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Chapter Text

Tim’s feet ached as he stood on the side of the road. It was nearly midnight and was a quiet night, at least by Gotham standards. Usually, the ten-year-old would have to sneak past multiple gangs or heists in progress and if he was unlucky would end up running for his life away from them. Thankfully his experience in escaping Batman’s notice helped him eventually lose the would-be kidnappers. Tim had only been seriously kidnapped once, but it was while he was at school so he didn’t count it as a point against him.

Batman and Robin were nowhere to be found. Tim had their routes memorized so he knew they were supposed to show up on this street at least an hour ago. But it seemed crime called them elsewhere.

Because of this, Tim decided to go up to the roof to stargaze. He wouldn’t see any real stars of course; the smog covering Gotham made that impossible. But the night lights of the city looked enough like stars if you squinted and Tim liked making constellations out of them.

The-ten-year old began climbing up the fire escape when a window swung open, revealing a red-faced old woman.

“What’re you doin’ here, kid?” she asked furiously, clearly attempting to get out of the window. However, she was failing at the task quite spectacularly, as one might expect from an elderly woman. “Where’s your parents? You’re too tiny to be out on the streets at this time of night.”

“I live here,” Tim lied, ignoring the tiny comment.

“No, ya don’t. I know everyone in this apartment building and you sure aren’t one of them. I’ll ask again, where are your parents?” the old woman replied, sounding even angrier than before. Tim was pretty sure she wasn’t angry at him, but it was hard to tell.

“Keep it down, down there,” another voice yelled and this time Tim could tell that the man was definitely mad at them. Looking up, he saw two men leaning over the railing of the fire escape. They were both clearly drunk.

“Oh, shut up Frank,” the old woman snarled. The men started yelling back at her and pretty quickly the yelling devolved into screaming. Tim decided that was his cue to leave and scrambled back down the stairs.

Now back on the street, Tim needed a different rooftop for his stargazing. His eyes caught on a red brick apartment building across the street. Upon further inspection, he discovered that the building did not have a fire escape. That was probably a safety hazard, but it was Gotham and nobody cared.

The lack of stairs did not stop Tim however. The red building and the building next to it were only a foot apart and nearly touched at the top due to tilting. Tim discovered that if he stuck himself in the crack just right he could shimmy up the walls like a spider.

So shimmy he did.

He left his backpack and his skateboard at the bottom as he was fairly certain they would cause him to fall. The screaming match was still going on across the street so Tim figured that would be enough to drive away any would-be robbers.

He had just reached the third story when he locked eyes with a woman through the window. She stared for a moment before giving him a nod of acknowledgment, so Tim continued climbing. Then he accidentally crushed a spider with his hand which nearly made him fall had he regained his balance. Finally, the ten-year-old made it to the top.

He crawled to the center of the roof. In the past, he’d gotten in trouble because he sat within sight of the people on the street. The boy had been spotted, but instead of the person being a well-meaning angry Grandma trying to help Tim, it was an ill-intentioned angry criminal trying to kidnap Tim. He had then been chased down the street and only lost the man after he descended into the sewers.

And that’s why he always sat in the middle.

Tim looked out over the cityscape. The atmosphere was almost calm if you could tune out the chorus of sirens. At the far right, he could see the lights of Wayne Manor. Drake Manor was near the Wayne’s, but their lights weren’t on. They never were.

“Whatcha’ doing out here kiddo?” A voice asked. Tim scrambled back in surprise, turning his head and coming face to face with Robin. In all his years of bat watching, Batman and Robin had never seen him before, much less talked to him.

“Stargazing,” Tim squeaked. Robin cocked his head. Tim pointed at the cityscape, but unsurprisingly that explanation was not sufficient. “The house lights are kind of like stars, except with all different colors. And you can make constellations with them.”

He was shaking from excitement as he explained and he was pretty sure Robin could tell. If he did, he was gracious enough not to comment on it.

“I see, I see,” Robin said, nodding his head along as if Tim was a philosopher explaining his thoughts. “I think I see Sagittarius around the hospital.” It took a lot of pointing and explaining, but eventually, Tim found the series of lights Robin was talking about.

“Well, as awesome as stargazing is, it’s pretty dangerous for a kid to be out in Gotham at night,” Robin said. Tim scowled. He was having such a fun time hanging out with Robin, but the other shoe was bound to drop eventually.

“You’re out here,” Tim pointed out.

“Yeah, but I’ve got awesome fighting skills,” Robin countered.

“I do karate.”

“I have Batman.”

“… I secede.”

Robin laughed.

“Well, speaking of Batman, he’s actually on his way here right now,” Robin said. Tim stiffened. Don’t get him wrong; Tim loved Batman. But Batman would ask more questions than Robin would and/or offer to walk him home. Tim wasn’t sure he could lie to the man if the situation arose.

“You’re right, it is dangerous for me to be out here,” Tim said, standing up. “I live just in this building,” he continued, edging towards the door. Robin clearly looked confused by the sudden tone shift but accepted it regardless.

“Okay then, goodnight kid.”

Tim pushed open the door, uttering a silent thanks that it was unlocked and also making a mental note to remind the occupants to lock their doors since it really wasn’t safe. The building was run down on the inside too. Walking down the hallway, Tim saw that the wall sported many stab wounds and gunshots as well as a creatively worded message to the Joker in spray paint.

Each door also had a splotch of green paint, but that was normal. It was Poison Ivy’s mark that someone took good care of their plants. That way she could keep track of who she needed to threaten. It caused a huge growth of plant ownership and care in Gotham. No one wanted to live in the same building as someone without a green mark which generally convinced the markless to get their game together quickly.

Tim’s house didn’t have a mark, though Ivy had placed it there many times. His parents thought it was an eyesore and had it painted over whenever they were home. Fortunately, Tim had a very pleasant conversation with Miss Ivy about his situation and she agreed not to attack their house.

He padded down the rest of the hallway. Because as long as they weren’t stolen, Tim still had a skateboard and backpack to retrieve.

Chapter Text

Tim hated galas. They were stuffy and long and horribly fake. People practically drowned themselves in perfume that made Tim gag every time he got a waft. Gratefully, Tim’s parents hadn’t asked him to accompany them this time, meaning he was free to do as he pleased. He wasn’t entirely free of responsibilities of course; Tim was still expected to mingle with the party-goers. But it did mean that he had a little more freedom in whom he chose to talk to.

He had just escaped a horribly long conversation with an elderly woman who kept commenting about how he looked “just like his mother” to everyone who walked by. Figuring he deserved a break, Tim made a beeline for the snack table. As he was filling up his plate, the feeling of being watched suddenly washed over him. Tim turned and quickly scanned the crowd before his eyes landed on Jason Todd-Wayne. The teenager was staring at him rather intensely, as if trying to solve a puzzle just by looking at him.

Huh.

Trying to lose him, Tim maneuvered between people to make it to the edge of the room before finally sitting down at an empty table. The atmosphere there was much less stuffy, which Tim appreciated. He figured he would eat his food, socialize for another hour before his parents took their leave, and then follow closely behind.

To Tim’s horror, a threat to his peace was currently heading straight for him in the form of Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd-Wayne.

“Hello Tim, do you mind if we sit here? Jason and I are looking to take a short break from the gala,” Bruce Wayne asked. Tim wanted to say no, but after a quick sweep of the other tables and finding them full, he relented.

“Oh, not at all Mr. Wayne,” Tim replied politely, begrudgingly donning his gala-smile.

“Please, call me Bruce,” the man said as he and his son pulled out chairs to sit. Jason was still trying to stare into Tim’s soul, but the boy tried to brush it off. “So Tim, where do you go to school these days?”

“Gotham Academy,” Tim answered.

“Huh,” Jason said through bites of food. “I’ve never seen you there.”

He wouldn’t have. Tim hardly ever actually went to school. He would complete the homework assignments online and look up YouTube videos about anything he didn’t understand. Tim used to have to hack the servers every day to fix his attendance, but this year he coded a bot to do it for him.

“How are you attending the Academy?” Bruce asked. “I was under the impression the youngest grade they taught was seventh.”

“Oh, my parents had me skip a few grades, so instead of being in fifth grade I’m in seventh,” Tim replied. Jason whistled.

“You’re a certified little genius then huh?” Jason said. Heat rose in Tim’s cheeks.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Tim replied. Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Bruce changed the topic.

“What do you like to do for fun?” The man asked.

“I like photography,” Tim replied. He couldn’t exactly elaborate on it or his other hobbies without either lying or sullying the Drake name. Tim’s parents were firmly against skateboarding and only allowed it because they didn’t know he was doing it. They said that it was “not befitting of someone of their status”. And stalking Gotham vigilantes was hardly an acceptable hobby by anyone’s standards.

“Ooo, can I see some of your pictures?” Jason asked, leaning over to Tim.

“I don’t have any of them on my phone.” It wasn’t a lie. His parents would occasionally go through his phone when they were home, so the boy didn’t dare leave any evidence on it. Jason sighed and settled back down in his seat.

“A shame, a shame,” he said wistfully, reminding Tim of the actors in the Shakespeare plays he would watch when he didn’t want to read the book for school. “What do you like to take pictures of then?”

“I mostly photograph wildlife,” Tim answered. A bat and a bird were animals, so it wasn’t too much of a lie. You could argue that he was taking pictures of wild-life, as in life in the wild if the wild was Gotham.

“That’s lovely,” Bruce said. “Where do you usually go to take photos?”

“Oh, all over really,” Tim replied. The docks, alleyways, the street outside the zoo, not in the forest.

The conversation lulled as Tim took a bite of his lemon bar. Bruce and Jason shared a look and seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“So, Tim,” Bruce began. Yeah no. Tim could hear the pity and hesitance in his voice and was fairly certain that he would not like whatever idea was about to be proposed. His eyes caught the figures of his mother and father leaving the gala. It was early for them to go, but not unexpected because of the jet lag. It was also the perfect opportunity.

“My parents are leaving,” Tim said, standing up and pointing to where they were. Bruce twisted around in his seat to see them and an unpleasant look passed over his face. “I should go catch up with them.”

The unhappy look disappeared from Bruce’s face and he smiled at Tim.

“It was nice speaking to you, Tim,” he said as Jason nodded along with him.

“I’ll keep an eye out for ya’ at the academy,” the older boy said.

Tim smiled and waved an awkward goodbye before disappearing into the crowd. Cool air washed over him as he stepped outside. Unsurprisingly, his parents and their car were already gone. It was fine though; the bus stop was just two miles south. He began walking down the road when the doors to the gala opened again and two figures walked out. Tim didn’t want to be questioned so he broke into a run down the street, only stopping once the road turned and he was out of sight. The feeling of being watched didn’t disappear though, even after he was a good distance from the party. It was only once he got on the bus that the uncomfortable sensation subsided.

“Hey, Tim. Where to today?” asked Barry, the bus driver, as Tim boarded the bus.

“Just home.”

Barry contemplated for a moment and swerved to scan the bus. The only other riders were a middle-aged man and his dog.

“I’ll just drop you off at the house tonight,” he said. “I don’t really want you walking around at night in those fancy clothes. Puts a target on your head.”

Tim nodded and uttered a quick thanks before settling into the window seat. As he stared out of the window, he could feel himself drifting off. But he trusted that Barry would wake him, so he succumbed to an exhaustion-induced nap.

Chapter Text

It had been three days since the gala and Tim’s parents had just left which meant that he was finally able to bat watch again. He skateboarded down the sidewalk, trying to meet up with where he knew the bats would be patrolling tonight.

A scream rang out from the alleyway next to him. Tim skidded to a halt. Some teenager had a knife to another girl’s throat and was yelling a long string of swears and threats. Batman and Robin wouldn’t get here in time, but the teenager had his back to Tim, and the ten-year-old was struck with a genius idea. Quietly, he picked up his skateboard and slowly edged towards the boy. With a loud yell, Tim took the skateboard and hit him soundly around the back of his head. The attacker crumpled like a leaf and Tim plucked the knife out of his hand.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked, turning to the girl. She nodded incredulously.

“Yeah, thank you so much,” she said. Tim pressed the knife into her hand.

“You should probably take this,” he said. Tim didn’t carry any weapons around Gotham, but apparently his skateboard worked well enough.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked. “I’m Mo.”

Mo was about a foot taller than Tim with dark eyes and fluffy brown hair cut to her chin. She looked to be about fifteen or sixteen and wore tattered jeans and a “Sal’s Fishing Shop” T-Shirt.

“I’m Tim,” he replied, sticking out his hand. She shook it firmly.

“You’re a crazy kid, Tim. Can I buy you dinner or something? As a thanks,” she said. Tim contemplated it. He didn’t need gratitude but a BatBurger sounded really awesome. His parents gave him enough money for groceries, but not a lot more than that. So between his camera costs and other assorted hobbies, Tim didn’t have much left over for stuff like fast food.

“Okay!” Tim replied, grinning. Two familiar shapes suddenly dropped into the alley and the two kids sucked in a breath.

“Hi, Mister Batman! Hi, Robin!” Tim exclaimed, waving excitedly. Mo also gave them a small wave.

“What happened here? We received a report of an altercation,” Batman said gruffly. Right. Batman wouldn’t be one for small talk when there were criminals out and about. Tim should have known this.

“Well, the guy on the ground started shaking me down for money when Tim here,” Mo said, thumb jutting towards Tim. “Hit him on the head with a skateboard and knocked him out.”

Batman and Robin both turned to stare at Tim. At least, Tim thought they were staring but it was hard to tell with the masks. Batman put a hand to his forehead while a grin spread across Robin’s face.

“I guess you weren’t lying when you said you could take care of yourself,” Robin said. That meant he remembered their night on the roof! Batman shot Robin a look. “Oh, not to say you should be out here. It’s still dangerous and that goes for both of you.”

Mo had the sense to at least look sheepish. Tim did not.

“Well, I was just about to take Tim to McDonalds,” Mo said, speaking it almost like a question. Batman sighed.

“Fine. Robin and I will secure the target and meet up with you at the restaurant. I have several questions for both of you,” the man said. Tim shuddered, picturing what being interrogated by Batman would be like. Meanwhile, Robin had already began securing the criminal. Tim knew they would still be a while; the pair had a specific protocol to follow that included calling the police, waiting for them to show up, and interrogating the criminal if they were conscious.

Mo took Tim’s hand, leading him out of the alley and towards the McDonalds which was only a block away. Even after she didn’t need to direct him, Mo kept holding his hand. It made his hand feel all tingly. It was nice though.

“You were pretty quiet back there. Scared of Batman or something?” Mo asked. Tim gaped at her.

“No! It’s just, he’s so cool!” Tim exclaimed, waving his hand around for extra effect. “I didn’t know what to say,” he finished miserably. Mo laughed.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to say what you want when he gets here later,” she said, pushing the door open. The McDonalds was nearly empty, as it probably should be at one PM on a Wednesday. The only occupants were the teenage girl manning the register and a college-aged boy quietly crying over his laptop. The pair walked up to order. Mo got nuggets and fries before motioning for Tim to go as well. He asked for the BatBurger kids meal. It came with action figures of the Justice League. Tim really only wanted the Gotham ones, but he supposed he would settle for Wonder Woman as well.

The tired teenager disappeared behind the counter after she took their order so Tim figured she must be the only employee. He wasn’t sure if that was even legal but Tim also doubted that something like this would be one of the GCPD’s priorities.

“So, is mauling bad guys with your skateboard normal for you?” Mo asked as they waited for their food.

“No, mostly I just watch them get beat up. I haven’t had to help before,” Tim replied. Mo’s face pinched.

“I’m starting to get where Robin was coming from when he told you to stay inside,” she replied. Something twisted in Tim’s gut, not wanting another lecture or worse, someone to intervene. He had thought Mo was pretty cool too; he didn’t realize she wouldn’t understand his hobby either.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to stop you,” Mo replied, sensing his worry. She sighed and pulled out a pencil and one of the brown napkins from the table. “Just, here’s my number. Call it if you ever need something. Or if you’re in the area and want some company.”

Tim nodded, taking the napkin and putting the number in his phone. He liked Mo and had to admit it would be fun to have someone to say hi to when he went out at night.

Their food came a minute later, and to Tim’s delight he got the Nightwing action figure.

They were nearly done eating when his eye caught the sight of Batman and Robin walking down the sidewalk, still several blocks away. Suddenly, Tim remembered everything. The adrenaline of fighting a bad guy and meeting Batman must have muddied his mind, because now he realized how horribly this would go if Batman started questioning him.

Tim was well aware of how his situation looked from the outside. He knew that if Batman found out, he would tell CPS and CPS would take him away into the system. The thing was, CPS just didn’t know how capable Tim was. Yeah, if he didn’t know how to take care of himself that would be very bad. But fortunately, Tim did know how to take care of himself so he didn’t need CPS taking him away. That would be infinitely worse than just an empty house.

“Mo, you gotta talk to Batman for me,” Tim said seriously. She laughed.

“Nah, Timmy, I think you can do it,” she replied, smiling.

“No, no, no. Not like that. I can’t be here when Batman gets here,” Tim explained. “So I need you to answer his questions for me.”

Mo’s brow furrowed.

“I’m going to need a better explanation than that,” she said. Tim’s mind raced through all the options of what he could say before finally landing on the truth.

“It’s just, if Batman talks to me he’s going to ask about where I live because I’m out so late at night,” Tim said. “I promise it’s safe, Mo. I have food and water and a bed and all that. It’s just… not entirely legal and if he knew CPS would come get me.”

Mo’s face pinched. Tim hoped that with the way he phrased it she would assume he was living in one of those homes that takes in street kids. Those were generally more accepted than empty mansions.

“Okay,” she relented. “I know how awful the system can be and if you triple promise that you’re safe, I’ll cover for you. But you have to text me every day so that I know you’re safe.

Tim nodded aggressively in agreement, slipping out of the booth and pocketing the Nightwing action figure.

“Get home safe,” Mo said, wrapping her arms around him. Tim froze before hesitantly hugging her back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. After another moment, she let go. “Now get going Timbo, we don’t want the bat seeing you on your way out.”

Chapter Text

Tim had been hanging out with Mo a lot since they met two weeks ago. The nine-year-old boy usually visited her at work until her shift ended and they would play in the shop’s backyard. Mo lived behind the fishing shop with Granny Sal, the owner. The pair would jokingly say that Granny Sal just kept her around for the labor, but Tim got the impression that Granny Sal was more like Mo’s real grandma.

Granny Sal didn’t seem to even notice the extra presence in the house at first. It wasn’t until she beckoned Tim over to help her with her puzzle that he realized she even knew he existed. She didn’t complain about his presence but did demand that he assist her with odd jobs around the house while Mo made dinner. Mo always cooked for them, since apparently Granny Sal was a hazard to be in the kitchen. So far, he and Granny Sal had set out Fairy traps (Granny Sal was a firm believer in the creatures and was set on catching one so she could convince Tim and Mo as well), painted the bathroom pink, concocted a suspicious looking purple sludge, and burned a pile of old letters as Granny Sal muttered curses against a man named Jack.

She was weird. Good weird. Tim liked her.

While the last two weeks had been fun, they had also been… weird. Bad weird. Tim had felt like there was someone watching him multiple times throughout the week. His suspicions were proved correct when the doorbell rang and Tim opened the door only to find no one there. However, just across the property line, bizarrely, was Jason Todd-Wayne. The teenager was hidden rather poorly behind a bush.

Jason didn’t seem to notice that he’d been spotted, so Tim just went inside and closed all the blinds. This did not deter the teenager, however, and Tim had seen him six times since then: either on the road or the bushes or once even on the porch. A few days after his initial spotting, a letter from the Wayne's appeared on the front porch. Frankly, Tim was becoming more and more wary of his neighbors and just left the note outside to compost.

Despite his neighbor's newfound obsession with Tim, they hadn't had the chance to talk with him since the gala.

This, at least, he could be grateful for. That single fact was the one thing keeping Tim from giving up and going back to sleep, since he was pulling himself out of bed at the ungodly hour of seven AM instead of his usual wake up time of one PM. He had to go to school today. There was a final project in English that required you to present in front of the class. Tim hadn’t actually read the book, but with enough internet research he put together a slideshow he thought would be sufficient.

The rain drizzled as Tim waited for the bus stop, slowly soaking the boy. There was no one else at the stop; Tim was pretty sure the bus stop in Bristol was just a legal obligation because everyone there took private transportation.

English was in second period, but the bus left in time for the first class, hence why Tim had to wake up even earlier. He figured he would kill time in the library while he waited.

The bus rounded the corner and immediately screeched to a stop, probably not expecting anyone to be there. Tim knew the drivers on the night-time shifts pretty well, but he didn’t go to school enough to know the day-time drivers. If he ever wanted to go into town n the daytime, he would just skateboard down there and catch the night-shift bus on the way back.

Tim clambered onto the bus and was hit by a wave of air conditioning causing him to shiver like a wet cat. He made a beeline for the back of the bus, passing the other passengers. Tim sat next to an old lady with a box of kittens in the back row and stared out the window.

“Would you like to hold her?” The old lady next to him asked, holding out a little white and gray kitten. Tim looked up at her, starstruck.

“Can I?” He whispered in awe. The woman nodded, smiling, and placed the cat into Tim’s arms. His arms curled around her awkwardly, having never held a kitten before. The kitten had been held before and she quickly rearranged herself to be pressed to Tim’s chest with her tiny paws resting on his arm. Her loud purrs shook Tim’s chest. A grin crept across Tim’s face as he shoved his face into her fur.

“My cat just had kittens,” the old lady said. “I’m trying to find them all homes since mine isn’t big enough for all of them.”

“Can I keep her?” Tim blurted out, looking up at the old lady.

“I don’t see why not. You seem like a very responsible young man,” she replied. “So long as you’ve got your parents' permission.”

It was easy to lie after that. He made up some far-fetched story about how his parents had been looking for a pet for ages but hadn’t found one that connected with Tim. In reality, Tim wasn’t even sure if they liked animals. But it would be easy enough to hide the cat for the weekend when his parents were home.

The kitten looked up at him with bright blue eyes and Tim patted her head softly, taking care not to bend her ears. The old lady rattled off a complex list of instructions for how to take care of the cat. Thankfully she had a paper with all the information on it too, so Tim didn’t have to remember everything she said.

When Tim got off the bus, he tucked the kitten into his jacket so that she wouldn’t get wet. He wasn’t… entirely sure how he was going to hide her at school. He didn’t have enough time to ride the bus home to drop her off. However, he did have a backpack. Tim found a less populated corner of the school courtyard and emptied his backpack. He would carry his schoolwork in his arms and let the kitten sit comfortably in his bag.

The warning bell rang and Tim got caught up with all the other students heading to classes. He was nearly run over by gangly teenagers and received more than a few strange looks. Tim could feel the kitten shifting around in his backpack and he whispered several quiet apologies.

The ten-year-old eventually managed to squeeze into the library. It was huge. Stairs led up to a balcony and books touched the ceiling. Students were sprawled evenly around the room, mostly seniors. A handful of them were doing schoolwork, but the majority of them were scrolling on their phones or attempting to sleep. Tim wound through the bookshelves before finding a small reading nook fitted with a a handful of soft chairs and small table.

He settled into a chair and unzipped his backpack, giving the kitten some air and freedom. Thankfully, she didn’t attempt to escape but instead was sound asleep. Tim turned on his laptop. His presentation was completed, but it was done during the middle of the night so he wasn’t sure how coherent it was.

“Hey, Tim!” a familiar voice whisper-yelled. Tim groaned. He really should have expected this. He looked up from his bag to lock eyes with Jason Todd-Wayne, who was waving enthusiastically as he walked in Tim’s direction. “I almost didn’t believe you the other day when you said you went to Gotham Academy.”

Tim wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so Jason continued.

“What are you working on?” he asked, sliding into the seat next to Tim’s.

“It’s a English presentation on…” Tim squinted to read the title. “Treasure Island.”

“Oh, do you have Ms. Macklemore?” Jason asked. Tim nodded to which Jason groaned. “Isn’t she the worst? I swear she hasn’t even read the books she’s having us read. She always takes points off my papers because my “thesis is wrong” when she clearly just doesn’t understand the themes of the book.”

Tim nodded along. He had no clue what Ms. Macklemore was like. He just compiled stuff off the internet for his assignments, but it seemed like that was what the teacher was looking for anyway. He doubted that Jason had been watching him for the last week just to ask him about school but he didn’t want to push the subject either way.

“Let me see your presentation,” Jason said, pulling the laptop towards him. “Between my brother and I, we’ve learned what kind of stuff she wants to see in this sort of thing.”

Jason read through the presentation in silence, though the grimaces on his face were not a good sign. He sat back with a sigh.

“Well, Tim,” he said, pausing for dramatic effect. “That was utterly atrocious. And also exactly what Ms. Macklemore wants to see. Seriously though, was that all from google?”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Tim replied. Jason laughed.

“Well, whilst it hurts my English-loving heart, you’ll probably get a great grade for this. I’m pretty sure Ms. Macklemore gets her rubric from google too.”

Well, that was reassuring.

“Can we get Jason Todd-Wayne to the office please,” came a loud voice over the speaker. Jason grimaced.

“Do you know what they’re calling you for?” Tim asked.

“Well, I may or may not have a class I’m ditching right now,” Jason said. Tim looked at him wide-eyed. Of course, Tim was not one to judge when it came to skipping class, but from the few conversations he had with the older boy he seemed very passionate about school. “Anyways, I’ll talk to you later Tim!” he said, grabbing his bag and skipping out of the library.

It really was bizarre that Jason had skipped class. It would make much more sense if the teenager left school or was hanging out with some friends, but instead he was just hanging around with Tim in the library. Tim decided not to dwell on it. While nice, the teenager was weird (see: stalker).

Tim’s kitten meowed loudly, climbing out of the backpack and on to Tim’s chest. She still needed a name. Careful not to disturb her, Tim started looking at cat name websites. The names weren’t horrible, but none of them fit.

“What if I call you… Bluejay?” Tim asked. The kitten purred loudly. “It would match with your blue eyes and it’s kind of like Robin.”

Bluejay continued to purr and Tim took that as a sign of approval. The pair sat like that, Bluejay resting on Tim’s chest as he petted her, for the remainder of the period until the obnoxious ringing of the bell signaled them to leave.

His presentation went well. He received a few odd looks upon his entrance to the classroom, but ultimately no one brought up the issue. Ms. Macklemore gave him full marks just as Jason had predicted. Bluejay only meowed a few times which sent a few students on a wild goose chase since they thought the kitten was prowling around instead of sitting in a backpack.

It was ten o'clock by the time Tim finally left the school and he was thoroughly exhausted. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like going every day for eight hours and silently thanked whoever was in charge of the school’s digital security for being unobservant.

Thankfully the rain had stopped so Tim and Bluejay weren’t soaked.

“Didn’t I just see you just this mornin’?” the bus driver asked as Tim clambered onto the bus.

“No.”

“Alright then.”

Chapter Text

Tim hauled himself onto the windowsill and peered inside the room. Sound asleep in her bed was Mo. He took this as a sign that their plans for tonight were canceled. They were supposed to go to the arcade, but the long work day appeared to have knocked the teenage girl out. While a little disappointed, Tim wouldn’t complain since it meant he could continue his regular night-time activities.

Batman and Robin were supposed to be patrolling near Eaker Street, which was about ten minutes South of Mo and Granny Sal’s house.

He hopped off the windowsill and began skating down the sidewalk, skillfully dodging assorted rubble. There had been a Riddler attack on Tuesday, but the excavation crews were still working on the rubble from the Joker attack on Monday.

Bluejay was tucked safely in his backpack. Tim had purchased a leash for the kitten so that she’d have some more freedom, but for now it was safest for her to stay in the bag.

He skated by the old Mattress Firm. It had long since been abandoned and most of the windows were smashed in. All of the mattresses had been looted, so now it was more like an empty warehouse. However instead of being empty like usual, three figures were seated at a round table. Tim hopped off his skateboard and looked through where a window had been. The woman on the right noticed him.

“Hi, Timmy!” Miss Ivy exclaimed, standing up and walking towards him.

“Hello, Miss Ivy,” Tim replied, waving. “How have your plants been?”

“They’ve been lovely,” she cood, using her abilities to lift him into the Mattress Firm. “How have you been my dear? Have my babies been keeping you company?”

Tim nodded. The plants Miss Ivy had given him were thriving and Tim liked to talk to them whenever the house got too quiet.

“Why don’t you join our tea party? I can introduce you to Harley and Catwoman,” she said.

“Really?” Tim asked softly, eyes sparkling. Miss Ivy smiled and led him towards the table. Miss Catwoman’s expression was a mix of confusion and disdain but Miss Harley’s was pure curiosity.

“You must be the little kiddo Ives was telling us about,” she said, smiling. Miss Ivy lifted one of her plants to make Tim a seat where he could be eye-level with the rest of them.

“You told them about me!” he exclaimed, whipping around to face Ivy. She laughed.

“Of course! It’s not often I meet someone as concerned as I am about this cities pollution. And never is it someone as young and smart as you,” Miss Ivy replied. They’d met after his parents had painted over the green “plant friendly” mark Miss Ivy had left on the door. Concerned that the woman would think he was a plant abuser and that she might attack him, Tim followed her for several weeks. Finally he had caught her alone and explained his point passionately to the befuddled woman. She assured him that she understood and Tim led her to his house to ensure she would remember. A few weeks later, fifteen potted plants showed up on his doorstep with a note reading “to a fellow enthusiast.”

“Oh, this is the Tim kid,” Catwoman said, taking a sip of her tea.

“Yep! This isn’t the first time we’ve met either. You’ve robbed my house before,” Tim replied, causing the woman to choke on her drink. “Don’t worry!” Tim continued frantically. “I really don’t mind. My parents probably would but I don’t think they noticed anything went missing. I just heard you when you came in and wanted to watch you work. You’re very talented Miss Catwoman.”

“Thank you…” she replied slowly, a small smile creeping onto her face. “And please, if you’re going to call me Miss, call me Miss Selina. Miss Catwoman is a mouthful.”

“Okay, Miss Selina,” Tim said chipperly. “Would you like to see my kitten?”

“I’d love to see pictures of her,” Miss Selina replied kindly but Tim shook his head.

“No, she’s right here,” he said, unzipping his backpack and pulling out Bluejay. Miss Selina nearly melted, pulling the kitten into her arms and petting her softly.

Their conversation continued pleasantly as the four of them sipped their tea. They talked about photography and Tim showed them some of his pictures that they were completely floored by. Miss Selina offered to teach him self-defense and Tim promised to reach out whenever he was free.

“If you’re ever in trouble, just know that Aunt Harley has got your back,” Miss Harley said as she pulled out a purple sharpie and wrote her phone number on Tim’s arm. “I’ll beat up anybody who tries to hurt ya’. I’m letting everyone know you’re under my protection.”

Miss Seline and Miss Ivy both echoed the sentiment, taking the sharpie from Harley and writing their phone numbers next to her.

A sudden explosion disrupted their tea party and the whole Mattress Firm shook.

“We need to get out of here,” Miss Selina said. She held Bluejay with one arm and picked Tim up like a football and ran out of the building. Ivy and Harley followed quickly behind and just seconds later the entire building collapsed. Maniacal laughter echoed down the street.

“Joker,” Miss Ivy growled. “He knew that was our spot.”

Speak of the devil and he will appear, because a moment later Joker was quite literally thrown into the street. Batman dropped down right after him and he and the villain continued trading blows in close combat. Robin came running towards them, aggression clear.

“No, no, no,” Tim exclaimed popping out in front of his friends. Robin screeched to halt looking thoroughly astonished. “They didn’t have anything to do with the attack. They were just having a tea party when Joker set off the bomb.”

“They’re still villains, Tim. Get away from them,” Robin growled.

“Look, I’m aware we’re criminals, but we’re not currently doing any crime. Joker, however, has another detonator in his hands,” Miss Selina said. Robin swiveled around and sure enough the man had procured another detonator. He swore loudly and Harley covered Tim’s ears.

The young vigilante was clearly torn, glancing between Batman and Joker and Tim and his friends.

“Look, we’ve all been wanting to beat up Joker for a while and he just ruined our party and almost killed our kid. So at least for the next battle, truce?” Selina asked, extending a hand to Robin. The boy looked at the hand and then at Tim. He sighed.

“Fine,” he said, shaking her hand. “Tim, I want you to climb that piece of rubble over there and stay there ‘till the fight is over,” Robin said, pointing to a large pile of rock about a hundred feet away from the battle. “The rest of us are going to fight Joker, okay.”

“Okay,” Tim replied, heart racing. He’d observed battles before, but never had he been caught up in one where the fighters knew he was there. He hugged Miss Ivy tightly.

“Be safe,” he said.

“How come she’s the favorite?” Harley grumbled before nearly falling over from the force of Tim’s hug. Miss Selina received a hug as well, but hers was much less aggressive since she hadn’t been complaining. The woman handed Tim Bluejay’s leash and then the three of them plus Robin took off running towards the battle. Tim scampered up the pile of rubble, taking care to go slow enough that his kitten could climb up as well.

The fight was awesome. Tim wanted to pull out his camera, but wasn’t sure if that would be too hard to explain. But then Miss Selina threw a roundhouse kick at the back of the Joker’s head and Tim knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t take any pictures. The Joker was swiftly losing under the pressure of five experienced fighters. Tim fumbled with his camera, trying not to dirty it with his dusty hands from climbing the rubble.

He’d just removed the lens cover when two arms wrapped around his neck. The camera dropped out of his hands, crashing down the pile of rubble. The arms pulled him up, applying pressure to his throat while allowing his toes to barely graze the ground.

“Help! Help!” Tim screamed, panic overtaking him. He thrashed around, trying desperately to free himself from the attacker’s grasp. The arm around his neck tightened and Tim gasped for air. He’d dropped Bluejay’s leash and the kitten had darted out of sight.

“Unlucky day,” the attacker’s voice whispered in his ear. Tears welled up in his eyes as breathing became harder and harder. He wasn’t sure if that was because of the light choking or the panic attack. No one had noticed what was happening. Tim was too far away and they were too preoccupied fighting the Joker. “Don’t worry, nothing bad will happen to you as long as the Bat cooperates.”

Tim steadied his breathing.

“Good. See there was no reason to freak out.”

And let out an earsplitting scream.

All five of the people fighting the Joker spun towards them, and anger overtook their features.

“The hell is wrong with you, Scarecrow? That’s a kid,” Harley yelled. Robin yelled something incoherent and through a piece of rock at the Joker, knocking the villain out.

“Don’t come any closer or else!” Scarecrow yelled. Something cold pressed into the side of his head. Oh. That was fine. This was fine. That was a gun. “Hand over the Joker or the kid gets it.”

Miss Ivy moved towards the unconscious figure of the Joker but Batman’s arm shot out to stop her.

“We can’t hand over the Joker,” he growled.

“He’s going to kill Tim if we don’t,” Ivy snarled. “What part of gun to the head do you not understand?”

“There has to be another way.”

The group continued arguing, but in a sudden moment of clarity Tim was able to remember a critical fact he had forgotten in his panic. Namely, the knives in his shoes. Mo had installed them last week after learning that Tim didn’t carry any weapons. The knife was triggered to come out after Tim hit his feet together in a specific way. She had made the contraption herself.

The noise of everyone screaming drowned out as Tim felt around with his feet and located the button. He took a deep breath, pressed the button, and kicked backwards with as much force as he could muster. Scarecrow screamed in pain, dropping Tim and sending him rolling down the tall pile of rock. His foot snagged on something and pain shot up his leg. He covered his head with his arms as he rolled, rocks cutting his skin.

Finally he stopped rolling. He took gasping breaths and covered his eyes with his hands. Hands touched him and he could hear frantic voices. Tim didn’t have thoughts any more. All he could sense was breathing and pain and the hands that would not stop touching him. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Miss Ivy, Miss Selina, and Miss Harley looking down at him.

“Okay, no concussion. That’s good Timmers,” Miss Harley said, smiling at him. She continued to check over the rest of his body as Ivy held his hand. Bluejay nestled snugly on Tim’s chest, purring loudly. Tim looked up to see Batman cuffing a badly beaten Scarecrow. Robin was a few yards away dragging an unconscious Joker towards the group. Tim watched it all in a daze. “Hey, Boy Wonder,” Miss Harley yelled. “Do you got a med kit on you?” The vigilante nodded and chucked a small yellow packet in their direction.

“It’s gonna sting like hell but it’s important to disinfect your scrapes,” Miss Harley said. Tim nodded and she began applying hydrogen peroxide. Tim gripped Miss Ivy’s hand as he attempted to hold in tears. The fall had left him very scraped up, which meant Miss Harley had a lot of area to cover. Batman and Robin were both gone. They had left to hand over the villains to the police with promises to return. Everyone was grateful for it, knowing the hassle it would be if the police saw Ivy, Harley, and Selina.

“That was very brave of you,” Miss Selina said as Miss Harley switched to start tending his right arm.

“I wouldn’t say so. I was just trying not to get murdered,” Tim replied softly.

“Most ten-year-olds would have been way too scared to do anything,” she said. “That’s got to count for something, hm?”

“I guess.”

By the time Miss Harley finished disinfecting and dressing his wounds, Batman and Robin appeared in the distance. As they approached, the woman sucked in a breath.

“You’ve got a nasty sprain here, Timmers,” she said as Batman loomed behind her.

“I will take him home,” he said gruffly. It was silent for a moment.

“Yeah, you’ll take care of him. Won't cha bats?” Miss Harley replied fondly. “You’re gonna have to carry him. His foot is too injured to walk on.”

Robin picked up Bluejay and Batman swept Tim up and held him in his arms. Tim couldn’t be more thrilled; this was basically a hug from Batman. He gave Miss Ivy, Miss Harley, and Miss Selina high-fives goodbye since he couldn’t really hug them in his position.

“Remember those phone numbers!” Miss Selina told him.

“And if you wanna take a villain apprenticeship I’d be happy to have ya’,” Miss Harley yelled Batman shot a glare at her.

“Not until you’re eighteen though,” Miss Ivy tacked on.

“You will not be taking that apprenticeship,” Batman said lowly. Tim wasn’t going promise anything yet; he wanted to keep his options open.

“So, what’s your address Tim?” Robin asked. Tim racked his brain. He couldn’t say Drake manor because the lack of adults would arouse suspicion. He had told Robin last month that he lived in that red brick building, but he didn’t think he could salvage that lie. However, there was one more address that could work. Turns out he and Mo would be hanging out tonight after all.

Tim rattled off the address and both Batman and Robin were silent. Tim’s heart skipped a beat.

“It’s not actually my house,” he blurted out in an attempt to salvage his story. “My parents are on a trip so they’re having me stay with a friend.”

His comment did not have the desired effect as the silence grew even thicker.

“Alright,” Batman said. “Why don’t you call your parents so I can inform them of the situation?”

“They’re asleep where they are right now so I’ll call them tomorrow,” Tim replied. Robin grimaced. Tim really had no idea what was wrong with that comment, or anything he had said during the conversation frankly. It seemed pretty standard: kid’s parents are on vacation in a different time zone so he stays at his friend’s house and calls them in the mornings. Thankfully, despite their obvious discomfort, the pair did not push the topic.

“You ready to ride in the Batmobile?” Jason asked, skipping ahead of them and walking backwards.

“I get to ride the Batmobile!” Tim screeched. It came out louder than he was expecting. He was just about to apologize when he heard the quiet sound of Batman laughing and shut his mouth. Tim just made Batman laugh. He would never get down from this high.

The trio rounded the corner and sure enough, in all it’s bat-themed glory, was the Batmobile. Tim squealed and tried (and failed) to squirm out of Batman’s hold to get a better look.

“You can examine it all you want another day when you’re not injured,” Batman said, opening the back door and setting Tim down inside. Robin sat down in the driver’s seat to which he received a firm ‘no’ from Batman. So instead, the vigilante crawled over the console into the captain’s seat.

The inside of the Batmobile was amazing. It was sleek and dark just like the outside and it had all sorts of buttons that Tim’s fingers itched to press. It was even better when they started driving. Gotham city became a blur as they zoomed down the streets and Tim thought he could die happy. They screeched to a halt all too soon.

“Sorry,” Batman said gruffly. “Wasn’t expecting it to be this building.” Which was fair. Most people didn’t live in a fishing shop.

“The house entrance is around the back,” Tim said as Batman scooped him up. They rounded the house and pushed open the metal gate leading to the tiny backyard. Robin knocked on the door. There was no response so Robin rang the doorbell and soon after feet padded down the stairs and locks were unclasped. The door was opened with a loud creak.

“Hi, Batman,” Mo squeaked, eyes wide and hair disheveled.

“Hi, Mo! I got held hostage and Batman and Robin wanted to escort me back to where I’m staying for the week,” Tim said, before anyone had the chance to say anything that would poke holes in his story.

“Tim!” she screeched, horrified, as she stepped to the side to let them in. “You can set him down on the couch,” she continued, chucking a pile of magazines and fishing line off of it. Bluejay was also set down and unclipped from her leash. She immediately began trying to eat the fishing line so Mo scooped her up and deposited her in Tim’s arms.

“What’s all this racket about?” a voice called from upstairs.

“Batman and Robin are in our living room, Granny,” Mo yelled back as Batman set Tim down.

“Make sure they don’t try to steal any bait,” Granny Sal replied. Robin snorted.

“Yeah, she’s a bit paranoid,” Mo said quietly. “Thanks for taking care of Timbo. He’s a tough kid but a stupid one.”

Tim made a noise of offense and Mo stuck her tongue out at him.

“No thanks are required,” Batman replied. He and Robin stood by the door, seemingly hesitant to leave. Robin kept shooting Tim furtive glances while Batman rubbed his hands together awkwardly.

“Hey, we have Tim here safe and sound,” Mo said. “Nothing is going to happen to him under our roof. I’m trained in first aid so I can tend to his injuries. We’ll take care of him.”

She smiled down at Tim and something warm bloomed in his chest. Batman and Robin stayed silent for another moment.

“I see. Have a good night,” Batman said. Robin protested in hushed tones as they left, but moment later the door shut and there was complete silence. Mo held her face in her hands.

“Tim you have got to stop making me lie to the Batman.”

Chapter Text

After forcing an explanation out of Tim last night, Mo made him sleep over. Tim wasn’t complaining about it though. It wasn’t like he could easily make it to the bus stop in his current condition.

“We ain’t going to have you skipping out on your education while you’re stayin’ with us,” Granny Sal said over their breakfast of fruit loops.

“Mo doesn’t even go to school and she lives with you!” Tim exclaimed, distraught.

“That’s ‘cause I homeschool her,” Grandma Sal replied smugly. Tim sunk into his seat. He couldn’t imagine being taught by Granny Sal, but there’s no way it could be worse than attending school. “So, you’re gonna go to school, pick up anything that you need for you or for your cat, and come right back here. Mo told me your parents are out which means you’re staying here till they get back.”

On the plus side, this meant that his lie to Batman had actually just become a truth. On the minus side, Granny Sal was determined to make him attend school for the rest of the week. He consoled himself with the fact that it would only be Thursday and Friday since his parents would be back on Sunday. But that meant sixteen whole hours of school or rather: Tim’s worst nightmare.

“I borrowed some crutches from the neighbors,” Mo said as she swept up their dishes and dumped them in the sink. Tim groaned. There went his ‘I can’t walk’ excuse.

Granny Sal went with him to the bus, and the humorous glint in her eye told Tim that there was no way she was letting him escape. Tim stuck his tongue out at her as she waved goodbye. To Tim’s dismay, the elderly woman did not allow Tim to bring Bluejay to school with him. However, he suspected that it was much more about her wanting time with the cat than it was about the legality of bringing a cat to school.

The bus was crowded, much unlike the one that ran through Bristol. Tim squeezed through before finally finding an empty seat. He sat down heavily and held his crutches close to his chest, trying and failing not to hit other people with them. The drive was incredibly bumpy, probably due to the number of recent explosion-based crimes and the lack of employees on the excavation team. Methods of criming went in and out of style, but most of Gotham could agree that it was most annoying when bombs were in.

Tim missed his camera. It had been completely destroyed by the fall. He’d have to save up for at least a month in order to buy another, and that included eating only cheap meals like ramen. Maybe he could start selling his Batman and Robin photos, like Peter Parker. Granted, that may make Batman suspicious. But also, money.

They reached the stop for Gotham Academy much sooner than Tim would have liked. A few other kids clambered off the bus with him. He crutched clumsily through the crowded courtyard. Unfortunately, he could not escape to the library this time since there were monitors who would surely notice if he stayed there the entire day. So instead, Tim dragged himself into the first period: history.

He drew much unwanted attention as he walked in, probably because of the crutches, his age and the fact that he’d never been there before. He scuttled over to a seat in the back row. Tim fully intended to space out and pretend he was at home and not an education-shaped prison, but his table-mates had other plans.

“Dude, who are you?” asked a boy on his right.

“I’m Tim.”

This answer did not satisfy them, obvious by the three pairs of eyes staring blankly at him.

“Okay, Tim,” the same boy continued. “Where have you been all year? School ends in a month.”

“Oh, I was really sick for the whole year so I had special permission to do my work at home,” he lied. “But I’m feeling better now so my parents wanted me to try going back in person.”

The trio nodded along.

“Is that what the crutches are for?” the girl asked.

“Yeah, that’s what the crutches are for,” Tim lied. The teacher stood up from her desk, snaking through the rows of tables. When she reached Tim’s, she paused. She stared at Tim for a moment, and the boy held his breath in anticipation. But then she moved on with an expression of ‘I’m not paid enough to deal with this’. Gotham teachers rarely were, even at fancy rich schools.

Class started soon after. Surprisingly, Tim was mildly interested in the subject matter: Samurai warriors in Japan. He was handed a couple worksheets, which his tablemates helped with when he didn’t know the answers. All in all, it wasn’t horrible. At least, not like Tim would have expected.

His tablemates introduced themselves just as the class was ending, having forgotten to do so at the beginning. The boy asking Tim questions was Jeremy, the girl was Priya, and the last boy was Dylan. They compared schedules for the rest of the day and found that Tim had art with Priya and Algebra with Jeremy. He didn’t have any with Dylan, but the older boy didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

The rest of the school day went by smoothly, though Tim did not enjoy another class as much as history. English was boring, his classmates in science were annoying, algebra was easy, PE was humiliating, and Tim was atrocious at art. Priya had actually laughed when she saw his attempt at watercolor. But now, it was three and Tim was finally free. Until tomorrow at least.

He’d made it throughout the day without running into Jason. Tim saw the teenager of course, but did not engage. Jason was weird. Tim did not appreciate the boy stalking him, so he was grateful that Jason seemed to have lost interest.

Kids swarmed the courtyard as a line of cars pulled up to bring them home. It was Gotham Academy after all, and while a few kids weren’t from rich families, most of them were. Tim sat awkwardly at the bus stop with only a handful of other students/

“Hey! Tim!” a familiar voice yelled. Tim placed his head in his hands. He thought this was over. He was wrong, evidenced by the figure of Jason Todd bouncing happily toward the bus stop. The little boy attempted to mask his horror as the teenager grew closer. “I didn’t see you at all this week!”

Tim shrugged.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking the bus too, today. Alfie’s is busy and my dad and brother are both working,” the teenager said as he typed something in his phone. Tim eyed him skeptically, since only about twenty feet away was the Wayne’s car. Now, it wasn’t like Tim was knowledgeable about all the high society people’s cars, its just that this specific car had a bumper sticker reading ‘Jason Todd was here’. Which was… more than a little incriminating. “So, what have you been up to?” Jason asked as they climbed onto the bus.

“Just normal stuff, I guess,” Tim replied.

“What happened to your foot? Is it a break or a sprain?” Jason asked gesturing to the crutches. Unsurprisingly, the teenager had claimed a seat right next to Tim.

“Just a sprain,” Tim replied. “The doctor said that I’ll have to be on crutches for a few weeks but I should be totally healed in eight weeks.

“That’s good. A fall like that could get you a lot worse,” Jason replied conversationally.

That wasn’t right. Something about that wasn’t right. Tim’s head spun as Jason continued blabbering. Tim hadn’t told anyone that his injury was because of a fall. The only people who knew were Miss Ivy, Miss Harley, Miss Selina, Batman, and -

Oh.

Jason Todd-Wayne was Robin.

Robin was Jason Todd-Wayne.

Jason knew Tim was the son of the Drakes.

Robin knew that Tim went out alone at night.

Jason knew where Tim lived and went to school.

Robin knew that he wasn’t supervised.

Tim couldn’t breathe.

“Hey!” a frantic voice faded back in. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

Tim was thrust gracelessly back into reality.

“I’m fine,” he replied breathlessly. “What were you saying?”

Jason made a face of concern and Tim couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. The tilt of their head when they were worried was the same. They both had a matching scar on their lip. No wonder Jason had taken an interest in Tim; it was because he knew what was happening when he was Robin.

The vigilante kept talking and Tim nodded and hummed along as his mind raced, hardly listening to a word Robin was saying. Pressure built in his throat and tears threatened to spill as he desperately tried to calm his racing heart. The bus stopped and Tim shot off without a goodbye.

If Jason Todd-Wayne was Robin, then Bruce Wayne was Batman. And if Bruce Wayne knew what Batman knew, that meant that CPS was soon to be notified. If CPS was notified, then Tim would be taken away from his freedom and be put into the system.

Tim had to get out of Gotham, and he had to get out of Gotham fast.

He stepped inside of Drake Manor and the door shut loudly behind him, echoing throughout the house. He probably had about another hour before Mo and Granny Sal started to get worried.

Tim hobbled upstairs, dialing a phone number. The creaking on the crutches echoed throughout the empty house.

“You’ve reached Victor Hale,” a tired voice crackled through the speaker.

“Hello, Victor,” Tim said, throwing items haphazardly into his suitcase. “You owe me a favor.”

Victor did, in fact, owe Tim a favor. The child had found the man bleeding out after a run-in with a rival gang last year. Through his blood-loss induced delirium, the man had been adamant about not going to the hospital. Batman and Robin were nowhere nearby and Tim knew he couldn’t drag the man to the hospital if he was kicking and screaming, so instead the boy pulled out his first aid kit and looked up a youtube tutorial and got to work. It was a messy job, but Victor was pulled away from death’s door.

Tim sat with him until the man regained consciousness and walked him back home. By the time they had reached the man’s apartment, Victor was clearheaded enough to recognize what Tim had done. He gave the child his phone number and a promise to return the favor one day. The man’s apartment was filled with everything needed to forge ID’s, passports, and other similar things. Tim could connect the dots.

“I need a new ID, urgently,” the boy continued. “Put it under the name of Alvin Draper. And make me eleven years old.”

Tim could pass as an eleven-year-old. It wouldn’t be much help now but it would certainly be useful in the long run. If he could get a stable job for himself at thirteen rather than fifteen, he could be self sufficient much sooner. In the meantime, Tim would have to rely on people’s charity and whatever odd jobs he could get his hands on.

“Wait, you’re that little kid,” Victor mumbled. “I’ll have everything ready for you by tomorrow morning. Anything else you need?”

Tim paused for a moment as he thought about what he might need.

“A taser and and a new phone,” he settled on at last.

“Done.”

Tim hung up. He pulled out his laptop and booked Tim Drake a flight to Egypt to see his parents and pulled himself out of school with a heartfelt note about how “our dear Tim is going to homeschooled so that he can spend more time with us.” That would throw any cops or teachers off his scent. Batman might be suspicious, but it would take a long time to contact Tim’s parents, giving the boy a strong headstart. And if Mr. Wayne didn’t find a lead, then the police likely wouldn’t be notified until the Drakes arrived home next month to find their son missing.

He also sent an email to his dojo, telling his martial arts master that he would be traveling with his parents for a while. It was disappointing; Tim really liked Master Jake but he’d just have to find another teacher elsewhere.

Tim hadn’t decided where he was going to go yet for his great escape. He didn’t want it to be somewhere too close, since he’d be too easy to find.But the more public transport he took in the next few months the more likely he was to be found, which ruled out anything too far West. He also couldn’t go to someplace that cared too much about the law and would report him to the police, but it would be nice to go somewhere where people would be inclined to help a random kid on the street. With all these factors, there really was only one place Tim could go.

Wisconsin.

The cold was an issue, but it was April now and Tim was sure he could find somewhere to live come September. He pulled up the bus routes and carefully planned his travel. It would take him fifteen hours to travel to Fawcett City. He would spend the night there before traveling to Milwaukee the next day.

Tim finished packing and the results were faintly embarrassing. He really didn’t have much he wanted to take with him. He packed his laptop, headphones, a handful of clothes, and a tattered Batman (Bruce Wayne?) stuffed animal that he’d been given for his fourth birthday.

Tim stood at the threshold, crutches under his arms, suitcase trailing behind him, and backpack on his back, when he had a last minute idea. He set the suitcase down and began trashing his room. Maybe Tim Drake had been kidnapped, at least that’s what he hoped Batman/Bruce Wayne would think. The boy pushed down a small tug of guilt as he did so, thinking about how worried it would make everyone.

After his room was sufficiently destroyed, Tim finally left. He took one final look around the empty manor. He looked up at the undusted bookshelves and the untouched cabinets and decided that of all things he would miss about Gotham, this wasn’t one of them. Tim was calmer than he probably should have been, as he looked around what should have been his home and decided that he would not care if he never set foot there again.

His crutches squeaked on the wooden floor. Tim opened the front door.

And he left.

He left and he didn’t even look back. There was nothing at Drake Manor for him anymore.

Tim wasn’t sure if there ever was.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Timber, how was school?” Mo asked as Tim opened the creaky door. The smell of Alfredo filled the house. Granny Sal sat on the old couch, smugly petting a purring Bluejay.

“It was fine,” Tim said, discarding his backpack, suitcase, and crutches next to the couch and sitting next to Granny Sal. He made an attempt to wrestle Bluejay out of the old woman’s arms so he could hold her, but Granny Sal just pulled Tim into her arms as well. Tim stopped struggling and breathed. He could feel the rise and fall of the woman’s chest and the soft purring of Bluejay in his arms.

They sat like that for a while. Tim told her about his day. She was happy to hear that he’d made some friends (at least Tim thinks they’re friends. He doesn’t really know how that’s all supposed to go). Granny Sal told him about their uneventful work day at the fishing shop and soon enough Mo called out that dinner was ready.

They sat at the small round table. A children’s princess chair from the backyard had been pulled up for Tim while the older two sat in their regular wooden seats. Bluejay hopped up onto the table and no one really had the heart to shove her off.

After dinner, Mo insisted that they watch The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

“It’s so good,” she insisted. “I mean, it’s weird but it’s so good.”

Granny Sal sighed and muttered something along the lines of ‘this is the third time this month’ but ultimately no one protested. Granny Sal and Mo sat on the couch first and Tim hesitated. It was really only a two person couch. Mo looked up and caught his eyes.

“C’mere,” she said, grabbing his arms and pulling him into the small space in between her and Granny. Granny Sal slung an arm over Tim’s shoulder as Mo turned on the movie. A few minutes later a hand slipped onto his head, carefully carding through the locks of hair. It was almost overwhelming. But as Tim laid on the couch, falling asleep, tucked between Mo and Granny Sal, he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

He woke up in his bed the next morning to Mo shaking him softly.

“C’mon,” she said as he screwed his eyes closed. “You’ve got to head out for school soon.”

He whined as she pulled him out of bed and dragged him down to the breakfast table. Granny Sal ruffled his hair as she sat down and Mo nudged his leg to tell him to start eating.

He would miss this.

He would miss them.

Breakfast was over all too quickly. Tim hugged Granny Sal tightly and nearly knocked Mo over with the force of his hug. She held him back just as tightly, kneeling down to his level.

“Is everything okay?” she whispered. Tim nodded and for the first time in his life the lie made him want to throw up. Lying was supposed to make things easier; it wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Mo hugged him tighter before sitting back with a sigh and ruffling his hair. “Have a good day at school Timbo,” she said softly.

The walk to the bus stop was somber. Granny Sal tried to make conversation a few times, but stopped after his fourth one-word reply.

“Tim,” she said as he stepped onto the bus. “Mo and I care about you a lot. I know you’re going back to your parents’ tonight but you always have a place in our home.”

Tim nodded and told her that he knew that. Of course he knew that.

He’d have to go away for a while, but he hoped naively that he could come see them again one day. Their numbers were the only two saved on his new phone. Granny Sal ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug as the bus screeched to a halt in front of them.

And Tim got on the bus.

It was anticlimactic, in a way. All it took was one step onto a bus and he was gone. The bus was crowded so no one really noticed Tim sliding under a row of seats. Lots of the kids were headed up to Gotham Academy, and Tim couldn’t have any of them noticing when he didn’t get off the bus.

His backpack squirmed and the kitten inside of it meowed loudly.

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispered. “You gotta stay in there till we get on the train.”

On the bottom of the seat was a disgusting amount of gum and a weird green substance that seemed to be somewhat alive next to Tim’s left foot.

He moved his foot.

The bus made a few more stops before finally ending at Gotham Academy. Kids voices slowly faded until the door closed with a loud creak. Tim stayed deadly silent as the bus prattled on, now nearly empty. He kept one hand in his backpack to pet Bluejay so that she’d stay quiet. The bus stopped again and a swarm of people boarded. Tim swung up and sat on the seat just above him.

A red-haired woman in a wheelchair made eye-contact with him as she rolled into the accessible area behind him. He looked down quickly. Can’t be memorable: that was today’s motto. Really, it shouldn’t have been this difficult. People hardly looked twice when Tim ran around Gotham before, but now it felt like people were watching him everywhere. It wa annoying.

The bus bumped over the road as they passed over the sight of a recent Joker bombing. The driver almost hit a few of the clean-up workers. After that, the woman turned off the rubble-filled road and told the passengers that they’d take a different route to Bludhaven.

The road slowly evened out and Tim nearly began to nod off. He was startled out of his sleepiness when Bluejay crawled out of her backpack and onto Tim’s shoulders. It was probably best to put her harness on now, Tim figured. He dug it out of his backpack as the kitten sniffed at his hair. It took a minor battle to harness the creature, but after a few minutes Bluejay was safely attached to her lease.

“That’s a cute cat,” someone said behind him. Tim jumped. It was the red-haired woman in the wheelchair. “What’s his name?”

“Bluejay,” Tim replied as the kitten began purring in his lap. The woman hummed.

“Cute name.”

Tim shuffled in his seat beneath the woman’s gaze. There was something stern and calculating about it that made the boy feel like she saw right through him.

“Thanks,” he replied, staring pointedly out the window, trying his best to avoid the woman’s eyes on his back.

The bus screeched to a halt in Bludhaven only moments later. Tim shot up immediately, grabbing his belongings and dipping through the crowd. After his feet made contact with the sidewalk, he immediately took off running out of sight. Logically, he knew that the lady on the bus couldn’t know what he was doing or who he was, but her stern gaze made him doubt that assessment regardless.

Once safely out of sight, Tim slowed down. His heavy backpack weighed down his shoulders as he bundled Bluejay in his arms. The train station was less than a quarter mile from his location. Bludhaven was similar to Gotham, with the crime and all, but it was different in all the ways that really mattered. Gotham was familiar, and, while it may sound strange, Tim always found the city friendly. The night air felt like a companion as he would wander around the streets. Bludhaven felt hostile and angry and Tim wished more than anything to already be on the train out to Wisconsin.

“Hey,” a voice said above him. Tim looked up, startled, only to have his heart drop. Panic seized him as he realized that Nightwing was standing on the rooftop. The man jumped down and Tim skidded backwards, fingers curling into Bluejay’s fur. “A little birdie told me about a kid wandering around where he shouldn’t be. What’re you up to, bud?”

There was a smile on Nightwing’s face and a friendly lilt to his tone but it all terrified Tim. His plan was foolproof and he couldn’t have it ruined now. Nightwing had to be Dick Grayson; Tim realized that now. And Mr. Grayson would tell Batman and Tim’s entire life would be ruined.

Nightwing took a step forward. Tim stepped back.

Amidst his panic, one thing finally stood out, crystal clear. A small metal device resting in his pocket: a taser. Tim thanked his past self for remembering to ask Victor the fake-ID guy to buy this for him. He’d requested it in case of emergency with criminals, but vigilantism was illegal. And Nightwing was a vigilante, so he was a criminal too.

He stopped stepping backwards, and consciously relaxed his shoulder’s and summoned tears to his eyes. Although the tears may not have been entirely fake.

“Sorry, I just,” Tim took a shaky breath. “I wanted to see Bludhaven cause I’ve never left Gotham before.” Mr. Grayson took a few steps forward, a sympathetic expression on his face. “But it’s really scary here.” Tim let a few tears fall.

“Aw, Timmy, it’s alright. I’ll go with you back to-”

Tim lunged forward, shooting the taser into the man’s chest. Nightwing shouted in surprise and pain and Tim took off running down the sidewalk. His lungs burned and his heart raced. Bluejay was thankfully still, clinging to Tim’s neck for his life. The train station was in sight. Tim glanced behind to see Mr. Grayson chasing after him just a few blocks away.

The boy skidded to a halt at the ticket station, scanned the ticket on his phone, and took off running again. He darted into the closest door before skidding around people as he made his way to the farthest car. Once he arrived, he locked himself in the bathroom and as the train began, he finally breathed.

Chapter Text

Eventually, Tim left the bathroom after hearing a substantial line of people grumbling about the lack of available stalls. He nodded at them sheepishly before skittering down the hallway and finding himself in an observation car. The only other occupants were an elderly woman, her grandson, and a teenager typing angrily at his phone.

Tim set Bluejay down on a table next to the window, and the kitten eyed the outside world with awe. His fingers curled through Bluejay’s fur as the view whizzed past. His great escape. It was nearly in its final stage now; just ten short hours and it would be complete. Mr. Grayson’s appearance had complicated things. Tim would have to be more careful than he had planned for a while, but that was okay. He was good at being unnoticed.

Well, he had been good at being unnoticed. Until the Wayne’s had decided to become much too interested in his personal life.

But there were no Wayne’s in Wisconsin, so everything would be fine.

Tim’s stomach grumbled loudly, spooking Bluejay to the other side of the table. The angry looking teenage boy looked up, the hands holding his phone dropping a few inches.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, gruffly, staring intensely at Tim through thick dark eyebrows.

“Uhm,” Tim replied, unsure of what answer the boy was looking for.

“You are,” the teenager replied, accusatory. He stood abruptly. “Come on, then,” the teenager said, looking expectantly at Tim. The young boy scrambled to his feet, picking a reluctant Bluejay off the table. Tim trailed behind the teenager, whose pale hands were shoved into the pocket of his dark hoodie. Everything about the older boy’s tone and body language seemed hostile, but he hadn’t actually done anything bad yet.

They walked through four cabins in complete silence. Bluejay, who was trotting beside them, wove between the older boy’s legs, yet the teenager gave no sign of recognition. They had just entered the fifth cabin when the teenager came to an abrupt stop. Tim only nearly missed running into him.

It was the dining car.

The teenager gestured for Tim to order at the counter.

“Get whatever you want.”

Tim looked up at the boy, eyes wide. The teenager sighed.

“I’ll get something too. Don’t worry about it,” he said. Tim’s eyes skipped over the menu, eyes locking on the Mac n Cheese and Fish Sticks.

“Can I get the Mac n’ Cheese and Fish Sticks?” he asked the teenager.

“Ask them, not me,” the older boy replied.

Tim rattled his order off to the worker, and the teenager added a spaghetti and two Dr. Peppers to the order.

“You like Dr. Pepper?” the teenager asked, although it didn’t really sound like a question. Tim nodded. The boy made a noise of approval. They received their food a few moments later, after standing in comfortable silence. Tim trailed behind the teenager as they walked back to their cabin.

The old lady and her grandson were gone. Tim slid into a chair and set his food down in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said as the teenager sat down across from him.

“D’you think its safe for cats can eat meatballs?” the teenager asked, ignoring him.

“I think it’s okay,” Tim answered. The teenager stuck his fork into the meatball and deposited it on the table next to Bluejay, cutting it up into tiny pieces that the kitten could scarf down. “My name’s Tim.”

“Aiguo,” the teenager replied. His phone buzzed; Aiguo looked down at it and scowled.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.

“My mom’s tryna’ convince me to go back to Blud,” he said through mouthfulls of food. “I’m going to my dad’s right now. I’m s’posed to stay with her this month but she got all drunk again when she promised me she’d been sober. I’m just done with it.”

Tim looked down at his food. “I’m sorry”

“Don’t be. Doesn’t really matter anyways. She’s not gonna call the cops on me and dad and I turn eighteen next month anyways,” he finished. It was all said with relatively little emotion, but Tim could tell that the boy was mostly tired of the situation instead of angry.

They ate the rest of the meal in relative silence. Thankfully, Aiguo didn’t question Tim about why he was on a train alone to Wisconsin. The teenager didn’t really seem like the type to pry. When they finished eating, Aiguo held out a nintendo switch for Tim to take.

“Trade?” he said. “I pet the cat. You play.”

Tim agreed.

A hand shook Tim awake. Groggily, he uncurled from his position lying against the window. Aiguo was saying something as he held Tim’s phone. Tim had played on the teens switch for hours and had at some point, evidently, fallen asleep.

“There’s my number,” Aiguo said, handing Tim’s phone back to him. “In case you need anything out here in Wisconsin.”

The statement shook Tim out of his groggy haze and he glanced out the window. Sure enough, they were stopped. The indoor station was nearly empty, save for the passengers departing his train. Quickly, Tim swung his backpack and hunted for Bluejay’s leash. The kitten had been attempting to climb the doorframe.

The boys walked to the exit together.

“Thanks. For the food and the company and stuff,” Tim said, feeling sheepish. He shouldn’t have to be looked over. He had never had to be looked over. But, either way it had been… nice. Aiguo reminded Tim of Mo and Granny Sal. Not personality-wise, obviously.

But they were all kind.

“‘S’no problem,” Aiguo replied, stepping onto the platform. “Well, I’ll see you around Tim.”

Aiguo gave the boy a nod of goodbye, and Tim could see a small smile on his lips.

“Bye!” Tim called after him as the teenager walked up to who Tim assumed was his father.

The boy skidded away to the exit, cold air hit him as he opened the doors. The sky was dark as stars, real stars glittered in the gaps between clouds. The clouds from which large snowflakes were falling.

It was not supposed to be snowing. It was not even supposed to be cold enough for that to be possible, Tim thought bitterly, as he pulled his jacket around him. He had checked the weather app a lot of times, but he supposed that was his own hubris on behalf of the weathermen.

Tim walked down the block. Almost no one was out, save for a few people walking their dogs. The snowy weather certainly put a… wrench in his plans. He was supposed to sleep in the park, or an alley or something, at least for the first night. He certainly didn’t have the money to blow on a hotel. The four hundred dollars in his pocket now felt painfully insufficient to provide for him for the next month.

The boy didn’t know where, but he kept walking as he desperately tried to come up with a solution. He could probably text Aiguo; that’s what the teenager had said his number was for. But still, that was a last resort.

Tim’s breathing picked up as his mind continued running laps. Anxiety and fear twisted at his stomach as tears built behind his eyes. He could hardly feel as his legs gave out and he slid to the icy sidewalk. Bluejays paws pressed into his chest, as she meowed, concerned.

“Woah, are you out here alone?” a bright voice questioned. Tim looked up. A black haired blue eyed boy who looked about Tim’s age was staring at him inquisitively, carrying a garbage bag over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Tim burst into tears.

“Woah, woah, woah,” the boy said, chucking the bag into the dumpster. “Don’t cry - uh- do you wanna’ go inside? It’s warm and my uncle won’t mind. At least until you figure out what you’re doing.”

“Yes, please,” Tim replied, furiously wiping away at his tears. “Sorry that I’m crying.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the boy said, grabbing his arm. “I literally cried like twenty minutes ago cause Lieutenant Awesome died in the Fantastic Force.”

Maybe it was because he was cold, tired, and overwhelmed in a city far away from home or maybe it was because Tim was a naive ten year old, but the boy let himself be led into the nearby apartment building. Tim was silent, but the other boy continued blabbering on as he tapped the button to send them to the eighth floor.

“And after we crashed into the snow without any coats on, my uncle had ta’ pull the two of us outta’ the pile and drive us home really fast cuz it was like negative twelve degrees or something and he didn’t want us getting frostbite,” the boy said as he led them down the hall, a slight midwestern accent lilting his words. They stopped at the fifth door which the boy pushed open.

There was someone in the kitchen, and the smell of grilled cheese wafted through the air. Tim faltered for a moment, but the other boy grabbed his hand and pulled Tim along with him. An older man was hunched over the stove.

“Food nearly ready and, oh,” the man said. “Who’s this, Billy?”

Billy swiveled to look at him. Tim was sure he looked a mess: shivering, tear tracks on his face, clutching a slightly damp cat.

“I forgot to ask,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Tim.”

“He’s Tim,” Billy said, spinning back around to the man. “I found him by the dumpster.”

“Does Tim need some food?” the man asked, seeming rather unsurprised by Tim’s presence. Tim nodded. “I’ll put another sandwich on then. You two go sit down at the table.”

“That’s my Uncle Dudley by the way,” Billy said, pulling plates out of the cabinet and setting them down on the wooden table. “Sorry I forgot to tell you. Oh! I’m Billy, if you didn’t catch that.”

Uncle Dudley brought two grilled cheeses over to the table, his own sizzling softly on the pan.

“I’ve got a few questions Tim,” Uncle Dudley said as Tim began picking at his food. Tim squirmed in his seat. It was to be expected, really. “You got a place to go?”

Tim shook his head.

“You ran away?”

Tim shrugged.

Dudley contemplated for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched and a slight downward twinge to his lips. Billy was tearing into his sandwich across from him, looking as if he wasn’t paying attention at all. Finally, Dudley sighed.

“You can stay the night,” he said. “But tomorrow we need’ta talk to someone about your situation. That seem fair?”

Tim nodded again. Billy tried to say something through a mouthful of food but stopped after realizing his words were incoherent. He chewed for a few moments before saying, “We could play Mario or do a board game or something. We could also watch the Fantastic Force but I’d rather not ‘cuz I’m really not pleased about Lieutenant awesome dying.”

“Actually, could I just go to bed?” Tim asked softly. Billy deflated a bit. “We can play tomorrow?”

The boy perked up at that, popping out of his seat.

“Okay! That’s okay then!” he said, smiling. “You can take the extra bed in my room. I already had a sleepover yesterday so everything’s set up.”

Billy led the other boy to his room. It was cluttered, posters and pictures covering every square foot of the walls and action figures and books lying on every available surface. Little blue lights were strung across the ceiling. Tim’s bed was a twin sized mattress on the floor with Superman and Wonderwoman themed blankets.

“Thank you,” Tim said seriously, setting Bluejay down and taking off her harness.

“It’s no problem, really,” Billy replied before stepping out of the room. Tim tucked himself into the Wonderwoman and Superman blankets, warmth enveloping him as Bluejay curled up beside him. Snowflakes descended heavily outside the window. Tim’s worrying thoughts and the anxiety swirling in his stomach were washed away by warmth as he fell into rest.

He slipped in and out of sleep. Groggily, he noticed the door open just a crack. Billy was talking to his uncle outside of the room, looking worried.

“I think he’s-”

Tim blinked, and only began listening a few seconds later

“Drake? Batman put out a-”

But Tim was too tired to think. So his eyes drooped downwards, and he fell finally into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

Tim awoke to cold, biting wind on his face as it pierced every layer of his clothes. Panic ripped through him as he realized he couldn’t feel anything solid beneath him except for two arms wrapped around his waist. His eyes shot open, only to take in the sight of the city hundreds of feet below him.

He screamed.

“Woah, woah, woah,” a deep voice exclaimed about him, adjusting his grip. “Don’t freak out! Oh, I knew this was a bad idea. See, I wanted to bring you home during the daytime after you slept and played games and stuff but they really pushy about you going back now” The man rambled on, his deep voice having a strangely youthful melody to it. The friendly midwestern lilt to his words seemed so out of place with the fact that the man had literally kidnapped him.

“Who’s they?” Tim asked, breaths quick. He could hardly focus on anything but how high up they were. The city lights really did look like stars from this far away.

“Oh. Uh. Batman?” the man offered up, sounding hesitant. Tim’s heart thundered. This couldn’t be happening; his plan was perfect. He was going to run away and live in Wisconsin and not have to worry about his parents coming home or nosy neighbors or CPS stealing him ever again and everything would be fine.

And Batman would definitely be mad ‘cause Tim had tased Mr. Grayson. He had tased Nightwing. How had he even known where Tim was in the first place? Jason shouldn’t have caught onto anything for a few days, at least. And even if he did, there’s no way he could have found out he was getting on a train out of Bludhaven that quickly.

And most of all, Tim couldn’t go to foster care. Wrapped up in this strange man’s arms, flying above the city, that’s what scared him the most. Ever since he was little, Mom and Dad told him that awful things that happened to kids in foster care.

“Timothy,” his mother had said, one hand on her suitcase and the other fixing her hair in the mirror. “Remember, even though you’re old enough and capable enough to care care of yourself, other people don’t know that.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Tim had asked. “I can make food and go to school all by myself.”

“Of course,” his mother had replied, smiling. “But if they learn about you doing those things, they’ll call CPS who will take you away from us and put you into foster care.” She leveled her gaze to him. “You don’t want to go to foster care.”

She had said it with so much stern certainty, before whispering stories of dead kids turning up in dark alleys and little children dealing drugs. It terrified him, and he swore to his mother never to say a word.

CPS would take his freedom too. They’d make him go to school and force him to stay inside all day and he’d never be able to-

“Okay!” the man said, sounding stressed. “You’re like, hyperventilating? Maybe stop? Like try to breath normal cause you’re kinda’ sounding really panicked and that kinda’ really scary.”

Tim’s throat felt dry as utter fear gripped him. Calm down? He was hundreds of feet off the ground in the arms of a man bringing him to Batman and-

“Put me down!” he screamed, pushing against the man’s arms with all of his might to no success. His breathing only picked up in speed.

“I can’t!” the man exclaimed, panicked. “I promise I’m bringing you somewhere safe!”

The assurances meant nothing, and Tim kept hitting his tiny fists against the arms of his captor. His vision was dizzy, and he thought he could feel tears streaking down his cheeks as he breathed heavily.

“‘M really sorry about this, Tim,” the man said remorsefully. Tim felt a small pinch on his neck.

And he passed out.

The first thing Tim felt were soft, warm blankets twisting around his arms and cradling his head. Instinctively curling into them, Tim breathed in the flowery smell of newly washed sheets as he began to drift back into sleep.

But, his sheets didn’t smell like flowers. He bought the cheapest detergent he could, and it smelled mostly like soap.

These weren’t his blankets.

He shot up, eyes open and wide.

It was almost too much information to take in at once. He was in a dark room, or cave? Cave. Definitely a cave. Stalactites hung from the ceiling; the top was so high that it disappeared into the shadows. The air was cool and humid. Motorcycles and bikes were parked at the right side of the room, with all sorts of elevated platforms hovering over deep, cold looking water. And on the left-

Tim’s breath hitched.

Batman.

Jason and Nightwing were beside him and the three of them were examining something on the large sprawling computer. His parents faces were on the screen, along with a bunch of words that were too small to read. On one of the screens to the left he saw pictures of the artifacts from their digs. Tim slid out of the covers. Maybe he could make a run for it? Maybe, just maybe, if he was quiet enough, he could get a big enough head start to evade the Bats. He could steal a bike. He could drive one of those… probably. He’d figure it out.

But it was no use, because Jason turned around.

”Tim’s awake!” he exclaimed brightly with a hint of what might have been relief in his tone. Batman and Nightwing whipped around with equal intensity. All of their faces were masked. Tim shrunk into the sheets. Robin and Nightwing both ran over to his bedside, Batman walking close behind them.

”We’ve been worried about you!” Jason exclaimed, waving his arms around as if he wasn’t quite sure where to put them. “Nightwing told me how ya’ tased him. That’s pretty awesome.”

Nightwing elbowed Jason sharply, and the boy let out a soft ‘ow’.

”Can you tell us what happened?” Batman asked, gruffly. “We entered your home to find your room in disarray and any adults absent. We tried to get into contact with your parents in Turkey, but neither them nor their assistant answered.”

Tim’s thoughts raced. He could try to lie, but he doubted that would work. Batman probably already knew the truth about the whole no-nanny thing, and that his parents didn’t have a return flight scheduled for at least a few months. And there really was no believable reason for Timothy Jackson Drake to fight Nightwing and then flee on a train to Wisconsin other than the truth.

“I know your identities,” Tim blurted out. The three vigilantes pulled back in surprise. Tim knew it was a dirty move, but it was his only option. “You’re the Wayne’s and if you try to send me to CPS I’ll tell everyone. They’ll see that stuff lines up, but if you leave me and my parents alone I promise I won’t ever say a word.”

All three voices burst into sound at once.

”Why do you think we’re going to send you to CPS?”

”How did you learn our identities?”

And, “Oh my gosh you didn’t say this kid was a tiny genius.”

All three vigilantes paused, looking at each other as they waited for someone else to start again. The silence stretched for much longer than Tim was comfortable with.

At last, Batman sighed and said, “Okay, one question at a time. Tim, how did you learn about our civilian identities?”

Tim looked at his hands. He figured it was only right to tell them. That way they could make sure it wouldn’t happen again. That and he was a little bit terrified of Batman right now.

”Jason,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. “He asked me about my foot. The one I sprained with the whole Scarecrow thing?” Tim gestured towards his foot that was bound up in a boot, having ditched the crutches for his great (failed) escape. “And he told me that a fall like that could have gotten me a lot more injured, and I knew the only people who about the fall were the Rogues, Mo and Granny Sal, Batman, and Robin. And, y’know. From there it was pretty obvious.”

Nightwing grinned as Jason shrunk into himself, embarrassed.

”So it was Jason who finally gave us away!” Nightwing said cheerfully.

”This is not a good thing,” Batman said gruffly.

”C’mon as if you don’t tell, like, all your evil girlfriends who you are,” Nightwing shot back. Batman said nothing, looking slightly embarrassed. “Now you can stop teasing me about the getting tased thing because this is so much worse,” he continued.

“Nah, I’m gonna keep makin’ fun a’ you for that. You got taken down by a ten-year-old,” Jason replied, smiling as the embarrassed blush on his cheeks began to dissipate. It was a jovial change to the conversation, one that Tim greatly appreciated. However, it left just as quickly as it came.

“So what’s all this about CPS?” Jason asked, pivoting. “Why’d you think we were gonna’ send you there?”

”I’m not stupid,” Tim said, the sharpness in his tone surprising himself. “I know parents aren’t supposed to leave the kids home alone for so long and that they get in trouble for it. I don’t have any living relatives, so if my parents lost custody I’d have to go to foster care. And I don’t want to do that.”

He spat the last sentence out. The Bats were quiet.

“Tim, you wouldn’t have to go to foster care,” Jason said softly. Tim’s breath hitched and met his eyes for the first time. The older boy had peeled off his domino mask and his eyes were filled with concern.

“What?” Tim asked, voice breaking as his eyes began to sting. How would he not have to go to foster care? He knew that Batman didn’t ignore neglect and they’d already made their stance clear about his running away, with the lengths they went to in order to track him down.

“Well,” Nightwing said, casually. “We were thinking that if Tim Drake needed legal guardians, then maybe his neighbors that he already knew and who are a licensed foster home might be a good option.”

Tim looked up at them, eyes wide. Batman smiled softly.

”We were working on a case so that you’d be able to pick whatever option was most comfortable for you, whether that was with us or another family. However, your running away sped up the process,” Bruce said, taking off the cowl.

“Oh,” Tim said softly, and he could feel tears dripping down his cheeks.

”Can I hug you?” Jason asked.

”Please.”

Jason hugged him tightly and Tim tucked his face into the older boy’s shoulder. Relief flooded him as he shook in Jason’s hold. Someone traced circles on his back. These people didn’t just want to put the criminals in jail; they wanted to take care of him. They wanted Tim to be happy. It was a novel idea. In all this time, that thought had never crossed the boy’s mind. With each investigation of the Bats into Tim’s family, the boy had assumed it was so that they’d catch his parents. But no. They wanted him to safe.

“I can stay here?” Tim asked at last as he pulled out of Jason’s arms, wiping his eyes with shaking hands. He needed to hear a clear answer, without any hypotheticals. He needed to know that this was real and not some kind of sick joke. Bruce smiled.

“Yes,” he said simply. Tim burst into tears and launched himself at the man, who was taken by surprise and stumbled back for a moment, before adjusting his hold on the child. Tim shook as Bruce carried him in strong, firm arms.

“Why don’t we go upstairs, hm?” Bruce asked.

Tim hummed softly in agreement.