Chapter Text
The string of events that would eventually lead to Tim’s downfall started simply enough.
Firstly, he overslept. Not the end of the world, by any stretch. He’d become pretty much nocturnal as soon as school ended in June. The problem was he had kinda forgot when school started again? So he missed the first week of classes in September? Thankfully, his parents swept in with a lie about him being with them on a trip to excavate ruins in Istanbul, so the teachers got off his back. But when he started showing up late for school daily and falling asleep in classes… that earned him an angry phone call from his parents and his allowance being cut off.
That was fine. He didn’t need his credit card, anyway. He had cash.
Secondly, the Joker was out of Arkham again. (This helped Tim to get to school on time more often since he did not want to be wandering Gotham’s streets while the murderous clown was loose.) Everyone knew that taxis became next to impossible to get when the Joker was loose. No one wanted to walk anywhere, and the cab drivers were, understandably, reluctant to pick anyone up if they hadn’t booked ahead. Even when Tim did book ahead, they took one look at him and decided he was a trap before fleeing.
Strike two.
And finally, the actress Penelope Rivera broke up with her boyfriend, heartthrob Justin Whatshisface. (Tim hadn’t known who these people were before their actions started ruining his life.) Penelope and Justin were supposed to be promoting a movie together, but now they couldn’t stand to be in the same room according to US Weekly, so their appearance at the Gotham Comic Con was cancelled. The organizers must have had Hollywood friends, because their panel was being replaced by Kenji Kobayashi, cinematographer turned horror movie director turned documentarian who had done Tim’s favourite Zodiac Killer biopic.
Tim had to go.
But he had no credit card to buy the tickets with.
And he couldn’t afford to miss any more school.
AND the panel was specified on the Gotham Comic Con website as being only for those aged eighteen and up without the presence of a parent or guardian.
For the first time ever, Tim needed an adult.
Even if he begged, there was no way he could convince Mrs. Mac to take him. She’d seen him watching true crime before and only tried to convince him he’d be better off watching something less violent. “But the world is violent!” Tim had cried.
“You’re nine. You’re not supposed to know that yet,” she said.
“This is Gotham!”
“This is Bristol! Now, I’ll not have another word of it. Close your laptop, Tim, and help me wash these floors. These old knees aren’t what they used to be.”
No, Mrs. Mac wasn’t an option. He’d always planned to hire an actor if there was ever something that he needed an adult for. But, again, no money. The talent agency he found online wouldn’t take cash, even when he emailed customer support to beg. Could he convince one of his teachers? Probably not, he thought. They were either too strict, too caring or too creepy, all of which would ask too many questions.
If only there was some other adult in his life he could ask. This was Kenji Kobayashi. The only person Tim looked up to more was Batman himself!
Tim stilled, then grinned, a plan forming.
*
Tim came prepared with his laptop and a collection of photos. The originals were safely hidden at home, as well as three other backups stashed in his house. He debated keeping his stuff in a briefcase rather than his backpack, but he wanted to be more incognito. A child holding a briefcase would draw too much attention.
So, with one hand on his backpack strap, Tim stood staring at the gates to Wayne Manor. He took a deep breath and pushed the button on the intercom.
After a beep and a brief silence… “Wayne residence.” That was Alfred Pennyworth, also known as the infamous Agent A. Tim had to stop himself from fanboying.
Tim swallowed and tried to remember his plan. “Umm, hi. I’m Tim from next door. Can I talk to Mr. Wayne? It’s urgent.”
“Are you alright?” Oh no, he sounded worried.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just really have to talk to him.”
There was a pause, and Tim was sure that he was about to be locked out forever. Then the intercom buzzed and the gate swung open.
Hacker voice: I’m in, Tim thought with a giggle.
He made it to the front door. It opened before he could knock and there stood Mr. Pennyworth.
“Hello, Mr. Drake,” Mr. Pennyworth said.
“Hello, Mr. Pennyworth,” Tim said back.
“I’m afraid Master Bruce and young Master Jason are currently out. I can call them back sooner, if necessary. Why don’t I make some tea for us and you can tell me about your urgent issue while we wait?”
Tim considered this. He had been planning on speaking to Mr. Wayne directly. He didn’t have a backup plan, but he really only needed someone who could drive him and sign him out of school. Maybe he should start with Alfred instead?
“That would be acceptable,” Tim nodded. He preferred coffee over tea, but he didn’t want to push his luck too far. Too many adults looked at him strangely when he tried to order coffee at the 24hr Starbucks near GothamU late at night.
“Excellent. If you would follow me.”
Alfred led him to the kitchen. Tim pulled up a chair and Alfred put some cookies in the oven. “Just to warm them up,” he said. Tim, meanwhile, pulled his laptop from his bag and pulled up his powerpoint, as well as a physical file folder with Evidence written on the tab. Alfred pulled the cookies out as he finished the tea and served them together. “What’s all this?” Alfred asked at Tim’s set up as he sat down to sip his own tea.
“Almost done,” Tim said, as he entered presentation mode. The title card appeared with the words, Hello! I am blackmailing you! A presentation by Tim Drake.
Alfred coughed and Tim looked up to see him setting down his teacup. “I see,” he said.
The first few slides explained that he knew that Mr. Wayne was Batman, Dick Grayson was Nightwing, and Jason Todd was the second Robin. He outlined their regular patrol routes and a timeline of the injuries of each. “Of course, I’ve known for a while now, so you don’t have to worry about me being trustworthy. I know how to keep a secret,” Tim clarified.
“You mean, aside from the fact that you are blackmailing us?”
“Yeah.”
“I see. May I ask how you got these pictures?”
Tim didn’t have slides for that question, but he quickly explained that he got a camera for his birthday last year.
“I’m sorry, correct me if I misunderstood, but you took those photos?” Alfred asked, for some reason. Tim realized he should have been clearer, so he exited presentation mode and pulled up his camera and its specs on Amazon. Then he grabbed his file folder labelled Evidence and showed Alfred his favourites.
After a fifteen-minute tangent on how he got his photos, including his favourite skyscrapers for taking photos on, the intricacies of night photography and his love/hate relationship with Gotham’s smog, Tim realised he got off topic. He coughed. “But enough about that. You don’t want to hear about that.”
“No, no. It’s quite fascinating,” Alfred said.
“Really?” Tim straightened.
“But of course. You are quite the young talent, Mr. Drake. I don’t know much about photography, but I daresay these look exceptional.”
Tim blushed to his hairline. No one had ever thought his little photography hobby was fascinating before, or that he was exceptional. Unsure what to do with his sudden emotions, Tim tried to bring the topic back to his presentation. He pulled up powerpoint once again and switched to the next slide. This one read, What I need from you.
“So, as you may or may not be aware, next Friday is the Gotham Comic Con. Since my parents are out of town, I need someone to call the school to excuse my absence, drive me there, and come with me to the Kenji Kobayashi panel.”
Alfred squinted at the screen. “Who is Kenji Kobayashi?” he asked, so Tim had to go on another tangent to explain who he was and why he was awesome.
“He’s probably the greatest detective in the whole world, besides Batman. But Batman has resources that most people don’t and Kenji is just a normal guy, so it’s not really a fair comparison. Plus, Kenji’s, like, an amazing cinematographer. If I could grow up to be just like Kenji, then I would!” Tim fell back in his chair just to jump up again. “Did you see the Reopened Cold Case Files on Netflix? He did that! He inspired all these police departments to reopen cold cases and they’re getting solved! He’s like the superstar of true crime.” Tim couldn’t remember the last time he talked so much. His throat was getting sore from it. He reached for his tea only to find it had gone cold. He’d barely had time to make a disappointed face before Alfred was swooping in with a fresh cup.
“I suppose there is nothing for it,” Alfred said with a sigh and a small smile. “You have bent my arm. I simply must take you to this Comic Con.”
“Really?! I can go?” Then, Tim remembered he’d just blackmailed Alfred into it, he forced himself to remain calm. “I mean, of course. Um, are you going to tell Batman?”
There was a pause. After a moment, Alfred said, “I see no reason to. He would only worry. And, as you said, you can keep a secret. That said,” Alfred reached for the file folder, “May I keep these? I’d like to get them framed.”
Tim beamed.
*
Alfred had arranged ahead with the school excuse him the next Friday. (Tim had zero idea how, since he wasn’t listed on Tim’s files as one of Tim’s contacts.) Still, on Friday at nine o’clock precisely, Alfred pulled up the Drake Manor driveway to pick him up.
Alfred let Tim ride in the front seat as Tim flipped through the Con schedule he’d printed out. He’d even used the printer he used for printing his photos so it was on extra good quality paper.
“The panel doesn’t start until two o’clock, so we have some time to kill,” Tim said.
“I checked online, and it appears that the Justice League has an official merchandiser at this event,” Alfred said.
“Are you going to get Batman stuff?” Tim asked.
“Perhaps. I know that Master Jason is partial to Wonder Woman.”
It took them a long time to find parking, and then they had to stand in line for the entrance. Alfred must have forgotten Tim wasn’t Jason, because he held Tim’s hand. Tim decided not to correct him, intent instead on telling Alfred about the different actors that they could meet. Tim talked for so long that he didn’t even notice when they made it to the front of the line.
They spent the morning wandering around to the different exhibits. Tim got a picture of Alfred brandishing his fists next to a poster of a giant slug monster. There was a booth selling swords that Alfred turned his nose up at. He dragged Tim away. “I did not come here to buy you weapons, Tim.”
“But they’re so shiny!” Tim argued.
“You wouldn’t be able to hold any of those, much less actually wield one.”
They did, eventually, find the Justice League booth and Alfred, to Tim’s surprise, gladly purchased one of every Batman and Wonder Woman item they had, as well as a few Superman items.
Loaded down with purchases, the pair stopped for lunch where Alfred showed Tim how to use chopsticks properly.
Tim was so happy and having so much fun, he was surprised when Alfred pointed out the time.
“Oh no! We have to go now!”
“It doesn’t start for forty-five minutes,” Alfred said.
“But we need to get in line for good seats!”
Tim dragged Alfred who dragged all his bags of Justice League merch to Auditorium B.
The ushers—who barely looked above eighteen themselves--raised an eyebrow at Tim and Alfred entering the event. “You know that this is an 18+ event right? Some of the images are fairly graphic.”
Alfred considered him. “Graphic how?”
The usher shrugged. “Our boss said nothing sexual, but like pictures of violence and crime scenes and blood and stuff. It shows clips from some of his documentaries.”
“Alfred! I’ve already seen them. Please!” Tim whined and bounced on the balls of his feet. He couldn’t turn back now! They were almost there! Don’t tell him he blackmailed Batman for nothing!
“Oh, dear me, a child exposed to violence and crime.” Alfred sighed. “Oh well. That’ll be his father’s problem. Come along, Tim.”
“Yes!” Tim hissed. He followed Alfred into the Auditorium then quickly started pulling him to the front row.
*
The announcer came on and said a few words, and then there he was walking out from the back onto the stage. Kenji Kobayashi.
Tim spent the entire panel sitting at the edge of his seat. Alfred put a hand on his knee to keep it for bouncing, and Tim got the message. Still, he could hardly sit still. He was so glad they were in the front row so he could see everything so clearly.
Kenji Kobayashi was a splendid speaker, charming and straight to the point. The focus of the panel was on his latest documentary coming out on Halloween, but he took the last case he worked on as a case study, explaining all the people he talked to and the process of going to different police departments to look through their evidence lockers and crime scene photos. “After the second or third cold case I investigated, I became very good at spotting where the police might have made errors,” he explained in his softly accented English. On the screen behind him was a photo of a crime scene. “For example, in this picture, you can see that some of the items on the dresser have disappeared, despite them being in earlier photos of the scene.”
Tim gasped. Police interference! He clutched Alfred’s hand to keep himself still.
Later, after the presentation, Kenji Kobayashi opened the floor up to questions. There were a lot of young women in the audience asking detailed questions about serial killers. Kenji was shockingly knowledgeable about even the obscure ones. Tim made a mental note to look up some of the names mentioned later.
Tim put his hand up as high as it would go. Mercifully, one off the student assistants brought him a microphone. “Hi, I’m Tim,” Tim managed. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “In the latest Netflix series inspired by your work with cold cases, many of the forensic investigators don’t account for differences in film quality…” Tim began. He had practiced his whole preamble to make sure that he got to ask his whole question because he only got one chance at a question.
“So my question is, could it not have been the case that the photographs did not disintegrate naturally due to poor conditions but were destroyed by knowingly placing them in sub-par conditions?”
Kenji opened his mouth, closed it, pulled a little notebook from his breast pocket and made a note. “That is a very good observation. I’ll have to look into it further. I wish I had a proper answer for you now, but I can tell you…”
*
By the time Alfred and Tim returned to Mr. Wayne’s car, Tim was exhausted but happy. He couldn’t speak anymore because his throat hurt so bad. He clutched a signed copy of Kenji Kobayashi’s latest book and a signed photo of him and Kenji together. He sat in the front seat while Alfred put all their purchases in the trunk. Alfred returned to the front seat and was putting the key in when Tim spoke up.
“Mr. Pennyworth?” he said.
“Yes, Mr. Drake?”
“This is the best day of my life. Thank you,” he said. He closed his eyes to the sound of Mr. Pennyworth’s chuckles and fell asleep.
*
When he woke up, he wasn’t in the car but in a bedroom he did not recognise. The sun was low in the sky, so it was either very early or very late. He got up and wandered to the hall, where he found Mr. Pennyworth walking. “Oh good,” he said, “I was just coming to get you for dinner.”
Oh, Tim realised he must have fallen asleep. Now Mr. Pennyworth had to cook for him too?! “That’s okay! I can just go home. I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Pennyworth said. “It’s not a bother. After such a full day, we’ve got enough takeout for everyone.”
Before Tim could object, Mr. Pennyworth ushered him into a dining room with—oh god—Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Bruce Wayne all together.
“Timmy!” Dick shouted.
“Hey, Timbo,” Jason said.
Bruce grunted invitingly.
Oh no, Tim thought as he sat down. Mr. Pennyworth sat down beside him. What if they found out about him blackmailing Mr. Pennyworth?
“Tim,” Bruce said after Tim had loaded his plate, “how was your day with Alfred?”
Tim swallowed a bite of pizza along with his nerves and smiled. “It was great! We did some shopping. We got to see Kenji Kobayashi.”
“Ah, yes, I’ve heard of him,” Bruce said with a sour look. “I’ve heard he’s something of a detective.”
Jason snickered. “The greatest detective in the whole world.”
“I’m sure some would say that,” Bruce muttered.
“Jason and I just watched some of his movies,” Dick jumped in. “They’re really good. I see why you like them so much.”
“They seem a bit… mature for someone your age,” Bruce said.
Before Tim could jump to his defense, Dick jumped in and deadpanned, “Yeah, because children and crime don’t mix. Right, Bruce?”
Bruce pretended not to hear Dick. Tim pretended not to see Jason choke in the corner.
Clearly there was some sort of family drama that Tim had just stumbled into. All Tim needed to do was avoid attention and get out of there as quickly as possible.
“So, Tim,” Bruce said. Tim just knew Bruce was getting ready to change the topic, thank goodness. He didn’t want to be here for their bat-family arguments. “How are your parents? I haven’t seen Jack around lately.”
Drat.
“They’re good!” Tim said. “Mom’s good. Dad’s good. Umm, they’re probably wondering where I am.”
“That’s funny. Last I checked, they were supposed to be in Pakistan.”
Double Drat.
“They are! I meant, um, the nanny will be wondering where I am.”
“I should really give your nanny a call before she starts looking for you.”
Thinking quickly, Tim shoved more pizza in his mouth. “Mphm mphhm mphhhhmmm.”
“What?” Bruce said.
“Mphm mphm mphm mmmmphm.”
“Young sir, don’t speak with your mouth full,” Alfred said.
Tim nodded, forcing himself to chew. He really took too big of a bite because now everyone at the table was watching him chew. Finally, he swallowed.
“Well,” said Tim, standing up, “it’s been swell, Mr. Pennyworth, but I should be getting home now.”
“But you just got here,” Dick said, looking disappointed. Beside him, Jason’s face was red and his shoulders shook.
“My nanny will be looking for me.”
“Tim,” Bruce said.
“Thank you again for driving me today, Mr. Pennyworth.”
“No trouble at all, my good lad.”
“Tim,” Bruce began again, “we know you blackmailed Alfred. And we know your parents are gone.”
The room stopped. Tim froze. He could feel himself go pale.
“R-right. That’s why I have to get home before my nanny—"
“You don’t have a nanny,” Bruce butted in. “You have a house keeper and she doesn’t come by on Fridays.”
Tim opened his mouth then closed it. Tim whirled on Mr. Pennyworth. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”
“I didn’t,” Mr. Pennyworth said. “They’re all just nosey.”
“He really didn’t,” said Jason.
“We’re nosey because we love you and we care about you,” Dick said to Alfred. Then, to Tim, “But yeah, we’re all very nosey.”
Tim didn’t understand what was happening. He stood shaking while the rest of them sat. Jason popped a can of Zesti. “Are you going to arrest me?” Tim asked in a small voice.
Bruce started. “Why would we arrest you?”
“Because I broke the law!” Tim said.
“Which one?” Dick asked.
“The one that says not to blackmail people!” Tim shouted.
“Oh yeah,” Jason mused. He shrugged. “Whatever. You’re ours now.”
“What Jason means to say is that we’d like to invite you to stay over here, at least while your parents are gone.” Bruce said.
Tim blinked through tears. “What?”
Bruce put a hand on Tim’s shoulders. “I spoke with your parents. It took a few days to get into contact with them, but they are fine with giving me temporary guardianship while they are out of the country.”
Tim gapped at him. “So… you’re putting me in your secret bat prison?”
“No!” Dick jumped in. “No no no no no. Not at all.”
“Tim,” Bruce sighed. “You’re not in trouble. Not for anything.”
Tim sniffled. “I’m not?”
Bruce shock his head. “No. You’re a very bright boy with very peculiar interests, and we think it’s best if you stay with us for a while. We want you here.”
Tim looked up at him, glassy eyed. “Really?”
Bruce smiled at him. “Of course. Dick and Jason both would be thrilled to have another brother.”
Brother? Tim thought.
Jason butted it. “I loved your powerpoint. It was the best thing I’ve ever read.”
“You read it?” Tim said.
“We hacked your computer,” Dick confessed. “Well, Barbara hacked your computer. She wants to meet you, actually.”
“So, what do you think?” Bruce asked. “You don’t have to answer right now.”
“I—” Tim said. “I think I’d like that.”
Tim turned to Mr. Pennyworth. “I’m sorry for blackmailing you.”
“Call me Alfred,” he said. He leaned down and pulled Tim into a hug. It was warm and safe and Tim never wanted him to let go.
“Great,” said Jason. “Now can we finish dinner in the living room? Dick and I are almost done part three of Cold Case Files.”
“The Skaarsgard Triplets,” Tim gasped.
Bruce sighed. “Yes, you can finish dinner in the living room. But Alfred isn’t cleaning up after you.”
Jason gave Bruce a thumbs up.
Dick rolls his eyes. “I’m telling you, the murderer could have climbed through the vents in a building that old.”
“Why bother when the guard is half blind?”
Tim, who had seen the episode and knew who did it, grinned at them.
Later, sitting on the couch between Jason and Dick, with Bruce watching from the recliner, and Alfred peaking his head in on occasion, Tim decided that this really was the best day of his life.