Chapter Text
Tim hadn’t been lying, per se, he had simply been omitting the truth.
After all, there hadn’t really been a good time to just come out and say, hey, my real name isn’t actually Timothy Jackson Drake! When Tim had first become Robin, Bruce was too grief stricken and angry to even consider telling him. Then there were new family members piling in as Jason returned. Tim was already dodging Damian’s murder attempts, he didn’t have time to even think of how he would approach them with all of this. Then Bruce ‘died’ and he had to run off and get him back, losing the mantle of Robin in the process.
But here they were, things finally calming down after Duke joined the family. Of course, there were still the occasional Arkham breakouts, but they had become few and far between. Gotham itself had gotten better, even if just a smidge.
So here he was, about to sit his family down and explain. Well, explain the basics. No need to bring up the killer phantoms, no siree. Anyway, his friends from before —before Timothy Drake— had talked him into it. They wanted to come and all visit him instead of him leaving to go see them like usual. Staying in the nest could have been an option, though cramped, but they all agreed it was time for Tim to ‘come clean’ to his new family. They might have also wanted to finally see the manor.
Either way, he was doing this. Tim had already called the family meeting and they were all waiting for him in the parlor.
Despite this, despite how long Tim has had to think of how he could go about this, making his own contingencies for all sorts of reactions, his hands still shook. Tim cursed himself quietly. Why was he reacting like this? He’s been shot, his throat slit, his spleen removed, hell, he has died before! Yet this scares him so much more than he ever thought it would.
Tim dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. He paused when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It buzzed again as he took it from his pocket.
A small smile crept onto Tim’s face as he scanned the screen. Messages of his friend’s reassurances flooded his notifications. He skimmed them all before tapping on a particular message, bringing the whole text conversation up, though only focusing on the most recent response.
Ashlyn
You’ll do great
Short and simple, but Tim felt the tension in his body ease just a bit. Taking a final grounding breath, he went to join his family in the parlor.
Tim had always been an odd kid, at least in Bruce’s eyes.
Of course, all his children were ‘odd’ in some way or another, but he didn’t love them any less. Tim is dedicated, he’s intelligent, and he’s extremely observant, but something had always prickled in the back of Bruce’s mind, even if he didn’t always realize it. (Though signs of a past involved with something were there. The attentiveness, the strategy skills, and his pre-existing combat capabilities. Perhaps it was easier to just utilize the skills and to ignore their origins. Easier for Bruce, at least, during the time Tim first became Robin.)
When Tim had first called the family meeting for later in the day, Bruce had been confused. His boy didn’t have many major cases —the biggest one being a string of robberies— so it likely wasn't about anything regarding their night time activities. There was also the fact that Tim requested everyone to meet in the manor, where Alfred had forbidden any vigilante work to be discussed.
So, what could this be about? Tim had already come out as bisexual, so it couldn't be that… Bruce tried to interrupt his own pondering by turning his attention to his other children, along with Barbara, Stephanie, and Alfred, who stood to the side. They all seemed to be contemplating the same things as him as most sat on the various chairs and couches in the room. Their heads all snapped in Tim’s direction when he finally entered the room.
“Alright Timbers, we’re all here. Now what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jason was, unsurprisingly, the first to speak. He himself was leaning against a wall, arms crossed.
Several affirmations were made by others in the room as Tim quickly found a chair and sat down. Bruce frowned slightly when he saw that Tim’s hands were ever so slightly shaking. Glancing at Cass, Bruce saw her own eyebrows scrunched in concern.
“This had better be important, Drake. I was meant to meet with Jon this afternoon.” Damian looked to be especially annoyed at being pulled away from his friend for what he might deem as trivial.
Dick just chuckled at his younger brother before announcing, “Well, we should hurry up then! Don’t want to keep Dami from his playdate for too long.” Damian’s squawk could be heard over the chuckling that swept through the room, but everyone quickly quieted when Bruce cleared his throat.
Taking a deep breath and sitting forward, his elbows now resting on his knees, Tim blurted out: “My birth name isn’t Tim Drake.”
It was like the room was hit with one of Mr. Freeze’s blasts. No one moved, no one seemed to breathe. It was a few moments before the room erupted with noise.
“WHAT?!”
“Wait-!“
“You cannot be serious-“
“This is not a funny joke, Drake!”
With wide eyes, Bruce held up a hand, silencing the exclamations. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw their shocked faces, even Alfred, who could normally keep his composure well.
“What do you mean, Tim? Or-“ Bruce’s sentence sputtered out; he was unsure of what to say, unsure of what to even call his son. He had known him as Tim for years, shouldn’t it make sense to keep calling him that? If Tim isn’t his birth name, then what is? Should he call him by this new name, whatever it is?
“The Drake’s were friends of my bio parents,” he started. Everyone seemed to subconsciously lean forward, eyes glued to Tim, who was only looking at the ground. “Some shady stuff happened, so my parents thought I would be safer with their friends. The Drake’s changed my name and paraded me around as their ‘perfect’ son who had been away at boarding school. You guys are my second foster family.” Tim finally looked up, body tense and face unreadable, or at least unreadable to Bruce.
His mouth felt dry, and it was one of the few times where Bruce didn’t know what to say or do. Comfort? Question?
Fortunately for him, Alfred regained his composure faster. “May I ask what your birth name was? And would you prefer to be called such?”
Alfred’s calm voice seemed to ease the tension visible in Tim, and he responded, “My name was Aiden. I would like to still be called Tim by you all. That's what you guys have always called me anyway, there’s no need to change that.”
Bruce tried to give his son a reassuring smile, “What was your last name?”
At this, Tim laughed. “If I were to tell you all, Demon Brat over there would never call me anything different.” His laughter seemed to help the remaining tension in the room bleed out as the other people present began to laugh alongside him.
There were a few remarks like:
“Dude, that’s crazy!”
And
“Dang, kid. Always full of surprises.”
Damian appeared offended by Tim’s reasoning but instead said: “Why now? You have been with this family for years, so why tell us all now?”
The room quieted down again and Tim grasped the back of his neck with his right hand, almost sheepishly replying, “Well, I still have some friends from before and they wanted to come visit. It would have been hard to explain random people staying in the manor and calling me Aiden, huh? I mean, it would be nice if they could stay in the manor when they come.” Tim rushed the last part out, likely remembering that he would need permission for unknown civilians to stay in said manor.
Bruce couldn’t stop the hurt expression that covered his face, even though he quickly tried to conceal it. That was the only reason Tim told them? Would they ever have known otherwise?
Again, fortunately someone else spoke his thoughts. “Were you planning to just never tell us? Baby bird…” Dick couldn’t disguise the hurt in his voice.
Flinching at the tone, Tim tried to defend himself, “The whole thing really isn’t important. I’m Tim now, the only ties I have back to my life as Aiden are my friends.”
“Of course it’s important Tim, it’s your life.” Bruce protested. Nods of agreement swept the room.
Tim froze for a moment but recovered quickly.
“How about I go make some refreshments for us to enjoy as we talk more about when our guests will be arriving?” Alfred suggested in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Oh, oh! Hot coco please!” Steph jumped up, waving an arm in the air and almost smacking Duke in the face.
Jason smiled, “Hot chocolate is always good. Can I help whip some up, Alfred?" The older man quickly agreed and the two left in the direction of the kitchen.
While they were gone, Bruce watched as Stephanie grilled into Tim for hiding such a thing. His other children butted in to add their own two cents about the reveal and by the end, Tim looked thoroughly chastised.
Jason and Alfred came back with two trays of steaming hot chocolate and laid them down on the coffee table in the center of their circle of chairs and couches.
Once everyone had their respective drink, Tim began, “There’s five of them-“
“Ooo, who knew you could make so many civilian friends?”
“-oh shut it, Jason; as I was saying there’s five of them. There’s the twins, Taylor and Tyler. Then there’s Logan, who I think would get along with Jason, book-wise at least. My cousin Ben,-“
“You have a cousin? Where is he?” Interrupted Barbara.
Tim steamrolled right through her questions, “-he’s mute, and often communicates through sign language. And then there is Ashlyn. She likes ballet, so you might like her, Cass.”
Alfred nodded along. “When should we expect them? How many rooms should I prepare?” He questioned.
“Well, we had been thinking about the 23rd, and really, just my room is fine. We often have sleepovers.” Tim informed him.
Eyebrows shot up around the room. Most seemed to be thinking something along the lines of, Tim trusts these people that much? Alfred, however, remained as impassive as ever and only gave a curt nod.
Cass’ attention remained on Tim, even as a soft smile spread across her face. “They are important to you.” She stated simply. Tim only gave her a small grin in response.