Chapter Text
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If you asked Tim, he would say it all began that fateful night at Haly's Circus, where he watched the Flying Graysons fall to their demise.
The night contained many of his firsts.
It was the night he received his first real hug, which radiated warmth as opposed to the cold, stiff embraces he would receive from his parents.
It was the first time he had been out in the public eye with his parents, who had kept his presence and birth a secret from the media.
It was the first time he had ever seen someone die… Despite his mother's attempts at shielding him from the horrors, the sickening crack of bones still reverberated through his mind, along with the slumped-over corpses imprinted on his psyche.
It was also the first time he ever saw The Batman!
While only four at the time, Timothy Jackson Drake had been irrevocably altered by the events he witnessed.
So, life went on, and Tim grew older.
His parents had started leaving him alone for months at a time. At first, he had a housekeeper and nanny who would come by every week, but their visits had long since stopped. Being alone was tiresome, but the boy learned how to manage on his own. When he turned six, he even figured out how to use the oven and stove.
Life became less dull when Robin came along. Running through the streets of Gotham with Batman, they were an unstoppable crime-fighting duo. Like many other children his age, Timothy was fascinated with the nighttime vigilantes, bordering on obsession. With so much time on his hands and no adult intervention, Tim would skim through every ounce of Batman and Robin media he could get his child's hands on.
Until, one day, it all paid off.
While watching a news story posted to a generic website, Tim witnessed Robin perform a perfect quadruple somersault—the same quadruple somersault that only one person left in the world could do…
Thus, there could only be one explanation.
Richard Grayson was Robin.
Which also meant that Bruce Wayne was Batman.
His neighbours were Gotham's vigilantes.
So life became interesting.
Soon, just knowing wasn't enough for Tim, so he donned a dark hoodie and took Gotham's streets by storm, accompanied only by his camera. Time went on, and Tim continued his new-found hobby.
Then Dick left Robin behind and became Nightwing operating in Bludhaven.
And a new Robin came to roost.
Jason Todd.
And he was… Amazing.
The former street kid was everything that Robin represented and so much more. He cared for the victims and understood the softness needed for situations that Batman seemed inept to. While Dick was Batman's Robin, Tim could see that Jason was becoming the people's Robin.
What was even more amazing was that they were in the same class.
For the past few years, Timothy has been faking most of his school attendance by manually hacking into the system and marking himself as present. He shows up for tests and to hand in assessments, but most of the time, he is at home or at the skatepark.
That was until now.
At ten years old, Timothy was now in High School alongside Jason Todd, who was three years his senior. What was even better was that the younger didn't even have to say anything to the other. Jason had begun talking to Tim completely unprovoked. The older would speak to Tim like he was a real person, while Timothy would generally sit there starstruck and silent.
Tim can't even remember if he had ever said anything to Jason.
Sometimes, he would fall asleep to the other's voice. Not that Jason really minded, or if he did, he didn't let it be known. He was at first shocked that the older boy had spoken to him, while most of the other children ignored him.
No one wanted to talk to a freakishly intelligent ten-year-old.
No one except for Jason.
He opened up about his troubles and even spoke openly about the problems he would have with Bruce. One time, Tim had woken up at the tail end of one of Jason's rants. He stayed still, not wanting the other to notice he was now awake as he poured his heart out about being contacted by his birth mother, Sheila Haywood. Jason was absent from school the next day, and Tim knew something was wrong. Jason had expressed that Bruce refused to let him go, so Tim figured the other was none the wiser about his son's whereabouts.
Tim had to do something, so he did.
He tried to remember anything Jaosn mentioned in detail about his mother and traced her location to a set of warehouses in Ethiopia. Then Timothy broke his one rule and hacked into Batman's base of operations. He left a note with Jason's coordinates and a message of urgency before he covered his tracks.
And then he waited.
And waited.
Tim waited.
Jason didn't come back to school the next day.
Or the day after that.
Or after that.
Robin was missing, too.
Robin was gone.
No report.
No announcement.
No Robin.
Until Jason finally flew again, but not as Robin.
As Phoenix.
Tim decided to continue going out at night, not only to BatWatch but for something else. Something important. The boy had found a new calling. He would photograph and keep track of any suspicious activity he saw and leave reports with the Bats and Commissioner Gordon.
He continued breaking his only rule and started leaving case files on Batman's system directly. But Tim knew to cover his tracks. He was an expert.
Jason returned to school fit as a fiddle and joined the school's theatre club. The teen didn't know Tim had tipped off the Bats, allowing the child to sink further into himself. He had successfully become isolated once again.
The two hadn't spoken since he returned, which was around half a year ago at this point, but that was okay. Timothy understood the older had more friends now.
And so everything fell back into a smooth rhythm.
Life went on.
And then Tim's parents died.
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He had received a call to notify him of his parent's death during his study period on a Thursday afternoon.
A plane crash. That's how they died.
Timothy sat in the front row of his parents' funeral.
The ceremony was held in the back garden of Drake Manor. The caskets were empty; they never found his parent's bodies. The service was small while still being respectable and eerily quiet.
His grandparents on both sides of his family had been dead for over a decade. Janet and Jack Drake were only children. Tim didn't have any siblings.
A handful of Drake Industries employees showed up, namely the company's shareholders, all hoping to pounce on Timothy and butter him up.
DI had funded the funeral. Tim set up for his parents' graves to be in Gotham's cemetery. His parents were respected but not enough to be mourned.
Tim understood why no one came to grieve.
His parents were hardly there for him, let alone for their company. Timothy was the only reason Drake Industries was still afloat.
Timothy had been attending galas and business meetings in place of his parents for longer than anyone would admit.
He had been running the business ever since he was eight. Most of the majority shareholders knew this. Still, the fact was kept on the down low because what they were doing was highly illegal - damn child labour laws.
Timothy Jackson Drake had been running around after vigilantes for the better part of his life but now was hindered by the law.
Ironic.
Tim sat there prim and proper as always while he paid his respects, but his mind was anything except quiet.
While going through his parents' office and getting everything in order, he found an opened envelope in the bottom drawer of his father's filing cabinet.
It was Tim's paternity test.
It was Tim's paternity test that stated Jack Drake wasn't his biological father.
It was Tim's paternity test that revealed he was the illegitimate son of Bruce Wayne.
It made sense. Both Jack and Janet had publicly dated Bruce separately before breaking up and marrying the other during the early stages of their relationship.
He is surprised he didn't notice it sooner.
Batman was Tim's biological father.
But Tim couldn't be his son. Bruce already had a family—he had a son—hell, he had two. There was no need to add more stress to Batman's busy schedule.
Besides, Tim already had his fair share of parents.
Janet and Jack were some of the best people around, in business and out. They failed as parents—not that Tim held it against them—it was just the truth. He knew the struggles of parenthood. He once had a pet rock, and that was some hard work. Tim lost it within the first week of making it. Poor Bat-Rock.
No, he was done with parents in general.
Maybe he would try out getting an uncle. Tim had heard stories that they were always a hoot and a half.
Yeah, it's just Tim and his fake uncle against the world.
What could go wrong?
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Timothy Jackson Drake should have seen this coming.
The past few days have been fine. Tim has been living normally, and despite life around him seemingly at a standstill, he is enjoying himself. He has gotten all of the paperwork in order, so if anyone looks into his current living situation, there will be nothing to write home about.
It was criminally easy to fake an uncle.
Edward Drake, Jack Drake's distant, seemingly estranged half-brother, would be flying in from Metropolis at the end of the month to take up residence in Drake Manor. Eddie had been cast out of his family at the age of ten for being the product of a short-lived affair by Tim's grandmother.
Uncle Eddie was aloof, supportive and a wild card, but most importantly, he didn't exist.
Sure, Tim was going to hire an actor, but that was only for certain occasions, like galas and other outings.
It would only be until he was eighteen that he would fake Eddie's death, move out of the cold museum known as Drake Manor, and take public ownership of Drake Industries.
His uncle wouldn't be arriving in Gotham until the end of the month, and Timothy would have to get all of his papers and belongings in order. Thus, Timothy would spend more time at home with his nanny.
Ah yes, Kelly was a wonderful nanny, one of Tim's favourites. She would ramble on in the background while he did his homework and sometimes even sing him to sleep.
Except she didn't because she also wasn't real.
Everything was coming together nicely, too.
Until now.
Now, he found himself answering the door to three familiar faces.
Robin, Nightwing, and Batman.
Well, it was actually Jason Todd, Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne but close enough.
The last he heard from the Gotham gossip mill, Mr. Wayne was in Hawaii, which meant Batman was either off-world or injured. Jason had not been at school in the past week, and Tim had not, either. Tim was given time off to grieve. Tim only knew this fact because he had seen the attendance records when he had hacked into the school to mark himself absent for personal reasons.
He had to push down the confusion building up as he studied the faces before him.
They all looked ready for the day, which, given that it was just after lunch on a Sunday, they probably were. Timothy felt his skin begin to feel itchy, and he felt unbearable embarrassment at the fact he was still dressed in his pyjamas so late.
No, it's okay. Uncle Eddie lets Tim sleep in , he quickly reassures himself, his parents aren't here anymore .
More importantly, why were the Waynes here?
"Hey Timbo," Jason began speaking in a tone he used while consoling children on patrol. "We heard about your loss and just came over to give out condolences."
Jason adjusted the container he was holding, which immediately made Tim's mouth water. It was probably full of Mr. Pennyworth's cookies. He had only had them once before, but he swore he had gone to heaven; nothing had ever tasted so good.
Dick nodded and smiled softly, "Yeah, kid, sorry we weren't able to attend the funeral."
Mr. Wayne remained silent as he kept his eyes locked on Tim, making him shift uncomfortably. The man hummed and nodded after Dick had elbowed him in the gut slightly aggressively.
They all stood there as Jason held out the container to Tim, who took it and nodded before clearing his throat.
"Thanks-"
He was cut short when Jason exclaimed loudly, "You can talk?!"
"Uh," Tim blinked while all of the Waynes seemed confused and started, "Of course I can talk…"
Dick patted Jason's shoulder as he continued spluttering and then addressed Tim again, "Well, if you need anything, we are just down the road."
Timothy nodded, not intending to take up the offer before he added a small smile: "Thanks. I do want to confirm that I can handle everything on my own."
Tim didn't think much of what he said. Turns out the Waynes did.
"Oh? Who is looking after you, Timmy?" questioned Jason, trying to peek into the house behind him. Tim instinctively angled the door to where it blocked his view, still holding the cookies.
"As of right now, I have a nanny, but she will be gone tomorrow," Tim said, knowing he was lying straight to their faces. My Uncle Eddie is coming into town."
"Uncle Eddie?" questioned Mr. Wayne with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, he contacted me a little after the ceremony," Tim said, not allowing his panic at the questions to show, "He should be arriving in Gotham tonight."
"I wasn't aware that Janet had a brother?" Said Mr. Wayne, ignoring the glares he was receiving from his children.
"He is from my father's side," Tim replied coolly, "Half-brother."
"Hnn," was the only reply he received.
"Hey!" exclaimed Jason as he clicked his fingers and pointed at Tim with a big grin, "You guys should come over to dinner tomorrow night."
Dick smiled and nodded excitedly, "That would be great."
Timothy Jackson Drake couldn't let his heroes down, so he choked out a soft sound of agreement before straightening himself back up.
"Thank you again for the cookies and the offer. We will be there. As for now, I have to go. I'm busy," Tim looked down at his pyjamas again.
He nodded at the three and smiled politely before closing the door, not waiting for any of them to respond.
Tim stood in front of the door, listening to the retreating footsteps. Turning quickly, he headed to the kitchen to dispose of the cookies on the counter before bolting up to his room.
This was bad.
The actor he wanted to hire would not be available until the end of the month, so he had to find a replacement quickly.
Slamming open his door, he scrambled under his bed, wiggling at the loose floorboard until it popped up, revealing a hidden compartment.
He picked up its sole inhabitant and took a deep breath before powering the device on. He pressed on the only contact with shaking hands and let it ring. The person on the other end said something, but Tim didn't register it as he spoke.
"I need a favour."
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