick’s magical sneakers are also tucked away safely in the closet. Tim wants to give them all time to recharge. The only problem with that plan is that when Tim’s magical armor is left hanging in the closet, nightmares have a chance to visit.

Tim slowly closes the closet door, keeping the treasures hidden, and starts on the journey to Jason’s room. Tim’s guest room isn’t in the family wing of the manor, so it’s a bit of a walk to get to Jason’s room. When Tim finally reaches his destination, the bedroom door is open, so he slips inside the room and gets to work. He doesn’t want to turn on the light, so he pulls the curtain open a tiny bit to let a few rays of moonlight spill into the room.

He heads to Jason’s closet and gasps at the sight. There are so many hoodies inside the small closet, all different colors, all… unattended. Tim rubs his fingers on the sleeve of a black hoodie with a yellow lightning stripe design from the shoulder to the wrist. That one isn’t the best candidate for borrowing. Jason will definitely know if that one is missing.

Tim browses through the rack of hoodies with glee, but his happiness is interrupted by a buzzing from his pocket. He quickly takes out the buzzing phone (he brought it with him just in case) and looks at the glowing screen.

It’s not a phone call, it’s a text. It’s a text from his mom.

Tim grips the sleeve of a navy-blue hoodie in one hand, as his other hand opens the text.

My darling Timothy, I miss you so much. The house feels so empty without the little boy that I love so very much.

Tim almost drops the phone. He’s stuck on the thought of, ‘Wait – you love me?’

Tim’s mom has never said anything like that. Even when she praised him in the past, on extremely rare occasions, the praise was always backhanded compliments. Her nickname for him was Mommy’s Little Business Transaction.

Tim is so confused, but then he sees that he’s still holding onto Jason’s hoodie. It’s the magic!

Tim lets go of the sleeve so he can use both hands to type as quickly as he can.

You love me?

The response is almost instant.

I always have.

Tim’s eyes fill with tears. His mom loves him. She really loves him.

All this time he thought that he was just a means to an end. The conclusion of a business deal. He knew that his mom loved his kidney, but he wasn’t sure if she loved the rest of him. Tim’s role in the family was Kidney Donor and then Spleen Donor, and then maybe another organ that his parents had lined up for sale.

But now he knows that’s not true. He can’t stop smiling. He can’t stop reading the words.

I always have.

As he’s staring at the three words that mean almost more than I love you, three dots appear, and Tim waits for another message.

When the next message comes through, he wipes his eyes so that he can focus.

Don’t be silly, of course I do, but right now I need you to stop being selfish and drop this nonsense lawsuit. A child abuse case is very bad for Drake Industries, and you know how much the company means to me. Your father and I need you to stop playing games and tell Bruce Wayne that you want to come back home. You have put both of us through enough pain just because YOU wanted attention. All of this is getting very tiresome. Why must you always be so difficult, Timothy? I don’t know what I did to deserve a child like you instead of a normal one. I never wanted children, but we all must deal with the hand we are given. Now, tell Bruce that you want to live with us and end all of this unnecessary drama.

Tim stares at the message. All the joy he had from before is a distant memory. Janet is concerned about herself, Tim’s dad, even the company means more to her than he does. Tim will always be Janet’s last priority. Tim literally gave a kidney for his mom, but it still wasn’t enough. And now Tim knows that his mother never wanted him. Her words shouldn’t be a surprise to him. Deep down inside, a little part of him always knew.

He whispers to himself.

I knew. I always have.

He leans against the foot of Jason’s bed, hugs his face against his knees, and cries.

He’s not sure how long he cries, but it’s long enough for the Bat team to get back from patrol, because a shocked Jason has returned to his room and finds Tim crying on the floor.

“Timmy! What’s wrong? What happened?”

Tim keeps sobbing against his knees, but stretches out his hand so Jason can see his phone. He knows his mom would be mad if she knew he was showing someone else the message, but he doesn’t care. He just wants his brother to know, and to help him stop feeling so awful.

A few moments of silence follow before Jason calls Janet a string of words that definitely leave him owing a few dollars to the swear jar.

“I’ll be right back,” Jason says, and leaves Tim alone with his thoughts again.

Tim uses the alone time to wipe the tears from his face and try to pull himself together, but new tears keep replacing the old ones.

When Jason returns, he has Dick with him.

Jason sits at Tim’s side, and Dick sits crisscross across from him.

“Timmy,” Dick says gently. “I’m so sorry. Jason told me what happened. Bruce is on the phone right now with the lawyers sending copies of that text to them. You will never have to go back to that horrible woman ever again. I promise.”

Tim peeks up from over his knees. He feels really embarrassed about crying, but when he sees that Dick has tears in his eyes, he doesn’t feel as ashamed.

Tim’s eyes shift to Jason, and he whispers, “She doesn’t love me, does she?”

“Who cares what that evil stuck up bit –,” Jason takes a deep breath and tries again. “I can’t speak for her, but I think Janet Drake only loves herself. But that doesn’t matter, because me and Dick and Bruce and Alfie, we all love you more than a billion Janet Drakes could.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Tim scrunches his eyebrows to think about that. One billion is a huge number. It’s so much larger than the Drake fortune. Although, Tim can’t help but think that the scandal his mother blamed him for has lowered the Drake fortune substantially.

Tim looks back at Dick and bites his lip.

“I know that Mom will never feel the way I do about her, but I still want her to. Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” Dick says with a smile. “I know that it’s a weird comparison, but I love milkshakes, even though I know they don’t love me back. They literally destroy my stomach. Milk hates me, but I can’t stop hoping that one day milk will forgive me. Unfortunately, it’s still a no. It will probably always be a no. A very painful no.”

Tim nods. That makes sense.

Tim untucks himself from a tight ball and hugs Dick.

“Oh, thank god,” Dick sighs. “I wanted to give you a hug so bad, but I didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed. I was like two seconds away from hugging Jason just so that I wouldn’t explode.”

Dick wraps his octopus arms around Tim. It’s the best hug Tim has ever had.

“Love you, buddy,” Dick says.

“Love you too,” Tim says, hugging Dick tighter.

Jason hops on the bed, “Alright, who wants to play some videogames? It’s a school night, but Dad is totally gonna let us take off tomorrow.”

Dick laughs, still hugging his Timmy bear.

“I’ll convince B to let you two stay home from school, but only if you let me play as Superman.”

“Superman is way too overpowered,” Jason groans, “but I know a way to beat him.”

“Kryptonite?” Tim asks.

“Nope. When he gets close, hold down the R button and then spam A and B as fast as you can. Here, I’ll show you.”

Tim climbs onto the bed and leans on Dick’s shoulder as Jason mercilessly defeats Dick, over cries of, “No fair. You cheated!”

Notes:

Poor Timmy. Things get fun and fluffy again in the next chapter. I promise.

Chapter 5: A picture is worth a thousand words ( in this case 3,873 words)

Summary:

Dick has a fun filled day planned for Tim and Jason.

Notes:

Prompt #15 - Emergency, Confession, Adventure

Tim yawns into his fist, as he threads his other arm through the sleeve of his jacket. Dick called in sick for the boys, so Tim expected a relaxing day to follow. He didn’t expect Dick to wake him and Jason up before the crack of dawn, and ordered to come to the garage to help with an emergency. Dick insists that the emergency isn’t life or death, but it’s important. Tim is pretty sure that Dick’s “emergency” can one hundred percent wait until later in the morning.

The fact that Dick is taking his time zipping up his jacket is further evidence that the emergency isn’t as time sensitive as advertised.

Tim watches as Dick puts on a warm knitted hat. Tim squints his eyes, trying to judge if the hat would be too big on him. Maybe if he wore a hat or two underneath… but if it didn’t make contact with his hair would the magic take effect?

“Hey Baby Bird, you look like you’re trying to solve one of the Riddler’s puzzles,” Dick says, poking Tim on the nose. “Bruce makes the same face when he’s trying to crack a case. Maybe I should start calling you Little Bruce.”

Tim feels his cheeks heat up and his heart swells in his chest.

“I’d be honored if you call me that,” Tim says, breathlessly.

“Ugh,” Jason groans. “I think I threw up a little in my mouth. There are strict house rules about being a Batman fanboy. The first, and most important rule is that no one is allowed to admit that Batman’s their favorite hero. Dick’s favorite is Superman, and mine is Wonder Woman. Me and Dickie even got Alfie in on the plan, and he picked Green Lantern. Bruce always makes the sad boy face when we tell him he’s no one’s favorite. It’s the best. And before you get all pouty, and say we’re being mean, it’s his own fault. If he was really the World’s Greatest Detective, he’d know that we’re lying.”

Tim wants to argue, but the logic is pretty good. So, he uses the walk to the garage to think about who his favorite hero will be if it can’t include Batman, Nightwing, or Robin. Superman is great, but he probably shouldn’t overlap heroes with Dick. There are more than enough heroes for everyone to have a different one.

Tim is in the middle of weighing the pros and cons of being team Green Arrow vs Team Flash, when he notices someone leaning against Dick’s car. It takes a minute for Tim to register that Beast Boy is smiling back at him and waving.

Dick smiles, “You had a rough night, Timmy. You’ve been asking me about meeting my Titan friends, so I asked Gar if he could come over after patrol and hang out. There’s a really cool donut shop that we could swing by for some early breakfast.”

Tim tries to make words, but all he can manage is staring with his mouth hanging open, because Garfield Logan, aka Beast Boy, is actually in front of him.

“Hey,” Dick’s friend says, smiling wide enough to show the pointy teeth on the edge of his smile. “You’re Tim, right? Dick told me all about you. Do you want me to call you Tim or Timmy?”

Tim can’t squeak out more than a pitiful sounding, “Beast Boy.”

“Nope, little dude, Beast Boy is my name. It’s already taken.”

“T-Tim. My name is Tim, but Timmy is fine too,” Tim manages to spit out. Sadly, he keeps talking before his brain gets a chance to catch up. “I-It’s really nice to meet you, Mr. Beast Boy.”

Tim wants to ask if Beast Boy can transform into a dragon and breathe fire while Tim rides on his back pretending to be a dragon warrior on a quest to save Gotham, but before he gets a chance to blurt out that embarrassing request, Beast boy pats him on the back.

“My friends call me Gar.”

“WE’RE FRIENDS?!” Tim says in a voice that’s way too loud to be used indoors.

“Dick’s my best friend,” Gar says with a shrug. “And since you two are his little bros, that makes us automatically friends.”

“If we’re friends, is it okay if you turned into a giant fire breathing dragon and let me ride on your back over Gotham?”

“Totally! You wanna do it now? It’s still kinda dark, so if we swing past Gotham City, we can see the buildings all lit up. You wanna ride with us, Jason?”

“Hell yeah,” Jason shouts. “I gotta be there to make sure Tim doesn’t fall off when the daredevil lets go of you so he can use both hands to take a picture. Can you really breathe fire?”

Gar stretches out his arms and rolls up his sleeves. “Behold…”

“Wait,” Tim gasps, “I don’t have my camera. I’ll be back in a second. Don’t transform while I’m gone!”

Tim races up the stairs and barrels into his room. He pushes all the junk on his desk aside so he can get to his camera. Most of the clutter ends up on the floor, as Tim hangs the camera strap around his neck and makes a beeline for the garage.

When he gets back, Gar is still not-dragon shaped, but he looks slightly annoyed.

“Dick says it’s too dangerous to transform indoors. We gotta take this to your giant forest sized backyard.”

As they all head outside, Tim makes sure he’s walking next to Gar so he can ask questions.

“Is it really dangerous when you transform, and do I need to stand far away in case you sneeze and accidentally burn me to a crisp, because maybe you should turn into like a tiny palm-sized dragon and then grow like those toys from the supermarket that grow to one hundred times their size when you put them into water. Mom bought me a T-Rex grow toy, it was a T-rex like the one in the Bat Cave, have you ever been to the Batcave, because if you’ve never been there than you don’t know what I’m talking about, anyway, Mom bought me a dinosaur that was supposed to grow in water and I thought it was going to be huge like the Batcave dinosaur, but it wasn’t even the size of my hand when it was fully grown, and that’s so lame because even those dehydrated towels that you can buy from the dollar store get a lot bigger.”

“Whoa. You’re exactly like Dick described you,” Gar says.

“Is that a good thing?” Tim asks, biting his lip.

Gar answers with a wink, “It’s a great thing, buddy. And to kind of answer some of your questions, transforming isn’t dangerous. I never lose control of myself or forget who I am or where I am. Dick is just being dramatic and low-key jealous. He once told me that he wishes he had the superpower ability to transform. He said if he could transform, he’d want to be able to put on his Nightwing suit with a magical girl Sailor Moon transformation. The full spinning around while clothes magically appear on his body, while sparkles float around.”

Tim giggles as Dick yells, “That is so not true! You’re lying.”

Tim isn’t a master detective like Bruce yet, but even he can tell from the way Dick is blushing that Gar isn’t lying.

Jason puts a hand on his hip and holds up his fingers in a peace sign. “Sailor Nightwing fights for love and justice.”

Dick rolls his eyes and grumbles, “I hate you all. Just turn into a dragon already.”

Gar’s eyes glow yellow, and his pupils turn into vertical slits, initiating the transformation into a reptile. Tim stands mesmerized as the guy he was just talking to explodes into a mythical beast. Gar tilts his head back and a column of flames rips through the sky. Tim can feel the heat from the roaring flames. Dick moves in front of Tim, providing a barrier between the heat and Tim.

Tim isn’t sure if dragons have superhearing like dogs, or normal hearing like humans, so he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts to make sure Dragon-Gar can hear him.

“Can you do the flame thing again, please? I didn’t have my camera ready.”

Tim holds up his camera and the dragon unleashes a spiral of fire from his mouth, even more impressive in size as before.

Tim clicks the shutter button rapid-fire. He’s a pro at getting action shots from his experience with secretly chasing around his Bat-heroes at night. He knows the moment he gets the perfect shot, and squeals with excitement. He can’t wait to develop the pictures. His camera has settings for both digital photography and traditional, and he’s absolutely going to develop these pictures in Bruce’s photo developing dark room.

Speaking of Bruce, a very surprised man in a black bathrobe is walking toward the fire breathing dragon and friends.

Dick ushers Jason and Tim over to Gar. He lifts Tim in the air so it’s easier for Tim to climb onto the dragon’s back.

 When Tim and Jason are safely aboard Gar, Dick yells, “Fly, Gar. I’ll handle Bruce.”

“Alright,” Gar says. His voice is so deep, Tim can feel the sound shaking inside his chest. “Hang on you two.”

For a giant mythical beast, Gar moves fast. Tim doesn’t even have time to scream before he’s darting through the clouds. He squeezes his eyes shut. He’s starting to rethink this idea, but it’s too little too late for that.

The roaring wind is stealing Tim’s breath, as he shouts into the wind with no sound, but Jason is hooting and cheering enough for both him and Tim combined. The wind is too much, and the speed is too fast, and just when Tim thinks he’s about to pass out from fear, the thrill ride stops.

Tim opens his eyes. He’s still on the back of a dragon, high in the sky, but Gar isn’t flying at breakneck speeds, he’s flapping his wings, floating in place.

“Everyone alright?” Gar asks. “I stopped in case you wanted to take some pictures, Timmy. It’s a lot safer if I’m not moving when you do it.”

Tim has a vice grip on Gar, and doesn’t plan on loosening that grip until all four of Gar’s dragon feet are firmly back on solid ground, and not a second sooner.

“I-It’s too scary to let go.” Tim’s teeth are chattering.

“It’s all good, buddy. Just enjoy the view as we glide for a while, and then I’ll perch on something and you can take more dragon glamor shots from a cool roof top, like Wayne Enterprises, or something.”

The rest of the ride is terrifying, mainly because Jason requests flips and barrel rolls. Tim is extremely glad that this flight is before the trip to the donut shop because he’s pretty sure he’d be coughing up breakfast after the third barrel roll. If this is what grappling through Gotham feels like, Tim vastly underestimated that activity. When Dick returns to Bludhaven and Tim can go back to his gymnastics lessons, he’s going to be brave enough to backflip on the trampoline. Not brave enough to do it without Coach Dickie spotting him. Baby steps.

Jason must sense that Tim is ready to tap out because he says, “Hey, Gar, can you drop off Timmy on the building over there. He can get some pictures of you doing some really awesome things.”

“Sweet. I’ll drop him off and then we’ll do some cannonball death drop spirals.”

Tim doesn’t know what a cannonball death drop spiral is, but he knows that he wants to find that out from the safety of a rooftop.

It turns out that the moves Gar performs with only Jason as a passenger are scary enough that Tim’s hands are shaking, even from his safe rooftop vantagepoint. It’s a good thing his camera has really good internal stabilizers. It’s an upgrade to his equipment that Tim knew was necessary after his first photos of the Bat team were a blurry mess due to his hands trembling with adrenaline.

Eventually, Gar returns to Tim’s rooftop and leans down his head so Jason can climb off. Jason puts a fist over his mouth and belches, “I just need a minute and then I can get back on so we can go back home.”

“Take your time, Jay,” Gar says, laying down on the rooftop as well.

The way that the giant dragon is curled up is so beautiful. Tim lays on his stomach so that he can get the rising sun in the background. Everything is shadowed in black, except for the sliver of orange from the sun, peeking out from the horizon. The light casts a golden glow on Gar’s scaly back that’s better than any of the fancy filters Tim has on his editing software.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tim murmurs.

“I bet you say that to all the dragons,” Gar says with a snort.

___

 

Gar stays to hang out for the rest of the day, and it’s so much better than Tim imagined. Gar is happy to transform into any animal that Tim asks, and makes a bet that Tim or Jason can’t come up with an animal he can’t transform into. He’s laughing even harder than Tim and Jason as the boys try – and fail – to come up with an animal that Gar can’t turn into.

Eventually Dick interrupts the party and, sadly, Gar has to go back to Bludhaven. Dick promises his friend that the construction is almost done in his apartment, and he’ll be back to Nightwing duties in a few days. Tim tries not to think about Dick leaving. It’s been so nice having him here, and Bruce has been so happy.

Tim isn’t wearing one of his magical hoodies, but if he were, he’d wish that Dick could stay at Wayne Manor forever. The only good thing about Dick going back to Bludhaven is that Tim can start his gymnastics lessons up again. Well, it’s not the only good thing. It will be good for the citizens of Bludhaven to get their hero back, but that won’t make Tim miss Dick any less.

Tim gives Gar a hug goodbye, and turns his head so that no one sees him wipe away a tear.

“Okay, little bros,” Dick says, “The fun doesn’t stop here. Hop in the car. The adventure continues.”

Tim can’t imagine what could top a sunrise dragon ride, but when Dick pulls the car into the parking lot of the mega arcade at Amusement Mile, Tim can’t help but gasp. The amusement park is decorated with the spookiest Halloween decorations ever. It looks awesome!

“Alright, little dudes. Bruce got dragged into a mandatory WE meeting, and can’t join us, so it wouldn’t be fair to ride the rides, and do the Haunted Terror Walk without him and Alfie. That means we can come back and do all the carnival things another time. For now, we can stick to the arcade. Which one of you dweebs think you can beat me at Intergalactic Metroid Warriors?”

Tim and Jason shout, “Me!” as they chase Dick into the arcade.

Neither of them comes close to beating his high score.

After refueling with pizza, soda, and cotton candy, the brothers try to dethrone the current Intergalactic Metroid Warrior king, but Dick’s high score hasn’t been beaten by anyone in the arcade for years. Apparently, Dick is kind of a legend.

“Is that all you got, Jay? That’s pathetic,” Dick says as Jason’s character loses his last life and the game over music starts to play.

Jason scowls at Dick, “Shut up. I gotta take a leak, but when I come back, that top score is coming down.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Jaybird,” Dick says with a laugh.

Jason flips him off over his shoulder as he heads to the restrooms.

Dick reaches into his pocket and takes out his wallet. He flicks out Bruce’s borrowed platinum card and flashes a smile, “Let’s get more tokens so we can play some of the other games.”

Tim bounces on his toes as he follows Dick to the token machine. When Dick swipes the card and a cascade of tokens fall down, Tim smiles at how satisfying the sound is.

As Dick collects the tokens, a mysterious voice calls out, “Greetings.”

Tim turns to face the voice and takes a step closer to Dick when he sees who’s speaking. The voice is coming from the one and only Zoltar.

Zoltar is an animatronic fortune teller, sealed in a clear glass case. Zoltars are famous in amusement parks across the country. His puffy golden shirt, paisley vest, and golden turban with a red feather, are all trademarks of this mystical fortuneteller.

Zoltar’s eyes shift toward Tim and his hand waves over his glowing crystal ball.

“The great and all seeing Zoltar is here to share great wisdom with you, my friend. The more golden coins you share with me, the further I can look into the future. The more coins you share, the more wisdom I will bestow on you.”

Tim only realizes that he’s holding onto Dick’s sleeve for dear life when Dick takes a step forward and it awkwardly drags Tim forward too.

“Zoltar,” Dick says with a frown. “That thing is such a scam. We had one of those machines at the circus.”

“Maybe this one is different,” Tim says, maneuvering himself so Dick can shield him from Zoltar’s view.

“Nah, he’s – wait, Timmy. Are you scared?”

Tim shakes his head, and peeks from behind his Nightwing shield, and yup, Zoltar is still staring at him, as creepy as ever. The fortune teller’s handlebar mustache and goatee bounce as his mouth moves.

“Do not be afraid. Zoltar is all knowing. The visions in my crystal ball await you.”

“He knew I was afraid,” Tim whispers.

“No, he didn’t. It’s all pre-recorded. Afraid means scared, but afraid also means apprehensive to pay money to a stupid puppet that doesn’t actually tell the future. That’s how it works. He says overly generalized things and it makes it seem like his predictions are right. He can’t see you either. The thing has motion sensor abilities, so he speaks when he senses a person is standing close by. Here, I’ll show you.”

Dick leads Tim to the Zoltar machine.

“Greetings,” Zoltar says again.

“Yeah, yeah. My prediction is that I’m about to waste two tokens. Now let’s see what you predict, Zol.”

The two coins clink into the machine and the fortune teller hums.

“Ah yes. Everything is coming together quite clearly. Your future is clear to me. Have a look on the card and it will be crystal clear to you as well, my friend.”

Dick snatches the card that spits out and reads it out loud.

“You will be immediately called upon to be a hero.”

Instantly a woman yells from across the arcade, “Help!”

The woman in distress is next to a claw machine filled with stuffed toys. The machine is also filled with a toddler that Tim assumes is her son.

Dick sprints across the arcade to be a hero. Tim’s feet stay planted on the spot and he looks wide-eyed at Zoltar.

“You knew,” Tim says, filled with awe.

“Zoltar is all knowing,” the machine responds.

“Zoltar,” Tim says cautiously, “I have a confession to make. I’m not sure if you have real psychic powers. I’m sort of in the middle of a magical situation myself, so I don’t doubt that magical powers exist, but I also know that there’s a chance you might have a software installed that recognizes key words and responds to them.”

“The only way to unlock the secrets of the future is to ask. A mere handful of coins is quite the bargain to glimpse into the realms of the future.”

“Okay,” Tim says, as he gives the machine four tokens. Four is the max, and the instructions on the machine say that more tokens will give you a more detailed reading.

Zoltar’s mechanical hand waves over the crystal ball and Tim asks quickly, “Can you make your prediction specifically about the adoption? I want to know if Bruce Wayne is going to be able to adopt me, or if I’m going to have to live with Mom and Dad again. Can you please make it specific?”

“The cosmos is giving me all the information that I need. Your future is very bright, my friend.”

The card spits out, and Tim slowly reads the prediction.

The path toward your desires is not a quick one, but all will be well in the end.

“Thanks, Zoltar. I should probably go over and see if Dick got that kid out of the machine.”

“I predict we will see each other in the future,” Zoltar says.

Tim doesn’t waste a second more before racing away from the possibly enchanted mechanical fortune teller.

When he reaches the claw machine, Dick’s arm is shoved all the way into a back panel.

“Almost got it,” he grunts when he sees Tim. “The manager can’t find the keys, so I’m trying to reach the release hatch. I can feel my fingertips grazing it. My arm isn’t long enough. I might have to dislocate my shoulder to get it. This all could have been so much easier if Jay just agreed to crawl inside and get the little guy.”

“Shut up,” Jason says with a scowl, “I’m too big to crawl through the prize hole and you know it. Even Tiny Tim is too big to get in there. You can laugh all you want, but when Tim and I grow up and we’re both taller than you, we’ll get the last laugh.”

Tim is fairly sure he’ll be a short king forever, but maybe Jason has a chance.

Dick’s shoulder makes a popping sound right before the claw machine makes a mechanical unlocking sound, and the whole front glass panel of the machine releases forward. One of the arcade workers scoops up the crying toddler, and in the commotion, Tim takes a stuffed bear when no one is looking.

Both the mother and the baby are crying, and she’s rambling on about only turning her back for a second. Tim takes another stuffed bear as everyone is still focusing on the crying toddler and the mother.

Dick tells the woman he’s first aid certified, and asks if he can check her baby for injuries. Tim really wants to go in for a third bear, but he doesn’t want to push his luck.

“Hey, Timmy,” Jason says, “I’m pretty sure the kid is the only one that needed rescuing. The bears live in the machine, Timothy. Or should I star calling you Tim-o-thief?”

Tim pouts as he puts the bears back into the machine.

“No fair,” he pouts, and then whispers, “You’re a thief too. You stole the Batmobile’s tires.”

“Yup.” Jason puts his arm around Tim’s shoulders and sighs, “Didn’t get to keep them either.”

Notes:

This was only supposed to be the dragon ride, but when I re-read it, I realized I didn't have anything for the confession part of the prompt and added the arcade adventure. When I was a kid, there was a Zoltar machine at the arcade in the mall. He's gone now. He will not be missed. It always freaked me out when he called me my friend.

The idea that Dick wants to have a magical girl transformation every time he puts on his Nightwing suit is a head canon that lives rent free in my brain :)

Thanks again for reading and for all the awesome comments!

Chapter 6: Cakes aren't just for birthdays

Summary:

Karate lessons and birthday cake magic... but first, Tim really needs to get rid of a certain navy blue hoodie that may or may not have bad magic.

Notes:

Prompt 11 - Sweet Tooth

Tim grunts as he pushes a shovel against the small hole he’s working on in the backyard. His original plan was to dig six feet down, but his arms are already shaking with exhaustion. Plus, he knows that he needs to fill the dirt back into the hole once he’s done, so he needs to save some energy for that. Alfred will not be pleased if he comes outside to water the roses and finds a giant hole in the backyard.

Tim tosses the shovel aside and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. Digging holes is much harder than Tim had originally thought.

After a quick break for a breather, Tim picks up Jason’s navy blue hoodie and tosses it into the shallow hole. He claps his hands together to knock off all the dirt, and frowns at the rogue hoodie.

“Look, it’s nothing personal,” Tim says to the hoodie in the shallow grave. “But you were the hoodie that I was touching during those horrible texts from Mom, and I know that I haven’t proven if hoodies and other clothing are magical, but I haven’t unproven it either, and I can’t risk keeping you in the house if you have bad magic, so you’re going to stay here, buried, until I can work this all out. If Wayne magic is real, and you’re filled with bad magic, I’ll work with Batman to find a way to reverse it. I won’t leave you here forever, I promise. This is just a time out. I’d give you a hug, but as we have already discussed, you might have bad magic.”

Tim follows up his apology by burying the navy blue misfit.

Covering the hole is much easier than digging the hole, and goes much quicker. The burial spot is right next to Alfred’s rose garden, so once Tim smooths over the last bit of soil, the hole is completely covered. No one will ever know a hoodie is buried there.

Tim points the shovel at the burial spot.

“I better not come out here and find out that you’re using bad magic on the roses. Try to play nicely, please.”

“Timmy?”

Oh no. That’s Jason’s voice. Tim hides the shovel behind a rosebush and puts on the most innocent face he can.

“Hi Jay. I’m over here. I was just looking at the roses. Aren’t they pretty? Did you know that roses are one of the oldest flowers on the planet? Dad once told me that he went to an excavation site that was world famous for finding the oldest rose fossil ever. The fossil was more than thirty-five million years old. Dad promised to take me with them to the site the next time him and Mom went back, but I knew he was lying. They never take me with them to their cool dinosaur digs.”

Jason tilts his head. “That’s cuz your parents suck. Do you wanna be an archeologist like them when you grow up?”

“I don’t know,” Tim says rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. “Archeologists dig up artifacts like Mom and Dad do, and Paleontologists dig up fossils like dinosaurs and ancient flowers, which is so much cooler, but I want to help you and Batman, so I don’t know. If I do become a Paleontologist and I own a huge museum to store and display all my discoveries, I won’t have to worry about security because Batman and Robin will stop any thief that tries to rob my museum. Dinosaur bones are worth a lot of money on the black market.”

“It’s a good thing you’ve got superhero friends, Timmers. Now if we can focus on the present instead of the future, you need to stop smelling roses and come with me. If we run to the car, we might make it on time to Karate class.”

“You’re the teacher, Jay. They can’t start without you, right?”

Tim can’t quite catch what Jason is saying, but he runs as fast as he can to keep up with his brother’s superhero speed.

 

_____     

    

Tim barely ducks out of the way as a fist comes straight at his face. He knows that he shouldn’t be thinking about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches during a fistfight, but the delicious sandwiches that Alfred made for the family this morning keep gravitating toward the front of his mind.

“Focus, Timmy,” Jason yells, as he throws another punch. “Pretend that you’re Batman and you’re fighting Two Face.”

Tim immediately clears his head of sandwiches, but Jason’s focusing exercise doesn’t help. For one, Tim’s focusing exercises usually involve him grounding himself back to the present, not imagining that he’s someone else or somewhere else, but also, Tim being Batman opens up so many questions. Did Robin, Nightwing, and Batman all die and leave the mantle to him, or are they lost in space and time, and Tim has to rescue them? Did Tim have prior training before becoming the substitute Dark Knight? Is he still a child and he’s fighting in a child sized Batsuit or is this a post-apocalyptic future and Tim Drake is a twenty-one-year-old man? Is Tim the leader of the Justice League?

“Tim,” Jason shouts, kicking him on the shin. “Focus. You’re losing the fight. Do you want to stay a white belt forever?”

That’s right. Tim is fighting against Sensei Jason, and he’s at karate lessons. Jason hates to be called Sensei Jason, but Tim insists on being professional at the karate dojo, but now that Tim thinks about it, Dick doesn’t mind when Tim calls him Coach Dickie during gymnastics class, in fact, Dick always gets red-faced and smiley when Tim does it, so Jason just needs to get over himself. If Tim wants to use the appropriate title when addressing Ja –

A swift kick knocks Tim back, and knocks the wind out of him. It’s not hard enough to hurt, it’s only meant to snap Tim back to the present. It’s such a Robin thing to do, which makes it harder if Jason expects Tim to role-play that his opponent is Two Face.

Okay. It’s time for Tim to focus for real. This is his only shot to prove to the dojo owner that Tim can advance to the next level. Tim likes to call the owner Super Sensei. Tim doesn’t have to win against Jason, he just has to put up a good fight, and Super Sensei will let him take the test for the next color belt.

Tim takes a deep breath and points at Jason and wiggles his fingers in a bring it on motion. They do that all the time in Tim’s favorite martial arts movies. Jason laughs as he races toward Tim, primed to attack.

The first two punches are easy to block. Tim sidesteps the third punch and he’s in the perfect position to grab Jason by the collar and sweep his leg, but Tim trips over his own feet and stumbles to his knees, missing the golden opportunity. There’s an immediate feeling of dread that comes over Tim. He had touched the navy blue hoodie before burying it. What if some of the bad magic transferred to him during that momentary touch?

Jason keeps his fists up and takes a step back, bouncing on his toes like a boxer. He whispers under his breath, just loud enough for only him and Tim to hear, “You’ve got this. Keep a clear head and visualize the win.”

Tim recognizes Batman’s words coming out of Jason’s mouth. Tim hasn’t been staying in Wayne Manor for long, but in that short time he’s watched Batman and Robin spar so many times. Robin hates to lose in front of Tim, and gets frustrated easily, so Batman has given Jason numerous lectures on keeping a level head and not throwing punches wildly out of anger or frustration.

Tim picks himself off the wooden floor and nods that he’s alright and still ready to fight. Jason nods back and charges at him again, but this time Tim can’t afford to make a mistake.

Jason throws the same combination of punches as before, but this time Tim blocks the first one and ducks under the second one. The move throws Jason off balance, and as Jason checks his balance so he doesn’t fall on top of Tim and face plant, Tim does a quick backward roll, and pushes himself into a backflip (two moves he learned in Dick’s gymnastics class). The moves are a little bit much for a level 1 sparring qualification test, but the other students and Super Sensei make loud sounds of approval. Tim is inspired to give his small audience a show and decides that now might be a good time to go on the attack. He charges toward Jason – which causes some woots and claps – and Jason takes a shocked step back before Tim grabs him by the collar and sweeps his leg out from under him.

Robin can easily rebound, or even avoid this surprise takedown, but Jason’s not in his suit so he doesn’t resist being tripped and pinned to the floor. Jason hits the floor hard, landing with a painful grunt. In all the excitement, Tim forgot to help guide him to the floor.

“Whoops,” Tim says, covering his mouth with his hands and kneeling next to Jason. “Are you okay?”

Jason nods, the wind must still be knocked out of him, but the student spectators all cheer and gather around Tim, oblivious to Jason laying like roadkill on the dojo floor.

Super Sensei holds his hand up to high-five Tim while smiling.

“Congratulations Tim. You just qualified for your yellow belt test.”

Jason offers a thumbs up, from the floor, for Tim’s achievement, still trying to catch his breath. Tim tries to go over to Jason, but the crowd of students closes in around him. All of them are begging Tim to teach them how to do the awesome backflip trick.

 

___

 

“Dad,” Jason says from the backseat of the Range Rover. “You shoulda saw Timmy. He got the drop on me like a pro. He pulled a Bat move. I thought I was fighting Nightwing. Sensei Carlos should totally let Timmy skip right to blue belt, or even green belt. The kid did a backflip.”

Tim squeezes the icepack that Jason should be applying to his own shoulder.

“It wasn’t that impressive,” Tim mumbles, while pressing the icepack against Jason’s bruised shoulder. “You were pulling your punches, and you didn’t tell Bruce about the part where I tripped over my own feet. If you were fighting like Robin, you would have easily won. I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“A win is a win, Timbo. And don’t worry about my shoulder. It wouldn’t be karate class if one of us didn’t need some kind of medical attention at the end. It’s become our tradition. The important thing is that you qualified for the test. My shoulder’s fine. It’ll be back to normal in, like, an hour. I can pop my shoulder in and out of the socket just like Dick can. Wanna see?”

Bruce clears his throat from the driver’s seat.

“No one will be popping their shoulders out of the socket.”

“Boo. That was such a dad thing to say, Bruce.”

Bruce answers by turning on the radio. An already in progress podcast about water buffalo comes on and Bruce hums in approval.

“So freakin’ weird, and can you chill with the ice?” Jason grumbles, taking the ice pack from Tim’s hand and setting it on the seat.

Tim wants so badly to share all the facts he knows about water buffalo migration, but he bites his lip because now doesn’t seem like the right time. He’s not sure when the right time would be to share his vast knowledge about random animal facts, but now probably isn’t it.

The car falls into awkward silence – well, not complete silence, the narrator of the podcast is droning on about water buffalo having the biological equivalent of GPS. The man also pronounces the word buffalo as boofalo, and Tim is starting to like that pronunciation better.

“Dad,” Jason says out of nowhere. “We should get Timmy a cake or something.”

“It’s not my birthday,” Tim says, completely confused why he deserves a cake.

“You qualified for your karate test. I think that’s cake worthy.”

“I don’t – ,” Tim starts to say, but he’s cut off when Bruce hits the brakes. If he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, he probably would have ended up tumbling into the front passenger seat.

Bruce seems oblivious to that fact and turns to face the boys.

“That’s a great idea, Jaylad. The bakery’s right there. We can pick something up.”

The bakery smells delicious and as much as Tim knows he doesn’t deserve a cake, his sweet tooth is preventing him from protesting the idea too vocally.

The bakery has a few ready-made cakes and Tim points to the chocolate devil’s food cake, with the chocolate frosting. As the baker boxes up the cake, Tim mumbles, “I wasn’t expecting a cake until my sixteenth birthday.”

“You’re ten, little dude. Why would you have to wait that long?” Jason asks, shocked.

“You don’t just get a cake for every birthday, Jason. You only get one for the special ones. Ten was special, Mom said it was, but they forgot to get me a cake, and when I brought it up…” Tim ends the sentence with a shrug because he doesn’t want to get into how his dad yelled at him and sent him to bed with no dinner. It was also two months after his birthday because his parents were away on business for his actual birthday.

“What? That’s bullshit. When I lived in Crime Alley, me and Mom were literally broke, and she still gave me a cupcake with a candle on it on my birthday, every year. Birthdays are special. It's not fair. Why did you have to get stuck with such messed up parents?”

Jason ends his rant by holding his hands out to give Tim a hug. Tim leans into the hug and watches the baker tie up the cake box with red and white striped string.

Tim switches from hugging Jason to hugging the cake box for the entire ride home. The ride home is nice and smooth because Tim makes sure to ask Bruce to drive normally since the cake is fragile.

Toward the end of the car ride, Tim wonders if he should sing along when everyone sings happy birthday. He doesn’t have prior experience with birthday parties to know if singing along is expected, or if everyone is going to look at him funny.

Tim licks his lips in anticipation as he carries the cake to the front door, but right as they get to the door, Bruce’s watch alarm goes off.

“That’s Gordon,” he says, shifting into the Batman voice, “There’s an emergency at the docks. I’m sorry Timmy. The cake is going to have to wait.”

Jason and Bruce race through the door and it takes a minute for Tim to process what’s happening. By the time he does, he’s holding the cake in his hands, standing in front of the open doorway.

He sighs as he walks the cake inside, and delivers it to its temporary refrigerator home. Alfred isn’t in the kitchen so he’s most likely in the Bat Cave, directing Batman and Robin on comms.

Tim drags his feet as he heads to his guest room.

When he reaches his room, he flops down on the bed and decides to watch some TV, so he doesn’t have to think about how his new temporary family promised him cake and a party, and just like every other time he thought he’d be celebrating, he’s alone in his room watching cartoons. At least saving the citizens of Gotham is a more noble excuse than “I missed your birthday? I must have lost track of the time, Champ.”

Or,

“Darling, your father and I will make it up to you next year.”

Or Tim’s least favorite,

“Are you sure that your birthday is in July? Has it always been in July, Kiddo?”

Saving the world is a much better excuse, but it still makes Tim’s stomach do flip flops. Wait, maybe he’s just hungry.

He drags himself downstairs and heads to the kitchen. He opens the fridge and bites his lip as he sees the cakebox sitting inside. A whimper slips out as his hand brushes past the box. He’s almost positive the cake will somehow get pushed to the back of the fridge by the morning, and then quickly forgotten. It’s not like Jason and Bruce actually wanted to give Tim a party and a cake. They were just probably trying to be polite and went a little overboard. Tim makes a mental note: Never mention the cake or party again to prevent future awkwardness.

Tim slides out a plastic container of leftover lasagna and scoops it on a plate. He places it in the microwave and sets the timer to three minutes. He watches the pasta rotate as the dull buzz of the microwave makes his eyelids start to feel heavy.

He blinks lazily a few times. He yawns and closes his eyes, unable to resist the lullaby of the microwave.

When he opens his eyes, it feels like a second later, but he’s in a new location, so he knows that time has passed. He’s still in the kitchen, but now he’s laying down at the breakfast nook, with a heavy yellow blanket draped over him.

Wait a second. It’s not a yellow blanket, it’s Robin’s yellow cape!

Tim jerks up to a seated position, and gasps. Jason’s tongue is out, as he’s concentrating on lighting the final candle on Tim’s birthday cake.

Tim swallows back another gasp, and lays back down, pretending to be asleep, but Jason’s voice travels across the room.

“I know you’re awake Timmy. I can hear you from over here. Now get your butt over here before Dickie and his sweet tooth eats all the cake before I finish lighting the candles.”

“I don’t have a sweet tooth,” Dick says, crunching on a handful of sugar-coated cereal. “Why are we having a cake?”

“Seriously, dude? For the last time, this was supposed to be for Tim doing well in karate class, but his parents suck, so it’s the tenth birthday cake that Timmy totally deserved. Now do something useful and help Alfie set the table.”

Tim arranges the yellow cape, so that it’s hooked around his neck, and practically floats over to the counter with the cake.

Tim looks up at Bruce – who hasn’t been given a task, and is just leaning against the counter watching. Tim waits until Bruce meets his eyes before whispering, “Aren’t you tired after patrol? You don’t have to do all of this for me.”

“Timmy,” Bruce says, softly. The sound makes Tim’s heart flutter, and he feels warmer than the candles on the cake. “We’re all more than happy to celebrate you, buddy. I would have preferred to do it before patrol if that emergency hadn’t have come up, but when Jason found you asleep, curled up on the floor next to the microwave, he insisted that we do it tonight. We tried not to wake you until the cake was fully prepared. I hope it’s still a nice surprise.”

Tim nods as everyone gathers around the cake. Jason hands Tim a party hat, and Tim has no idea where he pulled the stack of those from.

He pulls the rubber band under his chin and closes his eyes and makes a wish.

Wayne Manor may have magical hoodies, but nothing beats the magical power of blowing out birthday cake candles. Especially, when Tim has the added bonus of blowing out the candles with Robin’s cape wrapped around his shoulders.

Notes:

Birthday magic!

Chapter 7: Batman has an announcement

Summary:

Bruce has a major announcement that's even more exciting than magical hoodies!

Notes:

Happy Halloween! This story takes place during October, but unfortunately the chapter I'm posting on Halloween has the least Halloween vibes. It has a lot of fluff, so I'll just say it is more treat than trick. Okay, I'm done. I promise lol. Enjoy the story.

Prompt 29 - "Hey, wake up!"

Tim moves his head and tries to bury himself even further into his pillow, but, in reality, the fluffy pillow is the hard Batcomputer keyboard, so it’s hard to get comfortable. There’s a blanket over him, so someone must have taken mercy on him and spread the blanket across his back.

He sighs and hunches his shoulders so that the blanket scoots up a little higher over his neck, but his movements are spotted.

“Hey B,” Jason says from somewhere behind Tim. “The little guy’s awake.”

This is the second time in two days that Jason has caught Tim pretending to sleep. He really needs to start his Bat training if he wants to get better at that trick. In Tim’s defense, he’s been asking Batman to train him, but keeps getting told that he’s too young, which is weird because Dick started when he was eight years old, so that can’t be the reason. The only other reason he can think of is that he isn’t officially part of the family yet. It’s not certain if the adoption will go through. For parents that never wanted Tim, Jack and Janet are putting up an extremely hard fight to keep custody of him.

Tim yawns and sits up in the chair. “Were you just watching me sleep, Jason? That’s kind of creepy.”

“Nu uh. Don’t make me sound like I’m the weirdo when you’re the one using the Batcomputer like a bed. Why are you even down here in the cave? Last night you fell asleep in front of the microwave and now you’re asleep in the cave. Is there something wrong with your bedroom? When me and B got home from patrol, the last thing I was expecting was to find Sleeping Timmy snoring on the Bat-keyboard. You were mumbling something in your sleep, and your fingers were typing even though the computer’s off. You kept saying that you needed to finish the mission. B said that you were sleepwalking and that it’s dangerous to wake a sleepwalker, so he put a blanket on your shoulders, and you instantly conked out on the keyboard. I was gonna toss you over my shoulder and haul you upstairs if you didn’t wake up by the time B and I finished getting changed.”

Tim rubs his eyes and shakes his head. Jason has a point about sleeping in a bed. Tim’s neck feels a little stiff.

Now that Tim is a little more awake, and his vision is clearer, he notices Jason’s hair is wet and he’s wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, so he must have just gotten out of the shower. Batman and Nightwing aren’t around, so they must still be in the locker room, changing back into civilian clothes.

Tonight’s patrol was Nightwing’s last mission with the Bat team. He’s going to head back to Bludhaven now that the fumigation in his apartment building is over – which Tim really can’t think about without his eyes welling up with tears, so he focuses on going back to sleep. If Batman is still in the shower that means Tim can get a few more minutes of sleep, so he lays back down and tries to do just that.

“Hey. Wake up!” Jason says. “If you keep drooling on the keyboard, you’re gonna get electrocuted.”

Tim waves his arms to struggle free as Jason tries to keep him from laying back down.

“Stop struggling, Timmy. I’m trying to save you from burning into a crisp.”

“That’s not how keyboards work,” Tim argues back, but a third Bat joins the conversation.

“Did someone say something about electricity?” Dick asks, flashing his million-dollar smile. “Because electricity happens to be my specialty. Just ask my two best friends, Escrima stick 1 and Escrima stick 2.”

Tim gives up struggling and curls up against the back of the swiveling Bat-chair. Jason drapes the blanket back over him and sits on the arm of the chair. He nudges his head toward Tim.

“Can you carry Sleepyhead back to his room? Be careful though, he’s a little grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Tim says, and follows the statement by sticking out his tongue.

Dick leans against the Bat-desk.

“I can’t,” he says. “Bruce told me that he needs to talk to the three of us about something important. He said it’s Bat related, but he said he wanted Timmy to be there for the announcement.”

Tim sits up straight in the swivel chair. His mind starts to race. He’s never been allowed to stay for a Bat-meeting. What could this mean?

Dick busies himself with checking his emails on the Bat-computer, and Jason puts one leg on the floor so that he can still sit on the arm of Tim’s chair, and also swivel the chair back and forth as he zones out, thinking about patrol, maybe?

Tim uses this time to slowly spiral into madness.

When Bruce eventually emerges, he’s wearing a white t-shirt, black sweatpants, and sadly no hoodie. Tim is starting to think Bruce doesn’t own any hoodies, but maybe he has a magical peacoat or something. Tim has seen him wear a peacoat, but there’s no way he can get away with stealing a whole coat without Bruce noticing.

Tim holds his breath as he studies Bruce’s face. The man has tired written all over his face, but there’s still a Batman level of authority there that makes Tim sit up at attention. Jason continues to rock the chair after a quick nod to acknowledge Bruce’s presence. Dick doesn’t bother to look away from his emails.

Bruce clears his throat and Dick begrudgingly turns around.

“Thank you for your undivided attention, boys,” Bruce deadpans. “Anyway, I have made a decision. Tim, you have been asking to be part of the team for a while, and I think it is about time I give you a chance.”

Tim feels Jason tense next to him, and the swiveling of the chair jerks to a sudden stop. Tim’s heart stops right along with the chair. His thoughts are racing.

Does this mean Batman is going to train me? What. Is. Happening?!

Bruce produces a folder from behind his back and smiles.

“This is a case file, Timmy. I want you to investigate it all by yourself. You can ask me for help at any time of course, and Babs has agreed to help with any digital or cyber research that you need. She’s looking forward to collaborating with the person she’s dubbed, ‘the most adorable detective at Wayne Manor.’”

“Hey,” Dick says, but ruffles Tim’s hair and then shrugs, “Yeah, I guess that’s fair.”

“As I was saying,” Bruce says with an eyeroll, “you are in charge of this entire investigation, Tim. When you get to the point that you need to visit a location, Robin, or I can take you there. If the location is dangerous, you are to assign the team that you would like to stake out the area. That team can include any combination of me, Robin, and Nightwing – if Nightwing is available at that time. You must use your judgement to determine what would be appropriate. As I said before, I’m here for anything that you need, but I’d like you to do as much as you can on your own. This is your case, Timmy.”

Bruce passes the folder over to Tim, and the trembling boy hugs it against his chest. His chin starts to wobble as he whispers, “Batman…”

“This is a lot of responsibility, Timmy, but I know you can do it. I believe in you.”

Tim hugs the folder tighter and looks up at Bruce. Tim blinks at the man, his eyes clouding with tears.

“Am I still dreaming? If I am, I don’t ever want to wake up, Batman.”

Tim’s shoulders start to shake, as tears roll down his cheeks.

Bruce smiles and squats down so that he can be eye-level with Tim. Batman’s official voice turns into the dad-voice that Tim loves so much.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Bruce says, wiping away some of Tim’s tears with his thumb. “You’re not ready for the physical part of what we do, and if you’re never ready, that’s perfectly okay too. I know you’re ready for this part. Your brain is working on overdrive all the time, just like mine.” Bruce pokes the side of Tim’s head to emphasize the point and Tim giggles.

“Dude,” Jason yells, “This is gonna be the best mission ever! I can’t wait to kick butt when Timmy’s in charge.”

All the sounds around Tim turn into buzzing, as his heartbeat drowns out all other sounds. He pinches himself to make sure that he isn’t dreaming.

Jason herds Tim toward the cave’s staircase, and Tim is somewhat aware that he’s being guided to his room. He hugs the case folder close to his chest and even though he knows the final destination is his bedroom, there’s no way he’s getting any sleep tonight.

 

_____

 

Staying awake all night turns out to be a bad decision. Tim can barely keep his eyes awake at school.

He nods off a few times, but each time it’s only for a few seconds, so he’s lucky enough not to get caught by his teacher. It’s either luck, or some of his family’s Bat-stealth is contagious.

In-between paying attention to his teacher and drifting off to sleep, he finds himself thinking about the case Batman gave him. The case involves a low-level crime circuit that is illegally smuggling baby turtles into the country and selling them to a local pet store.

Tim is in the middle of doodling a sea turtle on the cover of his science notebook, when the teacher announces a pop quiz. The quiz is on the reading that was assigned last night – the reading that Tim forgot to do even though he was awake all night – but he knows he’s going to ace the test. The classroom is cold, and Tim is wearing Jason’s hoodie for extra warmth, and the magical hoodie does its job. There’s no way he can fail Jason’s favorite subject when he’s armed with his hoodie.

Tim will have to run another experiment with Dick’s hoodie when he gets home. Dick was on the Math team when he was in school, and Tim can definitely use the extra math help.

When the school day finally ends, Tim packs up his books and heads to the parking lot. The tension in his shoulders relaxes when he sees a familiar black car in the parking lot, but when he pulls the passenger door open, Bruce is smiling at him from behind the wheel.

Tim bites his lip.

“Is something wrong with Alfie?” he asks.

“Not at all. I offered to pick you up so we could talk about your new case. We’ll have to stop by the grocery store and pick up some things on Alfed’s list. I hope you don’t mind.”

Tim hops into the car and is practically beaming with happiness.

“I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about it,” Tim blurts out, while clicking on his seatbelt.

Bruce laughs, “I couldn’t either, buddy.”

“Really?! This is so exciting. Okay, so I have a few questions and a ton of suggestions. I think…”

Tim chatters away about the case all the way to the supermarket.

Bruce pulls into the parking lot and points to the glove compartment.

“I have a few Bat-gadgets in there that you might like. I like to keep a few gadgets in my civilian car, and if the cops stop me, I figure I’d tell them that Wayne Tech supplies Batman with some of his weapons and I must have left a few of the prototypes in my car.”

Tim nods, because it’s not surprising that Batman has a contingency plan for literally every situation, but Timmy’s attention is focused more on all the Bat toys. Bruce looks away so that he can back into a parking space that’s a little challenging to maneuver into, due to the size of Bruce’s Range Rover, and Tim picks up a bat-a-rang and squeals.

“Sorry,” he says with a blush, but Bruce just chuckles, and Tim doesn’t feel embarrassed anymore. “Are all of these for me? Can I take them?”

Tim looks at the Bat-toys. He sees a bat-a-rang, a lockpick set, blinking trackers, a smoke bomb (awesome!), and pepper spray. There’s even shark repellant in there.

“These stay in the car. I can go over what each of them are, and what they do, and you can raid the supply closet when we get home. For now, we need to focus on Alfred’s grocery list. I’m not very good at grocery shopping and I want to get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

Tim hops out of the car and he’s bouncing on his feet as they walk to the front door.

“How can you be bad at food shopping?”

“I don’t follow the list, and I start buying things that look good. That’s the number one reason that you should never go to the supermarket when you’re hungry,” Bruce says, ruffling Tim’s hair.

“You’re hungry?”

“Starving, and I left all my candy bars in my utility belt.”

Tim giggles as the two shoppers walk through the automatic door.

 

Bruce wasn’t lying about being terrible at shopping. He keeps adding things to the shopping cart and crossing off items on the list before Tim actually puts them into the cart, causing the two to have to double back to the frozen food aisle.

The frozen food aisle is freezing and there’s one more thing on the list after all the frozen foods are collected, so Tim says, through chattering teeth, “I’m going to get the cereal. You can meet me there in aisle five when you’re done.”

Bruce grunts in the affirmative as he stretches to reach for the coldest frozen pizza box, all the way in the back. The blast of cold air makes Tim shiver, as he gives the last of the instructions.

“After you get three pizzas, get the last two things on the list: pistachio ice cream and a bag of frozen corn on the cob. I circled them. Don’t get anything else. Okay?”

Bruce grunts again, half of his body is wedged inside of the frozen food freezer, his huge bicep straining to reach the frozen pizza box. It reminds Tim of when Dick was reaching into the back of the claw machine at the arcade.

Tim leaves Bruce to the task, and heads to the cereal aisle. The supermarket is in the safest area of Gotham, so he’s not scared to separate from Bruce.

He starts to daydream about rescuing sea turtles and magical hoodies. Tim’s life is full of so many awesome things!

He’s literally vibrating with joy when he reaches for the cereal box on the shelf. The last thing he expects is the high-pitched bark of a tiny dog behind him. Tim whirls around, and the cutest, fluffiest, golden-haired Pomeranian puppy is sitting in the front section of a shopping basket. The puppy has a pink bow on her head and is groomed so immaculately that she looks like she stepped out of a professional dog show.

The puppy is bouncing in the shopping cart almost as much as Tim is bouncing on his toes when he sees the cutie.

“Hi,” he waves, because it’s rude to go up to a dog that doesn’t know you and start petting them. Tim wouldn’t want some random person to come over to him and start petting him without permission.

“Timothy Jackson Drake.”

Tim freezes. He hasn’t heard his mom’s voice in a while, so it sounds weird, but still very much recognizable.

“Timothy, darling,” his mother drawls, “What a lovely surprise.”

“Hi, Mom. You’re shopping for groceries?”

“Seriously, Timothy? What else would I be doing at the supermarket? If you took more time to think before you speak, you wouldn’t ask such silly questions.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Tim mutters.

Janet’s mouth turns down into her typical frown, but the frown disappears as she looks at something – or someone – behind Tim’s back.

Whoever is behind Tim steps right up to him and ghosts a hand over his shoulder, not forcing physical contact, but inviting it if Tim wants it.

Even if Tim didn’t recognize Bruce’s cologne, he still would have known it was Bruce. He still would have backed up enough to lean against his side and let Bruce put an arm around his shoulder in a protective side hug.

Janet smiles, but Tim can tell it’s fake. He’s pretty sure Bruce can tell it’s fake too.

“Bruce Wayne,” she says as the fake smile grows wider. “I never would have expected to see you shopping for your own groceries. This place is absolutely dreadful. The only reason I’m here is because the housekeeper chose the worst time to get the flu, and I can’t go another day without my prescription vitamins. I have a prescription for the same antiaging vitamins that all the celebrities use. That is why I have the youthful glow of an eighteen-year-old.”

Bruce snorts, but Janet continues.

“I’m so happy to see you, Timothy, darling. Have you met Princess? She’s the newest addition to the Drake family. She’s the perfect puppy. I was so happy to get her. She’s been trained as an emotional support dog, so she can come with me on all my business trips. Those long flights overseas make me so anxious. It will be positively amazing to have Princess on my lap, keeping me calm.”

“You – you never took me on any business trips,” Tim says softly.

“Oh honey, Princess knows how to act on a plane. If your father and I ever took you with us, it would be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“We’re done here,” Bruce says, but Tim shakes his head.

“Mom, can I pet Princess? She looks so fluffy.”

“Of course, Timothy.”

Janet holds out a hand, and Tim takes it, letting her lead him to the basket.

Princess barks happily as Tim pets her fur. She’s so fluffy! He giggles when the ball of fur licks his hand. He giggles even harder when she climbs out of the basket and onto his shoulder. Tim rearranges his arms so that she’s supported on his shoulder, and she presses her head against his neck. The cuddle instantly calms all of the quivering going on inside Tim’s chest and stomach. He softly pets her fur and feels his heart rate slow down to match hers.

“Thanks, Princess,” he whispers next to her ear.

“Timothy,” Janet says, spiking Tim’s anxiety back to a ten. Princess whines in response. “Princess will be coming with me on all flights, but if you were to come back home to live with your father and I, I’m sure the puppy would be much happier staying in the manor with you. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve asked your father and I for a puppy. Endlessly whining about it.”

Tim gives Princess a hug and places her back into the basket.

“Bye, Mom. I have to finish shopping. It was nice meeting Princess.”

Bruce gets the message, and shuttles Tim away as Janet is left sputtering.

Tim is silent at the checkout line, and silent as they head to the car.

When Bruce closes the car door, he mumbles, “That woman shouldn’t be allowed to take care of a houseplant let alone a dog. Tim are you –”

“I put a tracker on the inside of Princess’ collar when I was holding her. It was one of the trackers from the glove compartment,” Tim says, smiling triumphantly. Tim uses Bruce’s stunned silence to continue. “Mom and Dad don’t know how to take care of her. What if Mom leaves the door open and she runs away, or what if she barks too much and Dad hits her? Jason showed me a Bat-tracker once and I know that it’s like a GPS, but it has a bio scan too, kind of like a fitness watch. We’ll know if anything bad happens and we can rescue her. We have to look out for her, Bruce.”

“I promise that I’ll make sure the Princess of Drake Manor is safe,” Bruce says with a chuckle, and ruffles Tim’s hair. “And I’ll also make sure the Prince of Drake Manor is safe too.”

“Promise?”

“Bat promise.”

 

Notes:

I spent sooo long trying to figure out what would be a fun case of Tim, and after slowly losing my mind, I decided on sea turtle smuggling :) Now that Tim is working on a case, he can get away with using the Batcomputer and the Bat lab to study his magical clothing without anyone knowing.

Chapter 8: Party at the gym

Summary:

Tim goes back to gymnastics lessons

Notes:

Prompt #20 - Pumpkin

Gotham City is pitch black at 5:30 AM, but the streets are filled with villains in bright costumes, and a vigilante named Robin dressed like a stoplight, to light up the dark streets. Friday night Bat- patrol always lasts until sunrise, so Batman and Robin aren’t due back to Wayne Manor for another hour at the least.

The Saturday morning routine consists of Bruce and Jason returning from their extended Friday night patrol in the wee hours of the morning, and neither one of them waking up before noon. Jason usually sleeps for an hour or two more. That makes Saturday the perfect day for Tim’s gymnastics lessons. Tim can easily commute to Bludhaven for gymnastics lessons with Dick, hang out for a while, maybe have a quick lunch, and then commute back to Wayne Manor before Bruce and Jason are even awake.

Before Tim lived with the Waynes, he took the bus to his Bludhaven gymnastics lessons. The bus ride was sketchy, but Tim didn’t mind. He just had to be extra careful. It wasn’t a big deal.

It became a big deal when Bruce put the stop on an unsupervised ten-year-old riding the bus out of state. Bruce suggested that Tim take lessons in Gotham, but when Tim told him how much he loves Coach Dickie’s lessons and his friends at the Bludhaven gym, Bruce found a workaround – because he’s Bruce, and he’s awesome.

Bruce is good friends with an engineer that works for the Gotham City Railroad. He asked his friend if it would be okay if Tim could sit with him in the engine cab car. Dick could then pick up Timmy when he arrives at the train station.

Tim is pretty sure that sitting with the train’s engineer is against the rules, but Gotham City Railroad isn’t known for being a very law-abiding company. The Falcone mob family runs Gotham’s transit system, which is why the bus lines are so sketchy.

So, at 5:22, Friday morning, Tim is standing on the train platform with Alfred, waiting for the 5:25 local train to Bludhaven to arrive.

Tim cups his hands around his mouth and blows into them, hoping to simultaneously warm up his hands and his face. He probably should have worn a warmer coat. He doesn’t own a scarf, but when he was getting his coat from the closet, he had seen Bruce’s warm black scarf on the hanger with the man’s heavy wool peacoat. Tim should have asked Alfred if he could borrow it. His collection of magical clothing is lacking any of Bruce’s stuff. He’s going to have to correct that soon.

He takes his phone from his pocket and checks the train app to make sure the train is running on time. After a quick check that the train is on schedule, Tim opens the tracker app on his phone. The tracker app is attached to the tracker Tim put on Princess’ collar. According to the app’s GPS, Princess is in Athens, Greece right now. The weather this hot, but not too hot this time of year in Greece, unlike the chill that’s starting to descend on Gotham. It’s not blazing hot in Greece, but Tim is still keeping a close eye on Princess’ hydration levels just to make sure.

Tim jumps when his phone buzzes in his hand. The name Dick pops up on the screen and Tim swipes to answer the call. A very chipper Dick is on the other end.

“Heya, Timmy. I just got back from patrol a few minutes ago and I’m super excited about today. I forgot to tell you that we’re having a party at the gym after class. Halloween is coming up, so me and Amy have a bunch of pumpkins for you guys to carve. After that, I’m going to put on a movie and all you little kiddies can overdose on candy and popcorn. The party is right after class, but I promise to have you home before B and Jay wake up. How does that sound?”

“That sounds like fun, Dickie.”

“Awesome! I’m all out of popcorn, so I’ll swing by the store, and then I’ll head over to the train station and wait for you, buddy. Just send me a text when you’re actually on the train so I know that everything’s cool. And say hi to Alfie for me. Actually, can you hand the phone to Alfie for a sec. I need to ask him something really quick.”

Tim hands over the phone and goes back to blowing on his hands. He’s really excited to see Dick, even though they talk all the time.

Jason is fun to hang out with, but he isn’t a talker like Dick. Tim and Jason usually play videogames or listen to audiobooks together, which Tim loves. Jason also lets Tim tell him long winded stories without interrupting. Once Tim talked for thirty minutes straight, while Jason attentively listened. Tim was pretty sure Jason had stopped paying attention half-way through, but Jason asked a follow up question at the end, and that was the day Tim discovered that Jason is a really, really, good listener.

Dick, is very different.

He’s a pretty good listener, but he also loves to talk. Dick never really sleeps, partly due to his entire diet consisting of sugary cereal, and partly due to his naturally hyperactive personality. Dick also keeps forgetting that Tim is ten, because he sometimes calls Tim at three in the morning to chat about something cool that happened earlier in the day or on patrol. Tim never complains, though. Anytime Tim calls Dick in the middle of the night about a nightmare, Dick always answers on the first ring, even if Tim can hear fighting sounds in the background. Dick is Tim’s hero, in so many ways.

The horn of the train startles Tim back to reality. Alfred hands him the phone and watches him board the train. The conductor ushers Tim to the engine car and Tim hops into the seat next to the engineer.

Bruce’s engineer friend is a tall man with a bushy brown mustache. Tim expected the man to be wearing blue and white striped overalls, a red bandana around his neck, and a matching blue and white striped hat. Instead, the man is wearing a red t-shirt and jeans, and a name tag that says, Big E.

Tim learns that Big E is a nickname for train engineers. He also learns that Big E is the nicest man in the world. By the time Tim reaches Bludhaven, he knows what every button on the control panel does. Big E even promises to let Tim drive the train on the way back, and Tim really hopes he’s not joking.

Dick is waiting on the train platform, and Big E hops off the train and introduces himself to Dick.

“Well, if it isn’t little Dickie,” Big E whistles. “I remember when you were this high.” He holds his hand down lower than Tim’s height and it makes Tim smile. “You’re all grown up now. You look just like your old man, Brucie.”

Dick laughs and hugs Big E. “I shouldn’t hug you after an insult like that.”

Big E claps Dick on the back as they hug. “Alright, Dickie. Make sure the kid is on this platform no later than 1:45 PM. That’s when my shift ends.”

Dick releases the hug and salutes.

“You got it,” he says.

“Bye Mr. Big E. I’ll see you later,” Timmy says while waving.

“Bye Timmy. And don’t forget, if you’re not here by 1:45, this train turns into a pumpkin, and Dickie boy is going to give you a carriage ride home.”

 

____

 

The gymnasium is decorated top to bottom with Halloween streamers, and cobwebs, and hanging spiders, and ghosts, and every other Halloween related decoration known to man.

Tim runs over to greet all of his gymnastics friends that he hasn’t seen in a while.

He’s still the only boy in class, but instead of going off to use the boy’s equipment like the high bar or the rings, today’s class consists of tumbling and trampoline, so Tim joins the girls for the entire class. This is the most fun Tim has had in gymnastics class ever! And when he sticks the landing of his roundoff, double back tuck, the girls cheer so loudly that he feels like he just won an Olympic gold medal.

He's never smiled so hard in his entire life. He’s pretty sure he’s never blushed that particularly deep shade of Robin red before in his life either.

Tim is now an official member of the girl squad, and happily carves his pumpkin listening to everyone gossip and giggle as Coach Dickie and Coach Tina set out bean bag chairs and foam from the foam pit in an area by the flat screen TV. Most of the girls are chattering about how cute Coach Dickie is, and how cool it is that Tim is now his brother.

Tim is a fast pumpkin carver, so when he’s finished, he helps some of the slower carvers. Tim hated taking all of the “guts” out of his pumpkin, so he doesn’t help with that, but he’s more than happy to help saw out triangle eyes and noses.

Soon the group moves to the movie viewing area and Tim gets the squishiest bean bag chair. Mindy picks the movie, Dumbo, and Tim perks up. It’s a movie about a magic feather that isn’t actually magic. Dumbo’s confidence was the real magic. It’s the perfect movie for Tim’s hoodie research. He can compare Dumbo’s confidence in the magical feather to his own confidence in his collection of magical things and see if there’s any similarities.

Everything is going great until Dick sits next to him. The scene where Dumbo is being taken away from his mom comes on the screen and Tim can hear Dick softly clear his throat.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

A movie about the circus, elephants, and being separated from your mother is the perfect combination to trigger Dick.

Tim glances over at Dick and it’s worse than he thought. Dick’s eyes are filled with tears, and he has such a pained look on his face that Tim almost starts crying along with him. As Dumbo’s mama starts singing, ‘Baby mine… don’t you cry…,’ Dick loses the battle to his tears.

Tim catches a glimpse of tears rolling down Dick’s face, and his agonized expression, before Dick covers his eyes with the side of his hand and rushes toward the locker room.

The rest of the movie watchers are oblivious to what just happened. Everyone’s eyes are glued to the screen. Tim tries to be as subtle as he can when he gets up to go after Dick, but no one notices when he leaves either.

Tim pushes the locker room door open and peeks his head inside. He can hear sniffling and heads toward the sound.

Dick is sitting on the floor with his back to a wall of lockers. Both of his hands are in his hair and his shoulders are shaking so Tim can tell he’s still crying.

Tim is not good with situations like this, but Dick is always there for him, even when he calls him during patrol, so Tim takes a deep breath and sits next to Dick.

“Dickie, do you need a shoulder to cry on? I know my shoulders are small, but they’re here if you need them.”

Dick puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder, scooting him against his side. Tim snuggles into his side because he’s pretty sure Dick is asking for a hug. He keeps hugging him, and gently pats Dick’s back, which gets a watery chuckle from his brother.

After what Tim would describe as a good cry, Dick sniffs aggressively and wipes his nose.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Dick says, and then clears his throat.

“If my mom was as nice as Mama Dumbo or Mama Grayson, I’d be sad if she was gone too.”

Tim hugs Dick for as long as he can, until he gets that jittery feeling all over, and has to scoot away.

“What was your mom like?” Tim asks.

Dick’s eyes are still shiny, but he smiles as he tells Tim all about his mom, the circus, and his best elephant friend Zitka.

Dick sends a lightning-fast text halfway through the story, and Tim assumes it’s to Coach Tina, because no one ever knocks on the locker room door to see if everything is alright.

Just as Tim is starting to get a chill from sitting on the floor, Dick stands and helps Tim to his feet too. When they leave the privacy of the locker room, the gym is just as empty. All that’s left is the leftover things from the party.

“Tina said she’d handle the kids, but I have to clean up, and close the gym,” Dick says as he chucks a block of foam back into the foam pit. “It’s getting late – oh my god, it’s one thirty! I gotta get you to the train station.”

Tim doesn’t have time to change out of his gymnastics shorts and T-shirt. He only has time to grab his gym bag and his pumpkin, and run to the train station. The run isn’t far, but it’s more efficient for Tim to climb on Dick’s back and travel piggyback style.

Thank goodness Dick has Nightwing speed, because they reach the train station right as the train is pulling into the station.

Tim stands on his toes and gives Dick one last hug, before boarding the train. He waves as the train pulls out of the station.

Tim sits in the seat next to Big E.

“Hey kid. Why are you smiling like a jack-o-lantern?”

Tim puts the pumpkin he carved on the ledge by the window.

“I made this for you Mr. Big E. The window ledge is too empty. It needs a pumpkin.”

“Actually,” Big E says with a smirk, “A pumpkin is only a pumpkin when it isn’t carved. Once it has a face, it’s a jack-o-lantern.”

Tim’s face lights up in awe. Big E really is the coolest train engineer ever!

 

Notes:

I really wanted to write a nice fluffy chapter for Tim (well maybe it's not totally fluffy for Dick, but he got there by the end). True story: I couldn't think of a name for the train engineer so I googled train engineer names (because that makes sense lol) and it said that Big E is a common nickname for them and I was like PERFECT.

I'm having so much fun with this story, and even though I didn't finish by the official end of Flufftober, I'll keep posting until 31 prompts are done. It'll just take a while :) Thank you as always for all of the kind, funny, and insightful comments! It's safe to say that Timmy will be adopting every stuffed animal he can find, and also rescuing and bringing home every living animal for Bruce to adopt.

Chapter 9: Real heroes wear aprons

Summary:

Tim helps a friend and then makes a new friend. (Horrible summary, but I don't want to spoil anything lol)

Notes:

Prompt #19 - Keeping someone safe

Tim mixes the pancake batter with a wooden spoon and looks over at Alfred. Alfred smiles back, filling the kitchen with more warmth than the oven behind them.

After breakfast Tim and Jason are going on a stakeout at the pet shop – the first real mission of Tim’s case – so, when Alfred knocked on the door and asked Tim for help preparing Sunday breakfast Tim couldn’t believe how awesome today was going to be.

Tim looks down at his Batman pajamas as he stirs and feels extremely underdressed next to the always immaculate Alfred Pennyworth. Tim had literally jumped at the chance to help Alfred, so he didn’t bother to actually get dressed. Dick’s hoodie was draped on the chair by his desk, but Tim had decided against grabbing it. Dick is almost as terrible as Bruce is in the kitchen. Both of them have been banned from ever touching the stove, microwave, toaster, countertop grill – pretty much banned from touching anything except opening the fridge. Tim hasn’t worked out the idiosyncrasies regarding hoodie magic, but channeling Dick’s lack of skill in the kitchen is something Tim wants to avoid.

Tim watches Alfred like a hawk as the man meticulously pours small circles of pancake batter onto a pan on the stove. All four pans on the stovetop are devoted to pancakes, and for the last pan, Alfred lets Tim pour the batter.

Alfred holds Tim by the waist, lifting him up to get a better angle over the pan. Tim had counted in his head to five when Alfred poured each pancake, so he does the same when he pours his. Tim’s disc shaped batter isn’t Alfred quality, but at least Tim’s blobs of batter are somewhat round shaped. They also don’t merge into one giant blob, so that’s a plus.

The next step is a little chaotic. Alfred arms Tim with a spatula and the two chefs flip the pancakes. All the pancakes are ready to be flipped at different times, and Tim has to stand on his toes to reach the pan in front of him. Alfred takes care of the other three pans.

Tim high-fives Alfred when all the pancakes are successfully flipped. When all the pancakes are stacked on a plate, Tim walks them over to the breakfast nook table. Tim takes slow, careful steps, holding his breath. He’s watched enough baking shows with Jason that involve carrying towering cakes or delicate chocolate sculptures to the judging table. Tim always covers his eyes when bakers carry their fragile masterpieces and asks Jason to tell him when it’s safe to look.

Tim successfully transfers the plate of pancakes to the table, and wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist. The sweat is from a combination of pancake stress and the heat of the potato casserole baking in the oven.

“Master Timothy. I seem to have run out of oregano for the potato casserole. Would you be so kind to retrieve a jar of the spice from the pantry? It should be on the bottom rack of the spice rack.”

“No problem, Alfie. I’ll get it.”

The walk to the pantry isn’t long, but when Tim opens the door to the large food storage closet, he gasps. Along the back wall is a rack with more aprons than he can count.

Magical aprons.

Tim gets the spices first and then gazes at the endless row of identical black aprons. It’s not actually endless, there are forty-two aprons.

He slips a crisp apron from the rack, standing on his toes to reach. He ties the apron, once around his neck, and once around his waist. The apron doesn’t have the desired fit at all, but Tim’s clothes are covered, so it will do the job.

Tim exits the pantry and already feels like a master chef.

He breezes through the rest of breakfast prep. Alfred comments that Tim seems to have a new pep in his step, and Tim is more confident than ever that Wayne Manor is filled with magical clothes. He can’t wait to write all of his findings into his notebook. He’s workshopping a name for his research notebook, the current name needs a little bit of work, but for now he’s been calling it, The Magical Power Parameters of the Wayne Hoodies as Well as Other Wayne Non-Hoodie Clothing and Accessories.

Okay, maybe the title needs more than a little bit of work, but the important thing is, Tim has just acquired a new apron. He’s never giving it back. The apron’s new permanent home is in Tim’s closet.

 

___

 

“These are delicious,” Bruce raves as he shovels another forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

“I cannot take all the credit, Master Bruce. I had the aid of a helpful little kitchen elf.”

Tim laughs as he dips a slice of pancake in a pool of syrup on the side of his plate. He makes sure the pancake soaks up just the right amount of syrup before he eats it. The correct syrup to pancake ratio is extremely important to Tim.  

Jason goes off on a tangent about how his Robin boots are so much cooler than the elf booties that Dick used to wear when he was Robin.

Tim ignores this riveting conversation and makes a mental note to categorize aprons as vests when he sorts them in his notebook. His notebook is for serious research, but he also makes a mental note to add Alfred’s oven roasted potato casserole recipe in the margin of one of the pages.

He’s only half paying attention when Bruce’s voice catches his attention.

 “ – only put a baked potato with the foil on it in the microwave one time, and you’re never going to let me live that down. In my defense I was half asleep after being on patrol for 48 hours straight, and I was also nineteen at the time. Are you ever going to let me live that one down, Dad.”

Everyone at the table is silent and all eyes are on Bruce. He’s a rare shade of red as he sputters, “Alfred, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you – I not sure why – I, um.”

Bruce clears his throat and goes back to eating his pancakes, staring at the plate as if he’s trying to solve the world’s most difficult case.

Tim is pretty sure that Bruce isn’t going to start crying, but he doesn’t want another Dumbo incident. Dick has already text-apologized six times for that, but Tim keeps telling him he doesn’t have to apologize. Tim loved learning more about Mama Grayson, and the circus, and Zitka. Plus, crying isn’t always a bad thing. Tim’s guidance counselor told him that a good long cry can be healing, and Tim is pretty sure that’s what she meant.

Still, Bruce looks kind of embarrassed, and Tim knows what it’s like to say something really awkward and embarrassing, so he’s happy to play the part of hero and change the subject.

“Alfie, did you know that Bruce gave me a case, and it means I can save turtles, and Jason is going to go to the pet store after breakfast so we can do surveillance?”

“Master Bruce has told me of your case. In fact, when I first read through the casefile, I informed him that the Manor will have to be prepared for an army of turtles. I suggested building a saltwater pond of some sort in the backyard next to the rose garden for all of the sea friends you will inevitably rescue.”

“I can keep all of them?!” Tim gasps.

“Timmy, lad, the smugglers might have over a hundred turtles in their shipment,” Bruce says cautiously.

“Yay,” Tim cheers, “We’re getting hundreds of sea turtles!”

How is he supposed to finish breakfast when his stomach keeps doing flips of excitement?

Understandably, Tim leaves half his plate of breakfast uneaten, which earns a displeased look from Alfred, but he promises to eat the rest when he gets home, and that seems to appease Alfred.

Jason and Tim head directly for their bikes in the garage and head over to the pet store. The store is open from eight in the morning until midnight  – which is a huge red flag because who buys pets at midnight? The plan is for Tim and Jason to stake out the place as two kids looking at the pets. It will give Jason a chance to get familiar with the interior of the store, making mental markings of which places the floor tiles are uneven, or which shelves are sturdy enough to climb on, compared to which shelves are better to hide behind as a shield, or push over as a defensive weapon.

When they park their bikes outside of the store Jason points at Tim.

“I have a hoodie just like that. Is that mine?”

“Oh, this?” Tim says, wincing when his voice squeaks. “I um, Alfie must have got it mixed up in the wash and gave it to me by accident. I’ll give it back when we get home.”

“Nah, it’s cool. It looks good on you. You can keep it. I’ve got so many hoodies in my closet anyway.”

‘And one less every day,” Tim adds in his head.

The tiny bell over the door jingles as Jason and Tim make their way into the pet store.

The first thing that greets Tim is a chocolate brown guineapig. Tim has to shove his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from reaching into the cage and picking up the guineapig that’s looking up at him with a face that definitely has Let’s Play written all over it.

Jason whispers from the side of his mouth, “It’s a straight shot from here to the back door. The door probably exits to a fire escape in case the place gets raided, and everyone can make a quick getaway before getting busted. I bet the most dangerous animals are closer to that back door. All it takes is a quick kick of a cage and the cops are running from an unhappy tarantula or a boa constrictor.”

A man wearing a gray track suit and a red belly bag around his waist walks over. Tim can’t stop looking at the man’s belly bag. It looks really silly, but there’s a solid possibility that there’s a gun inside. The man unzips the bag and Tim holds his breath. Jason moves his hand to signal for Tim to get behind him, but before Tim can get into position, the man pulls out a bag of beef jerky from the belly bag. Tim and Jason both take a sigh of relief.

“Hey kids,” the man mumbles, with a mouthful of jerky. “What you want?”

“A tiger,” Tim says, causing Jason to turn to him confused. Tim smiles wider. “I told my brother that I bet you guys have a tiger in here, but he said no way. I think you do, though. You guys totally have a tiger.”

Jason is giving Tim the proudest look that Tim has ever gotten from another human being.

“A tiger, huh,” The man says with a snort. “That kind of thing would be illegal.”

“We aint cops,” Jason says, making his Crime Alley accent heavy. “We just wanna see a tiger, and all the other weird shit you have in here.”

Track suit man laughs and then crosses his arms over his chest.

“You wanna see something real sweet? Wait right here.”

He disappears into the back. While the man is gone, a snake, in a terrarium near Tim, sticks it’s tongue out at him. Tim walks over to the glass tank and smiles at the snake.

“Hey Jason, did you know that snakes stick out their tongues when they’re trying to smell something. A lot of people think their doing it because their mean, but they’re actually just vibing.”

“That’s great Timmy,” Jason says, pushing on a shelf to test its structural integrity. “Maybe you should get a job and work undercover here. The jerk with the jerky seems like the exact type of dipshit that would hire a kid and then tell you to feed a live mouse to that snake over there.”

The snake jerks against the glass, and that’s the only warning Tim gets before something big and angry growls behind him. He spins around and a spotted leopard on a leash is barely being held back by Tracksuit man.

Tim screams (which in hindsight is the worst thing he could have done). The leopard pounces forward, dragging Tracksuit man with it.

“What the fuck?!” Jason yells, running to shield Tim, but Tracksuit guy regains control of the leopard, which is now snarling and thrashing, but not pulling forward.

Tim is still in flight mode and runs right into a rack of doggie toys. He feels the jagged edge of the metal rack slice across his stomach, right before he falls to his knees.

Jason reaches him a second later and skids to the floor.

“Timmy? Are you okay? He’s putting the cheetah, mountain lion, whatever the fuck that was away. There’s no way in hell that he owns that wild animal legally. Are you hurt?”

Tim can feel blood escaping from the cut right under his ribcage, but Jason’s red hoodie is thick enough and red enough to hide the damage. Tim doesn’t want the first mission that he’s ever gone on to end like this, so he lies.

“I’m okay. I just fell, but I have an idea.”

Tim whispers in Jason’s ear and Jason smiles, “You little genius.”

Tracksuit man reappears without the leopard, and by that time Tim has managed to push out a few fake tears and holds his wrist. “I think I hurt my wrist, Mister,” Tim says with a wobbly voice.

“Oh, shit. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. You spooked Jasper when you screamed.”

“It was really scary,” Tim whimpers. “I thought –,” he cuts himself off and takes shallow hiccupy breaths.

“It’s okay, kid. What can I do to calm you down? You want an ice pack for your wrist?”

“I – I like the ninja turtles,” Tim says meekly. “Do you have any turtles here?”

“Sure kiddo. I got some in the back. I’ll give you a turtle for free. I’ll even throw in the tank for free too.”

The man rushes to the back again and Tim wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “Bingo,” he says with a smile. “We can study the turtle at home to find out the exact turtle species that they’re smuggling.”

Tim manages to get a free turtle, a free turtle tank, and a free doggie toy for Princess. Jason promises to climb through Princess’s bedroom window in Drake Manor, and deliver it to the puppy. Princess will have the present waiting for her when she returns from Greece.

Jason balances the tank with the turtle securely between the handlebars of his bike and they ride home. It’s a slow ride because Jason has one hand on his handlebar and one hand holding the edge of the tank, so it doesn’t fall.

When they eventually get back to Wayne Manor, Bruce greets them at the door.

Jason holds up the tank. “Picture this, but hundreds more.”

Bruce sighs and takes the tank.

“Alright boys, follow me to the cave for a debriefing.”

 

___

 

“We should name him Michelangelo,” Tim says, kicking his feet as he balances the turtle tank on his lap. “I think the Batcave is too cold and scary for Michelangelo, because he won’t come out of his shell.”

Tim lowers his voice and directs it through the tank. “Don’t worry Mikey, your brothers and sisters will be here soon. It’s my job to keep all of you safe.”

Dick coos from the giant screen of the Bat-computer. “Aww. Michelangelo is so cute. He’s so much cuter than Jarro.”

“Who’s Jarro?” Tim asks.

Jason presses his face close to the glass tank.

“Jarro is Dad’s favorite son,” Jason says with a snort. “He’s a talking alien starfish that use to live down here in the cave, but he’s at the Watchtower with the Justice League right now.”

“I don’t have favorites,” Bruce says with a sigh, flipping through paperwork. Bruce had run some lab scans on Michelangelo and taken some bloodwork, so the papers in his hands are a few of those lab print outs. The scary lab tests are probably another reason that Mikey has taken cover in his shell.

“I have a starfish brother,” Tim says with awe. “I mean, I’ll have a brother if the judge says that I don’t have to live with Mom and Dad again.  

Bruce clears his throat.

“I have no doubt in my mind that you will be part of the Wayne family. A family that is starting to include an alarming number of pets. Anyway, this is an official team debriefing. That is why Nightwing is here virtually. We must respect Tim as mission leader and act professionally during meetings. The first matter I would like to address is that Michelangelo should not be able to retreat into his shell. Sea turtles do not have the ability to do that. Therefore, he is a mutant.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow, challenging Dick to take the bait.

Dick twitches, and mouths the word, “Asshole.”

“Furthermore,” Bruce says, “Michelangelo appears to be a mutant and the lab scans approximate that he was a juvenile. I would classify him as a teenage mutant turtle. Do you have anything professional to say about that, Dick?”

Dick sticks up both of his middle fingers at Bruce, and then shifts his attention to Tim and smiles.

“I’m so proud of you, Timmy. It’s such an important skill to be able to think on your feet. You’ll have those pet shop smugglers shut down in no time.”

Tim leads the team through the rest of the debriefing. He tries not to squirm too much, but he’s a little nervous, and the cut on his side is really starting to sting.

He makes it through the meeting and hopes his squirming just looked like restless fidgeting. He heads to his room, taking Michelangelo with him. He sets the turtle on his desk. Michelangelo is out of his shell, now that he’s out of the creepy cave, and swimming around happily.

“I’ll be right back,” Tim says, and heads for the bathroom.

He stands in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of the room and lifts up a corner of his hoodie. A bloody diagonal line runs from just under his lowest right-side rib all the way to his bellybutton. The area around the wound is red and puffy, and he yelps when he presses a finger against it.

He gingerly lifts the hoodie over his head and places it on the floor. He rummages through the medicine cabinet until he finds a first aid kit.

Tim is used to taking care of his own minor cuts and scrapes. His mom and dad were rarely home to help. He knows how important it is to make sure a cut doesn’t get infected. He has to take extra precautions against getting any kind of infection or colds, because his lack of a spleen leaves him extremely vulnerable to getting sick. The same cold that would make an average person with a spleen sick, would leave spleen-less Tim hospitalized. Even with the added boost to his immune system from the daily meds he has to take, Tim still has to be diligent in the fight against infections. That being said, the most important thing that Tim needs to do right now, is to make sure that his wound is cleaned out thoroughly, and that it’s covered securely, to keep the dirt and debris out.

Tim takes his time washing out the wound. He stuffs a towel in his mouth to bite down on when it gets really painful. After emptying half a bottle of sterile wash water, and wrapping the wound with gauze and medical tape, Tim takes a good look at his work in the mirror. The cut still stings and throbs, which isn’t the best, but it’s not bleeding through the bandages, so that means he doesn’t need stitches. He definitely couldn’t have stitched himself up without help.

He scoops up the hoodie off the floor and walks out of the bathroom. He plans to toss the hoodie in the wash himself, because there’s less chance of Jason finding it and stealing it back.

Before he heads to the laundry room, he passes the turtle tank and puts a finger to his lip.

“Shh, Mikey. Don’t tell anyone I’m hurt. Oh, and also, you’re one of the privileged few to see the Bat cave and to see the Bat team unmasked. You have to keep that secret too.”

When Tim adds his notebook entry about Alfred’s magical aprons, he adds the potato casserole recipe too. He also doodles a turtle and a starfish in the margin of the page. The cut on his stomach still stings, and he eventually has to take a Tylenol because it really, really hurts, but it’s fine.

He’s fine.

Everything’s going to be fine.  

Notes:

Michelangelo is Timmy's first turtle, but it won't be his last. Tim's lack of a spleen is about to play a huge factor in the upcoming chapters, but I promise that this is still a fluffy story, so it won't be too bad. Just a little sickfic drama, because I can't resist :) Also, I messed up a little in the last chapter and made the gymnastic party nine hours so I fixed that lol.

Thank you again for all the love you guys are giving this story!

Chapter 10: When the leader of the team needs rescuing

Summary:

Babs returns, Tim goes on another mission, and he really should have told someone about getting hurt at the pet store.

Notes:

Alt prompt - Hot chocolate

“Master Timothy, I have come armed with hot chocolate.”

Tim nods from the squishy office chair behind Bruce’s desk.

Alfred steps into Bruce’s office and approaches the desk with a silver tray in one hand. Balanced on the tray is a silver pitcher of hot chocolate, and tiny silver dishes with marshmallows, whipped cream, chocolate chips, chocolate sprinkles, and other various hot chocolate toppings.

The silver tray makes a soft ting sound as Alfred settles it on the edge of the desk.

“If there is anything else you need, you may ring for me, Master Timothy.”

Tim smiles, but an annoyed Barbara Gordon sighs, “You’re not just here with hot chocolate, Alfie. You’re here to see if I’m teaching him how to hack into Bruce’s computer, and then you’re going to report back to your boss, aren’t you? Bruce’s files are safe, promise. Although, it might be fun to mess around with Lex Luthor’s company expenses. Hey Teddy Bear, you wanna learn how to move all of Luthor’s money from his bank account into a dark web shadow company with just one click?”

“Yeah,” Tim shouts at the same time Alfred says, “Certainly not.”

Alfred carefully fills a mug of hot chocolate as he lifts an eyebrow.

“Miss Gordon, my mission here does not involve espionage on behalf of Master Bruce. I just come bearing hot beverages and hot beverages only. Nothing more.”

Alfred passes a piping hot mug of hot chocolate to Babs.

Babs and Tim are both sitting behind Bruce’s desk. Babs has her laptop between her and Tim so that they can go over the details of Tim’s turtle smuggling case. On the laptop, there may or may not be a minimized window that has direct access to GCPD’s entire criminal mugshot files, and Babs may or may not have been the proudest Mama bear when Teddy Bear Tim followed her hacking instructions, mastering that new skill.

Alfred fills a mug for Tim and hums softly.

Tim eyes the tiny silver dish of crushed candy canes. He’ll wait for Alfred to leave before he dumps the whole thing into his mug. Alfred would judge him for excessive amounts of peppermint toppings, Babs won’t judge.

Babs pops a chocolate chip into her mouth.

“I’ll take good care of Teddy Bear. I think that Teddy Bear should be Timmy’s hero name. What do you think, Timmy?”

“Yeah, or maybe Bearwing,” Tim says excitedly. “I could have a suit like Batman, but my cowl won’t have pointy bat ears, it should have round bear ears. Alfie, can you make me a Bearwing cowl? Pleeease?”

Alfred chuckles as he walks out of the room. A chuckle isn’t a no, so Tim dumps the dish of crushed candy canes into his hot chocolate and daydreams about a bulletproof, black, bear-eared cowl.

He only daydreams for a few seconds because he’s in Bruce’s office, and he’s in the middle of an official business meeting with Babs. Tim’s after school business meeting with Babs was supposed to be at a coffee shop like a real business meeting, but Alfred’s hot chocolate tastes so much better than coffee.

The meeting proceeds with Babs teaching Tim how to hack into surveillance cameras at the pet store and the docks, and how to control the cameras remotely. Tim absorbs as much information as he can.

Babs and Tim work together to follow the cyber trail of the smugglers and they discover that the next shipment of turtles is coming into Gotham harbor in three days. That means that at least one member of the Bat team needs to run recon on the docks before the shipment comes in. Tim had good results when him and Jason went to the pet store yesterday. Tim got hurt during the mission, but nobody knows but him, plus the cut doesn’t hurt too much, so that’s considered a win.

Tim knows that Bruce won’t let him tag along if Tim makes this a Bats-in-suits mission, so Tim tells Babs that he wants to run the mission as an undercover stake out, with Bruce pretending he wants to buy a boat, and he’s going to bring his two sons, Jason and Tim with him.

“That’s a great plan,” Babs says. “I’ll show you how to write up the report as a mission briefing and we’ll email all the details to Batman. I think the best time for the mission is tomorrow after you and Jay get out of school. The docks are way less dangerous before the sun goes down.”

“Are you coming with us?”

“Sorry, kiddo, I’ve got a huge project tomorrow, but I’ll give you a good luck charm so that I’ll be there in spirit.”

Babs pulls off her hair tie and her hair falls down to her shoulders. She hands Tim her hair tie and Tim gasps. Babs is part of the Bat team, which means she’s kind of like a Wayne, which means… magic hair tie.

Tim slips the hair tie on his wrist and instantly feels smarter.

“Thank you,” Tim says softly, staring down at his wrist in disbelief.

“No problem, Teddy Bear. You wouldn’t believe how many of those Dick has stolen from me. I swear, the day he gets a haircut, I’m stealing all of them back.”  

____

 

Tim presses himself against the backseat window and looks at all the ships in the harbor. The docks are busier than Tim has ever seen them. Captains are shouting orders to their crew, as boats are loading and unloading cargo. The whir of heavy machinery is almost louder than the waves crashing against the wooden legs of the pier.

The only experience Tim has with the dockside part of town comes from when he secretly stalked the Bat team armed with a camera and abnormal amounts of bravery for a civilian dangerously close to the action. Everything looks so much different when the sun is out, and Tim doesn’t have to watch out for machine gun bullets ricocheting off crates. And speaking of the sun, it’s a rare warm autumn day, so Tim feels warm in just a light hoodie. (It’s actually one of Jason’s stolen hoodies, but Jason doesn’t seem to notice)

The sun bounces off a huge yellow crane and Tim presses his camera against the window to frame the shot. The quick movement pulls at the cut along his right side. The sharp pain causes his left eye to twitch in time with his finger on the shutter button.

Tim woke up this morning feeling dizzy, cold, and drained of energy, and he’s pretty sure that the cause is the bright red scar that keeps getting more painful. Tim did everything right when he treated it, so it can’t be infected, but just in case he bought two orange juices from the school vending machine. He chugged both of the drinks and he’s positive the extra vitamin C will boost his immune system enough to fight off any infection. He bought two more OJs before school ended, but they’re still in his backpack, saved for later, and he’ll make sure to ask Alfred for an orange as a snack when he gets back home.

Tim keeps taking pictures of the bustling shipyard, until Bruce parks the car.

Bruce looks into the rearview mirror and ruffles his hair, making himself look more like hot dad Brucie Wayne than undercover Batman.

Bruce catches Tim’s eye and flashes the fakest smile ever.

“Ready to go, chum?”

Tim tilts his head. “What does chum mean?”

Jason snorts, “It’s an old-timey name for buddy or friend. B uses it because he’s as old as fuck.”

“Jason, language,” Bruce warns.

“Sorry,” Jason mumbles.

Bruce and his two sons exit the most expensive car that Bruce has in his car collection. Bruce makes a big deal of clicking on the alarm. The alarm beeps and it’s followed by a robotic female voice that says, “Alarm armed.”

This gets a few of the sailors to look over at Bruce. One of them even scowls.

Bruce still has the fake smile plastered on his face and Tim tries not to be too creeped out. Bruce takes both Tim and Jason by the hand, and leads the boys toward the largest ship in the dock.

Tim looks up at Bruce as they walk.

“Babs gave me one of her hair ties for luck,” Tim says, raising the arm that Bruce isn’t holding and showing off the lucky elastic. “Do you believe in luck?”

“I do, but I don’t need luck,” Bruce says with a wink.

Tim wonders if the part that Bruce left unsaid was “…because I have magical clothing.”

When they reach the end of the dock, Tim looks up at the massive ship. Bruce’s eyes shift to a stack of crates on the port side of the ship. He flashes his famous Brucie Wayne smile and raises his voice so everyone around can hear.

“Timmy, take a picture of me in front of the boat, but back up so you get the whole boat in the picture. When I send the pictures to my personal assistant, he needs to know that this is how big I want my new yacht to be. If he buys anything smaller, he’s fired. Oh, and make sure you get some close ups of me too. Only my good side though.”

Tim understands the assignment. The sailor bystanders think Tim is taking glamour shots of Bruce and wide shots of the boat, but Tim actually zooms in on the stack of crates on the boat. He makes sure to get the serial numbers on the crates in focus. Tim wonders if the shipment came early and the crates are full of sea turtles. It’s probably more likely that the crates have firearms or drugs inside, and it’s involved in another case. Batman is always multitasking.

After a few pictures, Tim can’t help but laugh. Bruce has both arms behind his head, flexing his biceps, and an eyebrow raised, like he’s a supermodel. Tim giggles as Bruce goes from one hot guy pose to the next. Even Jason joins in laughing.

When Bruce gives finger guns to the camera, Jason and Tim are howling with laughter. Tim has never seen this sillier side of Bruce and it’s amazing.

Someone from one of the boats turns on a radio, and pop music fills the air. Bruce starts moving his hips to the beat and motions for Tim and Jason to join him. The three of them create a little dance circle as they rock out to the beat.

If this is what missions are like, Tim is never staying home!

When the song ends, the dance party ends too. Bruce smiles down at Tim and ruffles his hair.

“Let’s head home, boys,” he says. The fake smile is gone, and Bruce is looking at Tim with genuine happiness.

Right as Tim turns to move, a man shouts over the music, “Look out below!”

Tim turns to face the direction of the command, and it’s just in time to see a huge metal box crash into the water. The dropped box kicks up a massive swell of water, and that water hits Tim, drenching him completely. Jason gets just as much of a bath from the sea water, but Bruce is lucky enough to be just out of the splash zone.

The man operating the crane yells down to them, “Sorry.”

Jason and Tim trudge back to the car, soaked from head to toe.

The only change of clothes in the car are a Batman and a Robin suit, so Bruce turns the heat up to full blast, and promises to get Jason and Tim back home as fast as he can. Jason jokes that the polluted Gotham Harbor water is going to turn them both into mutant zombies. Tim laughs, but he’s distracted. He’s soaking wet, covered in the most polluted water in the entire Tri-state area, which is bad, but what makes it worse is that he knows the polluted water soaked through his bandage.

Tim’s heart is racing, but he’s hoping a nice long shower will fix this. A shower, and an orange, and a warm fuzzy blanket are all he needs.

_____

 

 

It’s a little after three o’clock in the morning and Tim hasn’t slept at all. It’s a school night, so insomnia isn’t ideal, but Tim is in too much pain to sleep. He’s fully aware that his immune system has lost the battle against the aching wound across his stomach. The knockout punch came from the Gotham Harbor bath.

Tim rolls over in bed. Is it called tossing and turning if you’re not actually asleep?

He buries his head into his pillow and uses it to muffle his groans. The pain is mixing with the dizziness and the nausea and even though he’s sweating, he can’t stop shivering.

He rolls onto his back and mutters, “Jason…”

Tim’s guest bedroom isn’t in the family wing, so there’s no way Jason can hear him, but Tim isn’t sure if he wants him to. Jason went on the mission at the docks, and then went on Bat patrol right after dinner, so he deserves uninterrupted sleep. Bruce does too. They work hard. They don’t need to be inconvenienced just because Tim’s immune system decided to wimp out.

Tim closes his eyes, but his head is pounding so hard. Sleep isn’t happening. He looks at his hair tie bracelet and wonders what Babs would do in this situation. He can almost hear her voice in his head.

You’ve got an infection, kiddo. You need a doctor.

Tim sits up in bed and his head is swimming. He feels weak and floaty and he’s not sure why. Everything hurts and he’s not sure why either.

“Mom?” he calls out.

There’s no answer. She must be out of the country with Dad. Mom and Dad are never home when Tim’s sick. That’s okay. He can use an app to get a ride to the clinic. He probably needs a hospital, but Mom got mad last time when he had a driver drop him off at the hospital. She said something about Child Protective Services threatening to take Tim away.

Tim holds his head and drags himself out of bed. He continues to hold his head as he tries to remember the address to the clinic. Is it 134 Bruster avenue, or is it 314 Bruster avenue. Maybe it’s Bruster street. Tim isn’t too familiar with the roads in Crime Alley. He mainly uses landmarks to make sure he doesn’t get lost when he’s following Batman and Robin.

Wait… Batman and Robin… is he in Wayne Manor?

Tim tries to put the pieces together, but the fog of delirium keeps getting thicker. By the time he reaches the staircase his mind is fuzzy, but it’s clear enough to know that trying to go down a flight of stairs is a bad idea.

He slides down against the wall and curls up in a ball. He’s so tired. He’ll be able to think more clearly after a nap.

His eyes drift closed and after what feels like a long blink, someone is hovering over him. Tim’s eyes are still closed, but he can sense that the person hovering over him is huge, and the person – a man – knows his name.

“Tim, I need you to open your eyes,” the man says.

Tim does as the man says, but it doesn’t make the picture any clearer. His vision is too blurry to focus on anything, plus he doesn’t know where he is. He vaguely recognizes the voice of the man that spoke to him. His thoughts are racing almost as quickly as his heart.

Where am I? Who’s talking to me? Am I kidnapped again? Is that the voice of the kidnapper? Is that why the voice is familiar?

Air rushes through Tim’s lungs too quickly and he can’t keep up with it. Memories of his last kidnapping merge with reality. He can see a man with a ski mask leaning over him, threatening to hurt him, threatening to sell him. He needs help. Superman saved him before. He needs Superman’s help now.

“Help,” Tim shouts. “Superman! Help me!”

“Timmy, it’s me. It’s Bruce,” the kidnapper says. “Sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m here.”

“Bruce?” Tim wheezes, “Why did… why did Batman kidnap me?”

“I’m here too, Timbo. It’s me, it’s Jay. Keep breathing. Just like me. Nice and slow. You’re doing great, kiddo. B didn’t kidnap you. You live with us, remember?”

Tim nods. His vision is clear enough to see Jason now. He tries to mimic Jason’s breathing.

After a few raggedy breaths, Tim coughs, finally getting in a decent amount of oxygen.

Jason turns away from Tim, “Oh my God, B. What’s wrong with him? He’s shaking, and his heart is going a million miles an hour, and he’s burning up. He definitely has a fever. Wait! Do you think this is from getting soaked at the docks? I bet this is all because of that fucked up water!”

“Jay, we don’t know – hold on. Clark’s calling.”

Tim can hear panicked mumbling on the other end of the phone and then Bruce sighs, “Clark, calm down. Timmy’s alright. I’m right here with him… yes, I know… can you stop talking so I can get a word… I know his heartbeat is… right… yes… just shut up so I can explain!”

While Bruce deals with stressed out Superman, Jason scoots close to Tim. Jason puts his hand, palm side up, between him and Tim. Tim isn’t ready to hold Jason’s hand, but it’s nice to know that it’s there if he needs it.

“Timmy,” Jason says in his Robin voice, “You’re not feeling good?”

Tim bites his lip and nods. He’s feeling woozy again, but he manages to lift his shirt before he starts to forget who and where he is. He’s too out of it to catch Jason’s reaction, but a spike of sharp pain jolts him back to clarity.

Tim whimpers as Bruce presses a hand against Tim’s now infected wound.

“Red streaks,” Bruce says suddenly. “The red streaks on his skin are going in the direction of his heart. It’s an infection, and it’s affecting his blood. Delirium, fever, chills, they’re all signs of a blood infection. Without treatment he’s going to become septic and could – ,” he clears his throat, “We need to get Tim to the hospital, right now. Jason, get Alfred. Now.”

Everything starts to get cloudy again, so Tim pushes against the wound. The pain jolts him back to clarity like before, but it’s so painful that Tim gags. He tries as hard as he can to swallow down the nausea. He can’t throw up on Batman.

The trip to the car is quick, but Bruce runs a little too fast with Tim in his arms, causing Tim to unfortunately throw up on himself and his hero. Tim apologizes as Bruce maneuvers him into the middle seat in the back of the car. Bruce assures him that it’s okay and that he did nothing wrong, as he clicks on Tim’s seatbelt. Jason and Bruce hop into the backseat with Tim sandwiched between them.

Unlike the car that Bruce took to the docks, this one is equipped with a change of clothes. Bruce slips off his own shirt before pulling Tim’s shirt over his head. The extra T-shirts in the car are Wayne Enterprises promotional T-shirts. They’re black T-shirts with Wayne Enterprises written across the front in big white letters.

Tim shivers. He’s ecstatic about wearing twin T-shirts with Bruce, but it’s not exactly T-shirt weather.

He shivers again, causing Bruce to wrap a warm black scarf around Tim’s neck. Tim hums at how nice it smells. The scarf doesn’t smell like the usual laundry detergent that Alfred uses, it has a warm, sweet, woodsy smell. It’s like the smell of creamy, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, mixed with the earthy smell of pine trees in a forest.

It’s the exact scent of Bruce’s cologne. It’s Bruce’s scarf. And now it’s Tim’s scarf. He’s never giving it back. If anyone tries to take it, they’re going to have to pry it out of his cold dead hands, and even then, he’ll grip that scarf from the grave. He’s never letting it go.

Tim curls up in the warmth of the magical scarf and smiles as he gives up against the relentless pull of exhaustion, and passes out.

Notes:

Timmy really underestimated that cut. I'm having so much fun with this story. Full disclosure, I abandoned my outline a few chapters ago and I've been writing everything pretty much in real time so it's been really fun and really terrifying at the same time. Thanks again for all the awesome comments and for following along with the story!

Chapter 11: High grade fever

Summary:

Tim doesn't have the best of luck with hospitals, but at least with the Waynes, there's no danger of him losing another organ for profit.

Notes:

Prompt 24 - 🫠
ok, so it's the emoji melting face and I was going to make it Clayface, but I decided on overheating/fever. Sorry Clayface, you'll have to wait until later to make your appearance in the story

Tim isn’t a fan of hospitals. His two major trips to the hospital ended with him walking out with two less organs than he came in with.

He knows that he’s in the hospital, but when he tries to remember why, pieces of his memories are missing. Time feels out of sync too. He really needs to stop passing out and missing stuff, but one thing is crystal clear… someone took the scarf!

Tim bolts upright, which makes one of the beeping sensors speed up. Tim yanks the hospital blanket off of him and frantically searches for Bruce’s black scarf. The hospital room is white, so Tim can still see even though the lights are off, but the scarf isn’t hiding under the covers.

The beeping monitor has switched from quick beeps to a long-sustained alarm, as Tim continues his search.

“Tim?”

That’s Bruce’s voice.

“Tim, what’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

Bruce is standing at the side of Tim’s bed, looking as helpless as Tim feels.

“They took it,” Tim whimpers. “They took it and I need it.”

Bruce crouches down so he’s eye level with the bed, and Tim uses the opportunity to bury his face in Bruce’s chest. The beeping monitor has gone from alarm mode to quick beeps. Tim can feel Bruce’s heartbeat matching the rhythm of the beeping. Is Batman scared?

“I’m so sorry,” Bruce says, wrapping his arm around Tim. It’s warm, like the lost scarf, so Tim melts into the feeling.

He feels himself drifting off into unconsciousness, as Bruce’s words float over his head.

“I can’t get your spleen back, but if I could, I promise I would, Sweetheart.”

Wait. That’s why Bruce thinks he’s upset? He thinks Tim’s upset about losing his spleen? Or his kidney? Or both?

Tim tries to explain, but the second he opens his mouth, he’s out.

 

____

 

Tim isn’t a fan of hospitals, but he’s even less of a fan of fevers. This is the third time he has been pulled from a peaceful sleep into disjointed semi-consciousness, all because his body temperature has decided to crank up the heat to surface of the sun levels.

The worst part of it all – other than slowly melting from the inside – is that he’s too hot and sweaty to realistically ask Bruce for his scarf back without sounding suspicious. The missing scarf had been spotted the last time Tim was jarred awake by the high-grade fever. Bruce had gotten up to ask one of the nurses at the nurses’ station for ice packs to cool Tim off, and when his chair was empty, Tim spotted the scarf resting on the back of the chair. Sadly, Tim doesn’t remember much after that. The fever makes it hard to keep track of things.

Tim tries to re-orient himself in the here and now. He’s a member of the Bat team. He needs to be able to assess his surroundings.

The lights are on full blast, so it must be one of the normal hours of the morning instead of a weirdly early hour like three or four AM. The small table/dresser next to Tim’s hospital bed has a few items on top. A bottled water (open and half-empty), his good luck hair tie from Babs, and a pamphlet that says, ‘So You Have Sepsis, What Does That Mean and What Should You Do?’

Tim has an IV, so the water probably isn’t his. The hair tie is his, so he slips the hair tie on his wrist with the hospital bracelet on it. The pamphlet is probably about him, so he opens it up and starts reading.

It’s a lot of information to take in, so he’s deeply concentrating when he hears a voice from across the room.

“Tiny Tim, you’re awake!”

Tim looks up and Jason is staring wide-eyed back at him. The lower half of Jason’s face is covered by the book in his hands. He must have realized Tim was awake mid-paragraph and kind of froze in the reading position.

“Hi,” Tim says, causing Jason to toss the book on the chair and race over to the bed. Jason bear hugs Tim so tightly, it’s like Jason hasn’t seen Tim in years and he’s holding onto Tim so he doesn’t disappear.

“Hi,” Tim says again.

Jason pulls away from the hug so he can look at Tim, but his hands are still on Tim’s shoulders.

“You scared me so bad little dude. I was outside in the waiting room with Alfie, Dick, and Uncle Clark the last two times you woke up. I was afraid that you weren’t gonna wake up again before I had to leave for school. Dad insists that I have to go to school which is so unfair. He’s lucky I’m a nerd and I like school, or I’d hate him forever for making me go. I still really wanna stay here with you. I like school, but I like you so much more.”

It's Tim’s turn to wrap his arms around Jason after saying that. Tim closes his eyes and enjoys the hug, but his fever makes the warmth too much to take, so he has to squirm. Jason gets the message and lets go.

Tim looks down at his wrist and plays with the hair tie. “You shouldn’t have to miss school because of me. I tried really hard to take care of everything myself, but I didn’t do it right and I got sick anyway and I ended up bothering everyone. I’m sorry Jason. I should be old enough to take care of myself. I messed this up really bad.”

“Timber, you didn’t do anything wrong, and you didn’t mess anything up. I mean, you really should’ve told me or B that you got hurt, but when you have parents that tell you all the seriously fucked up things that your good for nothing loser parents told you, it makes sense that you’d hide an injury. I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me the next time you get a cut, like even a paper cut, Timmy. You don’t have a spleen, which means you can go from okay to hospitalized real quick.”

Tim nods, “Um, I got hurt when I ran into the rack at the pet store. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You said Dick and Uncle Clark are here? Why?”

“Because we all love you dummy,” Jason says with a smile. “Dickie was literally doing nothing when I called to tell him about you. He was eating tacos on a rooftop because he couldn’t sleep after patrol so like I said, he was literally doing nothing, but even if he was busy, he would’ve dropped whatever he was doing to be here. You and him have the same blood type, so he’s down the hall giving blood in case you need it.”

That makes sense. The fourth bullet point on the pamphlet, under the treatment section, mentions that sometimes a blood transfusion is needed if a septic patient has a severe enough blood infection. Tim looks down at the pamphlet on his lap.

Superman joins the conversation. His voice comes from the direction of the doorway, “I’m here because I heard you when you called for help. I started flying here before Bruce even picked up the phone, buddy.”

Tim wipes his tears away with the back of his hand.

“But why?” he sniffs. “You guys are superheroes that save people from burning buildings and monster attacks. You shouldn’t waste your time here, babysitting me. I’m just Tim. I’m not special. I should be old enough to take care of myself, but I’m just getting in the way, like I always do. Like I always did with Mom and Dad.”

Uncle Clark walks over to the bed and kneels down.

“You are incredibly special. When I heard you call for help, it hit me so hard that it felt like one of Luthor’s mega robots punched me in the face. Your safety is one of my top priorities. Whenever you call for me, I’ll come for you, Timmy. I promised you that before, and I intend to keep that promise.”

“We love you, Timbo,” Jason adds.

Tim starts sobbing.

Jason folds his arms over his chest. “Uncle Clark, look what you did. You made him cry.”

“I was only saying nice things,” Clark says, holding his hands up in surrender. “And you were the one that said that we love him. I think that was the thing that pushed him over the edge.”

“Clark? Jason? What’s going on? Why is Timmy crying?” Batman asks, rushing into the room.

Jason and Clark both point at each other and shout in unison, “It’s his fault.”

Tim whimpers, “Everyone loves me!” His head falls into his hands, and he continues to sob.

 The bed dips and Tim assumes that Bruce sat on the side. Tim peeks through a gap in his fingers and Bruce smiles back at him. Of course Batman would be able to see Tim peeking at him. Tim closes the gap between his fingers and sniffles.

Bruce clears his throat. His voice is soft and calm. “Emotions can be overwhelming. Sometimes I get a little overwhelmed at how much my family and my friends care about me. Dick’s octopus hugs in particular are the ones that tend to break me.”

Tim feels his heartbeat slow down and when he looks back at Bruce, he’s still smiling. The shaky feeling inside Tim is settling down, so he scoots closer to Bruce. It’s only after he wipes away all his tears that he sees Bruce has a soft black scarf resting on his lap.

 

____

 

Jason has gone to school and come back, and Tim still has his stupid fever. Tim presses an ice pack against the back of his neck, but it needs to be replaced because it’s already warm. He looks over at Dick, Jason, Uncle Clark, Alfred, and Bruce. Bruce had charmed one of the nurses to allow him to drag one of the connected row of chairs from the waiting room into Tim’s hospital room.

On the far-left chair is Alfred. He’s reading something intently on a tablet. His eyebrows are scrunched together like he’s worried, but he’s leaning back, and his legs are crossed in his usually relaxed manner.

Dick is sitting next him, eating a cookie that they gave him after drawing all that blood. There’s a band aid on the crease of his arm. His other arm is around the back of the chair, as he’s staring along with Alfred at the tablet.

Jason’s in the middle seat, reading a worn-out copy of Pride and Prejudice. Tim had asked him a while ago why it’s taking Jason so long to finish the book, and Jason told him that he’s finished it numerous times. He reads certain passages or chapters when he gets stressed out and it calms him down. Reading something familiar makes him feel more grounded and in control, and he can get lost in the drama of the story instead of real-life drama that’s out of his control. Right now, Jason is fully engrossed in the book, and Tim can’t help but notice he’s using the Sepsis info pamphlet as a bookmark.

Bruce is sitting next to Jason. He’s not sleeping, but he’s slumped back in the chair and he’s staring off into space. He’s zoned out enough to not notice Clark using his shoulder for a pillow. If he does notice, he doesn’t seem to care.

Clark is fast asleep, with his eyes closed and his glasses on. He’s not snoring, but he’s breathing heavy enough through his nose to kind of be considered snoring.

Tim sighs, “I’m hot.”

Not-so-zoned-out Bruce answers immediately, “It’s because you have a fever. It’s going to take a while for your body to fight the infection and your fever to break. Do you want some ice chips?”

Tim nods, and his head feels loose and wobbly.

Bruce shrugs Clark off his shoulder, but it doesn’t wake sleeping Superman, instead Clark just slowly tilts over. His torso is long enough to span Bruce’s seat, so that his head reaches Jason’s lap. Jason keeps reading. He holds his book in one hand and uses the other hand to pet Clark’s hair like a puppy.

Bruce hands Tim a cup of crushed ice and while Tim shovels his spoon into the cup, Bruce gently moves Tim’s sweaty hair away from his forehead. Tim hums because Bruce isn’t being very subtle about the sneaky temperature check.

“Hn,” Bruce says, leaving his hand on Tim’s forehead and looking at the vitals monitor screen. “The doctor said that you’re out of the woods once your temperature comes down.”

Tim gasps and pulls away. “Am I going to be okay enough to go back to the amusement park this weekend? We’re supposed to go with you since you’ll finally have time off work, and we can go on all the rides and stuff. It’s the last weekend before all the Halloween attractions are taken down. I need to go back to the arcade to get something too.”

“I’m afraid not. The rides and all the walking will be too much for you. You also have to limit your exposure to germs until you fully recover. You’re on a high dose of antibiotics, but we still need to be extra careful.”

Tim bites his lip, “The claw machine…”

“The claw machine? Do you need me to win you something from the machine?” Bruce asks.

“I need you to buy the machine.”

“You want me to… buy the machine?” Bruce asks, confused.

“Yes, please.”

“I can’t just – it’s not  - ,” Bruce takes a breath, “Why do you want me to buy an entire machine? I don’t even know if I can do that.”

“The bears are trapped in the machine, and I think they would be better off at Wayne Manor. If you use tokens and play until the machine is empty, the arcade guy will just fill it up again. The only way to keep everyone safe is if you buy the machine and all the refill bears they have in the back. If the owner gets mad, you can buy another machine like a ball toss or something else fun, but not a claw machine. We need to save those trapped bears, Bruce.”

Bruce nods slowly.

“Timmy,” he says just as slowly, “I think this might be the fever talking. The high fever might be making you say some bizarre things.”

“I don’t know B,” Dick says. “This is Timmy we’re talking about. There’s a high possibility that he wants you to free the bears. I’d say more than a fifty percent chance.”

Jason chimes in, “I’d go with eighty percent. C’mon, Dad, free the bears.”

Jason and Dick start chanting, Free the bears… free the bears… free the bears.”

The soothing, repetitive melody of Free the Bears pushes Tim right back into dreamland.

It takes another two days for Tim to break the fever, and when he’s finally released. In those two days, Jack and Janet don’t return Bruce’s phone calls and both of their voicemail boxes are full, so they find out about Tim’s hospitalization way after the fact. CPS doesn’t take Tim away from Bruce after the hospitalization, but they give Bruce a stern warning. Tim gives Bruce a tearful apology when he finds out that Bruce got in trouble, but Bruce assures him that everything is okay. They can all use this as a learning experience.

The family is going to have to miss the Halloween celebration at Amusement Mile, but Clark invites everyone to Kent Farm instead, as soon as Tim gets stronger. Everyone is thrilled, and Tim is already planning his strategy as to how he’s going to ask Ma Kent if he can take a baby chick home.

Tim walks out of the car, still wearing his hospital bracelet, and more than eager to get back to the place that’s really starting to feel like home.

Jason helps him to his room because he’s still a little weak and wobbly, but as he walks through his bedroom doorway, he sees a claw machine in the corner of his room. He also sees a giant plastic bag sitting next to the machine, filled with three times as many bears as there are in the claw machine.

“Jason,” Tim asks, looking at the machine and pile of stuffed bears. “Why is the claw machine from the arcade in my room?”

“Oh crap. You must have been rambling because of the fever. You told B to buy the machine and free all the bears so that they could live in a safe, loving home. Our safe and loving home. Are you upset?”

“Am I upset? Are you kidding?” Tim lays down on the plastic bag filled with stuffed friends. “This is the coolest thing ever!”

  

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Bruce buying Tim an entire claw machine is such a mood lol.

Chapter 12: Tim's day in court

Summary:

Tim goes to family court so that he can finally get away from his horrible parents, and he can get adopted by Bruce.

Notes:

Prompt #5 - x+1
This whole story could be 30 times Tim steals a loved one's clothing + 1 time someone steals his, so I tried to think outside of the box to make this prompt work for this chapter. When I saw x+1, my mind went right to algebra lol
Trigger warning for Janet's manipulation and verbal abuse. She really is the worst.

Tim rubs his forehead as he reads the math equation again.

If 3x+10=25, then what is x+1?

Tim’s class is learning algebra in preparation for middle school next year, but Tim’s hospitalization and the few days he had to recover at home caused him to miss the first day his class learned how to do the more advanced equations. It’s been hard to play catchup.

Tim tries as hard as he can to focus on the math problem, but his thoughts keep drifting to the Joker. The Joker escaped Arkham last night, and whenever the Joker is on the loose, Batman gets extra anxious. Jason had to beg him to go on patrol. The only reason Batman finally said yes was because Nightwing joined last night’s patrol and Batman rarely wins arguments against Dick.

Tim refocuses on his math dilemma. He rubs his temples and sighs to himself.

C’mon, you know this. What is x+1? What is x+1?

He squints at the unsolved problem and wonders if it’s possible for a person to give themself a math migraine. He’s definitely giving himself a math migraine.

He groans and lets his head hit the table. Blunt force trauma might help him in his quest to solve for X. Unfortunately, knocking his head doesn’t magically produce the answer he’s looking for, but it does spark an idea.

Tim sits up quickly enough to give himself a headrush, but he ignores that. He knows what he needs to do!

He abandons his notebook as he pushes away from his desk, and races over to the closet. His closet is filled with magical items. He’s got quite the collection now. The one item that he really needs to grab is Dick’s Gotham U hoodie.

He unhooks Dick’s hoodie from its hanger, and rushes to slip it over his head. This magic hoodie belonged to his brother. His brother, the Mathlete. Dick has a few trophies in his room from his time on the Math team. There’s no way that Dick’s award-winning math skills haven’t transferred into the fabric of his magical hoodie. This is the perfect chance to start isolating specific magical qualities and test how they differ in each stolen borrowed piece of clothing.

Tim walks back to his desk, armed with Dick’s magical math hoodie. He shrugs the oversized hoodie onto his shoulders and zips it up. He closes his eyes and attempts to solve the equation again.

When he opens his eyes, the jumbled numbers on the page start to clear, and he confidently writes the number six. He’s not sure if that’s right though. He’ll have to check with someone else in the house to make sure.

He moves to the next equation, but before he gets a chance to solve it, there’s a gentle tap against his door. Since the door is open, Jason sticks his head through the doorway, and then walks into the room.

“Timberoni, it’s time for breakfast. Whoa, you’re doing homework on a Saturday morning before breakfast?”

“I need to catch up,” Tim says while shrugging off Dick’s hoodie, and hoping Jason doesn’t notice.

Jason doesn’t notice. He’s too preoccupied with the claw machine in the corner of the room. The bears have been freed from captivity and now the machine is filled with bags of cookies and chips. There are some candy bars in there too, but the smaller size makes it harder for the claw to grab them.

Jason is fully concentrating on a chocolate bar in the far right corner, so Tim unzips the hoodie and stuffs it under his desk before joining Jason at the machine.

The metal claw traps the candy bar and safely drops it into the prize hole.

Jason shoves his prize into his pocket for later.

“C’mon Timmy,” he says. “If we don’t get to the kitchen soon, Dick and B are gonna eat all the food.”

As they make their way to the kitchen, Tim questions him, “If you’re in such a rush to get to breakfast, why were you playing games for candy?”

“It’s my reward for having to wake up at the crack of dawn. No one should wake up this freakin’ early on a Saturday.”

“I’m used to it,” Tim says with a shrug. “If I didn’t have to go to court today, by this point I would have already woken up, taken the train, and been halfway through gymnastics class.”

“Yeah,” Jason says with a yawn. “And I would’ve been face down on my pillow and deep in Dreamland. That’s another thing we can blame your idiot parents for. They ruined our Saturday. The good thing is that your dad is still under that restraining order so he can’t talk to you. I kinda wished they muzzled your mom too. She’s such a bit – uh, an un-nice woman.”

Alfred clears his throat and Jason sighs, “I stopped myself from saying it Alfie. You can’t be mad. You should be happy. I’m using extreme levels of self-control.”

“I appreciate your efforts, Master Jason. I hope your polite restraint will inspire your older brother. He’s been quite spirited this morning.”

Dick is sitting at the breakfast nook across from Bruce. Both of the men are dressed in appropriate suits for court. Dick is stabbing his fork into his Batman-shaped pancake aggressively.

Pancakes are Tim’s favorite breakfast. The fact that they’re Batman-shaped is even cooler. The fact that Alfred made Tim’s favorite breakfast today makes him love Alfred even more.

Today is going to be a difficult day for Tim. It’s his first court day and the judge is going to decide if Tim can stay with Bruce until the custody trial is over, or if Janet has the right to get temporary visitation. Visitation would be supervised and at Wayne Manor, and Jack wouldn’t be able to come see Tim, due to the restraining order. There’s a tiny chance that the judge could revoke Bruce’s temporary guardianship and take Tim away, and place him somewhere else, but Bruce made Tim a promise that he will never let that happen, and Tim believes him. Batman is rarely wrong about things.

With a plate of pancakes in hand, Tim heads to the breakfast table. Jason slides into the seat next to Bruce and Tim tentatively sits next to Dick.

Dick’s scowl disappears and it’s replaced by a fake smile.

“Good morning, Timmy. How are you feeling?” he asks.

Tim is feeling nervous, anxious, and like racing out of the kitchen with his plate of pancakes and burrowing under the covers on his bed like a hamster. That’s probably not the best thing to say, so he says something equally as strange.

“If 3x+10=25, then what is x+1?”

“Six,” Dick says instantly.

“Thanks,” Tim says, flashing the same fake smile that Dick has. It makes Dick twitch, and his focus quickly shifts back to stabbing his pancakes.

“Yo, Dickface, can you stop murdering your pancakes,” Jason says, pointing his fork at Dick. “If you’re mad at Dad, it’s much more effective to stab him with the fork instead of the poor, innocent pancakes.”

“I’m not mad at Bruce,” Dick mumbles. “I mad at –  ,” he shakes his head, “ – forget it. Can we talk about a new topic?”

Tim knows that this is his chance. He can do this. He has tons of things to tell the family about Michelangelo. So, he proceeds to tell them everything all at once.

“I told Michelangelo that he’ll be moving into the saltwater pond when me and Alfie finish building it, but I think he really likes his tank. When he first got here, he kept digging into the rocks and knocking over his castle, but now he likes it. He stopped trying to overthrow the castle and now he sleeps right next to it. He still hates the mermaid figure. He keeps burying her, and then I have to keep unburying her. I wanted to buy him a treasure chest that opens and closes, but the turtle blog said that bubble treasure chests are dangerous, which makes sense because if I was walking around in normal life and I saw a life-sized toy treasure chest opening and closing, I’d probably try to touch it, and I would get crunched inside too. Oh, and you want to know another cool thing Mikey did? You’re not going to believe this. When I put music on, Mikey moves his mouth and tries to sing. I recorded some of it on my phone. I tried playing different songs and he likes opera the best.”

Tim spends the rest of breakfast playing videos of Mikey “singing” opera, and then telling the family about all the other odd things his pet turtle does. The longer Tim talks, Dick’s fake smile shifts into a real one. Bruce begins to relax too. Even Tim forgets about the stressful day that’s ahead of him in court. The stressful morning turns into an awesome Saturday morning breakfast, eating Batman-shaped pancakes and laughing about turtle behavior.

 

____

 

Janet’s voice echoes through the courthouse lobby as she rushes over to her son.

“Timothy, darling! Mommy missed you so much,” she says with a syrupy sweet tone. Tim is pretty sure that Dick is stabbing Janet-shaped pancakes in his mind.

Janet kisses Tim on the cheek and he bites his lip hard, trying not to flinch. Jack is standing next to Janet. Jack doesn’t speak to Tim – he’s not allowed to – but his eyebrow is raised and he’s looking down at Tim like Tim is dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

The only Drake that seems happy to see Tim, is Princess. She looks adorable in her baby pink vest that has the words Emotional Support written across it. She tries to jump from Janet’s arms into Tim’s arms the moment Janet leans in to kiss Tim. Janet scolds Princess, and the puppy goes back to sitting quietly in her arms.

Tim gives Princess a sympathetic look. He knows how it feels when his mom tells him to stay still. Princess looks just as miserable following that command as Tim does.

“Hi, Mom,” Tim says, blushing when his voice cracks. “Um, Princess looks cute in her vest.”

“You know what I always say, Sweetheart. Appearances are everything.” Janet brushes the front of Tim’s suit jacket, and clicks her tongue in disapproval. “Look at how wrinkled your suit is, Timothy. You would think that in a household with a full-time butler, that you wouldn’t be a wrinkled mess. And speaking of Mr. Pebblesworth, the man must not be very good at his job. Perhaps Bruce should think about replacing him with someone younger and more detail oriented. Age tends to make the mind fuzzy.”

Tim narrows his eyes. No one is allowed to go after Alfred, not even his mom.

“His name isn’t Pebblesworth, it’s Pennyworth. You knew his name before, but maybe age has made your mind a little fuzzy, Mother.”

Janet laughs. The sound is high pitched and reminds Tim of a witch’s cackle.

“A little forgetfulness is expected when you run a multi-billion dollar company like your father and I do.” She follows the humble brag with a wave of her hand. “Well, speaking of Pennyworth, he must be feeding you quite well over there at Wayne Manor. You’re starting to get quite pudgy, young man.”

Tim is too embarrassed to answer, but thankfully Janet turns on her heel and walks away with Jack right at her side.

Tim can hear Bruce trying to calm down Dick. “Keep your cool. She’s trying to bait us. You have to keep your temper in check.”

Dick says something back, but Tim can’t hear it because Jason is talking to him.

“Are you alright, T?”

Tim shakes his head. “She called me fat and wrinkled.”

“She’s a bitter old hag that’s jealous that you have people that love you and are gonna fight like hell to make sure you never have to deal with those clowns again. Plus, she’s a liar. Your suit has a grand total of zero wrinkles, not that it matters at all. She has to be blind not to see that your tiny, malnourished ass needs all the extra muffins, cookies, and birthday cakes that Alfred can stuff into that tiny little body. She’s trying to make you self-conscious because she’s an insecure, manipulative, piece of shit.”

Tim blinks, trying to process what Jason just said.

Jason adds, with a sigh, “And now I owe two dollars to the swear jar.”

Bruce clears his throat.

“I put a hundred-dollar bill in that stupid jar this morning. We’re covered, Jaylad.”

“Hell yeah. Dad’s gone rogue,” Jason says with a look of awe.

Bruce smirks before his face gets serious.

“We all need to treat this like a mission, boys. Stay focused on the goal and clear your head of all distractions. Now let’s go bury the Drakes.”

 

___

 

Janet dabs her eyes with a tissue.

“I had no idea that my precious little baby’s spleen was being sold to that wretched Ra’s al Ghul man. We were told that Timothy needed surgery to get his appendix removed. Jack and I were the victims of an elaborate plan to steal our son’s spleen, and then smear our good name. The only victims here are me and my husband.”

Tim is pretty sure he’s a victim too. He wants to raise his hand and share that thought with the judge, but he’s not sure if that’s how court works, so he’ll save his thoughts for when he’s on the stand and can chat with the judge. She seems like a nice judge.

Janet is continuing to lie and fake-cry, so Tim looks away from her and looks at Uncle Clark, sitting on the other side of the courtroom. He’s wearing a Press badge around his neck and he’s writing something down on a memo pad. Tim is glad that Uncle Clark is there just in case Bruce forgets that he’s not supposed to punch Jack in the face. Uncle Clark held Bruce back from breaking Jack’s jaw once, but Tim hopes he doesn’t have to do it again.

Janet sheds so many crocodile tears that Tim is pretty sure if he collects them all he could fill his turtle tank with his mom’s fake tears. Mercifully, the charade comes to an end, and it’s Tim’s turn. His hands are shaking as he walks to the stand, but the judge smiles at him and it calms some of his nerves.

He’s wearing a pair of Jason’s socks, so he should be able to channel Jason’s bravery. The socks were the first thing – the only thing – Tim was quick enough to snatch without getting caught. Tim is saving Bruce’s scarf for case missions only.

Tim sits up as straight as he can and clears his throat.

“Hi judge. I’m not here to say bad things about Mom and Dad. I could, but that would be rude. Mom and Dad gave me food so I didn’t starve, and a house so I didn’t have to sleep on the streets like my brother Jason, which is really sad because being homeless is really hard and dangerous. Did you know that Bruce Wayne gives a lot of money to make sure that less people are homeless? He bought me a claw machine, you know what a claw machine is, right? It’s one of those machines that you put in coins or a token and you use a joystick to move a claw on the top and when the claw lines up with the toy you want to go for, you press a button and the claw goes down and gets it, and if you lined it up right, you win the prize. Anyway, Bruce bought the whole machine for me because I asked him to when I was making fever induced requests in the hospital, and Mom and Dad never visited me in the hospital because they were out of town, but they never called either, which was really rude because it only takes a second to say “hey kiddo, glad you didn’t die”, but, um, oh yeah, so Bruce bought me a claw machine and then he matched the price he paid with a donation to a charity and he asked Jason if it would be okay to donate money to a children’s shelter in Crime Alley, and Jason said yeah, and Jason cried when he told me and told me not to tell anyone he cried, but I’m under oath, so I can’t lie.”

Tim pauses to take a deep breath because he wasn’t breathing as he said all of that.

The judge smiles at Tim, just like she did before.

“Timothy, are you nervous?”

“Yes, Ma’am. You can call me Tim if you want,” he says, still trying to catch his breath from the rambling story he just told.

“Why?” she asks.

“I don’t want to mess this up.” Tim clears his throat, and his voice is a little stronger. “Can I tell you something?”

 “Yes, you can,” The judge says.

“Okay. When I was little, I used to wonder why my parents didn’t love me. I tried so hard to be good, and say the right things, and do the right things, but it was never good enough. I have a really hard time sitting still, and it’s because I was born that way, and once, during a fancy Christmas gala, Mom promised that if I stayed still during the whole thing that I could go with her and Dad to my very first archaeological excavation site. I didn’t move for like four hours, and I was five years old, so that was really, really hard. After doing what Mom wanted for all those hours, I thought I proved I could go to the excavation site, but instead, Mom and Dad left halfway through the party to go without me. They didn’t even tell me they were leaving the party, or the country, and the waiter that served the really good mini pizzas had to drive me home.”

Tim wipes his eye with his sleeve.

“I always thought my parents didn’t love me because I was the problem. I thought maybe I was born wrong, and I was the kind of kid that no parents could love, or even like, but that’s not true. Bruce likes me. Bruce loves me. I didn’t tell him that I got hurt and because of that, I had to go to the hospital, and he got in trouble. The lady from CPS yelled at him, but Bruce didn’t yell at me. He didn’t tell me that I had to do better. He told me that he needed to do better. Which is weird because he’s already the best, but he’s usually right, so I told him I agreed. Bruce is the best dad ever. I don’t feel like I’m born wrong when I’m with him. I feel like I’m just right. And I like feeling just right.”

Tim looks at Bruce and smiles. Bruce’s eyes are pink and shiny, but he’s smiling back.

The judge nods at Tim.

“Thank you for sharing that, Tim. That was very well said, and for the record, you were not born wrong. You are a remarkable young man. I have heard all I need to on this matter. I will take the testimonies I have heard today from both parties into consideration, and I will make my decision on the temporary guardianship arrangements in the next few days. You may leave the stand, Tim.”

“Thank you,” Tim says, and makes his way out of the testifying booth.

He sits next to Bruce and scoots close to him. Bruce ruffles Tim’s hair and asks, “Can I give you a hug, buddy?”

Tim nods and leans against Bruce’s chest, as Bruce puts an arm around his shoulders. It feels just right.

     

Notes:

I love Tim's rambling stories so much :) The judge didn't rule yet because I have one more thing planned with Jack and Janet. Also, Uncle Eddie wasn't here, but he'll testify in a later court chapter.

Chapter 13: It's raining cats and dogs

Summary:

I haven't forgotten about Princess...

Notes:

Prompt#8 - Rainy day

There must be some unwritten rule that on the rainiest day of the year, there is always a fire drill. Tim is standing in the school playground, with his teacher, his classmates, and the other poor students and faculty that are waiting to hear the all-clear bell so that everyone can trudge back inside the school.

Some of the soaked students have taken refuge under the slide, hoping to stay dry, but the wind is pushing the rain sideways, so there’s really no safe spot to hide. Some of the teachers brought umbrellas, but the heavy wind destroyed the umbrellas almost instantly.

Tim can’t stop shivering and his fingers are starting to go numb. He’s certain that the school doors are going to open any minute – they have to before poor Tim drowns – but someone to his left yells, “Look! That room is on fire!”

Oh no. This is not a drill.

One of the classrooms, thankfully not Tim’s classroom, but close to it, has a thick orange flame flickering against the windowpane. If someone just opens the window, the rain should be heavy enough to put out the fire, but Tim isn’t a firefighter, so it’s best to wait for the professionals to arrive before sharing his opinion.

Fire engine sirens are blaring in the distance, but before Tim can share his advice on fighting the fire with one of the firefighters, all the teachers and students are being led away from the playground and toward Gotham Academy.

Gotham Academy, Gotham’s secondary school, is right next door. The location makes it easy for Alfred to pick Tim up at the elementary school and then swing past Gotham Academy to pick up Jason.

Since the school is on fire, the principal probably thought it was a good idea to send all the elementary school staff and students to the other school, instead of getting drenched even further in the rain.

Everyone is herded into the auditorium and because so many of the elementary students have brothers and sisters that attend Gotham Academy, the older kids are allowed to pick up their younger siblings and take them to class with them. Anyone without siblings stays in the auditorium with their teachers.

“Timmy,” Jason shouts, before running over to him. “Are you okay? I heard there was a fire at the school.”

Tim grabs Jason’s hand because the auditorium is crowded, and it’s making Tim’s chest feel tight and he wants Jason to get him out of here as quickly as possible.

Tim whispers, “I have to get out of here.”

“Sure thing. I’m in science class right now. There’s no actual school going on because of this clusterfuck, but we can stay in the science room since it’s less crowded. Once the firefighters put out the fire, if it’s all clear I’ll go with you to get your backpack and stuff, and then Alfie can drive us home. If they rope off the area with police tape, you’re not getting’ your stuff back until tomorrow the earliest.”

“Do you think it was a villain that set the fire,” Tim asks, as Jason leads him by the hand to science class.

“Nah. Probably someone had one of those E-scooters and it exploded. Those things ignite if you put the wrong kind of battery in there.”

Tim and Jason make a quick stop at the gymnasium, so Tim can take off his wet clothes and borrow the extra set of clothes Jason keeps in his gym locker. After Tim is much drier, and much warmer, he and Jason head to Jason’s science classroom.

The classroom has a mix of Jason’s classmates and a few of their little younger brothers and sisters. The youngest is a little girl that looks about five years old, sucking her thumb and sitting on her sister’s lap.

Tim walks over to a window that faces the elementary school. The fire has spread to a few more school rooms, Tim’s classroom is included, and the tightness in Tim’s chest increases.

Jason is in Robin mode and is trying to calm one of the littler kids that has started crying, so Tim stares at the fire and wonders why it’s burning even though it’s pouring rain.

“Pretty strange,” Jason’s science teacher says from behind Tim’s back. “You would think that fire and water don’t mix, but with enough fuel and oxygen, a fire can burn even underwater. That’s what makes science so fascinating, and so dangerous.”

Tim can see the reflection of the teacher through the window. He’s a tall man with gold-rimmed glasses and a yellow bow tie. He looks like Tim’s favorite science guy on TV.

Tim turns to face the teacher and asks, “Do you know a lot about science?”

“I do. I suppose that’s why the school hired me,” the teacher says with a laugh.

“That’s perfect,” Tim says, his face lighting up. “I have a problem and I need an expert’s opinion, but you have to keep what I tell you a secret. Can you keep it a secret, sir?”

“I can, but if it’s a secret that puts you or anyone else in danger, I may have to tell the principal. You don’t have to call me sir. You can call me Mr. Cook.”

“It’s not a dangerous secret,” Tim says with a smile, but keeps his voice low to make sure Jason doesn’t hear him. Jason’s distracting a few kids by doing a one-handed handstand, but he’s Robin, so Tim can never be too careful when it comes to stealth.

“Okay, Mr. Cook. I’m Tim, Jason’s brother, and I have some magical things at my house. I’m not sure if they’re magical or not. I mean, I’m pretty sure, but I want more proof before I tell my family because Jason said that all his hoodies have magic powers, but I think he was joking, so if I don’t have proof when I tell everybody, they might not believe me, and they’ll probably ask for all their stuff back. You know a lot about science, and science is all about proving things are real or that they work. How can I prove all the things I have are magical? Oh, and before you panic, it’s all good magic, except for the bad hoodie, but I buried that in Alfie’s rose garden. Nothing bad happened to the roses, so I think the hoodie is behaving.”

Mr. Cook makes the most thoughtful face Tim has ever seen. He hums for a moment while he ponders what Tim just said.

“I haven’t come across many enchanted items, but any time I want to prove a theory I use the scientific method. You have your hypothesis, which is another word for educated guess, and that guess is that your brother’s hoodie is magical. The next step is to set up an experiment. Do the same task with the hoodie on and with the hoodie off and compare the results. Also see if the hoodie works on other people besides yourself, if you have access to a friend to help with your experiment. Once you find out if there is actual tangible magic you can go from there. I have a worksheet of how to run an experiment in my desk. You can give one to your brother too. He didn’t do so well on my last test about practices and applications of the scientific method. Most of the students didn’t do well on that test.”

Mr. Cook finds the papers easily because his desk is extremely organized. He hands Tim two worksheets and smiles, “Good luck Tim. Let me know about your findings.”

Tim nods, eager to start his experiments when he gets home, and even more eager to let Jason’s teacher know about his eventual findings. He joins Jason who’s balancing on his feet instead of his hands at the moment.

Jason looks over at Tim and smiles, “You okay, Timmers?”

“Yeah. Mr. Cook is super cool. And you need to study more. If you don’t do better on your next test, we’re both going to be disappointed.”

“Seriously?” Jason says with a laugh. “You can’t be Mr. Cook’s teacher’s pet. He isn’t even your teacher! Come over here you little gremlin.”

Tim runs as fast as he can, laughing hysterically, as Jason chases him across the classroom.

 

____

 

Tim looks through the turtle tank and watches Michelangelo swim upside down. When the turtle does that it always makes Tim laugh, and it also causes Tim to toss an extra piece of shrimp into the tank. Michelangelo loves his veggie diet of algae, but his favorite food is shrimp. Tim keeps a stash of frozen cocktail shrimps in his mini fridge. He’s running low, so he’s going to have to ask Alfred for more. School is canceled tomorrow, so the school can use Friday and the weekend to fully clean up the damage from the fire.

Mr. Cook had mentioned using friends to see if the magic worked on others instead of just Tim. Tim’s best friend is Jason, so he can’t use him as a test subject for obvious reasons, but he can use his newest friend, Michelangelo.

Tim sighs as he writes down his observations in his notebook.

I have submerged the sleeve of Jason’s red hoodie in the turtle tank and Michelangelo hasn’t done anything magical yet. He swam up to the sleeve when I first put it in the water and he tried to eat it, but he only did that for a second and then was done. He also tunneled inside the sleeve and got stuck and I had to rescue him. I think that is the opposite of magical. Conclusion: Jason’s hoodie doesn’t have magical powers, or the magical powers don’t work underwater.

“Thanks for your help, Mikey. I’ll buy you some more shrimp for your participation. The ditto Mr. Cook gave me says that test subjects should be paid for their services, but I think you want food more than money. Turtle high five?”

Tim holds his hand up against the glass and Mikey swims over and bumps his turtle hand against the glass. Tim giggles as he watches Mikey swim laps around the tank.

He watches his friend until Alfred calls him down for dinner.

Dinner is delicious as usual, and the topic of conversation is the fire at the school.

“My money is on a jacked-up e-scooter,” Jason says.

Bruce looks up from the phone on his lap. Alfred has strict rules about no phones or tablets at the dinner table, but Bruce is sneaky enough to get away with hiding his phone. Most of the time.

“That’s a good theory, Jaylad, but the police think it’s faulty wiring in the computer room. At least, that’s what the police files said. And before you ask, I did not hack into GCPD to find out that out. Babs hacked into GCPD files and gave me that information. I’ve also received a phone call that your school will be closed tomorrow and will re-open on Monday but there’s some fire damage to your classroom, Tim, so your class will be relocated to a different room. I’m actually surprised that – ”

Bruce is cut off by his phone ringing.

“Master Bruce, your lap appears to be ringing,” Alfred says, accompanied by a stern eyebrow raise.

Bruce looks like a kid that just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He lifts the phone and squints his eyes.

“I don’t recognize this number.” He answers the call cautiously. “Hello, this is Bruce Wayne. Who am I speaking with?”

The caller is a woman, and she’s loud enough for Tim to hear everything she says through the phone.

“Mr. Wayne, I’m so sorry. My name is Erica, and I didn’t know who else to call. The Drakes aren’t answering their phones, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Erica, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Is there an emergency? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt or bleeding or in danger or anything, but I need your help,” Erica says. It’s easy to hear that she’s crying. “I called the Drakes, but they won’t pick up. I don’t know what to do.”

“You did the right thing by calling me,” Bruce says, putting the phone on speaker. “You mentioned the Drakes. Does this emergency have to do with Jack and Janet Drake?”

“Yes. I’m at Drake Manor and I’m here to check on their puppy, Princess. The Drakes are out of the country on a business trip, and they had to leave Princess behind. They hired me as a dog sitter and said I only need to check on Princess once a week to make sure she still has enough food and water, but that’s cruel to leave her in that big house all alone, so I planned on stopping by to check on her every day, even if they weren’t paying me to do that. So, I went to check on her today, because even though she’s a trained service dog, she’s still a small dog and she might be scared of the storm, you know? Anyway, I go to the house and a tree branch fell against one of the windows and broke the glass, and when I went to look for Princess she was gone.”

Erica sniffs before continuing.

“She’s out, all alone in the storm, Mr. Wayne. I wasn’t sure if I should call the police, but I saw a post-it note on the calendar on the fridge that says emergency contact, and your number is written on it, so I called you first.”

Tim had written that post-it note when he was still living with his mom and dad. He had put it there to remind himself that he could always call his neighbors if there was an emergency that he couldn’t handle himself. Tim used to schedule everything from food deliveries to important dental appointments on that calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Jack and Janet probably have no idea that the small calendar on the side of the fridge even exists. It’s probably undisturbed, still on the month that Tim left the Manor to live with the Waynes.

Tim looks down at the app that’s connected to Princess’s tracker, and it’s blinking that she’s alright. The GPS has her in the wooded area of trees between Wayne Manor and Drake Manor.

Tim shares the information with Bruce and Jason. Bruce sends Jason and Tim out to find Princess, while he heads over to Drake Manor to talk to Erica and also see if he can fix the damaged window.

Tim doesn’t have enough time to run upstairs and grab any of his magical collection, so when Jason grabs a coat, Tim doesn’t grab his own coat, he grabs one of Jason’s coats instead. He’ll pretend that he got confused in the rush if Jason asks later.

The rain doesn’t bother Tim the way it did when he was standing outside of school just a few hours ago. Tim doesn’t care about being wet, or cold, he just cares about Princess, and getting to her as quickly as possible. The only thing that is keeping him from panicking is that the app says her vitals are in a healthy range.

As they race through the sopping wet blanket of trees and bushes, Jason whistles louder than he did at Uncle Eddie’s wedding. Each time he whistles, he follows it by shouting, “Princess! Princess!”

They’re standing over the exact spot that the tracker GPS says Princess should be. Tim spots Princess using a propped-up log, and some fallen tree branches as shelter from the rain. She’s wet, but dry enough to still be soft and floofy. She looks up at Jason and Tim with huge puppy dog eyes, unsure if she wants to leave the warm, dry safety of her hiding spot.

Jason kneels down.

“There you are, girl,” he says in the voice that never fails to calm any human or animal in danger. He stretches out his arms. “Can you come to me? Do you want to live with me and Timmy in Wayne Manor? How does that sound, pretty girl?”

Princess races over to Jason’s arms and barks excitedly. Jason scoops her up and his eyes dart around, checking for injuries.

Tim pets Princess behind her ears during Jason’s quick scan for injuries.

“She’s good, B,” Jason says into his watch.

He opens his coat, and Princess quickly crawls inside to avoid the rain. Jason zips up the coat, keeping the puppy between his chest and the warm, dry fabric, as he walks with Tim back to the house.

Princess definitely lives up to her name, because she has no objections to being bathed, towel dried, and then blow dried (on a low heat setting). Her tail is wagging and she’s happily barking at the blast of warm air from the blow drier.

Jason turns the blow drier on Tim, and Tim makes similar squeaky sounds of happiness.

“This proves it, Timmy. You’re a Pomeranian in a human body.”

“No fair,” Tim says flailing against the wind tunnel of the hair drier. “Princess, attack!”

Princess hops onto Jason’s chest, successfully making Jason lower his hand so Tim is out of blow-drying radius. Princess finishes her attack off by licking Jason’s face, turning Jason into a helpless puddle of laughter.

Notes:

Princess acquired lol. The court chapter was a little heavy so I added some extra fluff in this chapter :) Thank you again, everyone for all the love you keep showing this story! I can't really thank you enough because it feels so great to know you're having fun while reading the story. I appreciate all the comments and I'm having a blast.

Chapter 14: Mission Accomplished

Summary:

Who's ready for turtles?

Notes:

prompt# 17 - Encouraging a s.o. to achieve a goal

Robin’s voice is loud and clear.

“I’ve got eyes on the crates with the turtles. I see three wooden crates, all sealed up tight except for the air holes. What’s the play, squad leader T?”

The rescue mission is going perfectly, so Tim continues with his plan.

“Okay, Robin, you and Batman are closest to the cargo. I need you to unload the crates from the smuggler’s boat and attach them to the hooks on the Bat-boat. Be careful and make sure no one sees you. The last thing we want is a fight. Understood?”

“Copy that,” Robin says, moving with Batman to the crates.

Tim does a quick check-in with the other two team members.

“Nightwing? Batgirl? Do you see anyone suspicious in your area?”

“Nightwing here. That’s a negative, T. Not a soul around. I would even dare to say that this mission is going easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

Tim smiles in agreement. The plan is relatively easy by design. The pet store sold the illegal sea turtles to a secondary buyer, who is in the process of selling them to another shop in New York. The sale has already been completed and the turtles are just hanging out on the transport ship, ready to set sail tomorrow morning. That makes tonight the perfect time for Tim’s Bat team to steal the turtles under the cover of darkness.

“We’ve reached the crates,” Robin says. “B, you want a hand hooking up that – wait, what’s that? What the hell? Look out. Ahhh!”

“What happened?” Tim asks. “Robin, what’s wrong?”

“The crates were booby trapped,” Robin answers back, his voice sounds muffled. “Some kind of green smoke hit Batman in the face. I had enough time to put on my rebreather, but Batman got blasted with a direct hit. The freaky smoke looked like the stuff Scarecrow uses.” There are coughing sounds and then Robin’s voice returns. “B? You okay? Why… why are you looking at me like that? Stop! You’re hurting me!”

“Robin? Oh my god. I’m sending in back up. Nightwing, Batgirl, I need you to get over to Robin’s coordinates and help subdue Batman.”

There’s only the sound of static and Robin’s strangled grunts.

“Robin,” Tim yells, “I’ve lost communication with Batgirl and Nightwing. Can you hear me? Robin? Robin?!”

Tim puts his head in his hands and moans, “This got out of control so quickly.”

Robin balances the Robin Lego figure in his hand on the Lego model of the boat. “That’s how it goes, Timbo. If this were real and not Legos, the team would’ve been in deep trouble. You always gotta check for booby traps.”

Tim slumps against the bed and looks at Lego Batman. Poor Batman’s head and upper torso are sticking out of a shark’s mouth. Tim is pretty sure that there aren’t any sharks in Gotham harbor, so Batman won’t suffer the same fate when Tim leads this mission for real in a few hours.

Jason pops Nightwing’s head off and puts it on Batgirl’s body.

“Alright T, what have you learned from this Lego dress rehearsal?”

“I’ve learned that your Nightwing voice needs work.”

“Lies! Not only is my Nightwing voice pitch perfect, he would totally say something like, easy peasy lemon squeezy. I nailed that shit.”

Tim thinks it over for a moment and then he slumps even further against the bed.

“I got you killed, Jay,” he says softly. “I think Batman got eaten by a shark too. Maybe I shouldn’t lead the mission tonight. What if I mess it up?”

Jason puts down the toy and scoots next to Tim.

“You’re not gonna mess up. You’re gonna be great. I probably took a little too many creative liberties when I connected Scarecrow to the sale of turtles from a random Crime Alley pet store. The real mission is gonna end with far less fireworks than our Lego counterparts had to deal with. Our little play session was just a worst-case scenario.”

“Okay,” Tim says softly.

“Good, now let’s try it again. This time let’s have Batman hanging over a vat of poison and everyone else is unconscious except Batgirl. I need to work on my Batgirl voice.”

 

____

 

Gotham Harbor is dark and deserted. Tim can almost smell the sea water through the giant screen on the Bat-computer. He has four different views of the dock through the eyes of three different domino masks and one Batman cowl.

Tim’s nerves are at an all-time high. This time the mission is real, and he’s sitting in the Batcave leading the team. He’s wearing Babs’s magical hair tie on his wrist, Robin’s yellow cape on his back, and Bruce’s scarf around his neck. Dick’s Gotham U hoodie is too bulky to wear with the cape, so he’s using the hoodie as a blanket over his legs. He’s dressed for success, and for once, he’s warm in the drafty Batcave. His warmth may have something to do with the layers of borrowed clothing.

Tim is staring at the screen with such laser focused attention, that he jumps when Batman addresses him through the comms.

“I’m close enough to start unloading the crates and attaching them to the watercraft transport. Should I proceed with –“

“You mean the Bat-boat,” Nightwing chimes in. “Batman’s boat is called the Bat-boat.”

There’s a frustrated dad sigh, followed by, “Remind me again why I let an eight-year-old name all of my equipment?”

“My names are the best,” Nightwing fires back. “You’re just jealous because you can’t come up with something better than watercraft transport. I’m surprised you came up with a cool name like Batman. I bet you-know-who actually came up with the name.”

“He may have had some constructive input,” Batman admits.

Tim makes a mental note to ask Alfred, after the mission, if he was the one that came up with Batman’s name.

Batman gets the mission back on track. “Squad Leader T, do you want me to attach the cables to the Bat-boat?”

“Yes, but check to make sure the crates aren’t rigged with any traps,” Tim says confidently.

“Copy that. That’s an excellent call, T.”

Did Batman just sound impressed?

Tim jumps out of his chair and does a little happy dance. Batman is impressed with him! In the middle of Tim’s dance, he sees Robin doing the sign language hand symbols for You’ve got this!

Tim sits back down in the Bat-chair. He sits up tall, and knows he’s got this. With Robin hyping him up, there’s no goal he can’t crush.

The crates aren’t booby trapped, and Batman and Robin successfully attached them to the back of the Bat-boat without Batman becoming a fear fueled homicidal mad man. The turtles are locked, and loaded, and ready to start the journey toward their permanent temporary home. Tim and Alfred finished the indoor saltwater pond in the east wing of the Manor, and it’s large enough to house the fifty turtles that are coming to stay. The Bat-boat is a one-seat vehicle, so Batman guides the boat home, while the other three team members decide to punch some criminals for fun.

Nightwing takes the lead as the group of vigilantes head to a bank robbery in progress. Tim sits back and watches his favorite heroes grapple across buildings and flip through the air. Once the team gets to the bank, Tim opens the bank’s numerous surveillance camera feeds on separate screens, and the Bat-computer is filled with every angle imaginable of the fight.

Nightwing, Robin, and Batgirl work perfectly together. It almost looks like a choreographed dance. Tim is mesmerized, until Batman calls out that he’s five minutes away from the house. That leaves Tim just enough time to leap from the Bat-chair and race into his room to toss all of his magical gear into his closet. He barely returns the stolen loot to its hiding place before Alfred pokes his head around the doorway.

“Master Tim? I was in the middle of dusting the cabinets when Master Bruce informed me that he is on his way back to the manor with a few new friends. Would you like me to help you carry Michelangelo to the turtle pond as we wait for his friends to arrive?”

“Yes, please,” Tim says. The turtle tank is a little too heavy for Tim to lift by himself, even if he wasn’t trying not to reopen the wound on his side.

Tim follows behind Alfred as they make their way to the turtle pond.

“Alfie, do you think the turtles will like their new home? You and me spent a lot of time making it nice for them, but that doesn’t guarantee that they’ll like it.”

Alfred sets the turtle tank down on the outer edge of the pond. “I have no experience being a turtle, but if I were to imagine myself as such, I would be thrilled to live in the environment that you and I have so lovingly built.”

Tim looks down at Michelangelo.

“Did you hear that Mikey? Alfie says that you have no reason to complain about your new home. I know it might be different because you’re used to living alone with just me, but you have a big family now.” Tim leans in closer to the turtle tank and whispers the rest. “But if being around too many other turtles is too hard for you, you can come back and be my roommate again. I get really anxious around big crowds too, so if you’re feeling jittery, let me know.”

Batman arrives shortly with the crates of turtles, and by the time he brings all of the crates into the room, the rest of Tim’s team has arrived.

“Dude, this looks awesome,” Jason says. “You and Alfie did a great job. Whoa, is that a mini waterfall over there?”

“Yes,” Tim says proudly. “That was my idea. Dick, can I borrow your gloves? I need to lift Mikey out of the tank, and I’m not supposed to touch him with my bare hands. Did you know that turtles in the wild are okay, but turtles in captivity could be covered with dangerous bacteria like salmonella?”

Dick takes off his Nightwing gloves and hands them to Tim. Tim can barely contain himself. It’s the first time he’s ever gotten a piece of the Nightwing suit, and there’s no way he’s giving it back. All the vigilantes are in their suits, but everyone is staying for tea and mini cakes (Alfred’s after dinner specialty) which means their suits are coming off, and that also means that Dick is probably staying the night, which also means that Dick will be racing out the door tomorrow morning and he won’t double check to make sure he took back the Nightwing gloves, and that’s assuming Dick will remember giving them to Timmy to borrow in the first place. If Dick doesn’t notice the missing gloves until tomorrow night when he's back to Bludhaven patrol, he’ll just grab a backup pair and forget all about the lost ones.

Tim’s plan is almost fool proof. The black gloves with the electric blue finger-stripes are just as good as his!

Tim picks up Michelangelo with a renewed sense of victory, and places him on the side of the pond. The turtle retreats into his shell immediately. Tim sits down, crisscross, and pets his shell. “It’s okay, Mikey. I get overwhelmed too. Let’s do what Jay taught me. Breathe in through your nose for four, hold it for seven, and let out all the air through your mouth for eight. Let’s do it together.”

Tim goes through two rounds of breathing and Michelangelo pops his head out.

“Good job,” Tim says. “Take your time getting comfortable.”

Tim stands and walks over to Batman, who’s working with Jason to empty the first crate into the pond. Batgirl has a hand in the pond, and is coaxing the turtles over to the mermaid’s grotto (the area of the pond that has mermaid figurines placed on the sandy bottom). Alfred is on the other side of the room, getting the red ribbon that Tim is going to cut once all the turtles are in the pond, so that the turtle pond can officially be open.

“Timberini, is Mikey calmed down?” Jason asks.

“Yup. He’s okay now.”

When all the sea turtles are finally settled and swimming happily, Babs crosses her arms and laughs, “You’ve got so many turtles Timmy. Are you going to name them all? And how are you going to know which one is Mikey now that he’s swimming with the others?”

“Mikey’s right there,” Tim says pointing. “I’ll never forget what Mikey looks like. I’ll name them all, but I don’t think I’ll be able to actually remember which one is which, because there’s a lot, but speaking of names, I have an announcement.”

When Tim has everyone’s attention, he looks at Alfred, who gives him a little nod, and Tim proceeds.

“When I was in the hospital, the nurses and doctors took good care of me. I was in the intensive care unit when my fever was really high, but when I was moved into a less intense unit, it was nice. There was a sign on the wall that said I was in the Martha and Thomas Wayne Memorial Wing of the hospital. I wanted to name the turtle pond after special people that passed away like Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, and when I told Alfie, he said it was a great idea, and helped me make the sign.”

Tim nods at Alfred, and Alfred carefully removes a piece of cloth covering the name plaque for the pond.

Tim grins, “Welcome to the John and Mary Grayson Memorial Turtle Pond.”

Dick inhales sharply. His voice is shaking, “Timmy… that’s so… I don’t know what to…” He runs his hand through his hair, which is something Dick always does when he’s nervous. Babs puts a hand on his shoulder, and he looks like he might start crying, so Tim quickly pulls the attention away from his older brother.

“I need to cut the red ribbon to make it official,” Tim says. “Jay, can you hold one side? Bruce can hold the other side so it’s tight and then I’ll cut it.”

“Master Tim, I believe there is one more thing we must do before we can officially open the pond.”

“What, Alfie?”

“Any important ribbon cutting ceremony should at least have one member of the press available to document the experience. I took the liberty of inviting a reporter.”

Clark steps into the room, with his Clark Kent glasses on and his press badge hanging around his neck.

“Howdy,” he says. One hand is gripping a memo pad, and the other has a camera. “Alfred called me to cover the opening of the John and Mary Grayson Memorial Turtle Pond. Can all of you scoot in close so I can get a shot of everyone?”

The Batfamily, including Babs, smile for the camera. (Tim holds his hands behind his back because he forgot to take off the Nightwing gloves, even though everyone else is half dressed in their Bat-gear so Tim wouldn’t look too out of place)

After a few serious pictures, the group takes a few casual shots. Nightwing hoists Tim on his shoulders, which Tim answers with a high-pitched squeak followed by uncontrolled giggles. Tim rests his chin on the top of his brother’s head and wraps his arms around Dick’s neck. Dick’s voice is soft, almost a whisper.

“Thank you for naming the pond after my parents. That was very sweet of you to do. I’m so lucky to have the best little brothers on the planet.”

Jason scoots in close and puts his arm around Dick, pretending to hug him, but leaning in close so that he can whisper to Tim and Dick without anyone else hearing.

“When B wasn’t looking, I put a dead fish I found at the docks in one of the pockets of his utility belt. If he doesn’t find it tonight, which I’m sure he won’t, it’s gonna start to smell.”

Dick laughs, “You do realize that this could be the start to a very aggressive prank war. When I was nine, I started a prank war with B, and you’d think he would hold back because I was a kid, but he straight up destroyed me. He’s brutal.”

“Nah, I aint afraid of the old man, plus I’ll tell him it wasn’t me. I’ll tell him that the fish probably swam in there when he wasn’t looking.”

“A dead fish swam into his utility belt?”

“Okay, Dickie, when you say it like that it sounds kind of sus. Maybe I’ll tell him you did it.”

“What? You little – I take everything back. I have one angelic brother and one little gremlin.”

“Who you callin’ little, Dickhead?”

“You, Little Wing!”

“Alright, big smiles on three,” Clark says. “One, two…”

  

 

Notes:

Tim has finished his mission and it's a success!

Chapter 15: When the gala is a lie

Summary:

Tim is ready to go to the gala with the Waynes, but tonight's party isn't at all what he expected.

Notes:

prompt #31- Dreams do come true

 

Tim pets Princess’s soft fur as he sits on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Princess is laying on Tim’s chest and acting as the world’s best weighted blanket ever.

Tim sits up, letting a sleeping Princess slide down his chest and into his lap. Princess is not bothered in the slightest by the movement, and certainly not even considering ending her nap.

Tim looks longingly at the Robin cape, laying at the foot of his bed. He really wishes he could wear his borrowed/stolen Robin cape, but the dress code for tonight’s gala is formal, and a bright yellow cape doesn’t quite fit that description.

Jason knows that Tim kidnapped the cape, so Tim usually keeps it on his desk or on his bed if he’s planning to use it as a blanket cocoon during homework, or internet scrolling. Jason has accused Tim of being a cape thief and Tim insisted that the finders keepers rule was in effect when he swiped the cape. For all of Jason’s complaining, he never seriously demanded it back. Tim takes that as a sign that Jason really wants him to have it.

All of the other magical clothing items are tucked out of sight in Tim’s closet. His collection is continuing to grow at a steady rate now, and his prized item is the pair of Nightwing gloves. It’s not technically a magical hoodie, but having a piece of the Nightwing suit is magical in a class all by itself.

Dick had returned to live in Bludhaven a while ago, so Tim has had free reign over the hoodies Dick left behind for a while now. Tim has already helped himself to three hoodies (he decided to pace himself and not get too greedy), but for some reason, Tim doesn’t have as much self-control over Jason’s stuff. He stole ten of Jason’s hoodies when Batman and Robin were out on patrol one night, but he returned them all before Jason got back. He re-stole five the next day, but he’s too scared to go back into Jason’s room, fearing that he’ll empty his brother’s entire closet.

Tim looks down at the ball of fur in his lap and wonders how much longer it’s going to take for his mom and dad to call to check on her. It’s been over a week since Tim and Jason saved Princess from the rainstorm. Not only do Tim’s parents not know about Princess’s escape or dramatic rescue, his preoccupied parents also don’t know about the damage to their house from the storm. Bruce was nice enough to arrange for the window repair people to come, and he even had to pay them. Thanks to Bruce, Drake Manor was saved from random animals parading into the house through a shattered window.

Tim laughs at the idea of a raccoon chewing on the obscenely expensive couch in the main living room. Janet had that ugly couch delivered via private jet from a small town in Italy.

As much as Tim doesn’t want to, he has to get off the bed and get dressed. He carefully places Princess aside, puts on his suit, wraps Bruce’s scarf around his neck, and heads downstairs to join the rest of his family.

Bruce, Jason, and Dick are all laughing at something. Even Alfred is joining in the fun with a wide smile. No one has noticed Tim and for some reason, Tim stops walking instead of continuing to approach. He remembers a time, not that long ago, when he wasn’t part of the family, and had to look at Wayne family scenes like this as an observer through the lens of a camera, or from a few tables away at a fancy gala.

Tim isn’t truly part of the family yet, and a part of him isn’t sure if he should interrupt this family moment, or if he should just wait for a more appropriate time to make his presence known.

He errors on the side of politeness, and waits, fiddling with the last button on his suit jacket. He’s not wearing a tuxedo, but three-piece suits are almost as bad. He spins the jewel on one of his cuff links and releases a heavy sigh. The jewel is loose enough to fidget with. Jason has the same pair of cuff links and taught him that trick.

Eventually Tim is noticed. Jason immediately tells him the joke everyone was laughing about, and the uneasy flutters in Tim’s stomach settle. He doesn’t feel like an outsider anymore.

For tonight’s gala, Alfred is coming along, so Princess will have full run of the house. Bruce shares his concern about this fact, but Tim assures him that Princess will probably still be asleep when they get home. A princess nap usually lasts for a few hours.

Everyone piles into the car, and they head to the gala. Alfred is driving, and Bruce is sitting in the passenger seat, which leaves Dick, Tim, and Jason in the backseat. Tim is lucky to get a window seat, and he stares through the window at the trees lining the side of the road as Alfred drives down the highway. Jason is sitting in the middle seat, checking emails on his phone, and Dick is doing the same thing.

They’ve been on the road for a few minutes and Tim finds it odd that Alfred or Bruce haven’t turned on the radio. A minute later Bruce breaks the silence by clearing his throat.

“Tim,” he says, pausing until Tim meets his eyes in the reflection of the rear-view mirror. “I have something to tell you. We are not going to a gala tonight. There is no gala, that was a lie, and now I can reveal the true plan for tonight.”

Tim takes a moment to think about Bruce’s words and then it hits him. Tim couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, like there were a few pieces of a puzzle missing, but now, everything makes sense and all the puzzle pieces slide into place. This is Tim’s dream come true.

“It’s happening,” Tim gasps. “It’s really happening!”

Bruce looks back at Tim, confused, but Tim barrels on.

“I’m so ready for this, Batman. I know exactly what we’re doing. This is my team initiation. Oh my God, what is it going to be? Are you going to tie me up and throw me into the trunk and I have to escape before I run out of air? Sometimes I get anxious in small, dark places, so I’ll have to try really hard not to hyperventilate because that will use up the limited air supply. Oh, wait, maybe the initiation is the one where you drop me off in the woods and I have to survive the night. I don’t have Robin combat training, so if you give one of your villains my coordinates, I don’t think I’ll be able to fight them off. I’ll have to use my brain to find a way to survive. Not that you would let me get killed, but if a team member has to step in so that Poison Ivy doesn’t strangle me with a vine, that means I failed the test. Oh my gosh, do I get weapons like bat-a-rangs and smoke bombs? Smoke bombs won’t help me if we’re doing the gagged and bound in the trunk thing, it would just make it worse, but a bat-a-rang would be really helpful to cut through the ropes. Wait, maybe it’s a test of my psychological strength. You’re going to blow fear toxin in my face, aren’t you? You’re going to see if I can resist the horrors of seeing hallucinations of my worst fears and –.”

“Tim, no,” Bruce interrupts. “I’m not going to – how could you think that I would do any of that? Is that how you think I trained Dick and Jason?”

Tim bites his lip and nods.

“Timbo, you watch too many movies,” Jason says with a laugh. “Early Robin training consisted of sparring with Dick and Bruce, and they both pulled their punches so much that it was kinda boring, and then there was a lot of paperwork about the moral code, ya know, things like, don’t kill and don’t take bribes from criminals, and stuff like that.”

“No blood oaths?” Tim asks.

“No blood oaths, T.”

“Oh. Okay…,” Tim says feeling unsure, “So, if my survival skills aren’t being tested, then where are we going?”

Bruce turns in his seat so he’s facing Tim.

“My lawyers called yesterday and told me that the judge had ruled on the case. My temporary guardianship over you can stay, and it will be extended until the end of the trial. Janet’s visitation rights have also been revoked, so you aren’t required to see her. This is the first step toward formally adopting you, Timmy. We still have a long way to go, but this is definitely a victory.”

This is so much better than being dropped off in the woods with only a flashlight and a compass, and a random villain hunting him down. A minute ago, Tim was excited to prove why Batman should give him a spot on the team, but now Tim is one step closer to being a part of the family, and he doesn’t even have to prove himself. This actually qualifies as a dream come true. He wants to speak, but he can’t stop smiling. Bruce is just as speechless, so Dick takes over.

“We need to celebrate this awesome milestone at somewhere super awesome, so you get to choose where we go to dinner, buddy. We’re all dressed up, so you can pick the fanciest restaurant in Gotham if you want.”

The most expensive restaurant in Gotham is The Golden Spoon. The restaurant is in Bristol East, the high-end district. It’s a reservation only place, but Tim is sure that a table is always available for someone like Bruce Wayne.

Tim opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Bruce says gently, “Anywhere you want, buddy.”

Tim’s face heats up with a deep blush and he tries his best not to mumble.

“I’d like to go to Batburger please.”

Dick and Jason cheer, and Bruce laughs, “We may be a little overdressed for that, but very well. Alfred, take us to Batburger.”

 

____

 

“Daaad, stop being weird,” Jason says, throwing a fry at Bruce.

Bruce easily catches the fry in his hand, because he’s Batman.

“I’m not being weird, Jaylad,” he says, eating the fry projectile. “If it’s against the rules to use a fork and a knife to eat my burger, then Batburger wouldn’t have provided me with utensils.”

“The forks are for salads, and the knives are for stabbing people who use a knife and a fork to eat a freakin’ hamburger!”

Bruce launches a fry back at Jason – bat-a-rang speed – and Jason catches it easily in his mouth. Tim takes a bite of his burger and can’t believe this is his life right now. A year ago, the thought of having a family meal with the Waynes at Batburger was just a dream, but Tim is starting to learn that all of this is real, and maybe, if he crosses his fingers hard enough, his wish of being a member of the Bat family might actually come true.

Tim continues to devour his burger and watches the entertainment. Bruce and Jason are arguing about the proper way to eat a burger. Dick is showing Alfred the Batman figure he got in his kid’s meal and how to make the figure do a high kick or a karate chop by pressing different buttons on the toy’s back.

(Dick bought the meal specifically for the toy, and he also bought a few extra hamburgers to go with the meal because a kid’s meal isn’t even close to enough food for a full-time vigilante)

The fast-food feast ends with Dick declaring, “I’ve got a ton of time before I have to get back to Bludhaven for patrol. We should go for dessert. I know a place that has the best cupcakes ever. It’s way uptown in Bristol East, but we’re technically dressed for it. We should so go there.”

So, they do.

They go to Cupcake Paradise, an exclusive sit-down restaurant that only serves dessert. They order cupcakes and cookies and just about every other sweet pastry on the menu. Dick tells the corniest jokes he can think of, and Tim laughs harder than he has in his life.

After dinner and dessert, the family fun comes to an end. Dick heads back to Bludhaven to keep the city safe, and Bruce and Jason head off for their nightly patrol of Gotham as well. Alfred takes control of the comms from the Bat cave for a while before eventually tending to the chores of the house.

Tim sits in his room, on his bed. He’s hard at work as well.

Tim’s case involving the turtles is almost closed. He still has a funny feeling about the pet store owner having a giant leopard, and he needs to find a way to convince Jason to go back with him to the pet store to investigate that, but the turtle aspect of the case is pretty much closed. The last thing that needs to be done is the summary report and a bit more paperwork, but that’s the fun part.

Tim is working on the coolest PowerPoint presentation ever. He’s only half-way finished, but when he rehearsed it, the presentation took three hours and forty-seven minutes. Batman appreciates thoroughness, but Tim was told that Batman would only sit for a two-hour presentation at max. That means Tim needs to shave off major time already. He could take out the music video of the sea turtles swimming to the song Turtle Power, but that’s his favorite part of the presentation. He’ll have to find cuts elsewhere.

Princess distracts Tim momentarily from his editing dilemma. The puppy has one of the teddy bears that Tim rescued from the police station in her mouth. She’s already carried the other six bears to her doggie bed and piled them up. It’s been a nightly routine that Princess brings every loose plushie she can find and deposits them all in her bed. She then burrows into the nest of softness and sleeps. Tim freaked out the first time Princess did that because he couldn’t find her in the mound of squish, and a crushing wave of panic made it impossible to breathe. Princess immediately jumped out of her plushie fort and started to lick his hand. Hand licking is one of the actions she was taught to calm a person during a swell of anxiety.

Tim doesn’t want to deal with editing right now, so he helps Princess gather up more stuffed animals to fill her bed. Tim’s puppy wags her tail happily. She gives her helper a few barks of appreciation.

“I think you should stay in my bed with me tonight, Princess. It’s supposed to be really cold tonight and you don’t have a heated blanket on your bed like I do. If you don’t want to stay with me, I could put a hot water bottle in your bed like I did last night.”

Princess answers by hopping into Tim’s arms and using the height to hop onto the bed.

“Whoa. I didn’t know you could do that. Did Nightwing teach you that acrobat move,” Tim asks, while he carries his laptop over to the bed.

He sits crisscross, with the laptop in front of him. Princess snuggles next to him, using his thigh as a pillow.

Tim gets back to work on his Bat-homework.

The work session consists of adding more stats and flashy graphics rather than trimming down unnecessary info, but Tim actually finishes the PowerPoint, so he’ll take that as a win. Making it less than six hours is a tomorrow problem, and speaking of tomorrow, Tim needs to be well rested because he has an important after-school mission with Jason.

Tim yawns and makes a deal with himself that he’s just going to check his favorite Bat blog for no more than ten minutes and then go to bed. Tim gets lost in a fascinating discussion debating who would win in a fight between Batman and Darth Vader. Darth Vader has a lightsaber and the force, giving him a clear advantage.

Tim never finds out the answer because Alfred knocks on the door and demands if Tim doesn’t go to sleep this instant, there will be no cheese danish for breakfast, only plain, unsweetened oatmeal. Alfred’s threat is followed by a stern look, so Tim pulls up the covers and promises to go to sleep.

Tim isn’t sure who would win in a fight between Batman and Darth Vader, but he’s sure that if the fight were between Alfred and Darth Vader, Alfred would win easily. Not even the Dark Lord of the Sith has a chance against Alfie’s death glare.

Notes:

Tim was ready to go into wilderness survival mode lol.
My goal has been to write at least one aww moment per chapter, but the next chapter is probably the fluffiest of the story, so I'm really excited about it!
Thanks so much for continuing to shower this story with all of your awesome comments, kudos, and extra kudos. It means so much to me ❤️😊

Chapter 16: Sharing is caring, especially when it involves magic

Summary:

Tim helps Jason with a very important task, and everyone's favorite teacher makes another appearance :)

Notes:

Alt Prompt - give your character a new occupation. In this chapter Tim's new occupation is assistant chef. (I'm reaching so hard on this prompt lol)

Tim can barely contain himself during school. The mission he has planned for after-school, with Jason, keeps playing on repeat in his head. At lunch time, he peeks at his phone and the message from Jason does nothing to calm him down. The text is two words, Almost Time. Tim keeps repeating those words, in his head and sometimes accidentally out loud, for the rest of the day.

Tim stares at the clock.

There’s one tortuous minute of school left. He waits for the last digit on the digital clock to tick from a nine to a zero. At long last, the last minute of school expires, and Tim jumps out of his seat and races to the area with the backpacks. Tim adds the books he needs for homework into his backpack, and makes sure that the added books don’t wrinkle his apron.

For today’s mission Tim doesn’t need a vigilante suit or a disguise, all he needs is Alfred’s magical apron. Today’s mission is to help Jason at the Crime Alley soup kitchen. It’s the time of year that people without a safe place to stay, or enough food to eat, really need an extra hand. When Jason and his mom were struggling to survive, the soup kitchen was the only place they could get an emergency meal, so volunteering to help at the meal center is extremely important to Jason.

Tim yells to his teacher, “I’m going to the soup kitchen to help my brother,” as he runs toward the door. He gets a smile from his teacher, and runs down the hall to the main entrance. Kids are streaming out of the doors, but through the crowd, Tim spots Jason leaning against a spot next to the door that’s safe from kids racing to get to cars and buses.

“Jason,” Tim shouts and Jason looks up.

“Timmy! You ready?” Jason asks.

Tim stops short of Jason and bounces on his toes. If he were any readier, he would explode. He’s also so amped up that his mind and body are both a little overwhelmed, so a hug or even holding hands is a bad idea.

Tim sticks his hands in his pockets and Jason reads the movement immediately.

“C’mon,” Jason says, being careful not to even put his hand on Tim’s shoulder, or even ruffle his hair.

Tim is thankful, but he still feels jittery. When the two boys reach their bikes, Jason hops on his bike, but Tim just stands there. His feet don’t want to move, but he’s not quite paralyzed because he’s shaking from his head all the way down to his toes.

Tim squeezes the straps of his backpack. When he starts to speak, even his voice is shaking.

“I’m sorry. I just need a minute.”

Jason hops off his bike and shakes his head.

“No apologies necessary. I get really excited before missions too. The first time I worked with Dickie, I was equal parts super excited and super scared. I thought Dickie was gonna make fun of me because I was shakin’ like a leaf. He didn’t make fun of me, instead he told me it happens to him too sometimes, cuz adrenaline’s a bitch, and that the best cure is to literally shake off the jitters.”

Jason shakes his wrists and hops up and down, cracking his neck from side to side. Tim takes off his backpack and follows along, copying Jason’s movements. When Jason stops hopping, he shrugs his shoulders up and down. Tim feels the tension in his neck loosen up when he does the shoulder shrugs. When Tim and Jason get to the part where they’re balancing on one leg, while shaking the other in the air, Tim has to put one hand on the bike rack for balance.

Tim starts to sing Shake It Off and Jason groans, “Not you too! Dickhead sings that song every time I team up with him and need to shake off adrenaline. He doesn’t just sing the chorus either, dude knows the whole song. I really shouldn’t be surprised that my brother’s a fan of Taylor Swift.”

“I know the whole song too,” Tim says proudly, as he shakes his left foot. “Mom and Dad gave me a debit card to use for important things like lunch money for the cafeteria, but they would never leave enough money on the card, or they would use the card and forget that I needed it, and when I’d go to the ATM there would be nothing left, so I would have to call the bank to transfer the money from Dad’s account to the debit card, and I made friends with the lady on the phone, and she would tell me all about her kids while she transferred the money, but one day the bank moved her to another bank and the new woman I got on the phone wasn’t as friendly. She wasn’t mean or anything, but she didn’t like to talk, so she would put me on hold and the hold music was always Shake It Off, so after hearing it a billion times, I memorized it.”

“You didn’t have enough money to buy food because your parents negligently drained your only card repeatedly,” Jason deadpans.

“Um, that wasn’t exactly the point of the story, but… yes?”

Jason takes a step toward Tim to give him a hug, but Tim takes a quick step back. They both stand there looking at each other and now things are awkward.

Jason sighs, and starts singing, and suddenly things aren’t awkward anymore.

Once the tingly buzzing feeling leaves Tim’s hands and feet, he lets Jason know, and they hop on their bikes and race each other to the soup kitchen. Tim wins the race, but he’s almost positive that Jason let him win.

Tim is greeted by the delicious smell of baked sweet potatoes topped with baked marshmallows. There’s a faint smell of turkey gravy too, but it’s not as strong (or delicious) as the sweet potato casserole. It’s one of Tim’s favorite foods ever since the cafeteria started serving it for lunch.

Tim looks around the room and it’s filled with tables. Most of the tables are full of people eating and the air is buzzing with dozens of conversations. Tim can’t wait to start cooking! A man in a beanie hat, a heavy coat, and a thick wool scarf looks up from the soup he’s slurping. He waves at Tim. Tim smiles wide and waves back.

The boys make their way toward the back of the building because that’s where the kitchen is.

“Okay, Timmers, I’m gonna help out back, unloading the trucks. This place gets a ton of food donations, and they can always use someone with muscles. I’m gonna leave you in the kitchen. Make sure you follow the head cook’s instructions and if you start feeling weird or that cut on your stomach starts to hurt, either come get me in the back or send one of the volunteers from the kitchen to come get me.”

Tim nods, but his attention is quickly stolen by the man standing right next to him. The man is taller than Bruce, and dressed in a navy-blue military Marine’s uniform. Tim looks all the way up and the military officer looks down to meet Tim’s eyes.

Tim stands up as straight as he can and salutes the man. He keeps his hand in the salute position and smiles. “Thank you for your service.”

The marine smiles back, “My pleasure. I’m here with Toys for Tots. It’s an organization that collects toys and gives them to boys and girls that otherwise wouldn’t have a toy for the holidays. Would you like one?”

He points at the cardboard box that’s labeled Toys For Tots. Tim shakes his head.

“No thank you, sir. I’m here as a helper, so those toys aren’t for me, even though I love toys. My mom says I’m too old for toys, but Bruce says her opinion doesn’t mean anything because she’s a horrible mother and deserves to be in prison, but it’s okay because I get to live with Bruce and Alfie and my brothers. I have a lot of stuffed toys at home and I can bring like a huge trash bag worth of stuffed animals to donate, and I’m not even exaggerating, I have that many, but my dog Princess likes to put all of them in her dog bed so she’d be so angry if I took them away, even if I told her the stuffed animals were going to kids that never had a stuffed animal before. I promise I’ll ask Bruce if he can take me to the toy store and we can buy new stuffed animals to put in your box because kids need stuffed animals.”

The Marine smiles, sharing a glance with Jason and then looking back at Tim. The officer squats all the way down to sit on his heels, but Tim still has to look up. The soldier’s smile disappears, and his eyes are as sharp as steel.

“Kindness is one of the most valuable qualities of any soldier or civilian. Your future donation will be greatly appreciated.”

Tim feels his face heat up and he bites his lip as he nods.

The man winks before standing back up to his full height, and going back to guarding the cardboard box of toys.

Tim eventually makes it to the kitchen, and the area is filled with people stirring smoking pots, or chopping vegetables, or various other stages of cooking a homecooked meal.

Jason calls over a woman rolling out dough with a wooden rolling pin, and says a quick goodbye to Tim. Jason is gone before the woman walks over, so Tim introduces himself.

“I’m Tim,” Tim says shrugging his backpack off his shoulders, and unzipping it. He pulls out Alfred’s apron and ties it around his waist and neck as he continues to introduce himself. “My brother Jason told me that you need help in the kitchen and I’m here to help.”

“Pleased to meet you Tim. Everyone here calls me Mama Nan. How old are you, sweetie?”

“I’m ten,” Tim says proudly.

“Well, aint that something. Alright ten-year-old Tim, you’re still a bit little to be handling a knife, so why don’t you walk with me over here to the potato peeling station and you can peel some potatoes. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great Mama Nan!”

Mama Nan takes Tim’s backpack and hangs it with the coats and bags that belong to the other kitchen helpers.

Tim happily peels potatoes with his peeling tool, until there’s no more left. He rinses off the tool when Mama Nan brings him a bowl of carrots to peel, and starts on the new task. The carrots don’t peel the same way that the potatoes do. With the potatoes, Tim shucked off the outer brown skin, and discarded it, but with the carrots, he needs to keep the part he peels off so it can be added to the other meals, like the coleslaw.

The more Tim peels, the more he notices that the peeled part looks kind of cool. It’s like a curled ribbon.  There’s a bowl of fruit next to him, so he takes a red apple out of the bowl and starts to peel it. He peels a long strip of the skin, and when he curls it in his hand it looks like a rose.

Tim runs over to show Mama Nan the apple peel rose and the woman squeals, “Oh Timmy. That’s so precious. Did you come up with that yourself?”

Tim nods and Mama Nan puts her hands on her hips.

“Tell you what, Mr. Timmy, I’m taking you off carrot peeling duty and I’m moving you to apple rose making. Your little roses are gonna make everyone smile the second they see them on their plates, and if there’s one thing that I’ve said before, it’s that a meal always tastes better when you eat it with a smile.”

Tim is practically floating on air when he starts to make more apple peel roses. Not only did he get a compliment from Mama Nan, but he’s also proven that Alfred’s apron is magical. He’s positive that he was inspired to create the roses from the magic of the apron.

After making dozens of roses, Tim excuses himself to use the restroom.

On his trip back to the kitchen, he passes the main serving line where a few volunteers are wearing hairnets and dishing out food to a line of people with trays. Tim is about to turn toward the kitchen but a familiar man with gold rimmed glasses, a plastic apron, and a green bow tie waves at Tim.

Tim runs over to the man.

“Mr. Cook!”

Tim is bursting with happiness to see Jason’s science teacher again.

“Timmy,” Mr. Cook says, scooping up a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto a tray. “How are you doing? How is the magical science experiment going? Come around to this side of the serving line so we can talk more easily.”

Tim comes around the serving side and Mr. Cook asks the man next to him if he could take over mashed potato scooping so he can talk to Tim for a second. The man agrees and when Tim has Mr. Cook’s full attention Tim bounces on his toes.

“Mr. Cook, I’ve been running tests like you taught me, and I have a lot of positive data, but guess what happened today! I was helping in the kitchen, and I came up with the idea to make roses out of apple peels, and I never had an idea like that before. It’s because the apron is magical.”

The teacher smiles broadly, “Scientific confirmation through experimentation. You’re becoming quite the junior scientist, Timmy. I’m so excited for you. Have been keeping detailed records of your findings?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. I’m happy that the apron helped your cooking skills. I myself don’t have much luck in that area. If only cooking dinner came as easily to me as mixing chemical solutions. Unfortunately, I’m a mess in the kitchen. I assume that’s why I’ve been assigned to the server station instead of the cooking station. I’m not complaining though. When Jason told me that this fine establishment needed volunteers, I was more than happy to assist.”

Tim snaps his fingers.

“I have an idea,” he says. “You told me that I need to test the magical powers of the clothing on different people. You could take my apron and cook something when you get home. If it comes out great that will be more proof of the magic.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Mr. Cook says. “I’ll bring the apron to school with me tomorrow and when I see Jason in class, I’ll tell him that his little brother left his apron at the soup kitchen, and I found it and would like for him to return the lost apron to you.”

“You’re a genius,” Tim squeals.

“Well, technically yes. My IQ is in the accepted range for geniuses, but more importantly, I’m happy to help increase the data set size of your experiment.”

Tim unties his apron and hands it over to Mr. Cook. The apron once belonged to Alfred so it’s always been a little big on Tim, but it should fit Mr. Cook much better.

The smartest teacher that Tim has ever met nods, “I’ll leave a note with my discoveries in the pocket of the apron. I’m sure Jason won’t find it, but if he does, I’ll make sure to write my findings in a vague enough manner that you will understand, but he will not.”

Mr. Cook goes back to mashed potato scooping and Tim goes back to the kitchen. Tim gets lucky because he gets back right before Jason shows up to check on him.

“Is everything okay, T?” Jason asks.

“Everything’s perfect, Jay!”

 

____

 

Tim is sitting on the side of the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. Bruce is sitting next to him with his phone in his hand between them. Bruce uses his thumb to scroll the screen down, and pauses on a fuzzy gray penguin squishy.

“This one looks nice,” he says. “Should I add it to the cart?”

“Can you make it bigger?” Tim asks, leaning in closer to the phone, but still hugging his knees.

Bruce spreads his finger and thumb to increase the size of the stuffed animal until it fills the screen, and Tim hums.

“I think we should get it,” Tim says. “We don’t have any penguins and every tot needs a penguin toy.”

“Hn,” Bruce says with an affirmative grunt. He adds the penguin to the cart and the basket icon on the top left corner ticks up from seventy-one to seventy-two.

Notes:

The next few chapters take place during the Thanksgiving holiday, and that's mainly because it's a time that Tim and Jason have off from school so it makes the plot sooo much easier. In the spirit of being thankful, I want to thank everyone who has followed along with this story so far. It make me so happy to share this story and I'm so thankful I have the added bonus of people actually liking it :D

Also, there's definitely something still going on at the pet store and Tim will have a chance to get involved and then get in way over his head, but the fact that this story needs to be 31 chapters to complete the challenge, I have a chance to do a little side shenanigans, so that's what we'll do first lol.

Chapter 17: The Dark Knight Saves the Princess

Summary:

If you thought Janet was bad...

Notes:

Prompt #30 - self-worth

Tim closes the car door and slides into the backseat. It’s a cold, windy day, so the heated seats are extra nice today. Alfred offers his usual greeting and the two fall into the same conversation they have every time Alfred picks him up from school.

“Hello, Master Tim. How was school today?”

“Fine. How was your day?”

“Quite well. Thank you, my dear boy, for asking.”

Tim and Alfred exchange smiles, and Alfred continues to drive to Gotham Academy to pick up Jason. Gotham Academy is right next door to Tim’s school. (Jason made the joke that he and Tim are destined to be neighbors one way or another, and it always makes Tim laugh)

Tim has told Alfred many times that he can walk to Jason’s school so it would be easier to pick up both boys at the same place, but Alfred insists that it is no problem at all to make the extra trip.

The trip to Gotham Academy is so short that Tim barely has time to check his phone. Dick sent him an animation of a potato lifting a barbell. It’s a random gif with no context, but that’s not unusual for Dick.

Tim is about to text back, but the cold breeze from the door swinging open almost makes him drop his phone. The phone bounces from one hand to the other, as Jason flops down on the seat next to him.

“Hey Alfie, hey Timber, we gotta get home fast. There’s been a rare daytime Joker sighting, so B called me and said we need to check it out. B’s already at the location, so I gotta run downstairs, get suited up real quick, and meet him there. Which sucks, because if he let me keep an extra suit in my locker, like I’ve been begging him to, I could’ve just hopped on the roof and grappled over there. This is why B needs to listen to me instead of making all the decisions. He should change his name from Batman to Micro-manage-man. I’m starting to understand why Dickie moved to Bludhaven.”

Tim fiddles with the zipper on his backpack.

“Maybe Batman doesn’t want you to a have a Robin suit in your locker because if anyone found it, your secret identity would be leaked. Anyone could break into your locker, and even if it wasn’t a break in, a janitor could hear your emergency beacon going off and janitors have keys for like everything, so they could easily open your locker and find the suit.”

“Really, T? You’re taking the old man’s side on this?”

“Um, yeah? I mean no. You’re right, Jay. Batman is being unreasonable,” Tim says, backing down immediately.

Jason raises an eyebrow, “I’m not sure if you’re genuinely afraid to disagree with me, or if you’re doing some reverse psychology thing on me. Ugh, I sound as paranoid as B. His worst traits are transferring to me like some kind of weird Bat diffusion.”

“What does diffusion mean?” Tim asks.

“It’s a science term. It’s how things transfer from one place to another. It’s sorta like how you spray perfume and it’s really strong right where you sprayed it, but the smell eventually travels through the air and – oh shit, speaking of science, I almost forgot. Mr. Cook gave me something to give you.”

“Master Jason,” Alfred warns.

“Sorry Alfie, that one just slipped out.”

Jason rummages through his backpack and pulls out an apron.

“Mr. Cook said you left this at the soup kitchen yesterday and asked me if I could return it to you, and I was like yeah, duh, why wouldn’t I be able to do that? I didn’t actually say that to him, because he’s a pretty cool teacher and that would be kinda rude, but anyway, here’s your apron. Mr. C also gave me a photocopy of a research paper to give you. It’s something about the history of how every element on the periodic table was discovered and how each of them got their names, and probably some other things, but I stopped paying attention when he started talking about positive and negative polarity.”

Tim accepts the stapled hand-out, and the apron, and asks, “Did you read it?”

“Nope. Classic novels are for reading, dry research papers are for science nerds like you and Mr. C.”

Tim sticks his tongue out at Jason, but he’s also extremely relieved that Mr. Cook hid this message to Tim somewhere in the pages of a research paper that he knew Jason wouldn’t read.

Tim still needs to do a little damage control, so he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry I borrowed your apron without asking permission,” Tim says to Alfred.

“Not a problem,” Alfred says with a smile. “I have so many aprons. You are free to keep that one.”

What?!

Tim has his first non-stolen magical item!

Tim gasps so hard that he chokes on air and starts coughing. In between coughs he wheezes out a raspy, “Thank you so much.”

Jason calls him a dork, while patting him on the back until he stops coughing, and then goes back to complaining about how helicopter Bat-dad is the worst.

 

____

 

Jason and Bruce have been on their sunlight patrol for enough hours that it’s dark now. Tim has been in his room doing his homework. He wants to read Mr. Cook’s hidden message so badly, but he’s saving it for after he finishes his homework. On days when Tim isn’t hyper focused on a task, it’s a little trick he learned to keep his mind from wandering. The reward of getting to read the note is more than enough incentive for Tim to fly through finishing his homework.

When Tim adds the last period to his last sentence, he cheers and grabs the handout about elements. He actually plans to read the research paper later, because it sounds kind of cool, and any words he doesn’t understand he can look up on his phone.

Tim flips through the pages and right in the middle, on the back of page fifteen, is a handwritten paragraph. Tim holds his breath as he reads it.

Hello Tim. I have one hundred percent scientific certainty that Jason will not read this, so I will be writing about my discoveries freely. As you have asked me, I ran through your experiment using the same parameters. I did not have a vegetable peeler, so I bought one and then tried to peel an apple to make roses. I labeled my data as V0 and V1. V0 is without the apron and V1 is with the apron. V1 produced better quality roses, but that might be because I had made a few without the apron and I gained the skills to make more acceptable roses. We can consider that data somewhat inconclusive.

For my next experiment, I needed to make something complicated, but muffins seemed too steep of a learning curve, so I chose stir-fried vegetables and rice. I attempted to make that meal in the past and burned the vegetables quite severely and the rice was too hard.

The results with the apron were nothing short of magical. The stir-fried vegetables were perfect (and perfect is a term we rarely use in the scientific community). The texture of the rice was deliciously fluffy, and far exceeded the edible benchmark that I had set at the start of the experiment. I think you are on the right track about the magical quality of the clothing.

It was my pleasure to help, as you make your way to a no doubt, rewarding scientific discovery! Keep your curiosity high and keep challenging your theories, little Einstein.

– Mr. Cook

 

Tim holds up the paper triumphantly. He writes the information in his research notebook and starts to read the actual article about the origins of the periodic table, until Alfred calls him down for dinner.

Bruce and Jason are back from patrol and sitting at the table, and they both look exhausted. Jason looks just generally tired, but Bruce is holding an ice pack against his ribs, and this might be the first time that Tim has ever seen Batman injured.

Tim sits at the chair next to Bruce and asks, “Are you okay?”

The question seems to startle Bruce, because he flinches and then grunts, “It’s never an easy fight when it involves the Joker.”

Jason adds, “We stopped him, but he still got away. He got a cheap shot on B, too. It’s gonna be a while before we can kick that clown back to Arkham.”

Alfred has a ‘no-cape talk during meals’ rule, so Bruce changes the conversation quickly.

“I have good news, Tim. I received an email this afternoon that the furniture we ordered for your room has just come off of back order. The arrival date is a few days from now, so we need to paint your room as soon as possible. Have you decided on a color yet?”

Tim shoves his pile of broccoli florets to the far side of his plate with his fork.

“I want the walls to be green, but not broccoli green,” he says, eyeing Princess at her dog bowl across the room. Princess gives Tim a look that can be clearly translated as, “Don’t look at me, buddy, that broccoli is your problem not mine. I’m not bailing you out of this one.”

“Broccoli is two different shades of green,” Bruce says thoughtfully. “Are both unacceptable?”

“Yes.”

Jason stabs a piece of Tim’s broccoli and tries to help, but Alfred gives him a look. Alfred is really accommodating about Tim’s food choices, but Tim’s distaste for any green vegetable is a bit of a problem. Alfred would never force Tim to eat anything, ever, but Tim needs extra immune boosting foods because of his lack of a spleen, so broccoli makes an occasional appearance on Tim’s plate.

Tim sighs and eats a piece of broccoli. It’s not the worst thing in the world, but he would definitely rather be eating candy. He also can’t help but notice that Bruce has the same small pile of isolated broccoli on his plate too. He smiles at Bruce, and Bruce winks back.

Before Bruce and Tim start their official uprising about the disgusting green trees, the doorbell rings.

“I wonder who that could be,” Alfred says, placing the napkin from his lap onto the table as he stands.

Princess growls, and then starts barking. She races over to Bruce and keeps barking.

“Easy, girl,” Bruce says, and scratches behind her ears before following Alfred to the door.

Jason nods at Tim, and the boys follow behind Bruce, being extra careful to make sure that Bruce doesn’t know they’re following him.

The soft chime of the doorbell has turned into pounding on the door, and Tim can recognize his dad’s voice from the other side. Jason and Tim duck into the parlor room and stand behind the doorway, so that they’re mostly hidden, but still have a good view of the front door. Princess isn’t barking anymore. She’s nuzzled against Tim’s leg.

Alfred opens the door and Jack Drake almost stumbles inside. Bruce puts a hand against Jack’s shoulder to prevent the man from actually falling forward, but Jack slaps Bruce’s hand away and scowls.

“It wasn’t good enough that you stole my son, but now you stole my wife’s dog too. Fuck you. You entitled asshole. You think you can just take what you want and the hell with everyone else? And if you think I’m paying you back for the money you gave those repairmen to fix the window, you can think again. You probably came to my house and smashed the window yourself.”

Bruce sighs.

“You’re accusing me of walking to your house during a rainstorm and smashing your window, with what I assume would have had to have been a baseball bat or my fists, and then after I shattered the window, I paid a window repair service to fix it? That’s what you think happened? Here’s an idea. Go home now and come back when your less drunk and can actually form a proper argument.”

“Don’t you dare talk down to me,” Jack sputters. “I paid good money for that dog, and I want it back.”

“You neglected Princess, and you’ve proven you aren’t capable of taking care of her. When you abandon a dog for as long as you did with Princess, you lose the privilege of taking care of her. I stepped in, and now your son has a new puppy that he loves. Take that as a win and leave.”

“Bullshit! My boy thinks you’re some kind of hero, Wayne, but you’re not. You’re just some rich freak that likes collecting little boys, and we both know what you do with those little boys, don’t we Brucie? I should knock you out right here and right now. You tell the media in interviews about all the times you get hurt skydiving or skiing or whatever stupid rich boy hobbies you do, but I know the truth. You’re a little pansy. I bet you’ve never been in a fight in your life. I could knock you down with one punch.”

Bruce takes a step forward and Jack quickly stumbles back. Tim would give anything to see the look on Bruce’s face because Jack looks terrified.

Bruce’s voice is close to a growl.

“I want you to listen closely because I will not repeat myself. This is the second time that you have accused me, to my face, of doing unspeakable things to the children under my care. If you do this a third time, I will show you just how capable I am of landing a punch, Jackson. I have no doubt in my mind that you can reach the levels of depravity that would allow you to physically rip Tim’s puppy from his arms as he’s crying and then shout that this will be settled in court. I want to avoid that, because I’m the only one of us that actually cares about your son’s well-being, and I want to avoid traumatizing Tim even more than you and your wife already have. I will be the bigger man and give you what you want. Your son’s conception and his kidney were nothing more than bargaining chips to close a business deal. I assume that the puppy you left to starve would be of equal or lesser value than your son’s organs.”

Jack glares at Bruce for a moment, but it’s not long before there’s a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

“You’re a man of your word, Wayne. I’ll hold onto this favor. A future favor is a lot more satisfying than ripping that mangy mutt out of the ungrateful little bastard’s arms.”

Bruce grabs Jack by the throat and growls.

“Don’t you dare call Tim that!” His voice goes so dark it’s chilling. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fucking squeeze!”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred says cautiously.

Bruce lets go and Jack laughs, “That’s right. Listen to your butler. You don’t –”

Bruce slams the door in Jack’s face so hard the door shakes on its hinges.

Bruce’s back is to the door and his hands are in fists at his sides.

“Alfred,” he groans. “I was about to strangle that man.”

“And he would have deserved it,” Alfred says without a second of hesitation. “Jackson Drake is lucky that I don’t keep my shotgun by the front door anymore.”

Bruce chuckles at that.

Alfred continues, “Take heart, my dear boy, I believe that Jackson was trying to draw a violent reaction out of you. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he knows that you are a loving father that would never dream of doing anything to hurt any of your boys. I also believe that he does not view Master Timothy as the name he used. That was said to get a rise out of you as well.”

Princess bounds toward Bruce, which makes him look up. Tim doesn’t have enough time to duck behind the doorframe before Bruce spots both him and Jason.

“Tim,” Bruce says, as he bends over to pick up Princess. “How much of that did you hear?”

Tim bites his lip and looks at Jason. Jason is staring at Bruce, and the two of them are having one of those wordless conversations that Tim has seen the Bat team have countless times during patrol.

When Tim looks back at Bruce, Bruce’s eyes dart from Jason to Tim. Bruce takes a long exhale, almost like he was holding his breath.

“Violence is never the answer,” Bruce starts.

“Wrong answer, B,” Jason says. “Violence was absolutely the answer. Jack chose death when he messed with Bruce Wayne’s kids. Princess included. That jackass should’ve known that.”

Tim walks over to Bruce and looks up at the Dark Knight that defended him and his Princess.

“I know that you feel bad because you’re supposed to set a good example and you almost decapitated my dad, but Jay is right. Scaring Dad was the right answer. Dad’s a bully, and bullies only listen to people that are brave enough not to be pushed around. I was never brave like that against Dad. When he would yell, my hands would start to shake and sometimes I’d cry. That’s why Dad would always push me around.”

Bruce lets Princess hop out of his arms and sits on the floor so Tim can have the height advantage.

“Your father’s behavior is in no way your fault. I don’t ever want you to think that. You are worth so much more than your kidney or your spleen to me, but I want you to believe that yourself too. Choking your father felt good, but I came very close to losing my temper. It’s something I do a lot when I’m arguing with Dick, because he loves to push my buttons. It’s something we both need to work on. I would never hit Dick, he’s my son and I would never do that, but Jack is a different story. Losing my temper with him could have been… extremely problematic. To be honest, I’m having a hard time calming back down.”

Tim puts his hand on Bruce’s shoulder and smiles, “You know what’s really relaxing? Painting the walls.”

 

_____

 

The roller brush glides against the wall and a line of green paint spreads across the formerly gray wall of Tim’s new room. The shade is too close to broccoli stem green, and Tim hates it, but he’ll ask Alfred to help him paint over it tomorrow. For now, the act of painting is helping calm Bruce down, and the broccoli stem green paint is the only can of green paint that Alfred can find in the house.

Bruce and Alfred are the only ones tall enough to reach the areas at the top of the wall, by the ceiling. Jason keeps grumbling about being taller than Bruce when he hits his growth spurt, and then vaults to sit on Bruce’s shoulder so he can reach even higher.

Tim is pretty sure if Dick were here, he could be painting with one hand and using the other hand to hold a one-armed handstand. Tim’s two-handed handstand is getting really good, but he’s nowhere close to trying Dick’s signature handstand without a spot.

 

 

Notes:

Yeah, Tim's parents are the worst, but Bruce is determined to protect both Tim and Princess from the Drakes. This chapter was a little heavy but the next one is called The Wayne Kids Family Adventures, so the fluffy family fun is about to return :)
Random side note- There has been a lot of broccoli bashing in this fic, but in reality I love broccoli and eat it almost every day. I have no idea why I make Tim hate it so much. I just feel like Tim would hate green vegetables. Bruce too 😂

Chapter 18: Batman: Wayne Kids Family Adventures

Summary:

Did I ever tell you that road trips are one of my favorite tropes?

Notes:

Prompt #13 - Wrong Time, Right Place

Is an oven mitt an article of clothing? It’s technically a glove, and if a scarf counts as clothing, then an oven mitt (glove) should count as one too. At least that’s what Tim is telling himself to make himself feel better about stealing one of Alfred’s oven mitts. It’s not stealing when it’s research, right?

Tim knows he really shouldn’t have taken it, but Alfred asked him to grab a Tupperware bowl of leftover spinach casserole from the fridge for Dick since it was Saturday morning and Tim was headed to his gymnastics lessons in Bludhaven… and the oven mitt was just sitting there.

Tim continues his moral dilemma for the entire train ride, only taking a break when Big E points out the huge forest of orange and red trees out the window, and Tim scrambles to grab his camera.

As they get closer to Bludhaven station, Big E stretches his arms over his head.

“Do you have any big plans? You kids get off from school for almost a week because of the Thanksgiving break. The trains get really crowded because everyone is bringing their kids into the city to see the parade and all the other things that New York has to offer. It’s hectic, but I get paid double overtime the whole time so I’m not complaining.”

“I’m not sure if the Waynes do anything special,” Tim says, continuing to snap pictures of the colorful foliage. “Me and Jason volunteered at the soup kitchen once, and I really want to do it again, so maybe we’ll do that. Jason said that the kitchen needs help year-round, not just during the holidays so maybe we can do it again when there isn’t as many volunteers, and they really need the extra help.”

When the train pulls into the station, Big E lets Tim blow the horn, which is always Tim’s favorite part of the trip. He wavs goodbye to Big E and races over to Dick, who’s standing on the train platform and smiling like he hasn’t seen Tim in years.

“Hey Timmy!” Dick says surrounding Tim in a huge hug. Dick’s hugs always feel safe. Tim would only refuse one of Dick’s hugs if he were having a really, really bad day.

Dick waves at Big E, “Thanks for delivering my brother safe and sound, sir, and happy holidays. Tim won’t be taking the train back to Gotham. I’ve got him covered today.”

“Sounds like your brother has plans after all,” Big E says to Tim with a smile. “Have fun and stay safe.”

Dick tosses Tim a motorcycle helmet and hops on his bike.

“Hop on behind me, Timmy. Gymnastics class is cancelled for the holiday weekend, and we’re headed straight to my apartment this time.”

The trip to Dick’s apartment doesn’t take long and once they get there, Tim looks around. He hasn’t been to Dick’s apartment since it was fumigated and he’s not quite sure what fumigation means (he keeps forgetting to look it up), but he knows it has to do with spraying to keep either bugs or rats out of a building. Tim really hopes it isn’t rats. The floor is littered with empty take-out food boxes and some not-so-empty Chinese food containers. If the apartment building really does have a rat problem, a few of them have to be living in the scattered garbage on Dick’s floor.

“Sorry, T. I meant to clean the place up a little, but I forgot,” Dick says, with a slight blush across the bridge of his nose.

“It’s okay, Dickie. Being messy isn’t that bad, but um, do I have to look out for rats?”

“No, kiddo. My place is rat free. Although I did see a rat dragging a piece of pizza down the subway stairs last night, and he told me he was looking for a few turtles to pass down his ninja training. I told him my little bro has a thousand and five turtles, and I gave him directions to Wayne Manor.”

Tim giggles as he opens the fridge to put away the food Alfred sent. Tim swings open the refrigerator door and it’s almost empty.

“Yeah, I meant to go shopping, but kinda keep forgetting about that too. If you’re hungry I can order a pizza or something. The doc says that it’s the ADHD that makes me scattered, but I think it’s just part of my Grayson charm.”

Dick does a front flip off the kitchen table so that he lands on top of the fridge. When Tim closes the door, Dick sits on the fridge like it’s something he does every day, and lets his legs dangle over the side.

Dick reaches down and, with one arm, lifts Tim to sit next to him on the fridge. Tim can see almost the entire apartment from his new vantage point. Dick is scrolling through his phone as he speaks.

“So, I shut down the city’s top mob boss yesterday, which means patrol is light enough to take some days off. I called Uncle Clark and asked him if his offer to visit the farm was still good, and he was super happy that you, me, and Jay could be joining him, Ma and Pa during the biggest food holiday of the year. I told him I had to check with you to see if you’re okay with it. No pressure, Timmy. If you don’t want to go, we won’t go, but if you do want to go, it’ll be a Bros Road Trip. B has a lot of Wayne Enterprises work and Gotham Rogues get wild, especially during holidays, so he’s all good with having a chill Thanksgiving with just him and Alfie.”

Tim looks down at his hands and for some reason there’s a knot in his stomach. His voice sounds small, even in the small apartment.

“I’d like to go on vacation, please. It will be my first ever vacation. Mom and Dad used to always promise that they would take me with them during their travels, but they never did. The only time I ever packed a suitcase was when I went to live at the Manor. I didn’t have to travel far because you guys are my neighbors.”

“Well then, if this is going to be your first vacation, we better make it the best ever. Wally’s coming over to hang out, so he’ll grab Jay on the way. We can all go out to eat and do some shopping. We technically could leave tonight but I don’t want to drive at night so it’s better if we head out first thing tomorrow. Okay, I texted Jay and Wally, I just need to tell Bruce. He’s an old man so I gotta actually call him and physically talk to him. So lame.”

Tim picks at his fingernails, “Do you think Princess will be mad that I’m gone?”

“Nope. Bruce and the little fuzzball need some bonding time. He’ll take good care of her. I’ll call him now and let him know he’s on puppy duty. One sec while I scroll through contacts. Babs… Barry… hmm, no Bruce. Maybe I put him in as ‘Dad’. That’s probably – Timmy? Is everything okay? You’re acting a little odd. Tell me what’s up, kiddo.”

Tim hugs himself into a ball and mumbles against his knees. “Mfgm uh gu wa.”

“Can you run that by me again, bud?”

“Mom and Dad used to promise that they would take me with them so many times and something always happened and then they couldn’t. I know that you’re not like Mom and Dad and my brain knows that you wouldn’t lie to me, but I can’t help this funny feeling I have.”

Tim uncurls from the tight ball so that he can hug his arms around his stomach. His stomach is starting to hurt a little.

“Oh, Timmy,” Dick says, ruffling Tim’s hair. “I’m so sorry that your mom and dad let you down so many times, and I can’t say I’ll never do that, because emergencies happen, but I will never intentionally break a promise.”

Tim leans over to rest his head against Dick’s side and Dick pulls him close, but he keeps his grip light because he knows Tim is upset.

“My stomach hurts a little bit,” Tim says softly.

“A little ginger ale and crackers will help settle your stomach, but my fridge has zero sodas and the only thing in my cabinet is a half-eaten box of Marshmallow Frosted Sugar O’s cereal. There aren’t any marshmallows left in the box either. I ate them all.”

“I think you need to hire someone like Mrs. Mac to shop for you. She came to my house twice a week. I think that would work well for you. She’ll even clean up all the food boxes on the floor.”

“That might not be a bad idea,” Dick says with a laugh.

___

 

Tim is stretched out on Dick’s couch, drinking ginger ale, and eating crackers with his feet up. Princess is wrestling with her new best friend, Wally. Jason is the only one at the manor that plays rough with her, so Princess loves a new buddy to playfight with. She’s growling but her tail is wagging in pure delight.

Tim slurps the last of the ginger ale with his straw, and Wally looks up.

“How are you feeling, Timmy?” he asks, trying to pull a chew toy away from Princess. That’s her new favorite game.

“I’m feeling better. I’m sorry that you had to stay here and babysit me.”

“No worries, little dude. To be honest, kicking back with you and the puppy is so much more fun than shopping. I’m happy that you’re feeling better. High five to that.”

Wally holds his hand up and when Tim high fives Kid Flash, he can’t believe this moment is real. He looks down at his hand and contemplates never washing that hand again. It’s not the most sanitary approach, but if Tim puts a glove on every time he has to eat, it might work. Maybe he’ll steal one of Jason’s gloves. He hasn’t swiped a piece from Robin’s uniform in a while. He’s overdue.

Tim is one hundred percent sure that the Robin suit is in the backpack Jason was wearing when Kid Flash flashed him here. It’ll be way too obvious if Tim steals a glove.

“Mr. Wally?” Tim asks.

“Just Wally, kiddo.”

“Wally, can you put your name and address in my phone? I’m going on a vacation and I’d like to send you a postcard because that’s what people do on vacation, right?”

“They sure do,” Wally says, typing his contact info into Tim’s phone.

“Are you Dickie’s best friend?”

“Yup, why?”

“You need to tell him that he needs to hire a housekeeper, or he needs to make sure that he goes shopping twice a week. His fridge is almost empty, and his freezer literally just has ice. Jay is my best friend, and if he was living like this, I would let him know that he needs assistance. Being a slob is okay, but not having enough food to eat is not okay. I think he’s living off fast food, Wally.”

Wally lets go of Princess’s bone and flops onto the couch next to Tim.

“You really care about your brother Dickie, don’t you?” Wally asks.

“I do.” Tim smiles. “I love him.”

“Aww,” Wally says, but he’s cut off by Jason barreling through the door with both arms full of shopping bags.

“Yo, Timbo. You’re lucky I was shopping with Dickhead because his taste in clothes is awful. You should have seen the fugly shirts he was pickin’ out for you.”

“Hey,” Dick pouts. “I have great taste.”

“Great taste my ass. You were gonna buy Tim a pair of overalls and a shirt with a sailboat on it.”

“That is so not true!”

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but some of the outfits were tragic.”

“You’re such an overdramatic asshole, Jay!”

Tim ignores the bickering brothers and rummages through the shopping bags of clothes. There are no toddler clothes in there like Jason accused Dick of buying, instead there’s some really cool shirts, jeans, and cargo pants. Dick even bought formal clothes to wear during Thanksgiving dinner.

 

_____

 

The road trip starts out awesome. There’s a ton of traffic so they haven’t gotten too far for the hours they’ve been traveling, but Tim is still a ball of excitement. Jason is sitting next to Tim in the backseat and he’s reading a book, but every time Tim shakes his shoulder and points out the window at something cool outside, Jason puts in the bookmark and looks at whatever Tim is enthusiastically trying to show him.

The final destination is Smallville, Kansas, but Clark isn’t able to arrive until right before Thanksgiving dinner because he’s still superheroing, so Dick agreed to stop over at Metropolis and pick up something Clark needed to give Ma for dinner, and then drive over to the farm.

Tim has never been to Metropolis, so this is like two vacations in one!

There isn’t much scenery on this stretch of the highway, so Tim moves his face away from the window and settles back in his seat. He looks at Jason’s backpack on the floor.

Tim had thought Jason’s backpack only had his Robin suit in it, but it had so much more. Jason filled the backpack with a few of his favorite pocket-sized books, but he also jammed in three of Tim’s teddy bears, Tim’s laptop, Tim’s spleen vitamins, and a few more small essentials.

Tim is grateful that Jason packed his laptop. He has Bat-homework to finish. He still needs to finish the report on the turtle mission to give to Batman, so it can be passed over to Commissioner Gordon and arrests can be made, but Tim is stalling a bit on that. He’s been digging into how the pet store got a rare leopard, but he hasn’t found any solid leads yet. When vacation is over, Jason already agreed to go back to the pet store to help him search for more clues.

Eventually Dick drives into the parking garage of Clark’s apartment. The view of the Metropolis skyline from the huge window in Clark’s living room is the prettiest picture that Tim has ever seen.

Tim greets Clark, politely, and then rushes to the window and looks at the double rainbow that’s curved over the city.

Clark stands next to Tim and chuckles, “You don’t see that every day. Do you want to go flying for a closer look at the rainbow? It’ll make a great picture, plus I think I promised you a proper fly-over of the city when we first met.”

“I’m ready to take you up on that offer, Uncle Clark.”

Jason is still a little tired from late night/early morning patrol and Dick hasn’t had a proper nap in days, so the two of them pass out in the guest room (Jason is so tired he forgets to complain about sharing a bed with Dick).

Tim puts on a hoodie – sadly not one of Jay’s or Dick’s – and Superman flies him across the Metropolis skyline.

Tim takes as many pictures as he can, but also takes the camera away from his face a bit so he can take in the beauty that can’t be seen through a camera lens. He tries to make a mental snapshot of it all.

Everything is calm, beautiful and serene, until a giant metal fist barely misses Superman’s head. A robotic voice yells, “Superman, prepare to meet your doom!”

Superman doesn’t have enough time to dodge the other fist. He spins around so that the fist collides with his back, that way he takes the impact instead of Tim.

Superman is sent hurtling toward an office building, full speed, but just before he slams into the 50^th floor window, he’s flying instead of falling, and he gently places Tim on the windowsill.

Another metal fist comes toward both of them, but Superman uses his super strength to stop the punch and holds the massive fist back with both hands.

Tim pulls up the hoodie of his jacket to keep his face hidden in case someone saw Superman drop him off. The last thing Tim wants to do is be responsible for indirectly revealing Superman’s identity. He switches out his camera for his phone, turns it in landscape position, and starts to record the fight. He has a front row seat and when Jason sees this, he’s going to lose his mind.

Tim is very aware that he’s in the middle of a fight between Superman and an evil giant robot that wants to turn Superman into a super pancake. He’s also aware of the fact that this is one of the coolest moments of his life!

 

Notes:

Tim finally gets to go on vacation!

I had such a hard time editing this one, because I couldn't find the right spot to cut off this chapter and start the next one. I decided to end it right in the middle of the Superman fight, so the next chapter will pick up right from there. Batman: Wayne Kids Family Adventures Part 2 😁

Thank you all again for your continued support. I'm having such a great time with this story.

Chapter 19: The Wayne Kids Family Adventures part 2

Summary:

Tim gets the best view of a superfight, ever, and then bat boy shenanigans continue

Notes:

Prompt #12 - Fire and ice (extremely reaching on this prompt but we can pretend I'm not lol)

Gotham has been Tim’s home since the day he was born. He was born in the suburbs of Bristol township, but everyone that lives in Gotham knows the rules about monster/villain fights. Gotham has its fair share of melty clay dudes, giant sewer crocodiles, man-eating plants, killer clowns, etc. Any of these threats could pop up during a jog in the park, or in the middle of a fancy dinner, or even during a school trip. Gotham’s number one rule if you ever encounter a monster of any kind: Run as fast as possible in the opposite direction.

Tim knows that rule well. He also ignored that rule more times than he can count when he was sneaking around Gotham City during his Bat-photography phase. As long as Tim was hidden, there was no reason to run.

Tim wonders if Metropolis has the same number one rule.

Tim crosses his arms in an x-shape in front of him to protect his face. It won’t be much help against the giant piece of metal that’s flying through the air straight at him. Superman is too busy fighting a giant robot to notice that one of the pieces he ripped off is a deadly projectile.

As the giant piece of metal debris comes soaring toward him, he has enough piece of mind to keep the hand that’s holding his phone on the outer part of the x-shape so he can still film his potential last moments. When Tim is in photography mode, getting the picture comes first and self-preservation is a distant second.

As the deadly scrap metal gets closer, Tim can register that the piece is actually one of the robot’s fingers. The size gets larger and larger as it gets closer and closer until it eventually smashes into the window right next to him, barely missing. The gust of wind from the flying finger takes Tim’s breath away, pushing him closer to the window instead of off the window’s ledge.

It takes poor Timmy a moment to catch his breath, and for his hearing to return, but when he does, he can hear someone cheering from an open window, five windows down.

The cheering man’s entire upper body is sticking out of the window, and he’s fist pumping the air.

“Woo hoo! You show that robot who’s the real boss, Superman! Send that loser to the scrap heap!”

Tim mimics the man and shouts, “Yay Superman!”

The man hanging out of the window turns toward Tim and points.

“Oh my God!” he shouts. “There’s a kid out there! Hey, kid, are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” Tim lies. He pulls the strings of his hoodie, making it tight enough that there’s just a small spot where his eyes are visible. He used to pull the strings tight like that just for fun, but for once, it’s functional. He doesn’t want anyone to connect him with Superman. Secret super identities are just as important as Bat identities.

“Kid, do you think you can make it to my window? If you can reach my hand, I can pull you inside.”

Tim’s not sure. The window Tim is sitting in front of has a ledge that has enough room to sit, but the outside walls of the building that are between the windows have less ledge space. In order to get to the man, Tim will have to stand with his back pressed flat against the wall, and carefully shuffle sideways each time he has to pass a window. The parts of the ledge between the windows are so narrow that it’s just wide enough for Tim’s feet. Safety is five windows away, so he needs to do the dangerous maneuver five different times.

Mid-thought, Superman punches the robot and the shockwave the impact produces shakes the entire building. When the rumbling stops, Tim’s mind is made up. He scurries to his feet and sticks his phone in his pocket. Being inside the building seems like a way safer bet, so he starts the careful journey to the man.

Tim holds his breath every time he has to keep his back pressed against the wall, and breathes out every time the ledge widens when he reaches a window. Tim doesn’t look down. He pretends he’s Dick and he’s walking the tightrope. The Flying Graysons were famous for their trapeze act, but Dick was really good friends with the tightrope walking family and even filled in as an understudy when one of the performers got sick. Dick has told Tim that story at least twice.

When Tim is finally close enough, the office worker grabs Tim’s hand and pulls him safely inside. The man is shaking even more than Tim is. The man gives Tim a shaky hug, which Tim doesn’t exactly like, but the man saved him so it’s the least he can do for the man. The hug seems to calm the man down, and when he releases Tim, the man kneels down to Tim’s level and asks, “Are you alright, kid? Are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt. I’m okay, mister. Can I go back to filming the Superman fight if I promise not to climb out of the window?” Tim says, preemptively pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“Sure, kiddo. Let’s cheer on Superman.”

 

____

Tim points to the phone screen.

“Look at this part, Jason. This is the part of the fight where Superman uses his heat laser vision to overheat the robot’s internal hard drive!”

Superman does just what Tim says and Tim’s gasp of, “That’s so cool,” was picked up from the phone’s microphone. After the blast of heat vision disables the robot’s controls, Superman uses his ice breath to freeze any heat resistant back up controls.

Tim cheers just as loudly as he did when he was watching it in person, but this time his best friend is cheering next to him.

The picture gets shaky right after the robot explodes, because that’s when Tim had started jumping up and down and kind of forgot it would mess up the video.

Tim starts the video over again as Jason gives his review, “A fire and ice combo is the best way to destroy robots. You’re so lucky you got to see a robot fight that close. Me and B never fight cool things like that. Gotham villains are lame. We need more forty-foot killer robots.”

“No we don’t,” Dick says, snatching the phone from Tim, and narrowing his eyes at the video. “I can’t believe you were this close to the action, Timmy. You’re like a little magnet when it comes to taking pictures of superheroes.”

Dick is watching the video on Tim’s phone and he’s holding it too high for Jason to reach, even as he continues to jump to try and snatch it back.

Clark enters the room with a pecan pie in his hand.

“Superheroes wear capes, Dickie,” he says, handing the pie box to Tim. “Bruce, Jason, and I all wear capes. You on the other hand don’t qualify as a superhero. You’re maybe a hero at best.”

“Hey,” Dick whines, but it’s enough of a distraction for him to leave his upper body unprotected. Jason takes the opportunity and elbows him in the gut, causing Dick’s arms to lower and Jason to snatch the phone back.

Dick hugs his stomach and whines, “You’re all traitors.”

Tim reassures Dick, “I still think you’re super.”

“Thank you, Timmy. It’s nice to know I still have a fan.”

“That’s not a fan,” Jason snorts. “That’s pity, dude.”

Dick kicks Jason’s shin and Jason yelps as he crumples to the floor. More importantly, he drops the phone and Dick snatches it back.

“Boys,” Clark says with a chuckle. “Play nice. If you two act like that in front of Ma, she’ll send you both to your rooms without dessert. Speaking of dessert, since you boys will get to the farm before I do, can you deliver this pie to Ma for me? I promised I would make something for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Dick is still clutching his ribs as he looks at the pie in Tim’s hands.

“You didn’t make that pie, Uncle Clark. You bought it from the store. It’s in a box and it still has a price tag on it.”

“I made the trip to the store, so I still made something,” Clark says with a shrug.

“That’s not how it works,” Dick says. “But I’ll make sure Timmy captures Ma Kent’s reaction with his phone so you’ll know exactly how she feels about the pie you made.”

Clark fills the room with his booming Superman laugh, and puts his arm around Dick’s shoulders as everyone walks to the car.

Dick gives his Uncle Clark a huge hug before hopping into the car. Jason gives Uncle Clark a hug too, and whispers something in his ear. Clark smiles and nods, and Jason smiles back, giving him another quick hug.

When it’s Tim’s turn, Tim is still holding the pie box with both hands, and looks up at Clark. Even though Clark isn’t wearing the disguise glasses, because he’s in the privacy of his own home, Tim still thinks he still looks more like Clark Kent than Superman.

Clark kneels down and peels the sticker off the pie box. He sticks it on Tim’s chest and Tim giggles.

“I’m leaving you in charge of refereeing those two knuckleheads. Also, I’m sorry you got involved in that robot fight. I honestly thought I left you next to an open window and you could have just crawled in.”

“There’s no need to be sorry,” Tim says with a huge smile. “I got the coolest video of you fighting the robot, and then I got the best angle of a giant robot finger coming right at me, and then I walked on the outside of a building like a superhero, but I understand how that might sound really bad to someone who wasn’t there, so I won’t tell Bruce.”

Clark lifts an eyebrow, “I appreciate that, but I’m not asking you to keep secrets from your dad if you don’t want to. You can tell him if you’re more comfortable.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes secrets are okay,” Tim says, but his mind is stuck on the fact that Clark said Bruce was his dad.

Tim is still in a bit of a daze when he sits down and buckles his seatbelt.

He snaps out of it when the wind from the open window blasts him in the face. He quickly rolls up the window and realizes Jason’s talking to him.

“ – get away with charging sixty dollars for a pie? That’s like so stupid, it’s almost criminal.”

Tim looks down at the sixty dollar price sticker on his shirt. It does seem a little overpriced for a pecan pie, but it doesn’t bother him as much as it’s bothering Jason.

Jason ends his rant now that he sees Tim is paying attention, and his mood shifts into pure joy.

“Alright, Timbo. I got a surprise for you. Even Dickhead doesn’t know about this. So, I know how much you love that cape you stole from me and I don’t want to encourage goblin behavior, but your my brother, and you deserve things that make you happy, especially after that clusterfuck with your dad the other day.”

“Y-You’re officially giving me your cape,” Tim asks, wide-eyed.

“That ship has sailed, Timbers. I probably couldn’t pry that thing out of your cold dead hands. It took a little bargaining, but I got you something even better.”

Jason holds up Superman’s cape and Tim actually screams.

Dick yanks the wheel, swerving the car.

“What’s going on?” he yells. “What happened?!”

Tim is hugging the cape, making wild animal sounds, which probably isn’t helping Dick’s heart rate.

“Jay, what the hell is going on?” Dick yells, cutting off at least two cars to pull to the side of the road. The blaring sound of car horns are almost as loud as Tim’s squealing.

Dick turns around to face Jason and Tim, and Tim holds up the greatest red cape in all of existence.

Jason adds sheepishly, “I got Superman to give me one of his spare capes to give to Timmy, but I probably should have thought out the actual gift-giving process a little better. Sorry that you almost crashed the car. You gotta admit it looks really badass, right?”

Dick runs his hands through his hair and groans, “Yeah, I’m sure it does. Just let me recover from the heart attack I just had so that my vision can focus again.”

Tim is still squealing, but it’s at an almost whispered volume now.

“I have Superman’s cape! I have Superman’s cape! I can’t believe this! I have Superman’s cape!”

Tim wraps the huge blanket sized cape around him and hums contently. He leans his head on Jason shoulder and coos, “You’re the best brother in the world!”

 

____

 

The next few hours of the trip are much calmer. Traffic is a nightmare, so Jason reads a book, and Tim drifts off to sleep to the lulling melody of a pop song that Tim doesn’t recognize. He wraps his super cape around him as the world goes dark.

Tim wakes up to Jason shaking his shoulder.

“Wake up, sleepyhead, Dick’s about to pee his pants, so we’re stopping at a rest stop.”

Dick grunts, “That’s a lie. I just need to stretch my legs. I’ll meet you inside. Lock the car when you get out, kiddos.”

Dick tosses Jason the keys and sprints out of the car, running with far too much speed toward the restrooms for a person that just needs to casually stretch their legs.

Tim grumbles as he leaves the warmth of the cape in the car.

When they enter the convenience store, Tim doesn’t see where they keep the postcards, but he does spot something pretty cool.

He holds a bag of Bat-ritos in his hands. They’re Batman themed Doritos, covered with black powdered cheese, and they promise to be, “so spicy it’s Bat-rageous.” Tim has been on many trips to the grocery store with Alfred, but he’s never seen these. He can’t believe that a convenience store at a random highway rest stop has been hiding these treasures this whole time.

“Jay,” Tim says, letting the puffy bag of chips crinkle in his hands. “What do you think black cheese tastes like?”

“Only one way to find out,” Jason says. “Dick should be here any minute and I’ll ask him to buy these. My guess is that black cheese tastes like cigarette ash.”

“Why would someone buy something that tastes like cigarette ash?”

“The novelty,” Jason says with a shrug.

“I don’t think I want these anymore.”

Tim starts to return the mystery chips back to the shelf, and almost drops them when Dick appears behind him out of nowhere. Tim has begged his brothers numerous times to teach him that Bat trick, but the answer was always no. Jason had said that Tim was sneaky enough as is, if he starts learning more stealth skills they’ll be creating a monster.

Dick happily adds the bag of chips into a hand basket that’s already stocked with candy and soda.

“You guys what anything else?” Dick asks.

Tim cranes his neck to try to see around Dick and then looks from left to right.

“Yes. I can’t find the postcards. I promised Wally I would send one. I’m going to send one to Alfie and Bruce too.”

Dick leads Tim over to the back of the store with all the T-shirts and mugs and magnets that say I love Kansas. There’s a rack of postcards in the section, and Tim goes straight for the postcard with the sunflower. Tim already knew that the state flower of Kansas is the sunflower. He researched it last night when he was supposed to be sleeping but was too excited because he was going on vacation, or what Dick keeps calling bro-cation. It was originally vacay, and then Bat-cation, but Dick finally settled on bro-cation.

Tim plucks the postcard from the rack and smiles at Dick.

“This one has flowers, so I’m buying this for Alfie because he likes flowers and gardening,” he says. “I’ll get the sunflower one for Wally too because it’s pretty, but I can’t get Alfie and Bruce the same postcard because they’ll notice, so I’ll get Bruce the one with the field of wheat and the blue sky that says Hello from Kansas. I asked Uncle Clark if he could buy a postcard for me with Superman on it from Metropolis to give to Bruce too because it’s funny. Uncle Clark told me if I delivered his pie safely to Ma, he would bring the postcard when he flies to the farm.”

Dick pays for all the goodies everyone picked up and then takes his brothers to the area past the bathrooms where there’s a giant ball of twine and a statue of a space rocket. The brothers take a few touristy pictures sticking out their tongues and holding up peace sign fingers, or bunny ears behind Dick’s head.

Jason stands on Dick’s shoulders with Tim sitting on Jason’s shoulders, but they’re still not as tall as the giant ball of twine. It’s a really cool picture and a random lady was nice enough to take it with Tim’s phone.

After the photos, the boys hop back into the car – all of them in the front seat this time – and Dick turns the music up to full blast so that they can all shout-sing every song on Dick’s playlist. For the songs that Jason or Tim don’t know the words for, they use the dashboard as drums to bang out the melody.

It only takes five songs to reach the farm.   

Notes:

Jason knows how to hook a brother up lol. Tim loves the cape, but he still likes Robin's cape a tiny bit better, because it's Jason's :)

Chapter 20: There's No Place Like Home

Summary:

It's farm time! Tim meets the baby chicks and we also get a little bit from Dick's perspective in this chapter :)

Notes:

Prompt #7 porch swing

Disclaimer: I have no experience with farming, and the closest I've been to a cow is seeing one on TV, so my depiction of farm life may be vastly inaccurate. Any feedback about farming would be welcomed and greatly appreciated 😁❤️

The farm is huge and Tim is pretty sure that Kent farm is twice the size of Old McDonald’s farm. It would make sense because Old McDonald is one man running a whole farm, but Ma and Pa Kent are two people. They could definitely run a farm twice the size. That’s how farms work, right?

Jason is carrying the pecan pie in his hands and he has his backpack strapped to his back. Dick is rolling two suitcases and has a duffle bag on his shoulders. Dick had offered to roll all three suitcases (Tim’s still not sure how Dick planned on doing that), but Tim insisted that even though he doesn’t have Robin training, he still can roll a suitcase. He’s taking gymnastics and Karate classes. At this rate, he’ll be stronger than Superman.

Speaking of Superman, Tim rubs the back of his neck, wishing that the superman cape was hooked around his neck. Sadly, Jason had stuffed it in the backpack, but Jay did promise to take it out when they all got to their guest room.

The rocks shift under Tim’s feet as the last steps of the walkway turn into the front porch. Three wooden steps lead to the porch and there’s a porch swing with a black cat sleeping on it, curled into a happy, purring little ball.

Jason helps Tim lift the suitcase up the stairs as Dick rings the doorbell. The sound wakes the cat, who scurries away.

Dick taps his foot waiting for one of the Kents to open the door. It doesn’t take long for the door to open and reveal Ma Kent’s smiling face. Her silvery gray hair is tied up in a bun and she’s wearing an apron that has a few stains of light brown gravy. She wipes her hands on her apron, adding a new stain of what looks like it could be… stuffing?

“Two little Waynes and one big one,” Ma says, wrapping her arms around Dick’s neck. Dick turns a shade of red that normally Tim’s face is more accustomed to.

“Hi, Ma. It’s good to see you again,” Dick says. His voice cracks a little.

Ma hugs him tighter and gives him a kiss on the cheek before releasing him and moving on to Jason. Dick drags his luggage inside, and Pa is there to help him as Ma bends down a bit to get a closer look at Jason.

Jason stretches his arms out, presenting the pie.

Tim gasps, quickly remembering that he’s supposed to film this. He clicks his phone to the recording mode at lightning speed. It’s just in time to catch what Jason says.

“Hi, Ma. Um, I’m Jason. Uncle Clark wanted us to deliver this pie he made for you.”

Ma’s eyebrows furrow as she looks at the store-bought pie. The look only lasts for a moment before she starts to chuckle, “My boy is so busy saving the world that I can’t expect him to bake, now can I?”

She takes the pie and Jason gives her a hug. Ma gives Jason a kiss on the top of the head. When Jason ends the hug, Ma gives him back the pie and says, “Can you be a dear and take that pie to the kitchen? It’s straight back there. You can’t miss it, just follow the smell.”

Jason takes a step into the house but looks back at Tim.

Tim realizes that he’s the last person to greet Ma. He wants to do it right, so he takes a deep breath. The appropriate thing to say would be, “Hello Ma Kent. My name is Tim. It is a pleasure to meet you,” but the thought of speaking to Superman’s mom is a little too overwhelming. Tim’s brain takes a mini vacation and the words that come out of his mouth don’t have the helpful aid of a filter.

“I don’t have a farm full of animals, but I have stuffed animals, and I haven’t counted how many, but there’s a lot, and I have a puppy named Princess, and I have fifty one turtles, and I named them all because everyone should have a name, but they look really similar so I can’t tell them apart by their names, but they know who they are because all of them were paying attention when I gave them their names, so their names are just for them, you know, so I have Michelangelo, Donatello, Rapheal, Leonardo, Greenie, Kermit, John, Jamal, Oliver, Ludwig…”

He keeps naming turtles, listing them off with his fingers until he gets to the last two.

“… Thaddeus, and Joey, and they live in a turtle pond that Alfie helped me make, and – ”

Tim has to take a breath before he passes out. He takes a deep inhale to fill his chest. When he lets out the much-needed breath, Ma is smiling at him patiently. He wants to continue but one breath isn’t enough to catch his breath. He holds up a finger and takes two more rapid breaths, but this time Ma finally interrupts.

“Sweetheart, we have more than enough time to talk. You don’t have to tell me everything at once.”

Tim chews on his lip and nods, gulping in a little more oxygen.

Jason walks back onto the porch and it looks like he’s going to put his non-pie holding arm around Tim’s shoulders, but he stops himself and grabs the handle of Tim’s suitcase instead.

“I’ll race you to the kitchen,” he says.

Tim’s mom has strict rules about running in the house, so Tim looks up to Ma Kent to silently ask if it’s okay. Ma gives him an all knowing nod, and Tim takes off full speed to the kitchen before Jason can even register what’s going on.

He still loses the race to Jason.

 

______

Dick is unpacking the suitcase and hanging up a silky blue dress shirt that he definitely brought to wear during Thanksgiving dinner. Jason and Tim are huddled around Tim’s laptop, pressed as close to the screen as possible. Bruce’s face fills the screen before he readjusts his distance from the webcam and he waves.

“Hi boys. Are you having fun at the farm?” he asks. Tim can see the bookshelf behind him so he knows that Bruce is having the video chat on his office computer.

“It’s so freakin’ cool, B,” Jason says. “We have a guest room, but Pa said we can sleep in a loft in the barn tonight if we want. Dick said he used to sleep with the animals all the time when he was living the circus life, but me and Timmy can’t wait to see all the cool farm animals.”

Tim adds, “Dickie said he’s going to do a head count on all the baby chicks to make sure I don’t stick one in my pocket.”

This gets a hearty laugh out of Bruce.

“I think we have enough pets at the manor,” he says, “and speaking of pets. Someone wants to say hi.”

Bruce holds up Princess to the camera, and she’s fluffier than Tim has ever seen her. Before Tim can ask why, Bruce says, “Alfred and I took her to the groomers. I know that she’s an emotional support dog, but the way that she preened at all the grooming, I’m starting to think she identifies more as a show dog. She was practically prancing around the whole time and then started whining when I had to take her home. She was so upset, so Alfred suggested a walk at the dog park, but after a few steps, she refused to walk and I had to carry her around the park.”

Princess licks Bruce’s face at the end of the story causing Bruce to roll his eyes and sigh, “By the time you boys see her again, she’ll be spoiled rotten.”

Tim pets the screen, even though Princess can’t feel it.

“Thanks for watching Princess,” Tim says, and because he can’t help being awkward, he adds, “You’re um, you’re a really good dad…” long pause “… to Princess.”

Bruce seems to understand and nods, “It’s not hard. He’s a good boy. He can trust me.”

“B, Princess is a girl,” Jason says, shocking Bruce and Tim out of the moment.

“Of course,” Bruce says clearing his throat. “Regarding another matter. Alfred has taken over the task of making sure all the stuffed toys that you have left behind are taken care of. He snuggles with them in bed every night, so rest assured, they are being loved.”

“I have done nothing of the sort,” Alfred says with a gasp, but the laughter of Bruce and the boys drowns out Alfred’s sputtering.

When the laughter has died down enough for Alfred to speak, the long-suffering butler says, “I have not been snuggling with Master Timothy’s stuffed toys. If anyone needs a teddy bear to go to sleep, it is you Master Bruce. As I recall, just the other day –”

“ – Alfred, I just saw the Bat-signal in the sky,” Bruce says quickly. “Sorry, boys, I have to cut this talk short. Have a good time at the farm and give the Kents a hug for me.”

“Master Bruce, the curtains are drawn. There is no way that you can see the Bat-Signal from –”

The call cuts out before Alfred finishes his sentence.

Jason and Tim start a new round of laughter. Dick flops on the bed, laying on top of Jason and Tim, producing squeals of protest and more laughter from his brothers. Tim manages to roll out from under Dick and uses a pillow to fight against Dick for Jason’s freedom.

After a hard-fought battle, Dick gives up and the three brothers lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. When they all catch their breath Jason is the first to speak.

“Round two?” he asks, with joy and revenge in his voice.

Just as Dick picks up a pillow, Pa sticks his head into the doorway, “Do you boys want to help me feed the chickens?”

Tim raises his hand like he’s in school, and waves it around. “I do. I do,” he says eagerly, and launches himself off the bed. Dick and Jason follow closely behind.

When they reach the chicken coop, Tim gasps at all the fuzzy yellow chicks. They’re so adorable!

Dick mumbles, “Twenty five,” as a warning in Tim’s ear.

Tim huffs, and doesn’t mention that there’s a twenty-sixth chick hiding under a pile of hay.

Pa scoops up some chicken feed and tosses it. Tim frowns that it looks a little aggressive, but the cheeping yellow fuzzballs love it. It’s a chaotic mealtime and all the baby chicks, chickens, hens, and even a rooster flap around the food.

Tim, Jason, and Dick join in with food distribution. Tim watches the baby chicks waddle and it’s too cute. He looks over at Jason to tell him, and he can’t help but smile when he sees how wide Jason is smiling.

Jason’s had a hard life before Bruce adopted him, so he has his guard up at all times, which makes a lot of people see him as standoffish. People make assumptions about Jason that aren’t true. Tim knows what it feels like to be misunderstood, so it’s something that Tim and Jason have silently bonded over. Right now though, Jason looks as happy and outgoing as any normal kid. Tim’s mom and dad use the word normal all the time, but Bruce had recently told him that normal is overrated. Tim doesn’t really know what that means. He didn’t want Bruce to think he was dumb, so he didn’t ask when he had the chance.

Jason sits on the ground and tries to coax the chickens to come over to him, but no one takes him up on his offer. Maybe they’ll be more friendly after mealtime. Tim likes to concentrate when he’s eating, so he can relate.

Dick is trying to juggle two handfuls of bird seed in his hands, and making a mess. Tim wonders if he and Pa are the only ones taking the nutritional needs of the chickens seriously.

After the meal, the chickens do indeed flock to Jason, and Tim scampers behind Dick for safety. Shortly after, Pa shows Jason how to chase after the chickens (which both the humans and the chickens seem to enjoy).

Dick has a baby chick cupped in his hands and Tim gently pets the little one’s fuzzy body as the chick cheeps.

“Easy, baby birdie,” Dick says, as the chick tries to peck Tim and clips the inside of Dick’s palm instead. The little fuzzy baby pecks a few more times before calming down and drifting off to sleep in Dick’s hand.

 Tim whispers, since the little chickee is asleep, “Did you know that there’s an alpaca on the farm? I want to see it so bad, Dickie. If I’m going to try to smuggle any of these animals out of here in my suitcase, it’s going to be the alpaca.”

“Confessing to the crime before committing it? Amateur mistake, Timothy.”

Tim giggles, and goes back to petting the sleeping birdie in Dick’s hand.

“Dickie, can’t we just – ?”

“No,” Dick says with a laugh, and Tim pouts.

 

_______

After a homecooked meal, and after the two youngest Waynes are asleep soundly in bed, Dick crawls from under the shared blanket and descends the stairs of the barn loft. Jason stirs slightly at the movement, but when he rolls over, his arm lands on Tim. Jason sighs and pulls Tim closer, and it’s enough for him to go back to the even breathing of sound sleep.

Dick swallows an almost impossible to prevent, ‘Awwww.’

He climbs down the stairs with the skills of being a former Robin, and being an acrobat since birth. He shrugs on his Gotham U hoodie – that’s strangely been moved to a hanger that’s on Tim’s side of the closet – and walks outside.

The cold Kansas air hits him, making him more alert than before and he leans against the barn and looks up at the sky, taking in the calm chill of the winter air. He looks up at the stars and winks, “Hi Mom.”

After a few minutes of fruitlessly trying to clear his mind, he wanders over to the main house. His steps make the wooden stairs of the porch creak. He lowers himself onto the porch swing and rocks gently, using his toes to control the speed.

He brought his phone with him, but being in the middle of nature’s beauty seems like an unnatural environment to internet surf or doom scroll. So instead, he calls a friend.

The farm’s Wi-Fi is good so he makes the call a video call, and smiles when Superman’s face appears on his phone.

“Howdy, Dickie. What are you doing up at this hour of the night? This is when people that aren’t on Bat-patrol are supposed to do something we like to call sleep.”

“Sleep? Never heard of her,” Dick says with a laugh.

Clark joins in with a hearty laugh and then asks, “Seriously, buddy. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, Uncle Clark. I grew up in such a big family with the circus. I had my mom and dad, and everyone else were either aunties or uncles, cousins or nieces and nephews. We weren’t biologically related, but we were a family. Then I lost it all and it was just me, B, and Alfie. But now B is taking care of Jason and Tim, and it’s got me thinking. Those two gremlins are way too difficult for just Bruce and Alfie to tame. Maybe… maybe I should come back. I’ve already taken down the mafia ring that I set out to topple when I started my quest in Bludhaven. The police can easily take care of the other petty crimes in Bludhaven. The place isn’t Gotham, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s time, Uncle Clark. Maybe it’s time to come back home.”

Clark is so quiet and motionless that Dick is starting to think the connection froze.

“Uncle Clark?”

“I just lost one hundred bucks to Alfred. I bet that Bruce would be the first to beg you to come back, and Alfred bet that you would be the one to come crawling back.”

“Uncle Clark,” Dick snaps, “I’m serious. I’m coming to you for Uncle-ish advice.”

“Uncle-ish isn’t a word, little D.”

“It should be. Well maybe it shouldn’t be if the only advice you’re gonna give me is to stay in Bludhaven so that you don’t lose a hundred bucks.”

Clark sighs, “Dick, being an uncle to you is one of my most important jobs, and I’m freakin’ Superman, so that should tell you how important you are to me.”

“I’m telling Ma you said freakin’.”

“Pa says worse,” Clark says with a chuckle.

There’s a comfortable silence, until Dick almost whispers, “I like being a big brother to the two little troublemakers. Jason would kill me if he heard me call him little, but they are. They’re my little brothers and this Bat life is all kinds of crazy, and I want to be there to help them get through it. Jason’s childhood sucked, and Timmy’s parents are a nightmare, I just want to…”

“Give them the world?” Clark finishes for him. “You’d pluck the actual stars from the sky and put them in a jar. You’d leave that glowing jar on their nightstand if it could end their fear of the dark? I remember Bruce telling me those exact words when he opened up the manor to a little ball of chaos that wouldn’t stop swinging on the chandeliers.”

Dick blinks a few times rapidly. He was so scared of the dark when he first came to the manor. Bruce used glow in the dark stars on the ceiling to help. He never knew that Bruce wanted to give him real stars.

The lump in Dick’s throat eventually shifts enough to speak, but his voice is scratchy enough to be mistaken for a decent imitation of Bruce.

“Ma hated the pie,” Dick says slowly.

“Yeah. I knew she would.”

“I’m moving back to the manor,” he says even slower.

“Yeah, Dickie. I knew you would.”

 

Notes:

Dick is coming home! Okay, so the next chapter will have Tim meeting more animals that he will immediately want to steal. Chapter 21 will be the Thanksgiving dinner and it's going to be wild. Ma and Pa have invited some special friends to join them for Thanksgiving dinner 😁

As always, thank you all for being so amazing and leaving so many comments and kudos and for continuing to follow along with Tim's magical hoodie adventure. I've been doing well keeping myself at least one chapter ahead of posting (most of the time), and I'm going strong!

Chapter 21: Dinner at the Kents

Summary:

I cant leave a summary or I'll spoil the whole thing :)

Notes:

Prompt #9 - (love) at first sight

Tim had set his alarm for five in the morning because that’s when Pa said it was wake up time for feeding the farm animals, collecting the eggs, and milking the cows. The Kents run a small family farm, so they don’t make money from the eggs or the milk or the wool from their sheep. Any food the animals produce is used for their own kitchen and the extras are sold at the local farmer’s market. Any wool that is collected goes to Ma for knitting. The crops are where the Kents make their money. Pa is able to plant and harvest more than enough crops to keep the farm running, and whatever he can’t handle, Clark flies over to help.

Tim’s phone alarm doesn’t wake up Jason, so Tim has to manually shake him to get him up. Dick is an even sounder sleeper (aren’t superheroes supposed to be light sleepers?), so Jason skips the gentle wake up, and jumps in the air and lands, seated on Dick’s chest.

Dick wheezes and grunts, “Damn it Jay, I’m Nightwing. You can’t wake me up like that. I could’ve thought you were a villain and stabbed you in the… in… the…”

“Dude! Are you falling back asleep?” Jason asks, shaking Dick awake again. “Quick Timmy, tickle his feet. That should wake Sleeping Dickhead.”

Tim tickles Dick’s feet and Dick answers with a yelp.

“I’m up. I’m up,” he groans, jerking away from Timmy the tickle monster.

The barn door creaks open and both of the sleepy vigilantes tense at the sound. Suddenly both of Tim’s brothers are wide awake.

The door fully opens and reveals the threat to be Pa Kent, wearing overalls and carrying a bucket.

“Rise and shine, boys. It’s time to do the morning chores.”

Pa’s announcement is followed by the rooster clucking his morning cock-a-doodle-doo.

“We’re up before the freakin’ rooster,” Jason groans. “There’s something so wrong about that.”

He has just as much whine in his voice when he asks Pa, “Do we have to get dressed to do the chores?”

“PJs are fine,” Pa says, handing Jason the bucket. “I reckon Bessie girl wouldn’t notice if you were milking her wearing a full fancy tuxedo. But you boys are gonna be shoveling out the muck in stables and feeding the pigs, so make sure you wear those high boots over there, and roll up the legs of your PJs if you don’t want to get ‘em dirty.”

The boys decide to wear jeans and flannels and not risk getting their comfortable night sweats dirty. When everyone’s dressed and ready to go, they all head over to the horse stables first, but something catches Tim’s attention, and he stops in his tracks.

Staring back at him is the most adorable black alpaca in the world, smiling back at him. Tim has never been in love before, but this is definitely what it feels like. This is love at first sight.

Tim walks away from the group as he’s drawn to this real live embodiment of a teddy bear. He must adopt this animal immediately.

The alpaca walks close to the fence that separates Tim and the majestic creature. Tim has done some research – he’s done a long internet search on as many farm animals as he could think of, so that he would be knowledgeable about what to expect on the farm – so he knows that alpacas are friendly around humans.

Tim sticks out his hand to pet his new fluffy friend, and the alpaca licks his hand. Tim holds in his squeal because it’s bad to be loud around animals, but a soft whimper still slips out.

“I’m Timmy,” Tim says to the alpaca.

“Timmy,” Pa calls out from behind Tim. “It looks like you’ve met Bruce. Come help with these chores and then you can play with the little guy.”

Tim whispers to Bruce, “I’ll be back for you.”

 

_______

 

“ – and the pig snorted at Jay, and he fell in the mud, and then Dickie laughed at him and Jay threw the empty milk bucket at him, but there was still some milk in the bucket and I was afraid that Dickie would be sick because he’s lactose intolerant and milk makes him have really bad dia –”

Ma clears her throat and Tim realizes he shouldn’t talk about Dick’s stomach problems at the breakfast table. He was just really excited to tell Ma the story.

He winces, wondering what his own mom would have said to him. He’d probably be sent to his room and not allowed to eat tonight’s Thanksgiving dinner.

Dick ruffles Tim’s hair, “Don’t worry. I have to actually ingest the milk for it to make me sick.”

Ma assures Dick that the food with milk will be separate from the rest of the food so that Dick won’t have any problems. She doesn’t sound mad, so Tim relaxes a little.

After breakfast, Tim and Pa go into town so that Tim can mail off his postcards and Pa can pick up more fresh strawberries at the general store for Ma. Jason stays home with Ma to help cook. He loves to help Alfred cook, and he hasn’t been with the Waynes for more than a few months, so he’s never helped prepare a Thanksgiving dinner.

Right before Tim and Pa leave for the market, he hears Ma ask Jason, “Have you ever had Thanksgiving dinner, dear?”

“No ma’am,” Jason says. “We never had enough money when my mom was alive, and after she passed, I really didn’t have enough money. Last Thanksgiving, I couldn’t afford dinner. I didn’t have dinner the night before either, but on Thanksgiving, around lunch time, I saw a guy toss a box of chicken, from Chicken Hut, in the dumpster and there was still some chicken left on a few of the wings, so I took a chance that dude didn’t have like hepatitis or somethin’ and had his leftover chicken for dinner.”

Ma makes a noise that’s somewhere between a strangled moan and a whimper, and scoops Jason up in a hug, but Pa ushers Tim out of the house and into the truck before he can see what else happens.

 

Tim is back from his Postcard and Strawberry Mission, and most of the food is done. Ma just needs to add the strawberries to one of the desserts.

Tim and Jason help wash dishes, while Tim works out the fine details of his plot to steal Bruce. Jason hands Tim the last wet plate to dry when the doorbell rings.

Tim assumes that it’s Clark, but he recognizes Uncle Eddie’s voice all the way from the kitchen, and runs to the front door.

“Uncle Eddie,” he squeals. “What are you doing here?”

Uncle Eddie is holding hands with his wife, Amy, but when Tim approaches, he kneels down so Tim can give him a huge hug.

“Hey Squirt. I was planning on coming over to Wayne’s fancy mansion for Thanksgiving because you did me a solid and came to my wedding, but Brucie said you were going to Kansas to celebrate. I got Martha’s number from Bruce, and she said it was alright to join the holiday meal, so here I am. I know I’m not your real uncle, but I’m kinda connected to the Drake side of your family, so I thought it might be nice for someone on that side to actually show up during a holiday for you. So here I am. Ya surprised to see me?”

Tim hugs Uncle Eddie tighter and his face smooshes against his uncle’s chest as he nods. He tries to sniffle as softly as he can. Uncle Eddie rests his chin on top of Tim’s head and whispers, “I’m glad to be here, kiddo.”

Amy says hello to the rest of the family as Tim rubs his eyes, trying to pull himself together. Uncle Eddie stays kneeling and keeps rubbing Tim’s back until Tim scrubs away the last tears.

“You good?” Eddie asks.

Tim nods, sniffing one last time. Uncle Eddie stands and pats him on the back.

“Cool. Let’s go over to Martha and see if she needs helps setting the table.”

“I think you can call her Ma,” Tim says, walking to the kitchen with his uncle.

Uncle Eddie greets Jason with a salute. He greets Dick by slapping hands and then pulling Dick into a one-armed hug. Tim is just getting used to hugging, but the way that Uncle Eddie and Dick’s chest slam together, it doesn’t seem like it would feel like a nice hug, but both Dick and Uncle Eddie are smiling so it must not be that bad.

The doorbell rings again and Clark is in the doorway. He’s wearing the Clark Kent thick black glasses, because Uncle Eddie and Amy don’t know the secret identities of any of the heroes in the house. When Clark steps aside, right behind him is Bruce, carrying Princess, and Alfred, carrying an actual homemade dish.

“Bruce,” the three boys shout.

Bruce’s face turns an uncharacteristic shade of red, but he schools his expression back to neutral and shrugs, “I was able to take some time off work after all.”

Bruce puts Princess down and the puppy races to Timmy. Tim scoops her up in his arms and giggles as she nuzzles his neck.

Ma claps her hands together.

“Alright everyone, wash up and grab a plate before the food gets cold.”

 

_____________

Tim is sitting next to Jason and across from Bruce, and he couldn’t be happier. The only one that looks as close to being as happy as Tim is Ma Kent. She mentioned that her house hasn’t been this full in a long time and after that admission, she hasn’t stopped smiling.

All of this love and family is great, but it’s also overwhelming. Now that he’s changed into his fancier clothes for dinner, Tim feels antsy. He looks over at Jason for help when the room feels a little too crowded and the dress shirt collar around his neck feels too tight. Tim watches as Jason runs his hands from the top of his thighs to his knees and back. Tim does the same to his own thighs and slowly the tension goes away.

“It’s a grounding exercise,” Jason whispers. “If it gets too bad, we can both excuse ourselves so we can hop around to shake off the tension.”

Tim nods and whispers back, “Thank you,” then goes back to eating his turkey dinner.

Uncle Eddie gets everyone’s attention.

“Alright folks, I have an announcement. Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful, but Thanksgiving dinners are supposed to be filled with drama and turning over tables. So, in the spirit of that –,” he raises his glass of apple cider, “ – me and Amy are havin’ a kid. Amy’s four months pregnant. We just found out she has a little bun in her oven a week ago.”

Tim frowns, “How can she be four months pregnant? You only got married a month ago.”

Jason snorts next to him and Uncle Eddie smiles, “Well, when a man and a woman love each other –”

“ – No,” Bruce says, cutting him off.

Dick smirks, “Ah c’mon, B. You had the talk with me when I was like eight.”

“I’m pretty sure I did not,” Bruce says flatly. “More importantly, congrat–”

“ – Hey B,” Jason interrupts, chewing on a spoonful of mashed sweet potatoes, with a glint in his eyes, “Where do babies come from?”

Bruce twitches and lifts his glass, “Congratulations Edward and Amy. I call a toast to celebrate this wonderful news.”

Everyone raises their glasses and cheers, but when the toast is over, Tim raises his hand. Bruce smiles, “Yes Timmy?”

“Uncle Eddie said that a baby happens when two people love each other, but Uncle Eddie doesn’t love Miss. Amy. They got married so she could keep her green card, right?”

Uncle Eddie laughs, “I’ve got this, Brucie.” He looks at Tim. “You’re right, Buddy. Me and Amy didn’t get married because we loved each other. It wasn’t love at first sight, or nothing like that, but I love her now, and against all better judgement she loves me.” That gets a laugh from the adults at the table. “So, you see, love is sneaky like that. Sometimes you’re livin’ your life and then bam it knocks you off your feet. And my Amy girl knocks me right off my feet every day.”

He ends his confession by kissing Amy. The kiss starts off sweet, but just like the kiss at the wedding, Tim quickly has to look away when Uncle Eddie sticks his tongue in her mouth and starts humming.

Dick clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention away from Uncle Eddie and Amy’s make out session.

Dick looks at Bruce.

“I have an announcement to make too.”

Bruce starts choking on a piece of his dinner roll and Dick laughs, “I didn’t get anyone pregnant B, relax.”

Bruce is coughing, but holds up a hand when Clark stands up to potentially save him from choking. Bruce takes a sip of water and wheezes, “Go on, Dick. You were saying?”

Everyone at the table is silent and Dick looks at Clark, who gives a slight nod. Dick looks back at Bruce and takes a deep breath.

“Dad?”

Bruce freezes at the name.

“Dad, I want to spend more time with my brothers, and… and I miss you. I want to come home. I want to leave Bludhaven and move back to the manor with you again.”

“Richard…” Bruce says, his voice wavering from the shock.

Dick answers with a smile, but it quickly turns to a look of horror, and Dick yells, “Dad! Your hand!”

Bruce looks down at the steak knife in his hand. He’s holding the razor-sharp knife with a death grip, which is causing blood to drip from his fist. When he turns his fist so that his palm is facing him, and he opens his hand, the lack of pressure on the wound causes it to start pumping out blood.

“You want to move back home, son?” Bruce asks softly. His words can hardly be heard over the sound of everyone shouting and talking over each other.

Dick snatches the knife away and then grabs Bruces hand with a napkin to put pressure on the wound. Clark is yelling that he’s going to get the medical kit. Alfred is following him with loud clumsy footsteps. Amy is screaming, “Oh my God! There’s so much blood!” Uncle Eddie is telling her to calm down, she can’t have the baby in Kansas. Pa Kent is trying to calm them both. Jason is crawling over the table to get to Bruce because it’s the quickest way, but he’s knocking a few plates and glasses onto the floor, and they shatter on impact.

And Tim?

Tim is frozen, watching the scene in front of him play out in a strange kind of slow motion. The only thing he can think is, ‘Wow, Uncle Eddie was right about dramatic Thanksgiving dinners.’

   

 

Notes:

I had way too much fun writing that dinner scene. I hope it was as fun to read as it was to write!

Chapter 22: Dinner at the Kents Part 2

Summary:

A little more farm fun.

Notes:

Prompt #10 - Love of my life

Tim is sitting on the couch in the Kent’s living room. He’s curled up into the tightest ball he can manage and he’s hugging Uncle Eddie’s suit jacket around him like a cape. He has two actual capes that he would rather have wrapped around him, but Uncle Eddie’s suit jacket is nice too. Uncle Eddie tossed his suit jacket over Tim’s shoulders when he started shaking during the Thanksgiving dinner disaster. Tim didn’t tell Uncle Eddie that he was shaking because he was scared instead of being cold. Saying that might sound ungrateful and he didn’t want to be rude.

Tim hugs the jacket tighter, and ignores how much it smells like cigarette smoke, as Bruce continues to moan next to him on the couch. Bruce has to pretend that slicing his hand is more painful than it is, so that Uncle Eddie doesn’t suspect that he’s Batman. Tim knows that the moaning is fake but it’s upsetting to see Bruce even pretending to be in pain.

Tim glances over at Bruce and he’s the exact opposite. Whereas Tim is curled up in a tight ball, Bruce is stretched out as much as possible. The elbow of his good arm is bent, and his forearm is covering his eyes. His head is tilted all the way back, resting on the cushions of the back of the couch. His legs are spread apart and dangling under the coffee table. His tie is off and the top three buttons of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned, exposing the top of his undershirt. His injured hand is tucked against his stomach and wrapped in gauze, similar to how an ace bandage would be wrapped around a sprained wrist. There’s a glass of whiskey with ice on a coaster on the coffee table, but Bruce hasn’t touched it.

Tim shivers when Bruce grunts. That grunt of pain sounded real. Tim is about to ask, but Clark comes into the room.

“How are you feeling, Bruce,” Clark asks, giving one of Bruce’s legs a shove for emphasis. Bruce answers with his typical, “Hn.”

Clark gives Bruce another shove and lowers his voice, so that Uncle Eddie can’t hear it from the other room. “I think you’re scaring Timmy.”

That gets Bruce to move his arm from over his face and sit up.

“Tim,” Bruce says looking over at Tim sitting next to him. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I thought you were helping Jason and Ma pack up all the leftovers in the kitchen. I didn’t even know you were sitting there.”

“World’s Greatest Detective,” Clark says with a snort.

“Shut up. No one asked you, Kansas,” Bruce says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Clark looks at Bruce’s bandaged hand and squints his eyes.

Bruce grumbles, “I didn’t give you permission to take a peek.”

“Wow,” Clark whistles, “Someone’s a little cranky after he stabbed himself.”

“I did not stab myself. Timmy, did I stab myself?”

Tim nods, “Yes. You stabbed yourself.”

“Well, I guess I’m outnumbered,” Bruce says with a pout.

Clark sits down on the couch, on Bruce’s other side, and points at Bruce.

“Guess who makes the same face that you’re making right now? Bruce the Alpaca.”

“You have an alpaca named Bruce?” Bruce asks, making a face even more similar to the alpaca than the prior face.

“Yup. I named him myself. He’s all black and extra broody.”

Tim puts a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“He’s really cute and really fuzzy. I can introduce you to him tomorrow,” Tim says. He leaves off the part about adopting him and bringing him home. He can ambush surprise Bruce with that morsel of information in the morning.

Clark mumbles something to Bruce and Bruce nods.

Tim gasps, “Was that Kryptonian? That’s so cool, Uncle Clark. I want to have a secret language with my best friend too. Me and Jason need a secret language.”

Clark adjusts his glasses and rubs the back of his neck.

“Diana knows some Kryptonian too,” he says, “but Bruce is as fluent as I am. When your dad does something, he never does it halfway. Always the overachiever.”

Tim’s heart does a happy flutter when Clark says the word Dad. Clark misreads the skipped heartbeat and his eyes dart to Tim.

Tim mouths the words, so Bruce doesn’t hear, You called Bruce my dad and I liked it.

Clark gives Tim a huge smile, and stands up before Bruce can realize anything’s up.

“Feel better, buddy,” Clark says. As he walks away, he adds, “If it really starts to hurt, don’t be a hero. Let me or Ma know, and we can give you some painkillers.”

Bruce grunts in the affirmative, and Clark gives Tim a wink before he leaves.

When it’s just Bruce and Tim, Bruce bumps Tim’s shoulder with his. It’s something Bruce came up with when Tim gets too overwhelmed for a hug. Tim likes it because it’s something just him and Bruce do.

Tim looks over at Bruce and frowns, “I mailed you and Alfie a postcard, but you’re both on the same vacation as me. The only one that isn’t here is Wally. I guess my postcard worked.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce asks.

“On the postcards I sent to you and Alfie I wrote, I wish you were here.” He adds with a smile,” and my wish came true.”

 

____

 

Dick tilts his head.

“I don’t know, B, I’m not sure if the barn loft has the structural integrity to hold all of us,” he says, pulling on one of the wooden planks on the underside to test out the strength.

After the dinner fiasco, Ma decided that everyone was too upset, and it had gotten too late for anyone to drive back home. Uncle Eddie and Amy are staying in the guest room. Alfred is staying in Clark’s old room, but Clark’s bed is a twin bed, so Bruce’s only choice is to bunk with the boys in the barn.

Jason knocks on the side of the wooden structure.

“We’ll be fine, Dickie,” he says. “Besides, if this whole loft comes crashing down, we’ll all land on the giant pile of soft hay under us.”

Dick hops into the bed and Bruce lifts Jason, and then Tim into the bed so they don’t have to climb up the side. He lifts Princess onto the bed next. Lastly, he hoists himself up into the wooden bed and Jason instantly curls up next to him.

Dick whispers to Tim, “Do you want to be on the outside? I know that you don’t like when people crowd you.”

Tim nods and takes the outside, but at some point, Dick rolls over in his sleep, and Tim ends up tangled in limps and blankets just like everyone else.

When morning arrives, everyone piles out of bed and gets ready for breakfast. Bruce doesn’t have a change of clothes, and he refuses to wear any of Clark’s flannels, so he goes down for breakfast in the same wrinkled suit that he slept in.

When they sit down for breakfast, Jason mumbles under his breath, “You’re gonna give Alfie a heart attack, B.”

Alfred frowns at Bruce’s wrinkled suit as predicted, but thankfully that’s the extent of Alfred’s disappointment.

Breakfast is filled with delicious food and laughter, and once it ends everyone says goodbye to Uncle Eddie and Aunt Amy. Bruce elbows Clark when he catches him tilting his glasses up and looking a little too long at Amy’s stomach.

When Eddie and Amy are gone, Clark, Jason, and Dick help Ma clean up breakfast, and Tim asks if he can show Bruce all the animals before they have to leave.

Tim takes Bruce on the grand tour. He shows him the cows, and the pigs, and the baby chicks, and the non-baby chickens, and the rooster, and the horses, but he leaves the alpaca for last.

Tim finally walks up to the fence that separates him from his fluffy friend, his fuzzy soulmate, the floofy love of his life.

“This is Bruce the Alpaca. Can you buy him for me, please?”

“I’m sorry, Timmy, but I think Bruce is happy living at the farm.”

Tim shakes his head.

“He’s happy, but he doesn’t know what living in the Manor is like. What if he likes that more? We should let him try it out.”

After a few minutes and some of Tim’s best negotiation skills, Bruce and Tim come to a mutual agreement that Bruce the Alpaca is staying on the farm, much to Tim’s disappointment. Tim gives his furry friend a hug, and whispers, “Don’t worry. This isn’t over. Next time we visit, I’ll take you home with me.”

Bruce (the human) and Tim go back inside to help pack and say their goodbyes.

Jason hugs Ma extra tight. She squeezes him just as tight and says, “Come back soon, little Jason. Don’t be a stranger, ya hear?”

Jason wipes his eyes with his sleeve and nods.

Bruce, Alfred, and Princess had arrived via the Superman Express, but they decline his offer to fly them back, and instead, everyone piles into Dick’s car, and they head back home. Bruce is driving this time, so Dick has to literally beg him for an emergency pit stop, and to get back at him, Dick starts singing This is the Song That Never Ends. Tim and Jason join in, and when Princes starts howling along, Bruce apologizes and agrees to stop the car any time Dick wants. Dick proceeds to ask him to stop at the next ten rest areas, giving the excuses of, “Princess needs to go for a walk”, or, “We ran out of gummy worms”, or, “that looks like a cool place for Timmy to take a picture.”

Eventually Bruce stops worrying about getting home as fast as he can. He cranks up the radio and enjoys the ride.

 

_____

 

Tim loved his vacation on the farm, but the best part of being back home is that he doesn’t have to wake up at five o’clock in the morning. Jason, Dick, and Bruce had to go straight to patrol when they arrived home, so it’s not surprising that today’s breakfast isn’t served until noon.

Tim hums as he happily munches on his hash browns. Dick is slurping his cereal, and Jason is also eating hash browns. Bruce is sipping coffee, but takes a break, and puts his coffee mug down on the table carefully.

“Timothy?”

Oh no. He’s using the full name.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about. It has come to my attention that you were involved in a Superman fight.”

Tim’s eyes dart to Dick and Jason, but they both shake their heads. That must mean that Superman is the snitch. It’s always the quiet, polite guys.

Tim chews on his lip, “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it’s not Superman’s fault either. When he got attacked by the robot, he knew that I was in danger if he kept holding me, so he put me down in a place that he thought was safe. Please don’t yell at him. You can yell at me.”

“I’m not mad,” Bruce says, his mouth is downturned slightly. “I’m not going to yell at anyone, but after breakfast, we’re going to go into the living room and we’re going to have a discussion.”

“A lecture?” Tim asks.

“A lecture,” Bruce agrees, sipping his coffee again.

 

_____

 

Tim is sitting on the living room couch with his hands folded on his lap. His Mom and Dad have given him so many lectures in his life. Most of them ended with Jack throwing things, and Tim running to his room for safety. Bruce is so much stronger than Jack, so if he starts throwing things, Tim might have to duck under the couch for safety. His guest room in the Manor is too far away.

Tim sits up as straight as he can, he doesn’t want to look like he’s taking the lecture lightly, but when Bruce walks through the room, he’s carrying a projector screen with tripod legs, and he’s dressed in his full Batman suit. Jason is trailing behind him, dressed in a normal red hoodie, and Dick is wearing a superman t-shirt.

Batman puts down the projector screen, and starts to adjust the projector legs, but his injured hand makes it difficult. Dick rushes over to help him unfold it, while Jason turns on the projector.

A PowerPoint slide appears on the screen. The slide is a picture of Superman using his heat vision to fry some bad guys and there’s a caption under it.

What to Do When the Superhero Fight Comes to Your Front Door.

“Is this a PowerPoint presentation?” Tim squeals.

“Yes it is,” Batman says. “Dick, Jason, and I will also act out a few scenarios where more emphasis is needed.”

Tim claps his hands and bounces up and down. This is going to be so cool!

Batman gives Tim a notebook and a pen to take notes, and Tim is pretty sure he just died and went to Heaven.

The first few slides deal with the different classifications of a fight. A ground-based fight is much different than an air-based fight. A water-based fight is the most dangerous, and a space-based fight is something, but Tim’s mind shorts out when he starts thinking about being in outer space, and he misses the information on that one. He has to remember to ask Batman if he can go back to certain slides at the end.

When the first scenario slide comes up, Tim raises his hand.

“Yes Tim?”

“You spelled Batman with a C. It says Catman.”

 

In the first acted out scenario, Jason is a civilian walking down the street, when he sees Superman (Dick in a Superman t-shirt) attacking a giant robot. Batman goes over all the aspects of the fight, and Tim even gets to come up close, and he’s instructed to move civilian Jason to where he feels is a safe distance from the fight.

The presentation and the scenarios are really fun. Tim takes pages and pages of notes. When Jason switches clothes with Dick and takes on the role of Superman, Tim even gets to do a little play sparring with him.

There’s a quiz at the end, that Tim aces, and his reward consists of a high five from Jason and Dick, and a hair ruffle from Bruce.

Bruce kneels down and puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder. Tim shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“I was really nervous. I thought you were going to yell at me and throw things like Mom and Dad do. A lecture always means that I’m going to get yelled at and I’m going to bed without dinner.”

Bruce moves his hand from Tim’s shoulder to the back of Tim’s head.

“Timmy, I was really upset when Superman told me about how close to danger you were, but I was never mad at you. Even if you chose to put yourself in danger, I wouldn’t yell, but we’d have to talk about it. I know you, Tim. I know that you will get yourself into far more dangerous situations, and I’ll want to tear my hair out, but we’ll get through it. You’ve been yelled at, insulted, and terrorized by a man that calls himself your dad for your entire life. I don’t want to be that man. My job is to keep you safe, and I take that job very seriously. Keeping the people I love safe, is the most important thing to me. It’s something I do when I’m in the suit and also out of it. Alfred once told me that saving the world makes me the Bat, but caring about the people in that world makes me the man. Does that make sense, kiddo?”

Tim nods, and Bruce scratches the back of Tim’s scalp making him smile.

Tim wants to keep all the people he loves safe too, and he smiles to himself as he helps Bruce fold up the projector screen. Thanks to Bruce he knows exactly what he needs to do, and he has just the right plan to get it done.

Notes:

Could Tim's plan involve a fuzzy black alpaca? 😁 The next chapter is going to be wild.

Chapter 23: Tim's Fanboy Dreams Come True

Summary:

Tim has a plan

Notes:

Prompt #21 - swoon

The piece of looseleaf paper crinkles in Tim’s hands as he looks down at his speech. He tries to calm his nerves by running his fingers along the raggedy torn edge created from removing the page from his spiral notebook. It works, kind of.

He isn’t wearing a magical hoodie, or any other kind of Wayne magical clothing for his presentation. Instead, he’s wearing a customized Justice League hoodie that he ordered online from a shop that makes custom hoodies. The woman that owns the shop is really nice and she sent a free sticker and a handwritten note with the order. Tim put the sticker on his laptop, and he hung the note on his corkboard. He also gave the woman’s shop five stars and a long, very positive review.

Tim really wanted to borrow Jason’s Wonder Woman socks, but Jason is standing next to him, wearing them right now, along with his blue Wonder Woman sweatpants, with the yellow stripes on the sides.

Tim clears his throat and begins his speech.

“My name is Tim Drake, and I am requesting just a few minutes of your time. I’m not sure if superheroes take requests from civilians, but I’m not really a civilian because my family are superheroes, well they’re not yet officially my dad and brothers, but Batman promised, so it’s going to happen. Anyway, I know that you guys are busy doing Justice League things, and that’s probably why you’re all sitting in the Watchtower conference room in the first place, but um, I need… I need to tell you something.”

Tim bites his lip, and his hands are really starting to shake. This was so much easier when he rehearsed it in his room. Now that he’s actually standing in front of the actual Justice League, and Wonder Woman and Green Arrow are actually looking back at him, he feels like he’s going to either throw up or pass out.

Jason puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder and his voice is soft and encouraging. “You’re doing great Timmy. Just take a breath and take your time.”

Tim nods, and takes a deep breath, like Robin told him to. He uses this breathing time to glance up at Batman. He’s in his full suit, just like everyone else at the giant conference table. His mouth is a perfectly straight line, and the white-out lenses of his cowl are a little scary, but mostly he looks confused. It’s probably because Tim teleported to Justice League Headquarters unannounced.

He focuses on Superman’s familiar face, smiling back at him, and then he looks back down at the speech in his hands. He exhales a deep breath and looks down at the crinkled looseleaf page. He can do this. He’s going to tell Bruce and all of Bruce’s friends why it’s a good idea for him to be allowed to adopt Bruce the Alpaca. The League are Bruce’s best friends, so they can definitely help convince him.

“I want to adopt Bruce, and I have listed ten reasons why I would be the best choice to adopt him. Please hold all your questions until the end. Here we go. Why do I want to adopt Bruce? Reason number one, he’s fuzzy and cuddly, and I need to be around more people like that in my life right now. If Bruce spots you first, he’s going to run away from the cuddles, but if you catch him and give him a hug, he’s like a giant teddy bear.”

Batman clears his throat, but Tim continues.

“Number two, Ma Kent gave me permission to adopt him and said it might be the best for both of us. Which leads me to point number three, she told me that Bruce is antisocial. I understand what it’s like to be afraid that people will judge you, but I can be there for him and make the world a little less scary.”

“Number four, he gets grumpy if someone doesn’t brush his hair for him, and I just bought a brush on-line that makes a jingling sound that I think he’ll love.”

“Number five, he likes to spit when he gets angry, so I’ll have to break that habit of his, but if he gets too fussy about that, I can get Alfie to help me because Bruce is a lot bigger than me, and I might need an adult to help bring him back under control.”

“Number six, he’s shy, curious, quiet, and very intelligent. That’s not really a reason why I should adopt him, I just wanted you guys to know that.”

“Number seven, I know what foods he likes, and I’ll make sure he eats them all. He likes healthy food, but he likes sweet treats too.”

“Number eight, Bruce hums when he’s angry, but also when he’s happy and calm. I’ll make sure to learn what the different hums mean so I can understand when he’s communicating his needs.”

“Number nine, Bruce gets cold, so I have to make sure his bed is extra warm.”

“But most importantly, number ten, I love him. It will take a lot of work to keep him healthy, happy, and thriving, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Keeping the people I love safe is the most important thing to me, just like Batman. I hope you all agree. Thank you for your time. The meeting is now open for questions.”

Tim folds the paper, signaling he’s finished, and looks over his shoulder at Jason, who is trying his absolute best not to burst out laughing. Jason bites his lip hard and gives Tim a thumbs up.

Tim looks back at his audience. Multiple pairs of wide eyes are looking back at him. Batman’s eyes aren’t wide, though. He has his typical Batman look. That look means he’s either going to beat you to a pulp, or he’s happy to see you, or sometimes both.

Batman stands up and all eyes shift to him. He’s the leader, so it makes sense that he’s the one that has the first question. Batman had told Tim that a leader should always be inquisitive.

“For the record,” Batman says. “Bruce is the alpaca that Tim met on Clark’s farm that he wishes to adopt. He’s referring to the alpaca.”

There’s a mumbled chorus of, ‘oh’ or ‘okay’ and a few ‘That makes more sense.’

Clark slaps the table. “If this is up for a vote, I vote yes.”

“This is not up for a vote,” Batman says in the most Batman voice ever.

The Flash chimes in, “I can’t judge some of the points the kid brought up without seeing a picture of Brucie.”

“I have one,” Tim shouts, scrolling quickly through his phone. He passes the phone over, and Flash coos, “Aww, he’s adorable. He’s almost as adorable as you, Timmy. The B-man never told any of us he was getting another tiny Robin. Pleased to meet you.”

When Flash flashes his megawatt smile, Tim full on swoons. He has to lock his knees just to prevent himself from falling over. His Fanboy heart is so full right now.

Batman brings him back to reality.

“Tim, why did you come to tell me this at my place of work?”

“This isn’t your workplace,” Tim says. “Wayne Tower is where you go to work, the Watchtower is where you come to hang out with your friends.”

That gets a hearty round of laughs, and Jason is cackling from behind Tim.

Batman clears his throat. His voice is a mix between Bruce’s gentle deep voice, and Batman’s monotone voice.

“Maybe we should resume this conversation at home. I’m not sure that this is the right place to have this discussion.”

“Nonsense,” Wonder Woman says, putting an arm around Batman’s shoulders. “As the child has said, you are amongst friends. We can all help with this important decision.” Wonder Woman shifts her sparkling blue eyes to Tim. “Young Timothy, I have been bestowed with the gift of empathy from the goddess Athena, and I know that your words of love for this alpaca are pure and true, even without the aid of my lasso. You have a very kind heart. And hello again, Jason.”

Jason stutters, “Uh, um, h-hi Wonder, um, Wonder Woman.”

“You can call me Diana, Jason.”

“O-Okay, Diana.”

A chair leg squeaks as Green Arrow leans back in his chair.

“I think the kid should be able to adopt Batman. Bats needs a little guidance.”

Bruce glares at him. “Let me reiterate again that Bruce is an alpaca. I, as a human adult man, am not available for adoption. Also, the League is not voting on this manner.”

Flash shakes his head.

“Nah, we should vote on this. The kid came to us with a well written presentation. Hey, kid, do you have any other pets?”

Tim takes a deep breath, but Batman holds up a finger. Tim holds that breath as Batman informs the League that purchasing a pet does not require superhero assistance. It’s a rather long explanation and Tim isn’t sure how much longer he can hold his breath. He’s already starting to feel dizzy and he really, really wants to let go of his breath.

He bounces on his toes to hopefully get Batman’s attention before he passes out. Batman is mid-rant when he glances over at Tim, but he stops immediately, and he slips fully into his dad-voice.

“Timmy, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Batman runs over and kneels down in front of Tim, and holds him by the shoulders. Tim lets out all the air in his lungs and breathlessly says, “You held up a finger, and that means freeze. You took a long time talking and I really needed to breathe. If I had Robin training, I could hold it longer. Can I have Robin training?”

“You can’t ask me that here, or the League is going to want to vote on it,” Bruce says with a chuckle.

Flash gasps, “Did Batman just laugh?”

Batman sends Flash a death glare.

“Uh, did I say laugh?” Flash backtracks. “I totally didn’t see a laugh. Or hear a laugh. Or a chuckle. Nope. No giggles of any kind escaped that man’s lips. Nope. No way. Nada.”

Batman turns back to face Tim and sighs, “We can take a vote if you want, but only on the alpaca issue. The Robin training decision has to involve Alfred and Nightwing.”

 

______

 

Tim is sitting in the Justice League’s cafeteria eating a grilled cheese sandwich. It’s a victory meal because all the members of the Justice League voted in favor of Bruce’s adoption. Superman agreed to fly Bruce the Alpaca to Wayne Manor tonight. Tim can hardly wait.

Jason opted for the cheeseburger and fries, and if Tim didn’t know better, he could forget that he’s at an outer space superhero hideout and mistake the Watchtower for his school cafeteria. Although, he never got to sit with Robin, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman at school lunchtime.

Bruce takes his sandwich out of his bagged lunch from Alfred. He peels off the clear clingwrap and looks at Tim. He’s so much more casual without the cowl. He has the rest of the Batsuit on, including the gloves. Tim has a feeling that Bruce is keeping on the gloves to hide his hand injury. Superman knows because he was there when it happened, but maybe Wonder Woman doesn’t know.

Bruce takes a careful bite of his roast beef on rye, before asking Tim, “How did you get access to the Tower?”

“Dickie has a code,” Tim says, and then quickly realizes that he probably shouldn’t use Dick’s civilian family nickname at a place like this. “Nightwing used his code and then used two override codes to let me and Jason inside. He was just as excited about my speech as I was.”

“I’m sure he was,” Batman mumbles into his sandwich.

Jason devours his hamburger and fries, finishing even before Clark does.

Bruce nudges his head toward the lunch line.

“Do you want another one, Jay?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I need to, um, I need to go to the bathroom first.”

Bruce puts his half-eaten sandwich down.

“I’ll show you where it is. The Watchtower is a big place, and I don’t want you to get lost.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jason says rolling his eyes. The look of disappointment on Jason’s face makes it obvious that his trip to the bathroom was just an excuse to wander around Justice League Headquarters and look at cool stuff. Tim kind of had the same plan, but as usual, Batman is two steps ahead of everyone.

Bruce walks off with Jason, and when they’re out of earshot, Tim puts his hands on the table and leans forward, looking directly at Wonder Woman.

“I need to ask you something,” he says. “It’s okay that you’re here too, Uncle Clark, because you’ll hear it anyway. I need to know everything you can tell me about magical things. I have something, um, a few somethings at my house that are magical, and I don’t mean my Drake Manor house, I mean my Wayne Manor house. Well, there’s probably a few magical things at Drake Manor because Mom and Dad are archeologists and they find really cool ancient things and sometimes people call the house phone and their number comes up as spam likely, and then the caller is like, ‘You people desecrated sacred graves and you should burn in you know where’, and then there’s a lot of f-words, and b-words, and s-words and d-words, and mother f-words, and – oh, sorry, Focus Tim.” Tim takes a breath and then continues, “I need to know about magic. Like, if I bring something that I think has magic on it, can you scan it and then I can know for sure? Or maybe your lasso of truth can sense real magic?”

Wonder Woman sips her iced tea and nods.

“My lasso of truth can tell me many things about the truth of a person or an object, but there are machines here that can analyze those properties as well.”

“I don’t have any of the magical things with me, but I can come back. Tomorrow, I have to help Dickie pack so he can move from Bludhaven to Gotham, but that’s in the daytime, so tomorrow night I’m free. If you could give me a day pass, I could come over using the Bat Cave’s zeta tube. No one will notice if I do it when everyone’s out on patrol. I’ll have to sneak past Alfie on the Bat computer comms, which is pretty easy. I’m really good at being sneaky. But we have to keep it a secret from Bruce, Alfie, and my brothers.”

“I will help you,” Wonder Woman says with a smirk. “Not only do I enjoy sneaking behind Bruce’s back, I also – nope, that’s the main reason I will help you.”

“I’ll be there too,” Superman says with the same smirk as Wonder Woman.

Tim opens up the calendar on his phone.

“So tomorrow after 8PM is good for everyone?” Tim asks.

“Yes,” Wonder Woman says.

“That’s a good time for me as well,” Superman says entering the appointment in his phone, and talking out loud as he does it. “Just let me clear out all my Daily Planet appointments. Okay, now putting you in as Top-Secret Mission with Tim. And… done. It’s a date.”

Tim, Wonder Woman, and Superman share a laugh at that. They’re still laughing when Bruce approaches the table again (Jason is already on line for another cheeseburger and fries). Bruce sits down and goes back to work on his sandwich.

“Am I allowed to hear the joke?” he asks.

“Yup,” Clark says, pushing his chair out, about to join Jason on line for seconds. “We were just saying how excited you’re going to be when I drop off your alpaca twin tonight.”

“I’m the superior Bruce,” Bruce says narrowing his eyes.

Clark calls over his shoulder as he walks away.

“Yup. Bruce the alpaca would say the same thing, Brucie.”

 

Later that night (technically 3AM)

Bruce is standing in front of the temporary wooden pen Alfred made for the alpaca in the West Wing of the mansion.

Human Bruce is wearing a black silk robe over a pair of black sweatpants and a black tank top. His socks are black, and his slippers are as well. His hands are on his hips and he’s looking at the alpaca.

“So, we meet again, Bruce.”

The alpaca stares back at Bruce, looking dark and broody. The look that Bruce the Alpaca is giving Bruce is familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on where he’s seen it before.

 

Notes:

Bruce isn't the only one that can do great presentations lol.

Chapter 24: The Train Ride

Summary:

Tim, Jason, and some Titan friends help Dick move out of his apartment. Timmy finds out just how much he truly is a magnet for danger.

Notes:

Prompt #28 - soothing touch

This chapter is a little intense, but intense now = cuddles later :D

“Richard John Grayson, you are a slob. You need to learn the skill of picking up after yourself.”

“You tell him, Wally,” Jason says with a laugh. “And you know it’s serious, Dickie, ‘cuz dude just full named you.”

Dick throws a pillow from his couch at Jason, but Jason ducks out of the way. The pillow collides with Tim’s face, sending him flying off the couch. Tim winces as he anticipates slamming his head into the corner of the small table next to the couch. Either he’s going to bash the back of his head into the table or he’s going to barely miss the table and fully body slam into the lamp on the desk.

Tim braces for impact, but instead he feels a pair of hands grab him and then a huge gust of wind. In a flash, Tim is whisked away from colliding with Dick’s apartment furniture. He’s safely in the arms of Wally, half-way across the room.

“Wow,” Tim says, because that’s the only thing he can think of.

“Any time, fellow citizen. They don’t call me a superhero for nothing. Still, Timmy, my guy, you’re like a little dude, but you’re like, a giant magnet for danger.”

Tim hops out of Wally’s arms and winces, “Dickie told you about the Superman incident, didn’t he?”

“Yup. Your big bro is two steps away from breaking out the bubble wrap and making a Timmy burrito.”

Tim is about to answer, but Dick scoops him up in a bear hug and Tim can barely breathe, let alone speak.

“I’m so sorry,” Dick says, squeezing Tim tighter. “That pillow was supposed to hit Jason. I was trying to yeet him out of existence, not you.”

“Help…” Tim wheezes.

Dick only squeezes Tim tighter. “I’m so so sorry, baby bird.”

“Ribs…” Tim wheezes.

Dick loosens the hug, “What did you say, T?”

“Causing… permanent… damage…”

Dick releases Tim from the bear hug and Tim takes a big, beautiful breath of fresh air.

Jason picks up a napkin off the floor. There’s a mystery stain on it, so Jason sniffs it and then gags.

“Whoa my god. That was so gross. That smells like the Joker’s actual ass, Dickhead.”

“When have you – ,” but Dick is cut off when Roy, aka Speedy, aka Red Arrow, aka Arsenal knocks a fist against the doorway. (He’s in the process of workshopping his hero name).

Roy leans against the doorway and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Hey Dickiebird, me and Gar were able to get your bed down the stairs and into the moving truck. I told him not to do it as a King Kong-sized green gorilla, ‘cuz the neighbors, ya know, but he did it, so I think the little old lady that lives next door, you know, the one that makes the really kick ass Earl grey tea? Yeah, she took a look at Gorilla Gar, and she may or may not have fainted.”

Dick groans as he runs out the door, with Roy following behind.

Tim picks up a slice of moldy cheese from the floor.

“Guys,” he says to Jason and Wally. “I think Dick is the reason that the apartment building had to be fumigated.”

“Totally. Dick one thousand percent needs an Alfred in his life,” Wally says, tossing an empty water bottle into the recycling bag.

When Dick comes back upstairs, he informs everyone that Roy was not overexaggerating, and the nice lady that lives next door and makes really good tea, had in fact, lost consciousness.

Gar perches himself on the arm of the couch.

“I didn’t mean to scare her,” he says, looking really guilty. “Maybe I should’ve turned into something a little cuter.”

Gar morphs into a little green spider monkey. Tim squeals and picks him up.

“Timmy,” Dick warns. “You can’t ask Bruce to adopt him.”

“I wouldn’t mind if Bruce Wayne adopted me,” Gar says, wrapping his tail around Tim. “Dude is like a bizillionaire.”

Tim pets Gar’s little fuzzy head and Gar nuzzles against Tim’s neck.

Dick takes over the heavy lifting job from Gar, and the couch is the next thing that Dick and Roy haul out of the apartment.

In a few hours, Dick’s apartment is fully cleared out, and all the helpers are enjoying pizza for lunch. All the furniture has been removed, so everyone’s sitting on the floor to eat. Dick, Wally, and Gar tell stories about being Titan’s, and Tim and Jason hang on every word. Roy isn’t a Titan, but he adds his own interesting stories about working in the private security sector. He even tells a story about how he once had a job as Lex Luthor’s security detail.

Tim is having the best time ever, but unfortunately, he has to cut things short. Dick, Roy, Gar, and Wally are going to hang out for a few more hours in Bludhaven, and then drive the rented U-Haul truck to Wayne Manor. Tim and Jason can probably squeeze into the truck too, but Tim promised Big E that he would take one last trip back to Gotham on the train, to say goodbye.

Tim waves goodbye to all of Dick’s friends, and somehow, Dick finds a way to fit his two brothers on his motorcycle, and then drive to the train station without getting caught by the police.

Big E actually steps out of the train to give Dick a hug. Dick gives the train engineer a hug that includes a firm pat on the back. When Dick ends the hug, he discreetly places a few folded up dollar bills into Big E’s hand, disguised as a handshake. Tim squints to see, and they look like hundred-dollar bills.

“Thanks for looking after my brother,” Dick says as he slips the money to Big E. “Take care of yourself.”

Big E smiles and ruffles Dick’s hair, “You’re just like your old man.”

Dick is still trying to get his hair back to original settings as Tim and Jason wave from the window of the train.

When the train fully pulls out of the station, Tim settles into his routine of looking out the window, and Jason begs Big E to let him drive.

Tim watches as the Bludhaven landscape turns into Gotham. Bludhaven and Gotham are both beautiful cities, but Tim’s favorite will always be Gotham.

The engine car is separate from the rest of the train. There’s a special lock on the door to make sure that it can be closed off during an emergency. It’s not soundproof though, and even through the thick door, Tim can hear people shouting.

Big E sighs, “I keep telling the big boss that we shouldn’t sell alcohol in the train. Getting drunk and rowdy on the train is starting to get out of hand.”

Tim looks at Jason instead of Big E. Jason is squinting his eyes, listening to the commotion. Tim isn’t sure if Jason can actually hear words, or if he’s just going off vibes, but something makes him twitch and then tense.

Jason’s eyes dart over to Tim, and he gives him a quick nod, before standing up.

“I’ll be right back. I just gotta pee real quick,” Jason lies.

Big E nods, “Sure, just be careful, Jason. It sounds like it’s getting a little rowdy out there.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m not looking for a fight.”

Tim locks the door after Jason leaves. A text from Jason comes through almost immediately.

Keep the door locked. I’m making a quick sweep of the train. When I come back, I’ll knock eight times. If you hear any other kind of knock or yelling DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR.

Tim shivers after reading the message. He remembers Wally saying he’s a magnet for danger. He’s so lost in that thought that he isn’t paying full attention when Big E says, “That must be Jason.”

Tim only realizes when he hears the click of the lock unlatching.

“No! Big E!” Tim yells, but it’s too late.

Three guys with Joker masks and baseball bats are pushing into the engine car. One of the guys swings at Big E, aiming for his head, but he puts an arm up to block the attack. The second hit comes as a fist to Big E’s face. That hit connects, and so does the next two.

One of the train hijackers, charges at Tim. He slaps Tim, sending him staggering back, but when he falls, Tim is right next to his coat that’s hanging on the seat. He shoves his hand into the hidden inside pocket and when the clown mask guy lifts his foot to kick Tim, the man gets a face full of pepper spray.

Tim’s attacker screams and flails blindly, but it’s enough of an opening for Tim to crawl past him and run out of the engine car and down the aisle of the first car. There’s thick smoke that Tim can barely see through, and people are screaming in the chaos.

The train lurches forward, making Tim trip and fall to his knees. The new faster speed must mean that one of Tim’s attackers has control of the steering. The lights cut out as well, adding more complications to Tim’s search for Jason.

Tim reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his emergency alert beacon. It’s a small round device that Tim can push to alert Batman, Robin, and Nightwing that he’s in danger, and his exact coordinates. It’s like the R symbol on Robin’s suit, but it’s a silent alarm so it isn’t connected to the comms. The only thing that shows that it’s working is a blinking blue light.

Tim holds the emergency alert beacon in one hand, and the can of pepper spray in the other, and crawls on his hands and knees down the aisle of the train. The emergency device and the can knock against the ground as he crawls, but he doesn’t want to let go of either of them.

Staying low is good, and he only gets stepped on twice, but the smoke is making him cough. His eyes are starting to water and he’s not sure if he actually has the physical strength to open the door that joins this train car to the next one.

He changes his plan when he reaches the last seat by the door. It’s empty, so he scurries into the safety of the seats. He stays low, curling up on the floor instead of the actual seats and hugs the emergency beacon and the can of pepper spray tightly against his chest.

He wipes the blood dripping from his nose, with his sleeve and tries to cough as quietly as possible.

 

_____

 

Jason’s running full speed, pushing through the train cars, trying to get back to the first car.

Jason taps his earpiece, “Yeah, I know, Wing. I’m trying to get to him. If I run any faster, I’m gonna fall on my face!”

Batman’s voice cuts in. Jason can hear the sounds of a motorcycle. “ETA two minutes. Hang in there, Robin.”

Nightwing is next to give an ETA. His voice is too loud and too staticky in Jason’s ear, making him wince. “Kid Flash is giving me a lift. We’ll be there in ninety seconds.”

Jason isn’t wearing his Robin suit, he didn’t think to bring it. The only thing he has is a red hoodie with the hood pulled up to somewhat conceal his face, because he’s drop kicked a few guys in clown masks, with skills an average kid shouldn’t have.

The smoke is thick and black, and that’s typical of the smoke bombs Joker’s goons carry. Thankfully, it’s not toxic.

Jason grunts as he slams into the door separating the train cars. The smoke kept that obstacle hidden until he literally ran right into it.

“Robin, what happened?” Batman asks.

“Slammed into a door,” Jason grunts, putting his full weight into pushing the door open. The space between cars gives him a second of fresh air, before he pushes the next door open and black smoke hits him in the face again.

“B, it’s smoky as hell and I can’t see shit. I can’t even see if people are injured. This sucks so bad. I – ”

“Jason?”

That’s Tim’s voice!

Jason turns in the direction of the sound and when Tim says Jason’s name again, Jason drops down to his hands and knees and sees Tim wedged on the floor of the seats. Jason scoots in with him.

“Timmy! Guys, I’m with Timmy. He’s okay. He’s – oh no – Tim, you’re bleeding.”

There’s a lot of shouting in Jason’s earpiece, but he blocks it out and focuses on Tim.

“Timbo, your nose is bleeding. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“The guy – the guy – the guy with the clown mask. He – he slapped m-me.”

Tim’s shivering and it’s affecting his speech. Jason has seen enough people going into shock to know the signs right away.

“He’s going into shock. No wounds that I can see,” he tells the voices in his comms. He directs the rest to Tim.

“It’s alright, buddy, I’m here. Robin won’t let anything happen to you. Did you hear that thud on the roof? That’s Kid Flash and Nightwing. Beast boy and Arsenal are on the way too. Batman’s less than a minute away. That’s more than enough heroes to save the day. I’m telling you this because I can hear the wheels in your head turning. You’re gonna tell me that you’re being an inconvenience and forcing me to stay here, so I’m calling preemptive bullshit on that, Timmers.”

Tim’s chin wobbles and his eyes fill up, but words flood out instead of tears.

“I got your text and I was reading it and I didn’t hear Big E go to the door, and then it was too late, and they hit him with a bat and punched him, and a guy slapped me and  I sprayed him with pepper spray and I tried to get to you, but I couldn’t find you, and I pressed the emergency button, and I couldn’t see, and I hid here because I didn’t want them to hit me again, but I kept hearing footsteps, I could feel the footsteps through the floor, and I knew they were going to hurt me again, and I’m so scared.”

Tim’s words turn to whimpers and the tears pour down his face.

“Oh Timmy. It’s okay. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere, understand?”

Tim chews on his lip and silently nods.

“Good, good. Alright, I gotta check you for injuries. I’m sorry, T. I know you don’t want that right now, but I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Tim cries harder as Jason does his assessment. Tim is reacting like Jason’s fingers are made of fire and each touch burns. Every time Tim whimpers in pain, Jason’s heart breaks a little more. By the end of Jason’s search for injuries, Jason is wiping away tears of his own.

“You did great,” Jason says with a sniff.

Tim answers by scooting as far away from Jason as he can manage in the small space.

“Are you mad at me?” Jason asks, his heart breaking a little more.

Tim shakes his head and throws up.

“Oh. That’s why you moved away,” Jason says, barely above a whisper.

Jason can hear the crackling buzz of electricity, which means Nightwing and his Escrima sticks are in this train car. There’s the piercing sound of shattered glass, and the black smoke moves toward the open window.

Another two rapid pops of shattered windows, and the black smoke is pouring out the window. When it’s clear enough for Jason to see better, he can see Kid Flash circling his hands at supersonic speed to create two wind tunnels, directing the smoke toward the smashed windows.

Kid Flash spots Jason and yells over the swirling wind, “Stay there. Me and Nightwing are clearing all the smoke from the train cars. This is the last car since we’ve been working back to front. Nightwing’s smashing the windows with his electric batons, which is why I’m going to start calling him Baton-man. I’m in charge of doing the swirly jazz hands to direct the smoke out of the smashed windows. Gar is helping the most critically injured passengers, and the guy with the arrows is taking out the last of the bad guys. Batman assigned us tasks over the comms, but it’s understandable that you missed it. Your mind is on more important things.”    

Jason’s not sure at what point the chatter in his earpiece had turned into white noise, but now that things are settling down, the noise has gone back to actual words that he can understand.

“How’s Big E?” he asks Kid Flash.

“He’s bloody, but conscious. Batman is with him and since Batman is the only one of us that knows how to drive a train, he’s making sure we pull into the next station. The paramedics are already there and waiting for us.”

Nightwing moves away from the smashed window and kneels down, as the train comes to a stop.

“I’m so proud of you, Jay,” Nightwing says. “A few of the passengers told me they saw a kid in a red hoodie kicking butt. You held things together until backup arrived. Dad’s going to be so proud of you too, Little Wing. Now, let’s get out of here.”

Jason tells Tim to hold onto the loose fabric of his hoodie sleeve, and the two walk out of the train, and leave the horrible ordeal behind.

There are numerous people injured, so medical workers are everywhere, and people are sprawled out on the train platform being tended to. Jason tells Tim to keep his head down, so he doesn’t have any additional images to add to the nightmares he’s almost positively going to have about this tonight.

A paramedic does a quick assessment on Tim, which Tim suffers through, whimpering even more than he did when Jason did it. The paramedic gives Tim a green wristband and tells him that because he’s not seriously injured, he won’t be going to the hospital yet, instead he has to stay inside the train station and wait for one of the on-site doctors to examine him and give him the all-clear.

Jason tells the paramedic that Tim was shaking really badly before, and he thinks he was going into shock. That info scores a nice, warm blanket for Tim.

When the blanket is presented to Tim, Jason can see his best friend’s face light up. He can also hear Tim whisper, almost too low to hear, “I’m keeping this.”

When the boys sit in the roped off area of the train station, the two sit in silence. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, it’s a nice decompressing silence.

After a few minutes Tim takes a deep sigh and leans his head on Jason’s shoulder.

“I’m feeling better,” he says softly.

“Can I put my arm around you?” Jason asks.

When Tim nods against his shoulder, Jason wraps an arm around him. He holds him tight enough to protect him from the world. It’s what he’s wanted to do ever since he first saw Timmy huddled under the seats. 

Jason rubs his thumb against Tim's shoulder, and Tim smiles at the soothing touch.

The tension in Jason’s whole-body releases and he wants to cry so badly, but he has to hold it together for Tim. He really wishes Dick were here, but all the superheroes are still superheroing.

His thoughts are interrupted by Tim’s voice.

“What do you think the odds are that I’m not going to have to go to the hospital?”

“You have one kidney and no spleen. There’s no way your butt isn’t going to the hospital.”

“Mmm,” Tim says shifting a bit against Jason’s shoulder to get more comfortable. “Statistically, I have a high possibility of needing my appendix removed, and my tonsils could go rogue too. A tooth isn’t an organ, but when I’m eighteen my wisdom teeth will start coming in and almost everyone gets those removed.”

“Timbo, can you stop being morbid?”

Tim continues to ramble, “Did you know that traveling by train is the fourth deadliest way to travel? It’s also the fourth safest way to travel because there are only seven choices. Death by motorcycle is way ahead of all of them. The train deaths are mostly from people crossing the train tracks wrong, not people inside the train dying. I looked that statistic up when I started taking the train. I still stand by the fact that it’s a safe way to travel.”

“That’s the hill you’re willing to die on? Train safety?”

“Yeah, I guess. Did you know that the guy most famous for saying ‘I will die on this hill’ actually died on a hill a few days later?”

“For real?”

“No, but it sounded cool.”

Jason laughs and leans his head against Tim’s.

“It’s good to have you back, little bro.”

Tim leans even more against Jason, and they both go back to a calm, comfortable silence. Jason closes his eyes. He can relax now.

 

Notes:

Jason continues to be Timmy's hero.

I have an update regarding the posting schedule. I'm soo close to finishing the last chapter and it looks like it's going to be 28 chapters (not quite 31 chapters, but I didn't finish in October either so that's a double fail lol). I'll be posting Friday and also Monday (Christmas), and the chapter for Christmas is super fluffy 😊

Thank you so much for all your comments and all the love you continue to show this story!

Chapter 25: Cancelled Plans

Summary:

Time for a little fun after the drama on the train :D

Notes:

Prompt #14 - "I hate it" "no you don't"

Tim presses the button on the hospital bed so that the back part rises up. Jason is sleeping soundly in the chair in the corner, and Tim doesn’t want to wake him, so he starts his important tasks for the day, as quietly as possible.

He had to stay overnight at the hospital, so he missed his meeting with Wonder Woman and Superman, and even worse, he didn’t get a chance to cancel. The medicine the paramedic gave him in the ambulance when he had a really bad anxiety attack, made him feel really loopy, and he didn’t even remember his plans.

Tim’s frown deepens when he remembers that Superman called it a date.

Tim opens the search box on his phone, and types.

Are you a terrible person if you stood someone up on a date?

According to the internet, Tim is the worst kind of person alive. The search results only mention standing up one person, but Tim stood up both Wonder Woman and Superman, so that must mean he’s twice as bad as everyone is saying. Wonder Woman and Superman said that he can call them Diana and Uncle Clark, which means they’re friends. According to people online, standing up a girl friend is just as bad as standing up a boy friend.

Tim’s next search is, How do you apologize if you stand someone up on a date?

The first suggestion is flowers. That’s easy enough. Tim doesn’t have Diana’s address, but he has Uncle Clark’s. He still has Bruce’s credit card info stored in his phone, so he uses the card to order a dozen long stem roses and double checks that he got the address for Uncle Clark’s apartment right, before he hits the confirm button.

Other suggestions involve writing a detailed email or leaving a message explaining why he missed the date. Tim’s brain is still feeling a little foggy, so he’ll wait to leave the message until he can think clearly and get it just right.

Tim follows more online advice, and he ends up sending Superman a box of gourmet chocolates, cookies in the shape of hearts, and a teddy bear that’s holding a heart that says, I’m sorry. He makes everything a double order so that he can bring the gifts to Wonder Woman when he gets the chance to go back, when they reschedule the date. Tim orders a necklace and earrings for Wonder Woman, because the internet told him to do that too.

He keeps reading things, which makes him keep buying things, until he gets really far down in the posts and people are saying things like kisses and more adult presents. Tim knows it’s time to leave the internet at that point, and he closes the search.

He hopes he’s bought enough things that his friends will forgive him. He’ll know soon, because everything that he sent to Uncle Clark, he paid for same day shipping.

A text pops up from Dick. It’s a photo of Dick and the alpaca with their heads pressed together so that they both fit in the selfie. After the picture, Dick sends a text.

Who’s cuter me or Bruce?

Tim starts to text back, but another picture pops up. This one is a picture of Bruce, in a business suit, hunched over his work computer. Bruce’s head has been replaced with the alpaca’s head and Dick added the words ‘Alpaca Wayne, No Days Off’ at the bottom of the picture.

Tim answers with a smiley emoji and the phone rings almost instantly.

“Hi, Dickie,” Tim whispers, putting in his earbuds. “Jason’s sleeping, so I have to keep my voice low so that I don’t wake him up. Are you at home?”

“Nope, I’m at the police station. Me and B are talking to Commissioner Gordon. Well, Batman’s talking to the commissioner, I’m sending pics of Bruce the Alpaca to you and Dad. Every time his Bat-phone goes off and he looks down to see it’s not an emergency and just another meme I made of the alpaca with his head, or his head on the alpaca’s body, a little piece of him dies. Bruce is about three gifs away from the light permanently going out of his eyes.”

Tim can’t help laughing. He tries to cover his mouth, but it’s too late. Jason groans from the chair and his eyes open, but he’s squinting from the bright hospital lights. His voice is thick with sleep.

“Tim? Wha- is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up, Jay. You can go back to sleep.”

Jason ignores Tim’s request and yawns, stretching his arms over his head.

“Ugh, my back hurts. This chair sucks. Fuck this chair. Oh... oh shit, is Alfie here? Sorry, Alfie.”

Suddenly Jason’s fully awake and alert.

“No, it’s just us,” Tim says.

“Was that Little Wing?” Dick asks in his ear. “Can you hand him the phone for a sec? I need to ask him something.”

Tim hands Jason the phone.

“Yup, go ahead Dickhead,” Jason says, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.

Tim may be a thief, but he’s not nosy – well, maybe a little nosy – still, he tries not to listen to Jason’s conversation. Instead, he focuses on the voice in the hallway, forgetting that listening to a stranger’s conversation is nosy too. His mother would be appalled.

Speaking of Janet Drake, there’s a voice in the hallway that sounds an awful lot like Tim’s mom. Tim listens closer.

“– been so difficult for me when I turned on the news and saw the train being hijacked. I knew that my darling Timothy was on that train. It’s a mother’s worst nightmare, knowing that my precious baby was scared and alone and I wasn’t there to kiss his little rosy cheeks, wipe his tears away, and tell him everything would be alright. To let him know that Mommy’s here.”

What?!

Tim’s mom has never kissed his rosy cheeks, and the one time he called her Mommy by accident during a fundraiser raising money to fight male pattern baldness, Tim still shivers when he thinks about the look his mother gave him.

Another voice joins the conversation, and it’s definitely Jack.

“You wanna know who I blame for this? I blame the fucking Batman. None of this would be happening if he wasn’t fighting those damn Gotham Rogues, or whatever the hell they’re called. It’s all his fucking fault. Oh wait. Am I allowed to swear?”

“We can edit that out in post,” a woman says. Tim recognizes the woman’s voice. She’s Gotham’s shadiest reporter, Vicky Vale. “Give me that same soundbite without the f-word just in case. I also need Janet to redo the quote, ‘When I heard Timothy was on the train, I rushed over to see him as quickly as I could. I just had to see him and hear his voice.’ If you can, try to cry when you say it.”

Tim can’t believe what he’s hearing. His mom didn’t rush over to see him. She still hasn’t seen him. She definitely hasn’t talked to him either.

“Mr. and Mrs. Drake, we should go see your son. I really want to work this feel-good angle.”

“Um, I’m not technically allowed to speak to Tim, or even be near him. The restraining order and all that bullshit,” Jack says with a grunt.”

“Not a problem,” Vicky says. “From what I heard from the head nurse, the only other person in Timothy’s room is Jason, and that’s the kind of kid that you can bribe with a sandwich, you know what I mean? If the judge has a problem after seeing the footage, let me handle it. Once Janet finishes retouching her makeup, we’ll go visit little Timmy.”

Tim waves his hands to get Jason’s attention. He knows Jason can read lips, so he mouths the words, “Mom and Dad are outside, and Vicky Vale is there too, and they’re about to come in here.”

“I’ll call you back, Dickie. Code ten emergency,” Jason says.

Tim can hear Dick shout through the phone, “Killer Croc is in the hospital?!”

“Wait, code ten is Croc? I thought that was the code for Jack and Janet Drake. Whatever. I gotta handle this. Tim’s eyes are bugging out of his head and I’ve either gotta hide him in the closet or under the bed.”

“I can’t move,” Tim says. “I’m attached to the IV. I have to stay in the bed.”

“Okay, what if you pretend to be in a coma?”

“I fidget too much,” Tim says fidgeting. “Plus, I don’t think I could pretend for long before I thought of something funny and started laughing, and if that happened and you were like ‘It’s a miracle. He’s awake,’ then it would give Vicky the huge heartfelt moment she was looking for, and if she wins a journalist award and Mom and Dad get sympathy from the judge, it would be a disaster.”

Jason’s head snaps toward the door. “Damnit, too late. Play dead.”

“You mean play coma,” Tim says, laying back down and closing his eyes.

Jason pulls the sheet up to Tim’s neck, and whispers, “Don’t think about funny things.”

“Why would you say that? Now all I can think about is –.”

Jason puts his hand over Tim’s mouth, while turning to face the door.

“Tim’s asleep,” Jason says softly. “He’s in a coma, but he can still hear everything we say. We can’t overstimulate him with conversation right now because this is his designated nap time. If you want to visit, you have to come back later. And you –,” Tim assumes Jason is looking at Jack, “– you can come back never, asshole.”

“Jason –”

“Nope,” Jason says cutting Jack off. “Take one step closer and I’ll pepper spray you. Have you ever wanted to feel what a thousand cayenne peppers straight to your eye sockets feels like? Take a step forward then, Jack. I dare you. Fuck around and see what happens.”

Tim holds his breath because he wants to laugh so badly. He can feel his eyes watering from the strain. Jason is physically blocking him from his parents and the reporter, so they technically can’t see him, but his eyes are closed so he can’t be sure.

He wipes his mind clear of the mental image of Jack Drake screaming, “My eyes!” and Jason standing over him yelling, “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset!”

Tim swallows down another fit of laughter. He swallows a little too hard and the urge to cough swells in his lungs. A few coughs tumble out and… oh no.

Jason tries to do damage control over the loud sounds of Tim’s coughing fit. “He’s – he’s still in a coma. It’s called a phantom cough and it’s, um …”

Tim’s cough turns into giggles and then Tim wonders if Jason will say he has a case of the phantom giggles, which causes Tim to start full on belly laughing.

Jason, the king that he is, rolls with this.

“Tim was hit with Joker gas on the train, but that has to stay off the record, understood? If one word of this gets out to the press, my dad will tell his good friend Batman, and you don’t want to make Batman mad. A mad Batman will pull out your entire skeleton whole from your mouth…”

Tim is cackling.

“… and then wear your skin like a new Batsuit, and then he’ll do a bat dance over your grave, but it won’t be like, a typical victory dance, it’ll be the cha-cha. Batman will cha-cha over your grave!”

Tim is laughing so hard that he can’t breathe. It’s just so stupid and Jason isn’t being fair!

Tim’s laughter turns into coughing again, and Jason sucks in air between his teeth.

“The nurse was saying something about it reaching a contagious stage if his symptoms don’t go away after ten hours. How long ago was the train accident?”

Tim can hear the sound of feet shuffling out the door and Janet mumbling something like, “Stay strong my precious prince,” and Vicky saying that using a school picture is just as effective as video in a hospital bed.

Tim is trying to catch his breath, while intermittently coughing. When he hears the door close, he cracks one eye open and then the other. And then he immediately starts cracking up again.

Jason narrows his eyes.

“Look, if somebody wasn’t so giggly, I wouldn’t have had to come up with that Joker gas lie. He never breaks out the laughing gas unless the head clown himself is actually there, in person. I don’t think Vicky knows that extremely obscure detail of Joker’s villain pattern.”

Tim wipes his eyes and sniffs.

Jason sits on the edge of the bed and plays with the can of pepper spray in his hands.

“I really wanted to pepper spray your dad in the face.”

“I would have opened my eyes, for sure, if you did that,” Tim says with a sigh. “It would have been so worth it.”

“Yeah, it totally would’ve.”

 

_____

 

Tim spins the hospital bracelet on his wrist with his fingers and looks at the red walls of his painted room.

“I hate it,” he says, but the statement is more sad than angry.

“No, you don’t,” Bruce says.

“I really do,” Tim says, trying not to whine. “I think the red is a little too red, maybe yellow is a better color.”

“Tim, these walls have been repainted every color of the rainbow. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’re stalling.”

Tim tries to keep his face as neutral as possible. Batman can spot a liar in an instant. The funny thing is, Tim didn’t think he was stalling, he really thought he wasn’t happy with any of the prior colors, but now that Bruce low key accused him of stalling, Tim thinks his subconscious might have been doing that all along. Because, once the room is painted, he can move the furniture in, and once the furniture can come in, he has to somehow move an entire closet full of stolen clothing all by himself. He’s so close to having proof that his family is harvesting magic in their tank tops, tees, scarves, and hoodies.

There’s a chance that the Waynes don’t know they are in possession of powerful magic, and if Tim is the one that breaks that news, he doesn’t want to be laughed at and dismissed. Option two is that the Wayne family does know that they’re harnessing ancient ancestral magic and they’re hiding it from Tim like they used to hide the Bat secret. If Tim claims that the clothing has magic and doesn’t offer enough solid evidence, they might try to deny it, and Tim may never be allowed to borrow a hoodie from Jason ever again.

The thought of not being able to steal Jason’s soft, fluffy hoodies and hoard them like currency is making Tim’s eyes burn with actual tears.

“Dad,” Dick says, angry enough to snap Tim out of his spiral. “You’re making Timmy cry. If he needs more time to decide the perfect color, then be patient with him. Not everyone is good at making decisions. Some people get anxious when they have to make a choice between two things. I mean seriously, what is the difference between Frosted Marshmallow O’s and Frosted Marshmallow Ring’s? They’re both cereals with frosted oats that are the exact same shape. How can one possibly taste different than the other? They’re both made by the same company, Bruce. And why the hell is the box of the frosted rings three cents cheaper? How can the same exact cereal be three cents lower in quality? It’s so specific and impossible.”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a slow, deliberate breath.

“I understand that decision making can be difficult. It is something I encounter every night as Batman, but the inability to make a decision is worse than making a poor decision. When a bad decision is made, you have the ability to see your mistake and move toward the right direction. Doing nothing at all leaves you in a perpetual loop of different colored walls. How about we stick with one color for a while and see how it settles.”

“Okay,” Tim says sheepishly, “but can we change the color one more time before we leave it? The blood red color is making me kind of dizzy.”

“Sure. What color are you thinking of choosing?”

“Black.”

“Black?”

“Yes. I want all the walls completely black. That will be the final color, I promise.”

Halfway through the paint job, Tim announces that he’s feeling a more yellow vibe for the walls. Bruce is seconds away from rage-quitting the painting project, but his phone buzzes in his pocket, delaying the rage.

“Dick, I swear, if this is another picture of that alpaca with my body pasted on it, I’m blocking your number.”

Bruce looks at the phone. His face goes from confused to exhausted, before he takes a dad-level sigh and looks at Tim. “I just received a bill for a dozen long stem roses and gourmet chocolates with a metropolis shipping label. Do you know anything about that?”

Tim shakes his head. “Nope.”

Notes:

Who thinks the walls are going to stay yellow? 😂

Chapter 26: A Long Walk and a Short Talk

Summary:

A cozy father-son talk :)

Notes:

Prompt #25 - Breakfast nook

Wayne Manor Estate is a beautiful house. It’s a huge mansion with so many rooms. Tim hasn’t even been to every room in the Manor. (Jason told him the attic is haunted, so he definitely hasn’t been there yet)

The architecture on the outside of the manor is regal and reflects that the house has been passed down through generations, each Wayne making sure that the estate continues to flourish.

The inside of the manor is just as impressive as the exterior, but at the moment, Tim is most concerned with the backyard. The outer grounds of the manor aren’t quite a field of green, like it is in the warmer months, but the pond is frozen over, and perfect for ice skating, and Alfred has decorated some of the Evergreen trees with colored Christmas lights, so the entire backyard still looks magical.

On one side of the property, there’s a marker indicating where the Wayne property ends, and the Drake property line starts. On the other side, countless trees lead a path into a dense forest that seems to go on forever. Tim loves animals, but he’s not interested in meeting any of the animals that make their homes in the never-ending forest.

(Except if there are bunnies living in the woods. He wouldn’t mind meeting some of the bunnies)

The winter wind starts to pick up. Tim is glad that he decided to wear his thick wool coat, and his warm fleece gloves, but he’s mostly grateful to be wearing Bruce’s warm, fuzzy, stolen magical scarf.

His fingers grip tighter around Princess’s leash because she’s starting to pull away. Princess loves going for walks, and her favorite place to walk is the backyard. Her tail is wagging and she’s pulling against the leash as hard as she can, which means she’s blissed out.

Tim is equally blissed out. He has a friend walking with him today, and that friend is Bruce. Both Bruces!

Bruce the Alpaca is out for a walk, and Bruce is holding his leash so that he doesn’t run away. Bruce (the human) is wearing a thick black pea coat, black gloves, and a black scarf as well, but it’s Bruce’s beanie hat that makes him look more like Bruce the Alpaca than he’ll ever admit.

Tim is going to keep Princess on the leash until she settles, and then let her run free, but Bruce the Alpaca has to stay leashed the whole time. He’s new to living at the manor, so he has to get used to the backyard for a few more days before he can roam around unleashed.

Bruce the Alpaca likes to prance more than walk, and Tim is finding it hard not to giggle at the sight of Bruce holding the leash of his prancing alpaca spirit animal.

Bruce and the alpaca have much longer legs than Tim and Princess, so Tim is struggling a bit to keep up, especially with Princess trying to pull him in the opposite direction. Bruce eventually slows down to a more manageable walking pace, but with the slower pace, comes a distant look in his eyes.

“Tim,” he says softly. His voice is low enough to almost get swallowed by the wind. “I need to talk to you about something important. It’s about your adoption.”

“Have you changed your mind?” Tim asks.

“No, of course not. There’s nothing I want for you more than to have a safe home, and for you to remain here with me, Alfred, and the boys. I love having you here, Tim, but the formal adoption Is going slower than I had hoped. Jack broke the restraining order yesterday when he visited you in the hospital, and the hospital workers were required to report it, and long story short, he had to pay a fine, but his actions have delayed his criminal trial and in turn has delayed the case in family court that deals with your adoption.”

Tim blinks away tears. “He always does things like that. He doesn’t feel like a dad. I don’t want to call him Dad anymore.”

“Is that what you want?” Bruce asks.

Tim nods. He really doesn’t want to call Jack Dad ever again.

“If that is what you wish, then it’s not a problem. When I’m speaking, I will exclusively refer to him as Jack instead of saying ‘your father.’ I’ll let Alfred, Dick and Jason know as well. I respect your wishes, and I’ll try my best not to call him your father in the future. If I accidentally misspeak, please call it to my attention.”

Bruce’s voice loses the formal edge when he continues.

“If I’m being honest, I feel like a bit of a failure. I didn’t think it would be this difficult fighting for custody when I’m fighting against two people that are grossly unfit to be parents. It’s a father’s job to make life easier for their children. If I could, I’d give you and your brothers everything in the world that you ask for.”

“Even one of Ma and Pa’s baby chicks?”

“Almost everything,” Bruce says with a laugh. His warm laugh travels through the chilly winter air.

“I want a baby chick, but I also want to call you Dad.” Tim likes how it sounds, so he says it again. “Dad.”

Bruce stops walking.

Tim waves his hands, causing a little more slack on Princess’s leash.

“No! I didn’t mean, like, all the time. I’ll still call you Bruce. I like Bruce. Bruce is a nice name and I’m not actually your son, so it wouldn’t be fair to Dick and Jason if I called you Dad, but it’s just that whenever Uncle Clark talks about you, he calls you my dad, and that makes me feel really warm and nice inside, because you’re like, the best dad in the world, and I know that doesn’t mean much coming from a kid that has a dad like Jack, but I know that Jason thinks it too, and he had a bad dad too, so that’s a bad example,  but Dickie had a great mom and dad, and I know that he thinks that you’re the best dad, or at least tied for the best dad with Mr. John Grayson, and, um, please say something because I’m running out of things to say.”

Bruce’s eyebrows are drawn together because whenever Tim talks, even if he’s rambling, Bruce always listens intensely. Bruce gives the leash in his hand a little slack so he can kneel down to be level with Tim.

“When you call me Dad, it makes me feel really warm and nice inside too.”

Tim has to stand on his toes when he gives Bruce a hug, even though Bruce is kneeling. Princess is more interested in sitting in the grass than worrying about the hug, but Bruce the Alpaca decides enough is enough, and eventually starts to chew on Bruce’s beanie hat.

Bruce releases Tim from the hug and gives Timmy’s hair a ruffle.

“You shouldn’t be outside without a hat, son.”

As Bruce continues to mess up Tim’s hair, Tim whines, “Daaad, stop.”

Bruce chuckles, and they both go back to walking Bruce the Alpaca and Princess. Tim uses his free hand to fix the damage Bruce did to his hair. His attempts prove futile, and he gives up with a defeated sigh. His only consolation is that his hair definitely looks better than the hat hair Bruce is going to have.

 

____

 

Tim races up the stairs and runs to Jason’s room. Bruce is returning Bruce the Alpaca back to his indoor alpaca habitat, and he told Tim to bring Jason down to the breakfast nook in the kitchen for some hot chocolate.

Tim reaches Jason’s doorway, and the door is open, but Jason is sitting on his bed, talking to someone on the phone.

Jason looks up, because he’s Robin, and there’s no way Tim can sneak up on him. Tim takes a step back, because he doesn’t want to intrude on Jason’s private phone conversation, but Jason waves for him to come inside, and pats the side of the bed for Tim to sit next to him.

Jason clicks the phone on speaker and keeps talking as Tim walks over.

“– no ma’am. I wouldn’t say I was a hero, I just needed to get to Tim. I had to make sure he was safe.”

“You’re such an amazing big brother,” the voice says through the speaker. Tim recognizes Ma Kent’s voice and smiles.

Jason’s blushing a deep red, and he clears his voice before he says, “Tim’s here. I have you on speaker phone, Ma.”

“Hi, Ma,” Tim says, waving, even though she can’t see it.

“Well hello my little alpaca thief. Jaybird was telling me about the awful ordeal you two had on the train. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. It must have been mighty scary. Are you doing okay, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah. My face is still bruised around my eye, where the guy slapped me, but I’m okay. Thank you for asking.”

Ma laughs, “Such a sweetheart,” and then Ma and Jason go back to talking to each other. Jason tells Ma about the new book that he’s going to start reading. He asks about Pa, and Tim settles in against one of Jason’s pillows as Ma tells the boys about the new crop Pa wants to grow.

Jason’s whole face lights up as he listens to Ma, and Jason being happy makes Tim happy.

Eventually Ma says, “I’ll let you boys go. I know you two have important things to do.”

Tim nods, “We’re having hot chocolate, which is really nice because I’m still cold from being outside. I think Bruce really liked his walk.”

“Bruce the Alpaca,” Bruce yells from the hallway. “The alpaca enjoys being walked,” he clarifies.

“Hello, Bruce.”

“Hi Ma,” Bruce says, popping his head in the doorway. “Boys, the hot chocolate is ready. Alfred put out bagels too.”

Jason and Tim say their goodbyes to Ma, and then head downstairs to the kitchen. Tim passes the fridge and smiles when he sees the postcards he sent Bruce and Alfie hanging on the fridge. The postcards are right next to Jason’s latest science test, that he got an A+ on.

Dick is already sitting at the breakfast nook, staring at something on his phone with Princess on his lap. He glances up as Jason and Tim sit down, giving them a quick nod of acknowledgement before he drops the bad news.

“B, it looks like Riddler has something planned tonight. Babs just texted me that Gordon got a strange letter sent to the police station. It said something about sunsets and surprises, and Riddler signed his name on the bottom. We might need to start patrol early.”

Jason sits next to Dick and reads the text over his shoulder, but Dick holds it up high so Jason can’t see.

“I wanna see, Dickie. Gimme the phone,” Jason whines, as he pulls on Dick’s arm to bring the phone down so he can read.

“There’s no way in hell I’m giving you my phone. I have things in here that nosy little brothers shouldn’t see.”

Jason’s small, but he’s still strong enough to pull Dick’s arm down, so before the phone is in reach, Dick tosses it to Bruce. Jason punches Dick on the arm and Dick grabs Jason in a playful headlock. Jason struggles to get free, waving his arms and kicking his legs, but Bruce seems more concerned with Riddler’s riddle.

“This looks complicated. Before patrol we should head to the police station and talk to Gordon. If Riddler has spread out clues in various locations and he’s giving a sunset deadline, the earlier we start on this the better.”

Jason squirms out of Dick’s headlock and groans, “This means a long, boring patrol where we solve riddles and don’t do much fighting.”

“That’s right Jaylad. If you want to sit this one out and put in some extra time with your homework – “

“No, I didn’t say that,” Jason says quickly. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and there’s gonna be a huge explosive fight at the end.”

While the Bat team goes over patrol logistics, Tim tries to hide his excitement. An early patrol that’s guaranteed to go long into the night means he can sneak out to the Watchtower. He sends Superman a quick text, and he gets an instant reply of, “Sounds great. Me and Diana will be waiting.”

Tim sips his hot chocolate, as he starts to plan what pieces of clothing to take. He can wear some of the clothing, like the sneakers, Jay’s hoodie, and Bruce’s scarf. He’s so caught up in planning that he misses what Bruce just asked him. All he heard was his name at the end.

Tim is still distracted so he’s only using half his brain when he looks up and responds.

“What did you say, Dad?”

Tim suddenly becomes instantly aware of what he just said, because Bruce is looking at him as warmly as the hot chocolate mug in his hand.

The high-pitched sound of a saucer scraping across the table steals Tim’s attention. Dick is moving the plate with the butter spreader away from Bruce. It’s not as sharp as a steak knife, but it’s still technically a knife.

Tim looks at Jason, because it’s always easier to talk to him.

“I don’t want to call Jack dad anymore, so Bruce said it’s okay to call him Dad sometimes.”

Jason’s face lights up, “Timmy, that’s awesome. Jack can go F himself. Bold move replacing that dude with an alpaca.”

Tim laughs, and Jason lifts up his hot chocolate.

“This calls for a toast. Goodbye Jackass Drake. You lost the right to be called a father long ago. And hello to our newest brother. Three cheers for Tim-bro!”

  

Notes:

Timmy calls him dad now!!

The biggest surprise for me while writing (other than Uncle Eddie becoming so Uncle-shaped) is how close Ma and Jason got. I love Ma and Jason's relationship so much. It makes me tear up every time I write those two. Ma is 100% Jason's Ma now, and he's such an adorable mama's boy!

I'm aiming to get the next chapter posted on the 29th :)

Chapter 27: Time to Test the Magic

Summary:

It's time to find out if these hoodies (and other items) really have magic.

Notes:

Alt Prompt - Wearing each other's clothes

Tonight, Tim needs to be a master of stealth.

For his first act of deceit, he needs to sneak out of Wayne Manor without triggering the alarm system. He doesn’t need to actually leave the property, but he needs to get to the backyard to unearth a certain hoodie that he buried in Alfred’s rose garden.

In order to accomplish this, Tim hugs the walls as he maneuvers through long hallways and three different parlor rooms. Alfred is in the Batcave, helping the Bat team on comms, so the only obstacle between Tim and freedom, is the back door alarm.

Tim quickly disables the alarm (Babs would be so proud) and runs toward the rose garden. He’s armed with a shovel in one hand and a giant Ziploc bag in the other. He starts the nighttime excavation and can’t help thinking about his parents. He wonders if their adventures in archeology ever involved sneaking to an excavation site, cloaked in darkness, with the goal of finding a piece of precious treasure before the authorities caught them. At least in that scenario, Jack could be the lookout while Janet focused on digging. Tim doesn’t have that luxury. He has to pause his frantic digging every few seconds, and with a white-knuckled grip on his shovel, he looks from left to right, making sure Alfred hasn’t appeared in the backyard to scold him.

After a few rounds of digging and panicking, the shovel makes contact with the buried hoodie. Tim puts the shovel down and carefully puts on a pair of blue medical gloves he swiped from the medical kit in one of the guest bathroom’s medicine cabinets. He yanks out the hoodie and stuffs it into the giant Ziploc bag. Tim is taking the hoodie to be examined for magical abilities, but he has to make sure that the bad magic is contained until he gets to the Watchtower. Whenever the ads for Ziploc Heavy Duty Seal Bags pop up, right in the middle of Tim’s favorite videos, the ads promise that Ziploc has the tightest, toughest seal. Tim is pretty confident that the seal is tough enough to keep bad magic from leaking out.

With his unburied treasure in his hands, Tim does the best he can to refill the hole, but it’s dark and he doesn’t have much time, so if it looks weird, hopefully Alfred will blame it on the squirrels.

Tim looks over at the tree a few feet away from him and whispers, “Sorry, squirrels. I need you to take the blame this time, but I’ll bring you all some nuts as a thank you gift. I’m allergic to walnuts, and in case anyone in your squirrel family is too, I’ll bring a variety of nuts.”

He doesn’t hear rustling in the tree. Maybe the squirrels are asleep. He’ll make sure to talk to them again tomorrow.

The second, and final step of his plan, is to sneak past Alfred and hop into a zeta tube. This part is easier than expected. Alfred is busy directing the team on the Batcomputer, and since it’s Nightwing’s first real night back on the team, Nightwing is chatting away. Nightwing’s chatter floods through the Batcomputer’s speaker, filling the Bat Cave with enough noise to easily conceal the sound of Tim’s soft footsteps.

Alfred is glowing as he listens to his reunited family working together, which means that he doesn’t even hear Tim activate the zeta tube in the corner of the room.

Tim hugs the garment bag full of magical clothing against his chest and holds his breath as he’s zapped into outer space. It’s awesome, but also terrifying.

When Tim is successfully teleported to the Watchtower, he’s immediately greeted by Superman.

“Timmy! You made it!” he says, opening his arms wide.

Tim isn’t sure if Superman wants a hug or if he wants to take the garment bag off Tim’s hands. He takes a chance, and with the bag in his arms, he leans against the Man of Steel, giving him a sort of no-armed hug.

It must be the right choice because Superman wraps his arms around Tim. It feels nice.

Superman is super and doesn’t hug Tim for too long. When he releases him, Superman kneels down and is grinning from ear to ear.

“I have something for you little buddy.”

Tim hopes it’s a baby chick, but when Superman pulls out a VIP All Access ID badge from behind his back, Tim’s eyes double in size.

Superman hangs the VIP badge around Tim’s neck like it’s an Olympic gold medal. Tim hands Superman the garment bag so that his hands are free to rub against the lanyard of his new badge.

“Thanks Superman,” Tim says, as they walk down the hallway of heroes.

After an extremely long walk, through various hallways and corridors, they finally reach a door that has the word Restricted written on it. Superman points at a keycard reader on the side of the door.

“Swipe your card, Timmy.”

Tim does as told, and a green light appears over the keycard reader. The door clicks open and all hopes of Tim keeping the ID badge are gone. He’s definitely going to have to give the badge back before leaving the Tower.

When Tim enters the room, the lights click on, revealing a room that looks like a robotics laboratory. The robotic lab is filled with machinery. Tim’s eyes bounce from one piece of machinery to the next, not recognizing any of them. His mind fills with questions, but his questions are silenced when he sees a huge machine against the back wall.

Tim has no idea what a magical clothing analyzer looks like, but if he had to guess, it would look like the machine against the back wall.

Tim runs over to the machine that looks like a cross between a giant pod, and a vending machine, and puts a hand against the glass. This is the machine that will answer all of his questions. His heart is racing.

Superman walks next to him, holding the garment bag of magical items. “Are you ready, Timmy?”

“Boys, we’re you going to start without me?”

Tim can see the reflection of Wonder Woman in the glass, walking towards them. She gives Superman an angry look, but her eyes are soft when she looks at Tim.

“I’m sorry, Miss Diana. I got really excited, and I forgot to wait for you. Are you mad at me?”

“No, Timmy. Never,” she says with the warmest smile in the world. “But this one…” she cracks her whip and playfully clips Superman on his shoulder, “… I’m always mad at this one.”

Superman laughs, “Love you to, Diana.”

Wonder Woman rolls her eyes and faces Tim.

“Young Timothy. In order to start this process, you must put something inside of the machine that is truly bestowed with magic.” She removes her tiara and hands it to him. “Take my tiara. It is infused with the magic of Themyscira, the place of my birth.”

The tiara is warm in Tim’s hands. He doesn’t want to stop holding it. He stares at the tiara and words automatically fall out of his mouth.

“Jason would be so mad if he found out I got to hold this, and he didn’t.”

“What did you say little one?” Wonder Woman asks.

“Uh, nothing,” Tim says, remembering the task at hand. He puts the tiara into the machine.

Superman presses a button on the control panel and the glass part of the machine fills with a golden glow. The glow is so bright that Tim shields his eyes with his hand.

A mechanical voice says, “Magic detected.”

Tim looks at Wonder Woman and she nods, “Shall we begin?”

Tim looks at Superman and then back at Wonder Woman. He nods, too nervous to speak.

Superman holds the garment bag as Tim unzips it. Tim’s hands are shaking so much that the zipper pull slips from his hands twice as he unzips the bag. It’s embarrassing, but Superman doesn’t say anything, so it makes it a little less embarrassing.

When the bag is open, Tim takes out the first article of clothing. He holds Dick’s Gotham U hoodie in his arms. It’s just as soft, and inviting as it always is, and Tim has to resist the urge to hug the hoodie against his face and melt into the feeling.

His hands are trembling as he puts the hoodie into the machine. The glass glows like before, but it’s a blue glow. After a moment, a mechanical voice says, “No magic detected.”

Tim’s breath hitches. No. This can’t be right.

He takes the hoodie out of the machine carefully. He doesn’t want to put one of his most valuable possessions on the floor, so he places the non-magical hoodie onto a table right next to the machine.

Tim continues the process of analyzing his items, and it’s like a bad dream. Everything he puts into the machine is consumed by the blue glow and harshly rejected by the mechanical words, No magic detected.

Tim’s eyes fill with tears, and his vision blurs, as the machine rejects hoodies, and aprons, and sneakers, and scarves, and T-shirts, and everything else Tim has collected from his family. Tim wants to blame the failures on the fact that he brought the hoodie with the bad magic with him, but even that hoodie is determined magic-less.

He holds his last hope in his hands. It’s the hoodie that Jason gave him in the police station. It’s the hoodie that Jason claimed had magic in the first place.

Tim sniffs as he places the red hoodie into the machine. He grabs Superman’s hand and holds on tight as the machine starts to analyze.

The golden glow is so blinding that Tim squints. The mechanical voice says, “Magic detected,’ and Tim gasps. He looks over at Superman, who’s smiling as brightly as the golden glow of magic. Superman opens the machine and takes Jason’s magical hoodie out, but something isn’t right.

Superman’s brows furrow in concern and he reaches into a pocket of the hoodie and pulls out a small rock. A magical space rock.

Tim wordlessly takes the hoodie from Superman and puts it in the machine. He presses the button, and the glass fills with the familiar blue glow of rejection. Tim doesn’t even hear the words. All he can hear is Jack laughing in his head, telling him how stupid he was for believing that hoodies could be magical.

Tim buries his face in his hands and starts to cry. The tears turn to sobs.

His breathing stutters when he feels the weight of soft fabric on his shoulders. He moves his hands away from his face and sees Superman draping Jason’s hoodie over his shoulders.

Tim mumbles, “It’s not magical. It won’t help.” Still, he shrugs his arms into the hoodie and zips it closed. It feels warm, and nice, but not magical.

“Timmy,” Superman says, softly. His voice sounds as broken as Tim feels.

Tim looks up at his uncle and his voice shakes. “I was wrong, Uncle Clark. If I had told Bruce about my theory, he would have laughed at me. Jason’s science teacher is going to laugh at me. I thought I was smart like Batman and Mr. Cook, but I’m not. Jack was right. I’m just a dumb kid that should shut up because I have nothing worthwhile to say anyway.”

“Timmy, that’s not – “

“I wasted everyone’s time,” Tim says, tears running down his face.

“Not even for a second,” Superman says. The words are said with so much authority that Tim’s tears actually stop.

“Timothy Wayne…” the last name causes a new set of tears “… not a second of time that I spend with you has ever been or ever will be time wasted. I enjoy spending time with you, as does Diana. I know that’s a little confusing to understand because Jack and Janet made you feel that you needed to earn the right to spend time around them. They prioritized working and jet-setting around the world over spending time with you. I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong they were for doing that. Time spent with you is important. Your opinions are important. I always want to hear what you’re saying. Never let anyone silence your voice, little buddy.”

Tim wipes his eyes with his sleeve.

“I-I really th-thought everything I had was ma-magical.”

Superman kneels down and puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder. When Tim doesn’t flinch, Superman presses down a little more firmly.

“The machine said that everything you brought here doesn’t have magic, but there’s more to it than that. My Superman suit has real magic from my Kryptonian ancestors, and I feel that power flowing through me every time I wear it, but the most magical thing that I own is Pa’s jacket. It’s a red and black flannel quilted jacket.”

Superman takes a breath to steady himself before he continues.

“When I was little, maybe a few years younger than you, I had a really bad nightmare. Pa came into my room, and I couldn’t stop shaking. Pa had just come inside from doing his chores on the farm, so he was still in his work clothes. He took off his red flannel jacket and put it around me, and I felt safe. Not just safe, but brave. Brave like Pa. Brave enough to fight all the monsters in any nightmare that could come my way. Pa never asked for the jacket back, and I still have it. It’s too tight to actually wear now, but I can still hold it in my arms and feel just as safe and brave as I did as a little boy.”

Tim looks at Superman like he’s his long-lost brother. “You stole clothes too,” he says, with a sense of awe.

“I didn’t steal it,” Superman chuckles, “Pa never asked for it back.”

“He never asked for you to keep it either.”

“You remind me so much of Bruce,” Superman laughs, ruffling Tim’s hair.

“We’re clothing stealing buddies. Just accept it,” Tim says, getting a laugh from both Superman and Wonder Woman.

Tim’s superfriends help him pack everything back into the garment bag. There are a few hours before the Bat team will be done with patrol, so Tim stays at the Watchtower and has macaroons for dessert before sneaking back home.

 

____

 

It’s better to make an announcement when people don’t have food in their mouth. Tim knows the Heimlich maneuver, but he doesn’t really want to use it unless he has to. Just like CPR.

So, Tim waits until his family is done with breakfast before taking a deep breath.

“Everyone, I have an announcement to make. It’s actually more of a confession, I guess.”

Four sets of Wayne eyes are instantly on Tim.

Dick panics first. “Timmy, is it that scar on your stomach? Is it infected again?”

Jason goes next. “What the hell did Jack and Janet do? I swear if those assclowns – “

“Language, Master Jason”

“Sorry, Alfie.”

Bruce clears his throat, “Tim, does your confession have anything to do with my bank account and potential crates of wildlife being delivered to the manor?”

Tim shakes his head. “I’m not sick, Dickie, and my parents didn’t do anything, Jay, and I didn’t order a crate of animals, Dad. I um, I’ve been kind of borrowing some of your clothes and by borrowing, I mean that I’ve been keeping them in my closet with no intention of ever giving them back.”

Jason squints his eyes, “Are you wearing my hoodie right now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been slowly taking everyone’s clothing, but it’s actually your fault, Jason. When I was at the police station and I had to liberate those cocaine bears, you told me that your hoodie had Wayne magic just like all the other hoodies in Wayne Manor, and looking back I probably should have just asked you to explain instead of diving into a secret mission to horde as many hoodies as I could – well, not just hoodies because I have Dick’s sneakers, and Alfie’s apron, and Bruce’s scarf, but now I know none of the things I collected have magic because the machine at the Justice League said that magic wasn’t detected, and I’m really sorry that I stole your stuff.”

There’s a moment of silence before Bruce speaks.

“You took things without asking.”

“Yes sir. I took something from everyone, but I took the most from Jason. I have like thirty of his hoodies.”

“I didn’t even know I had thirty hoodies?”

“You don’t have thirty hoodies. I have thirty of them and there are twelve left in your closet. Well, eleven. I took one this morning. I’ll probably take one after this conversation, so you’ll have ten.”

Jason sighs, “Yeah, but you’re giving them back.”

“I never agreed to that,” Tim says. “I’m just telling you I took them so that you know where their new home is.”

“What? You can’t – Dad, tell Timmy he can’t adopt my hoodies!” Jason says with a huff.

Before Bruce can say anything Dick chimes in, “Wait, why do you have so much of Jay’s stuff. Why haven’t you raided my closet?”

Jason points at Dick. “Are you jealous Dickhead?”

“Language,” Bruce warns.

“Language? That’s his name!”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “His name is not Dickhead, Jaylad.”

“It’s a nickname,” Jason grumbles.

“A dickname,” Dick says proudly.

“You’re not helping,” Bruce groans. “More importantly, Tim, you’re going to return everything you took. You understand that it’s wrong to take someone’s belongings without their permission, correct?”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” Tim says looking at the floor.

Bruce sighs, “Timmy, you don’t have to call me sir.”

Tim hugs Jason. “I’m sorry, Jay. I just really like taking your clothes the most. I know they aren’t magical, but they still make me feel really warm, and safe, and happy. They smell like you – which I know sounds weird, but let’s be honest, that’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever said.”

Jason hugs Tim back. “It’s okay, Tim-bro. I don’t mind if you go through my closet and grab something to wear, as long as you ask me. I can’t believe I never noticed my stuff disappearing.”

“I did it gradually, so that it wouldn’t be as noticeable. Kind of like what I did with the Robin uniform.”

“You have one of my Robin suits?”

Tim has three complete Robin suits (just one cape though), but he doesn’t know if right now is the best time to share that, so he just nods. Like a coward. A coward that has three complete Robin uniforms, thank you very much.

Jason hugs Tim tighter and rests his chin on his little brother’s head. “If I had hoodies that could do magic, I’d give you one in a second.”

Tim hums. Jason hugs are nice. “Technically your hoodie was the only one that had magic. You had a magical rock in your pocket.”

“That’s where I put that! I’ve been looking for that forever. Dickie was on a mission with the Titans, and he brought me back a space rock as a souvenir.”

 

Notes:

Jason's hoodie technically had magic! Poor Timmy. At least his family isn't mad at him for hording their clothing. There's one more chapter to wrap up a few loose ends and maybe tease at something new. :D

I'll post it on Sunday the 31st, because I've been sad about the story ending and haven't written it yet. I've outlined it so that's progress right?😁

As always, thank you so much for all the love that you continue to give to this fluffy little adventure!

Chapter 28: Case closed?

Summary:

It's the end of the story, but the beginning of a new beautiful friendship for Timmy. Let the fluff parade begin!

Notes:

Prompt #27 - outdoor event

Tim narrows his eyes, and his voice goes down as deep as it can.

“If it wasn’t for those meddling turtles, I would have gotten away with it.”

Tim looks at his audience in the turtle pond, but no one seems enthusiastic. Michelangelo had climbed out of the pond at the beginning of the story, but it’s only because he likes sitting on Tim’s knee. He’s pretty much indifferent about any of the Ninja Turtle stories Tim reads.

“The End. Can you believe that Shredder got that close to winning?”

None of the residents of the John and Mary Grayson Memorial Turtle Pond seem to care. The turtles are a little livelier on turtle-aerobics days, so Tim might have to add more of those to the weekly schedule. Maybe he could change the story genre too. He had thought Ninja Turtle stories would be a hit with his sea turtles, but maybe they don’t want to hear about turtles. The Little Mermaid might be a more popular story. Everyone likes mermaids. He could try reading the mermaid book, or maybe schedule story time closer to bedtime.

He’ll have to experiment.

Michelangelo crawls back into the pond and Tim takes a minute to watch his pets. He loves watching his turtles swim and play. He could watch them all day. Unfortunately, he has work to do today. Alfred had discovered the hole Tim made in the garden, when he was rushing to dig up the buried hoodie. Alfred didn’t yell, thankfully, but he did frown. He also told Tim to fix the mess he made, and Timmy promised to do it right after story time with his turtles.

The calm, carefree vibe of turtles gliding underwater is destroyed when Jason runs into the room waving his tablet.

“Timbo, you gotta see this video.”

Jason sits on the floor, next to Tim, and opens a video titled, Gotham Pet Shop Leopard Fail.

Tim points at the paused screen. “Hey, that’s the pet store with the creepy owner that has the pet leopard. Oh my god, Jay. Is this about Jasper the leopard?”  

Jason nods and turns the volume up.

“A local Pet Shop in Park Row, also known as Crime Alley to many of its residents, has just been the target of a police sting operation. The owner of the pet shop tried to sell a shipment of illegal sea turtles, which was stopped by none other than Batman and his team, but this small pet shop has an even bigger secret. In a store that houses bunnies and hamsters, a quaint pet shop with walls of fishtanks next to golden gilded bars of parrot cages – ”

Jason uses his thumb to scrub the video forward while summarizing the lost part himself. “We gotta get to the exciting part. We don’t need to hear all of the nonsense. Long story short, the owner had way more animals in the back that he totally shouldn’t have had. The police snatched the normally illegal shit like endangered snakes, exotic parrots, and poisonous scorpions, but he had some truly whacked out stuff like a zebra and a grizzly bear. Yeah, this is the part.”

Jason stops moving his thumb and the video continues with the owner being dragged out in the middle of the night in handcuffs. A police officer is next to him holding a leash with Jasper the leopard attached. Jasper looks far less aggressive than when Tim met him. He almost looks friendly.

A guy with a microphone and a press badge runs up to the handcuffed animal smuggler and asks, “Sir, do you have anything to say?”

“Yeah. I got lots to say. First of all, I’m innocent. None of these animals are mine. I was framed. But let’s say I hypothetically did own all of the animals you guys took from my place of business, and let’s also say that some very important, very powerful people had already pre-purchased said animals, hypothetically. Powerful people don’t like not getting what they paid for. Powerful people like The Penguin or Two Face for example.”

Jason laughs, “The dipshit just admitted he was workin’ with Two Face and the Penguin. How dumb could you be? Those guys aren’t gonna save him. They’re gonna find a new animal trafficker and leave him to rot in jail.” Jason’s eyes light up. “And that’s where we come in, Timbo. Tracksuit snitch guy is connected to your turtle case, and since he still has associates that are looking to traffic more animals, that’s technically still part of the case B gave to you. Although, we probably should keep this between the two of us and do some digging ourselves before we bring in the rest of the team.”

“Yay,” Tim cheers. “The case is re-opened, I’m working with Robin, and I’m getting so many more pets. This is so awesome! Do you think The Penguin has actual penguins that we can rescue? Baby penguins are so cute and gray and fuzzy. And grown-up penguins are cute too because they waddle instead of walking. Do you think Alfie could make an ice room for them with an indoor pond and icebergs?”

“Master Tim,” Alfred says, appearing out of thin air, making Tim jump. “Did I hear you say my name?”

“Uh, yeah, Alfie. I was just telling Jason that I’m done reading to the turtles and I’m heading right outside to straighten up the rose garden, like I promised you.”

Tim hops to his feet and waves, “Bye Jay.” He almost trips over his feet as he runs away. Alfred knows everything about everything, and it’s impossible to lie to him, so Tim has to run away as quickly as he can before Alfred calls him out over his obvious lie.

 

____

Tim pats the mound of dirt that was previously a hole. The navy-blue hoodie that was once buried there, is spinning on its third cycle in the washing machine, soon to be returned to Jason’s closet. Tim is happy for the hoodie. Everyone loves a good redemption story.

Tim kind of wishes that he were in the warm laundry room right now instead of shoveling outside in the cold with his heavy, puffy coat. He forgot to wear his hat or his gloves, and he’s really paying for that mistake with occasional shivering.

Tim puts the shovel down and claps off the dirt on his hands, but sighs as Princess starts furiously digging up the hole that Tim just filled in.

“Stop, Princess,” Tim says as gently as he can, because she doesn’t really understand that it isn’t play time. “Princess, we’re not doing that right now.”

Princess barks happily and continues to dig.

Not only is Tim going to have to refill the hole, but he’s also going to have to give Princess a bath too.

“You’re lucky you’re cute and fluffy or I’d be mad at you for making me do extra work,” Tim says, lifting the shovel and waiting for Princess to stop playing in the dirt.

Before Tim can start up his new task, he hears a loud electric buzzing sound coming from the wooded area behind him. He turns to face the sound and there’s a bright light. It almost looks like lightning. Tim shields his eyes from the bright light, and wonders what caused the weird outdoor event.

Princess barks and races, full speed to investigate.

“Wait,” Tim yells, chasing after his puppy. He runs right into the woods, armed only with a shovel.

Princess leads Tim pretty far into the woods. When she eventually stops, Tim puts his hands on his thighs as he leans over and tries to catch his breath. He quickly realizes just how deep into the forest he is when he looks back and can’t see Wayne Manor anymore. All he can see are massive trees all around him.

It’s still daytime, so being surrounded by dense trees and thick foliage bushes could be a lot scarier if it were night, but it’s still scary enough for Tim to want to leave as soon as possible.

“Princess,” Tim whispers. “We have to get out of here. It’s dangerous. We –”

Tim’s eyes dart to something scampering in a tree. The scampering critter stops to stare. Little Timmy is face to face with a chipmunk.

Timmy’s heart leaps out of his chest, and he wants to squeal so badly, but he holds it in, and slowly reaches for his phone. Not only does the chipmunk not run away when he starts filming, but the little guy picks up an acorn and starts to munch on it.

Tim starts borderline hyperventilating when the chipmunk is joined with another, and they both enjoy acorn snacks.

Princess walks back over to Tim and rubs against his leg. Tim uses his free hand to pet her.

“It’s okay, Princess. I’m not having a medical emergency. This is the good kind of hyperventilating.”

The beauty of nature’s most adorable creatures is truly captivating. It’s so captivating that Tim almost doesn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Technically, he only hears the footsteps sneaking up on him after Princess stars growling.

Tim shoves his phone back in his pocket and uses both hands to grip his shovel, like a weapon.

“Stay back,” Tim yells. “I know Karate and gymnastics!”

The stranger stops approaching, but Tim can see who it is. The stranger is dressed in a Robin suit, but the cape on this robin suit is black and it has a hood. This odd Robin is a boy, who’s much taller than Tim, and he has light brown skin and he’s wearing a domino mask. He also has a sword!

Sword-Robin scowls at Tim. “I assume I have been teleported to another dimension. I did not think that a villain who was incompetent enough to name himself Condiment King, of all things, possessed the capabilities of harnessing inter-dimensional travel, yet here I am. I demand that you tell me, this instant, who you are, and what you are doing on my family’s property.”

Tim lowers his voice as deep as it will go. As deep as his Shredder voice. “I am Batman.”

Sword-Robin raises an eyebrow. “You are not Father. Although, there is something familiar about the way you are holding that shovel. I have seen that grip on a bo staff. Wait a moment. You are Drake!”

Tim nods. “Yup. I’m Tim Drake. You know me? Are we friends in your world? I’m best friends with Robin in this world. Am I best friends with you in your world?”

“Drake is not my friend; he is my mortal enemy. This morning, at breakfast, he stole a piece of toast that I was preparing for myself. I proceeded to stick his phone in the toaster, along with a fork. The explosion was much larger than I expected. He concluded that it was worth the loss of his phone. Drake is a menace. Are you a menace, small child?”

“A little,” Tim says with a smile. “I’m not a small child. I’m ten. Are you ten too?”

“No. I am thirteen. Also, my name is Damian.”

“Hi Damian. Can I hold your sword?”

“No.”

Tim pouts, so Damian draws his sword. “Fine. You may look at it, but you are not permitted to touch it.”

Tim’s eyes light up because he’s looking at an actual, for real, ninja sword.

“Damian, does the Tim that stole your toast have a sword?”

“He does not. He is an embarrassment to the team and Father should have abandoned him long ago, however, he does know how to use a sword. He was trained by Lady Shiva. His fighting skills are… adequate. You said that you have acquired skills from karate and gymnastics?”

“Yup. Dickie is my gymnastics coach and Jason is my karate sensei.”

Princess approaches Damian slowly. Damian kneels down, removes one of his Robin gloves, and lets her smell his hand. He must pass the smell test, because Princess rewards him by wagging her tail and licking his hand.

“Timothy, is this your dog?”

“Yes, this is Princess,” Tim says bouncing on his toes. “She was my mom’s emotional support dog, but Mom is terrible, so Bruce stole her and she’s my dog now. Do you have any pets?”

Damian scratches Princess under her chin, which she loves. “I have a dog named Titus, a cat named Alfred, and a cow named Bat-cow.”

“Wow! You have a cow? I have an alpaca, and his name is Bruce the alpaca. Bruce says that the alpaca is his enemy, but I think he actually loves him, just like I think you love the Tim from where you’re from. Bruce the alpaca is really cool, and he used to live on Ma, Pa, and Superman’s farm, but I didn’t steal him like Bruce stole Princess, because Pa said that I could have him, and the farm has baby chicks that I want too, but Bruce just makes the grunty sound whenever I ask for one, but Ma said I could have one, and Bruce already told me that I’m not aloud to name the chick Bruce the chick, so I’m naming him Brooster, Brooster is the name Bruce and  the name rooster put together.”

Damian puts his sword back and crosses his arms over his chest. “I need to get back to my dimension, but before I do would you like me to convince Father to let you adopt Brooster?”

“You’re the best, Damian!”

Damian, Tim, and Princess head back toward the house and Tim is beaming.

“When we get inside the house, I can introduce you to all my stuffed animals, and all my real animals too.”  

 

____

 

Bruce is sitting at the breakfast nook, drinking tea with Alfred. Bruce adds a sugar cube into his tea and sighs as he stirs.

“I spoil him, Alfred.”

“As you should,” Alfred says with a smirk.

Bruce chuckles. “Said like a true grandfather.”

Alfred hums as he takes a sip of his tea.

A child that Bruce has never seen before appears out of nowhere.

“Father, you must acquire Brooster for Timothy. He also desires a Bat-cow, a black cat named Alfred, and one of the bats from the Bat cave.”

Tim appears next to the strange child that called Bruce Father. “Hi Dad. I’d like one bat from the cave, but if the bat has friends or a family, we can’t break up a family or a friendship group, so we should probably take them all. I told Dickie about Brooster, and he laughed really hard and then said I should get another baby chick and name it Cluck Kent, and they can get married and have chick babies.”

Bruce looks at his tea and then at Alfred, “I have no idea what Timmy just asked me, and I’m pretty sure a child I do not know, just called me Father. I may need something stronger than tea. It might be a coffee day.”

“Dad! How cool is this!” Jason yells, swinging a sword through the air, vigorously, like he’s swatting flies. Bruce is already generating PowerPoint slides on sword safety in his head.

The child that called Bruce, Father, nods, “Your swordsmanship in my dimension is quite magnificent, Todd.”

Jason grins at Bruce, spins the sword in one hand. “Dami said that I have these two magical swords called the All-Blades that draw their power from my life force, and I can summon them at will, and when I’m not using those, I have two semi-automatic pistols strapped to my legs. I have a leather jacket in his dimension too!”

Bruce rubs his temples. He’s going to have to add Tylenol to go with the coffee he requested from Alfred.

The mystery child gives Bruce a very serious look. “I am Damian, your son, from an alternate dimension. My main objectives are to get back to my rightful dimension, and to help Timothy adopt as many pets as possible. Are you willing to help me?”

“Yes to getting back home, but no to the pet adoption. Tim has more than enough pets.”

“Father, you are feuding with an alpaca. You have lost the ability to make wise decisions. Come, Timothy. You mentioned something about a turtle pond? I would like to see it.”

Tim hugs Bruce, and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, “I love you, Dad.”

That almost makes Bruce’s headache disappear. The only reason it doesn’t, is because the warm father-son moment is interrupted with the sound of a vase shattering and Jason saying, “I’m alright. Dickie definitely isn’t bleeding.”

When had Dick entered the room?

Bruce really hopes that “not bleeding” is more of a small scratch rather than a trip to the hospital. Before he tackles that problem, he glances over at Tim walking with Damian. Timmy’s vibrating with excitement as he walks away with his new friend.

“I have fifty-one turtles. Bruce stole them for me. I can’t wait for you to meet them. Their names are Michelangelo, Donatello, Rapheal, Leonardo, Greenie, Kermit, John, Jamal, Oliver…”

 

The End

 

 

Notes:

I can't believe it's over! This was such a wild ride. Damian wasn't even in the original outline for the story, but after all the comments that said Damian and little Timmy would totally bond over adopting every animal in Gotham (and Kent Farm), I couldn't resist adding a little dimension hopping shenanigans lol. Speaking of comments, this story would have been nothing without the comments. I wrote this story as I posted (not sure I'll ever do that insanity again lol) so every kudo, comment, and hit, encouraged me to continue when I'd get frustrated that I just wrote myself into another impossible to get out of scenario. Thank you so much!

This story was supposed to be about Timmy being adopted, but I got a little sidetracked so there will be a third story in the series. If I get side tracked again, there will be a fourth!

Happy New Year everyone! I can't wait to share more stories in 2024!!

Let me know what you thought about the story. I'm always down to chat!!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Adopted Wayne Family AU