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It was hard to believe that Batman was gone. For those not in the know such statement would seem incredibly absurd. The dark knight still ventured the night skies of Gotham, but for someone like Timmy, it was glaringly obvious. Nightwing was now the new Batman. It was also as obvious to Tim that Bruce Wayne was a human, and therefore, mortal. Something happened and now Mr. Wayne was gone.
Or at least that is what Tim would have believed three weeks ago, were it not for the artifact that his parents brought home. The way they held it was wrong, whichever identification they tried to make would also be wrong. It was a fossilized Batarang.
The item in the catalog photograph of his parents was a rusty object, identified by Tim as a Batarang. Discolored. Rotated 113 degrees counterclockwise, the left ear was missing as well as the upper extremity of the right wing. It was slightly bent inwards from the right-side base of the head to the middle of the lower portion of the left wing.
Tim took several additional photos along with his own batarang, caught in on of his nighttime photography sessions. He compared them. Catalogued similarities and decided write a whole argument. He would hopefully be able to convince Nightwing Batman that something wasn’t right and that this would be worthwhile visiting.
As he wrote down, the whole gravity of the situation dawned on Tim. Either this meant that the original Batman wasn’t a human and had lived for millennia or that somehow, Bruce Wayne is stuck in the past. Both of these were incredibly far fetched and would have any regular person call him a lunatic for these suggestions. However, the Bats weren’t just “any regular person”, this was dangerous. This was poking the bear. It was putting yourself inside of someone else’s grief. In the best-case scenario, the Bats would just ignore him and put Tim’s name into a “potential future rogue” list, at worst they might erase his mind. All odds were stacked against him, but Tim would be damned if he didn’t at least try.
The first attempt at contacting the Waynes went absolutely nowhere. No matter how many times he rung the doorbell at Wayne Manor, nothing would happen. The Waynes had moved… somewhere. Tim only hoped that it was still nearby and not completely across the city from Bristol.
After meticulous searches for residences owned by Bruce, a penthouse showed up. It was in the middle of the city. This move was most likely motivated by the nighttime patrols, as it made travel to and from the inner city significantly easier. How they remained undetected in the middle of Gotham however, was still something he didn’t understand. It’s not like the Batmobile is a quiet car.
Changing his strategies to what he did previously at night, Tim resorted to stalking. He felt bad in targeting the elderly butler, but he felt that he might be the most approachable member of the family.
The butler’s routine wasn’t too difficult to figure out. So Tim decided to set in motion the next part of the plan.
It was a rainy day, and Tim had to make himself look as miserable as possible and try to play the “poor little child” card just right. There was still a chance that it wouldn’t work. He made sure that the newspaper was secure inside his jacket and made his way to the front desk assistant of the building just as Mr. Pennyworth parked.
“H-hello? Is Mr. Pennyworth here?” Tim asked with a broken voice.
The receptionist looked at him with a mixture of pity and disgust “I’m not allowed to state that information. If it is a message or delivery, you can just leave it here with me and I’ll pass it on later, Mr…?”
Tim coughed. “Tim, My name’s Tim.”
“Well, Tim. I-” The receptionist began when Mr. Pennyworth, who was making his way towards the elevator stopped and turned towards the front desk.
“What seems to be the problem here?” Alfred Pennyworth asked directing his gaze from Tim to the desk assistant.
“I was just about to tell Tim here that-.”
“I saw something important.” Tim interrupted, startling the receptionist and himself at his tone.
The slightest shift was perceptible in the old butler’s eyes. “What is it my boy?”
“It-it’s something in the newspaper.” Tim opened his soaked jacket and produced a miserable looking clump of papers. Tim frowned at it. “It probably shouldn’t be spoken out loud.”
The receptionist stared alarmed at Tim and then Alfred, trying to navigate the situation.
“Well, you’re soaking wet. Why don’t you come with me and then you can dry yourself with a towel.” Mr. Pennyworth made his way towards the elevator while the desk assistant was left scratching his head at the situation.
In the elevator. Tim stayed quiet while, no doubt, being evaluated by Alfred. This was the most delicate moment. It would either make or break his case. He only hoped that at least he would be given the time of day and not unceremoniously kicked out of the building.
“Stay here while I fetch a towel.” Alfred said while going further into the apartment.
Tim carefully unraveled the paper. The photos of the fossil stood side by side with the photos of a Batarang.
“Here you go. What was it that you wanted to show me?” Alfred looked at Tim after handing him a towel. “In the newspaper, was it?”
Tim carefully picked up the photos to show them. “Mr. Pennyworth. I need you to understand that I don’t bring this up intending to hurt you, but this discovery has unnerved me to the point of losing sleep.”
A carefully constructed neutral expression stayed on the old man’s face.
Tim gulped. “My parents. They’re archeologists and they brought a particularly odd object back home. They couldn’t identify it, but I did.”
The piercing gaze of the butler sent shivers down his spine.
“But I didn’t tell them. I promise. I haven’t told anyone.” He quickly intercepted.
The gaze still pierced at Tim when Alfred spoke again. “This is a dangerous thing that you are getting yourself into Mister Tim. I would hope that you are aware of that?”
“I know. I just. Please don’t…” Time voice had gotten higher and higher. “Please don’t jail me or erase my mind.”
“Oh, we would never do such a thing Mister Tim, but I do have some questions and I need you to answer them truthfully. Could you do that?” The words calmed Tim a bit.
“Y-yes of course.” Tim stated.
“What do you know?” The question was wide. A lot of things could fit in there. Tim just had to make sure to answer the most vital.
“I know that Bruce Wayne was Batman, and that Nightwing is Batman now. Which leads me to the conclusion that Bruce is dead.”
Alfred pondered Tim’s answer. “And you have never told anyone?”
“No! I wouldn’t. I would never betray Batman like that.” Tim interjected nervously.
“How long have you known?”
For most of my life, Tim thought to himself “Since I was nine.”
“And you’re thirteen now. So, you have kept this secret for over four years.” Tim almost detected a hint of surprise in the man’s voice.
“Yes.”
“What about this artifact?” Alfred inspected the pictures carefully.
“In one of their many travels. They discovered this. I didn’t probe them on where they found it, but once I saw it, I immediately knew what it was.”
“Yes, this leads me to my next question.” Looking through the photos, Alfred picked the one showing the Batarang that Tim got two years ago. “What can you tell me about this item?”
Tim’s cheeks redden. “Yes, I… I did some, nighttime photography on field about the birds and bats of Gotham.”
Alfred raise one eyebrow and Tim rummaged through his backpack to find the box of photos.
When Alfred examined those as well, he stared at Tim again. “You’ve ventured out in the middle of the night alone repeatedly to take these photographs?”
“Yes, I did.” Tim said as a frown appeared on the old man’s face.
“And your parents or guardians knew about you going out at night?”
“They never noticed. Or if they did, they haven’t said anything.” Tim unconsciously tried to appear smaller.
“Well, Master Tim. No child should be left alone on their own house, let alone be allowed to wander these dangerous streets at night.” The butler spoke with kindness in his heart.
“I’m not a child. Besides. The housekeeper comes multiple days of the week.” Tim said defensively.
“I never meant to insult you, Master Tim.”
A silence filled the air as both didn’t find any new words to speak.
“This discovery is certainly important. I hope you wouldn’t mind staying for the period while this gets investigated. I’m certain that your input will be of great value.”
A tentative smile appeared on Tim’s face. “Really?”
Alfred smiled back. “Of course. I would only ask that the original specimen of this fossil be presented for research purposes.”
“Consider it done.”
Alfred guided Tim to a table. “Would you like some hot chocolate, Master Tim?”
“Yes!” Tim said, trying to keep the excitement in check.