Chapter Text
Tim's first real memory was one of abandonment.
Tim was 3 or 4, who knows, and his parents had come home from a business trip for the annual Gotham Elite Golf Tournament Fundraiser. It was meant to be a opportunity for the Gotham elite to give their money to charity's and those in need, but it was really just a day for all of Gothams snootious idiots to talk about how many vacation homes they own and try to one-up each other in golf.
Which by the way, Tim thought was the most boring game ever.
This was the first year Tim would be allowed to go with his parents to any sort of social event and he was ecstatic! His would get to be with his Mother and Father all day! They promised to even buy him ice cream if he was good!
Tim was still to young to know that this was just yet another of their cavern of empty promises.
Janet had dressed Tim in a small polo shirt, with khaki shorts. While she herself was dressed in a flowy light blue sundress that showed off her body in all the perfect ways. She had been standing infront of a mirror for 30 minutes fixing her hair and makeup. Tim didn't understand why, he thought his mommy was beautiful.
"Now Timothy, we expect you to behave and be quiet unless spoken too. This is a very important day and we can not afford for you to screw it up, do you understand?" Jack was staring at Tim so intensely. Tim wanted nothing more then to make his mother and father proud, maybe they would stay home longer if he did!
"Yes father." Tim replied. He was determind to be a good boy today.
The Drakes piled into their limo and started the journey towards the Gotham city golf course.
Tim was itchy. The collar of his shirt was rubbing against his neck and it was uncomfortable. He picked at on the drive over before his hand was slapped away by his mother.
"Timothy Drake, we do not fidget in public. We do not fidget at all! Now quit picking at your clothes and sit still like a good boy." She then turned to Jack, "Honestly dear, I think we should have waited another year before bringing him. Look at him, he is acting like a baboon!"
She looked flabbergasted and Tim still didn't quite understand what he had done wrong. He knew better then to ask so he just sat still. Like a good boy.
When they had arrived Tim was ushered put of the vehicle and Janet grabbed his hand. She was squeezing a bit to hard but Tim didn't mind because he got to hold his mommy's hand. She never aloud him to hold onto her in public.
They greeted people, walked around the course, and made their way to the chairs and stands on the side of the course. It was all a little loud and crowded for Tim's liking but he once again kept that thought to himself as to not anger his parents.
All the woman and their kids sat on the side watching as thier husbands played golf and shared drinks. Tim did as he was told and that was sit silently but he was really hot, itchy, and had to pee. The afternoon sun was blazing down on them and despite being in the shade Tim was sweating in his polo. The collar was rubbing against his skin in a way that rattled his brain and made his want to tare his skin off. His shorts were itchy and sticking to his legs from the sweat. Worst of all, his bladder was full but he was too nervous to disturb the peace to tell his mama he needed to go. She would definitely be angry with Tim, she was talking to her 'friends' and wasn't Tim's servant. He would show her he was responsible and he would wait.
Waiting had been a mistake.
It was becoming to much, he was officially about to pee his pants and if he did his parents would never be proud of him, they wouldn't stay, they wouldn't hug or kiss him. Not that they did those now.
Tim hesitantly called out for his mother "Mother?"
Janet turned to Tim, a annoyed look on her face. "Yes Timothy? What is it?"
"Mother I have to use the restroom."
His mother rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Can you not wait until we are home? We have not even been here 2 hours Timothy."
Wonderful, she was already tired of Tim.
"Mother I'm sorry but I have been holding it and now I really have to-" Tim was cut off by his mother grabbing his wrist rather painfully, her nails were digging into his tiny arms.
"Timothy why must you always be so dependant. Your father and I can not even turn our heads without you whining like a child." His mother scolded him.
The bathroom was so far away and Tim had to go really bad. He was trying to hold it but the fast pace and the walking made him have to pee more. Tim much to his horror didn't make it to the bathroom in time.
Tim felt the moment it had happened and his mother gasped in horror when she saw. She dragged him around the corner of the nearest building and looked at him with disgust.
"Timothy Jackson Drake you are not a animal! You better hope no one saw you or you will be sorry young man! Do you understand the embarrassment that would be put on the Drake name if anyone found out that you were peeing your pants like a hound on a fire hydrant! Honestly Timothy I'm disgusted and disappointed."
Tim was trying very hard not to cry, his mother was yelling at him and he knew that once his father found out, it would only get worse.
"Mama I'm sor-"
"No! You do not get to speak. I want you to sit here and not move until me and your father find you when it time to go home, do you understand? I want no one to see you, or hear you and if I see you come out of this spot before we tell you too you will be punished severely!"
Then she walked away leaving little Tim to cry in self pity as he sat on the grass hidden behind a building.
Mother and father seemed determind to finish the day at the golf course, Tim only knew this because it had been 2 more hours since he had been sat here. The afternoon heat had only increased and Tim didn't have shade where he was sitting. But he didn't dare move from this spot where his mother had left him. He had already made a mistake and he would stick with the punishment.
The wetness in his pants from his lack of bladder control was making him the most uncomfortable he had ever been. Tim was sure to have rashes from the sweat and dirt and pee for the next few weeks. His skin was red by his neck from the constant chafing of his polo shirt and his face was dry and uncomfortable due to the tears he had shed 2 hours ago.
But Tim stayed in his spot.
Until it was getting dark and their was no noise coming from the fields. He stayed their until he heard wolves howling and the cleaning crew start to pack up. He stayed even as he was so thirsty from not drinking water in the heat all day, and needing to use the washroom again. He stayed even though his stomach was aching from hunger.
He stayed until a worker who was cleaning up from the tournament walked around the building for a smoke brake found little 4 year old Timothy Drake hidden in the shadows.
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That was much like 16 year old Tim. Hidden in shadows of the room he had been locked into. Nursing the new round of bruises and scrapes and aching bones he had recieved from his parents anger.
He huddled on his bed in the house that had never felt like home. He wore a sweater he had stolen from Dick, his flash themed pajama pants were from Dukes drawers. In his arms was a small rabbit with a Batman outfit that had been won for him at a Carnival by Barbara. Every night before sleep he would think about the way Steph laughed, Damian's small smirks and backhanded compliments that Tim loves. He would think of the way Cass was silent but not a bad silent. Cass was only type of silent that Tim could love. He thought of Bruce's warm words and Alfred's even warmer and welcoming smile.
Tim huddled under the blanket and sobbed as he realized that Dicks hoodie no longer smelled like him. Like home.
He sobbed because much like the smell of Dicks hoodie fading, the hope inside Tim was fading as well.