Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tap tap.

Was the knock supposed to be mocking or a courtesy?

Tim stared at the coarse fibers of the carpet. Had Batman had to pick out the carpet for the Batmobile’s backseat? Or had it come standard? A somewhat delirious thought, but Tim figured he had the right to let his mind wander.

Since his life was over, and all.

The door opened, and Robin—Jason Todd—leaned in.

“Hey, kid.”

Tim didn’t look up.

“Kid.”

No response. What was the point?

“Stray. Hey, time to get out of the car now.”

At that, Tim slowly raised his head. Stray? He wasn’t going to be Stray much longer after this, if he even still was able to call himself that.

Tim considered being petulant and refusing to budge, but resistance was futile at this point. He couldn’t win a physical struggle against Jason—obviously—and trying would just drive home how much weaker he was.

Tim wordlessly slid from the middle seat to the door and swung his legs out. Jason took him by the arm and helped him out. He kept his hold on Tim’s bicep even after Tim was steady on his feet.

Fair. Tim was weaker than Jason, but he was more flexible and agile. He’d nearly gotten away a few times before Batman and Robin were able to slap the handcuffs on him and toss him in the backseat of the Batmobile.

Jason led him to the Batcomputer—which a distracted part of Tim’s brain had to admit was cool—and spun the chair to face them.

“Okay, sit.” Jason pointed to the chair like Tim might get confused and climb the giant dinosaur to sit on instead.

It was clear that Jason was going to restrain him. Still, what was the point of fighting? Jason was going to get him in that chair whether Tim behaved or not. Batman had taken each and every one of Tim’s weapons and lockpicks, and he was handcuffed to boot. What did it matter if he was slightly more tied up than he already was?

Tim slumped into the chair and watched glumly as Jason retrieved a second set of handcuffs from one of his belt pockets.

Tim blinked quickly to keep his stinging eyes dry as Jason closed one end of the cuffs around Tim’s left wrist and attached the other end to the left arm of the chair. Once Tim was secure, Jason unlocked the first set of cuffs that kept Tim’s hands securely behind his back. At first, Tim was hopeful that Jason would be content with restraining just one of Tim’s hands.

If he could easily escape, he could snag something—maybe a tooth from that stupid dinosaur or one of Batman’s utility belts. He could tell Selina that it was all an elaborate ruse to get access to the Batcave and all the loot inside, and maybe she would still let him stick around.

Of course his freedom was lost as soon as it was gained. Jason just adjusted the cuff and put it back over Tim’s right wrist and tightened the other end around the right arm of the chair. Humiliatingly, Jason then grabbed the back of the chair and wheeled him into the center of the room, well away from anything he could grab as a tool.

“No offense, kid,” Jason said.

No offense? No offense? Jason and Mr. Wayne had just ruined his life. Selina had told him if he ever got hurt, it was over and she’d make him stop.

He understood, of course. His mom was dead, his dad was still in a coma, and Selina’s custody of him was legally tenuous at best. She’d paid the right bribes that the CPP let her keep him for now, but he knew that as soon as he was more trouble than he was worth, she’d let him go. If he started showing up with bruises and broken bones, it would look bad for her. She’d be cast out of Gotham’s polite society, and her access to valuables would suddenly get so much trickier all because of him.

No, it would be so much easier for her to send him to foster care now that he’d proved how useless and pathetic he was. She wouldn’t want him anymore, and he didn’t blame her.

“You want a drink, Stray?” Jason asked, all fake polite. “We’ve got water, coffee, Gatorade—”

“No,” Tim snapped, but the frustration and dread and grief was too much. The second he took his concentration off keeping his eyes dry, the tears he’d been hiding started dripping, hot and humiliating, down his cheeks.

Jason had the unmitigated gall to look surprised. “Whoa, Stray, what’s wrong? Crap, we’re not going to hurt you or—”

“Shut up,” Tim hissed.

“Really, we’re just—”

“SHUT UP!”

“Don’t be rude to Jason.”

Tim’s blood froze, and he turned in horror to look over his shoulder.

His stomach sank.

Selina strutted down the stone stairs in her five-inch heels like she owned the place. How was she already here? He thought he’d get at least twenty minutes to figure out a goodbye before she showed up.

Mr. Wayne must have called her. After all, she was his girlfriend. Jason being her billionaire boyfriend’s son, no wonder she didn’t want him ruffling Jason’s feathers in the last five minute of his career as Stray, especially since Mr. Wayne was following right behind her.

Tim blinked quickly and brushed his cheeks on his shoulders to try to dry the stupid tears still running down his face. Unfortunately, leather is notably unabsorbant, and Tim’s whole costume was made of it. All he managed to do was smear the mess around his face a bit.

Tim gave up and slumped in his chair, resigned to his fate with all the grace of a depressed seagull.

He didn’t hear Selina approach till she leaned on the back of his chair, tilting it back so he could look at her. Tim didn’t look at her, but he could have if he wasn’t hiding.

Selina tutted and pet his hair. Tim wished he didn’t crave her small affections like this so much, but he did, and he was going to miss this once it was all over.

“Bruce, have you been mean to my kitten?” Selina draped her arms over the back of the chair and loosely hugged Tim.

Mr. Wayne was stone face. “He has lackluster combat skills at best.”

“Tim is not supposed to be fighting anyone,” Selina countered.

Tim wanted to protest that he hadn’t started a fight with anyone. The Bats had gone after him while he was just minding his own business and robbing someone else’s.

“He wasn’t the only one in the jewelry store, Selina.” Mr. Wayne crossed his arms. “If we hadn’t taken care of the other thieves, they would have gotten Tim. He would have been beaten, killed, or kidnapped for a ransom. He could have gotten both of your identities exposed. Jason overpowered him within seconds.”

“So what are you saying?” Selina hugged Tim a little tighter, but Tim could feel the dread building and building. Why was everyone dancing around the inevitable? It was over, he was done. He understood!

“He shouldn’t be on the streets if he can’t fight.”

Selina paused, and in that pause, a ridiculous hope bloomed in his chest, swelling until—

“You’re right,” Selina agreed.

Tim couldn’t help the small, broken, “Selina?”

Selina kissed the top of his head. “Tim can come home with Jason after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you can handle the rest.”

Tim and Jason both jolted at that. “Huh!?”

She wasn’t abandoning him? That’s what that meant, right? She didn’t hate him?

“He goes to my school?!” Jason yelped.

Did…did Jason not know? Had no one told Jason that everyone else in the room knew exactly who every other person was?

Selina spun the chair so Tim faced only her, then she pushed back his cowl and cupped his chin in her soft hands. He could smell her jasmine perfume, a scent he associated with safety and comfort. Tim relaxed into her soft touch as she brushed away his tears and planted a gentle kiss right on his forehead, leaving a swatch of lip gloss on his face.

“Ta-da!” Selina spun Tim back around to face Jason.

Jason’s jaw dropped, his eyes big as saucers. “You’re that nerdy kid in biology!”

Mr. Wayne completely ignored Jason’s mini-existential crisis and moved on. “He can’t improve enough with two days a week. Monday, Wednesday, Friday.”

“Hmm.” Selina frowned. “We have movie nights on Wednesday. Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday. Does that work for you?”

“I’m amenable.”

“Do I get a say?” Tim yelped.

Selina raised an eyebrow. “My kitten got caught by a bird, Timmy. He’s right, you need to sharpen your claws.”

Tim wanted to say he could just start carrying a machete, but Mr. Wayne would probably throw him in Arkham for that.

“Will I…” Tim bit his tongue. Pushing his luck right now was a stupid idea. Selina raised an eyebrow when he cut off, so he reluctantly finished the thought. “Can I still go out? With you?”

Selina patted his cheek. “Of course, kitten.”

Relief rushed him, and he couldn’t hide a smile even as Mr. Wayne begrudgingly said nothing. He was still Stray. He was still hers.

“Okay, up now.” Selina blew a kiss to Mr. Wayne and turned to strut up the stairs. “We have places to go, cats to pet, ice cream to eat.”

Tim was about to remind her that he was still handcuffed to the chair, but when he looked down, he realized his handcuffs had been picked and fell away loosely.

Tim stood up, glancing behind him to make sure he wasn’t about to get jumped. Jason still looked gob smacked, and Mr. Wayne was unreadable, but neither of them tried to stop Tim. Even when he pocketed the handcuffs as a souvenir, they said nothing.

Tim stopped short of asking for his lockpicks back. It wasn’t worth poking the bear, and besides, he’d apparently be getting the chance to snoop through their stuff three times a week.

Tim ran after Selina, up the stairs and out of the Batcave into Wayne Manor. As the relief sank in, realizations came with it that turned his stress to borderline terminal levels of fanboy glee.

Batman was going to teach him how to fight. He was going to get to hang out with Robin and probably Nightwing—the real, actual Nightwing!—and if he was around them, that meant they couldn’t stop him from asking ten million questions about absolutely everything to do with anything, and if he asked them ten million questions, they’d probably answer at least a few just to shut him up.

Tim tried to contain his excitement at how quickly his fortune had changed. He ducked forward and risked leaning against Selina’s car as Mr. Pennyworth, the butler, opened the front door for them. Selina didn’t hesitate to put an arm around Tim’s shoulders and lean her head on his.

Tim sighed happily as he climbed into the passenger seat. Today had been a good day after all.

Batman was stuck with him.

Robin knew who he was.

Even after failing miserably, he was going home with his mom his best friend, and she still wanted him.

Yeah. A good day.