Chapter Text
Exy is one of those things Tim hasn’t thought about in a really, really long time.
He remembers when he was little how his Dad was trying to teach him how to hold the racquet, while simultaneously trying to teach himself, because Exy wasn’t Jack Drake’s first choice of sports he wanted to teach his son. Remembers how his Mom took him to practice twice a week, and arranged every trophy and certificate he won in their living room so they could be seen by everyone who passed by. But then Tim became Robin, and Robin had so much less time for daytime hobbies. He hadn’t given it up completely, not yet, clutching this little piece of his normal life close to his chest because he was afraid if he lost it, he would lose a piece of himself that made up who Timothy Drake was without his purpose of being Robin. Besides, back then the vigilante gig wasn’t supposed to be forever.
Bruce argued with him about it. Between playing exy, training, and going out as Robin it risked Tim being too tired and making a mistake in the field. Getting somebody killed. Getting himself killed. And that, Bruce was not going to let happen. Tim argued back. He didn’t need to go out every night, he could simply help from the cave. Bruce wasn’t happy but he somewhat relented. After all, Bruce too knew Tim wouldn’t be Robin forever. Tim was just glad he didn’t make him choose between the two, because he knew he would have picked Robin.
Then his Mother died.
There were several different machines keeping his Father’s body alive for weeks that stretched into infinity, and through the next few months Tim thought very little about Exy.
He picked it back up eventually, after nearly a year of what had happened and things in his life had shakily settled. He went to school, had friends not connected to the whole vigilante thing, his Dad was better and had Dana. He was still Robin. And he was Tim Drake who missed a third of his team’s practices, and showed up late for almost every game, but was a reasonably good striker, which was probably the only thing keeping him still on the team. Dick had shown up at multiple of his games to cheer on him, sometimes along with Barbara. Even Bruce appeared a couple of times accompanied by Alfred. Eventually they had to move a few times for one reason or another, and the constant changing of schools didn’t really help him to keep playing, but he still persisted.
Then his Father died.
Then Stephanie. Darla. Conner. Bart. Bruce.
And things got a lot more complicated. Complications being Damian, being Jason, being who was going to be Batman, to Dick being Batman, and to who was Tim without being Robin. Eventually some of the people who died came back. Others didn't.
In a way, Tim never stopped mourning any of them.
And Exy was a thing he hadn’t thought about in years.
Until now.
-
He should have known it was a trap. When Stephanie called to invite him to go out for lunch two days ago, and he heard that undertone in her voice, the one she got when she was not necessarily saying everything she meant, Tim knew she was up to something. He knew there was something off about the whole thing, but there were also the previous three canceled attempts at hanging out somewhere that wasn’t a rooftop in the middle of the night, while wearing over glorified, bulletproof pajamas, and he felt kind of guilty. Balancing vigilante lifes with civilian ones was never easy. Then Steph casually remarked Cass would be there as well to sweeten the deal. And then Tim couldn’t really say no. So he knew it was a trap, but the thing with Stephanie is that sometimes it was much less effort to go along with what she has planned in mind, than try and figure it out.
He regretted his decision.
Twenty five minutes in, Tim and Cass were squished in one booth at the Bat Burger and Steph in the one opposite of them. Cass was focused on trying to recreate a scene from a tv show she had watched as realistically as possible with fries and ketchup, with Tim occasionally reaching across in an attempt to ruin it all. Stephanie was telling a story about one of her professors, who according to rumours, was doing some significantly strange and mildly-illegal things in their third building.
The entrance door’s chime went off, and Tim looked up as a broad, middle aged man with tribal flame tattoos on his exposed forearms, and a folder clutched between arm and body, entered. He was decidedly heading towards their booth. Tim assessed the guy as a non threat, but something in his brain refused to completely write him off. Cass and Stephanie had also noticed him, with Cass looking at him with that immediate movement-understanding-knowledge gleam in her eyes that she got every time when looking at somebody, and was fairly relaxed. But Steph, Stepahnie was looking at Tim with a knowing glint in her eyes and a dangerous smile.
Tim quickly glanced back towards the approaching guy, and this time his brain put a name to the previously somewhat familiar face. David Wymack, coach for the Palmetto State Foxes.
No.
Tim started to have an inkling about Stephanie's real motivations for them being here. And he didn't like it at all. Quickly, he started to stand up with the intention to get away, but his wrist was caught in an unrelenting grip across the table.
‘’Steph,’’ he hissed out, while glaring daggers at her. She didn’t even have the courtesy to at least pretend she was a little bit ashamed of her actions. No, she was looking back at him with a patient smile that sang ‘this is all for your own good’, which filled him with very little confidence that was actually true.
‘’At least listen him out, Tim! He’s already heading this way, it would be extremely rude to leave right now.’’ She was very good at acting like he was being the unreasonable one here.
‘’No,’’ Tim replied, then freed his hand from Stephanie’s hold. He returned to getting out of the booth, but his path was blocked by Cass. She was looking at him with an innocent smile.
Great, so the two of them had schemed together. Getting through Cass wouldn’t be easy. Tim sat back down a little bit vexed.
Wymack had reached their booth by then. If he saw how Tim was two seconds away from running away from him, he didn't mention it. He turned directly to him.
‘’Timothy Drake?’’ It was a question, but the dryness of it almost made it sound like a statement. He sounded like a guy who had a long experience of asking questions and getting ambiguous responses which were most definitely not answers, for a long enough time he had completely given hope in the exchange.
Tim closed his eyes, took half a second to regain his composure, and put on an easy disarming smile.
‘’Yes. Who is asking?’’ Tim responded, even though he knew the answer and didn’t like it.
‘’David Wymack, coach for the Palmetto Foxes. I’ll skip the formalities and go directly to the point. Your former coach sent us a couple of your games, and after some consideration it was decided you will be a good addition to our new line.’’
Your former coach.
Through his school life Tim had changed a total of two middle schools and five high schools in the span of six years. And after all of that he still had a forged diploma. He strongly doubted any of the coaches he had still remembered him, let alone gone through all of the effort of recommending him to a university team. Tim knew exactly who this supposed coach was, and she was sitting right across from him. He briefly wondered, which one exactly of his long list of former coaches Steph had impersonated.
‘’I really appreciate the offer, but I don't think I'll be a good fit. I haven’t played exy in a long time.’’
It was a little bit less than two years. It felt more like a decade. He still remembered the adrenaline rushing through your veins like electricity spreading through water when you stepped out on the court with a racquet firmly clutched in hand. So different from when he went out as Robin, but equally as addictive.
‘’If you are half as good now as you were on those tapes back then, we would have you.’’ Wymack replied.
It was a curious response. Either Tim strongly underestimated his own skills in the sport, or they were desperate. From what he knew of this particular team, it was probably the latter. After all it was not exactly a coincidence that David Wymack was the man sitting across from him now. Steph knew Tim well. They were still dating when he rambled about exy teams and matches and plays, when he still had half-realistic dreams about playing professionally. She knew Tim was specifically keeping tabs on the new peculiar team that popped up from Palmetto State University, years ago.
Although now, with the mess that was his school and exy experience, this was probably the only university team that would take him half-seriously.
Either way, Tim didn’t want this. He had given up on this childish dream years ago. He was definitely going to have some words with Stephanie about going behind his back like this.
‘’I’m grateful for the offer but-’’ Just as he started to decline Steph shot up from her seat.
‘’Excuse us for a second.’’ Stephanie said, making a hand gesture towards Tim and herself, showing her intention for the two of them to go away and talk.
Wymack stared at her for a second before nodding, seemingly content to wait and entirely used to people acting strange before him.
Then Steph was leading Tim away, leaving David Wymack and Cass alone in the booth.