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It—it’s fine. Totally fine. Just a broken vase. No big deal. Maybe it’s not even expensive. Not like the vases around Tim’s parents’ house. Those are all one-of-a-kind-priceless-breath-on-it-and-we’ll-kill-you artifacts. This might just be any old decoration lying around. Maybe Bruce won’t even notice it’s gone.
But if he does, and he realizes Tim lied about it—
Should he confess and accept whatever consequences Bruce thinks are appropriate? Or would it be better to take the risk and hide the evidence?
Maybe it would be worth the risk. Tim doesn't think he could look Bruce in the eye and tell him he shattered a vase. Anyway, if Bruce finds out, maybe he’ll assume Jason did it instead. Tim feels bad immediately at the idea of letting Jason take the fall, but he’s Robin . Bruce won’t be as upset with him as he would be with Tim. Tim’s a guest who Bruce is letting stay in his house for who knows what reason, and Tim absolutely cannot jeopardize that.
After all, the deal is that Tim stays at the Manor until his parents get home, or Bruce calls Child Protective Services. Because you’re not supposed to leave thirteen year olds unattended for weeks at a time or whatever.
And if his parents have to deal with CPS because of Tim…
Tim retrieves the broom and does his best to clean up the mess, dumping the shards into the nearest trash can.
Two days later, Tim has almost managed to stop worrying about the vase when Bruce joins him in the kitchen wearing a troubled expression.
“Tim? Can I talk to you for a second?”
Tim swallows his sandwich bite, the congealed lump of bread sticking in his throat. A thrill of fear runs up his spine. His parents tend to start a lot of lectures like that: Tim, I wanted to talk to you about your grades , and Tim, let’s have a conversation about your attitude .
“You’ve seemed a little on edge lately. Is everything alright?”
You’ve been awfully quiet, Tim. Are you hiding something from us?
I thought you wanted me to be quiet.
Do not talk back to me, young man!
Tim nods, staring down at his lunch. He probably won’t be able to finish it now. If Bruce knows about the broken vase but hasn’t mentioned it yet, then he most likely has a plan for how this entire interaction will play out. Maybe he wants Tim to admit it on his own. Maybe he wants Tim to deny it so he can give him a worse punishment.
“Tim?”
Tim should answer. Bruce is waiting for an answer. He should—the worst thing he can possibly do in this situation is not respond at all and make Bruce think he’s being ignored.
He tries to open his mouth, to say something, anything , but then a spike of anxiety shoots through him like a violent shudder on a freezing day, followed by a feeling like butterfly wings brushing against the insides of his stomach. It swirls like a whirlpool, screaming at him: do not open your mouth, don’t make a sound, shut up, SHUT UP BE QUIET DO NOT SAY A GODDAMN WORD .
Tim puts a hand over his mouth and stares at his plate, heart pounding, unable to look at Bruce.
“Kiddo, I’m not mad at you. I promise.”
We’re not mad, Tim; we’re just disappointed .
“Can you look at me?”
Fuck no, absolutely not, no way. Tim shakes his head, pressing his hand harder against his mouth, his other hand gripping the edge of the chair.
Bruce sighs a long, quiet sigh, and Tim tries to make himself even smaller.
“Okay. That’s alright kiddo. You don’t have to look at me. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
Also not happening. Tim’s not going to talk to anyone ever again. His words are stuck inside of him where they can’t cause problems.
Besides, the question reeks of a trap. What’s wrong Tim? Oh, nothing, he’s just wracked with guilt about breaking a vase and then hiding it, that’s all.
He very much wants to not be here , stomach churning with anxiety, waiting for Bruce to finally snap and start yelling at him. Tim doesn’t want to be seen by anyone. He wants to go hide in his room where he can’t be perceived and maybe curl up in the closet, but that’s not possible right now.
He shakes his head again, otherwise paralyzed.
That’s the thing about Tim. Most of the time, he can handle a situation by himself. He can ignore or push aside the awful feelings, leaving them for later, and concentrate on solving the problem. He can be the person everyone expects him to be, the good little heir who’s content with everything in his life from his parents’ trips to an incredibly boring conversation with adults who don’t give a shit about him.
But some situations make it very difficult to compartmentalize. When Tim’s parents are upset with him, he can’t shut out the feelings. He can’t find the right thing to say to make them less angry, the right apologies, sometimes any words at all.
He’s lied to many adults before, gotten quite good at it, but with his parents lying doesn’t work. They’ll find out eventually, if they even believed him in the first place, and then best case scenario he’ll be locked in his room for the next day, possibly longer if they forget about him.
And Bruce is probably the same, he’s Batman for fuck’s sake, he’ll see right through anything Tim says and Tim would like to avoid being hit by his favorite hero, but he can’t say anything, true or otherwise with half his brain screaming at him every time he thinks about opening his mouth.
Sitting here is agony. He can't talk, he can't move, he can't even think straight. There’s too much panic, and it’s choking him, freezing him in place.
“Is there anything I can do to help you right now?”
Bruce still sounds so kind and patient and it’s awful because Tim doesn’t deserve that. He shrugs his shoulders tightly. His body is convinced he’s dying and he doesn’t know how to tell it he’s not. What could Bruce possibly do to make this better?
“Alright. How about this, chum. Why don’t you take your food and go up to your room. Once you’ve had a little bit of time, I’ll come up and we can see where you’re at. Unless you’d rather talk to Alfred?”
Tim shrugs again, miserably.
“Or Jason?”
Why would Bruce want to send Jason? That doesn’t make any sense.
But still, talking to Jason would be better than talking to an adult, and by better Tim means maybe actually possible. Jason’s been pretty nice so far, even though Tim is the awkwardest person to ever exist. Maybe he’ll be nice about this too.
Tim nods.
“Okay. You go on up, and I’ll send Jason after you soon.”
Tim stands up mechanically, conscious of every little movement. He picks up his plate, and starts heading towards the stairs, keeping his eyes as far away from Bruce as is reasonably possible. The trek to his room seems to take forever and much too little time simultaneously.
Tim sets his plate on his desk, then walks over to the door, and checks, then checks again, that the door can only be locked from the inside. He still leaves it just barely open so he’ll have some extra warning if—if something.
Then, finally, he buries himself in the comforter, and cries.
It’s the stupidest, most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to him. He shut down in front of Batman because he was worried about what, reasonable consequences for messing up? Tim was rude, Tim was pathetic, and Tim is probably going to be in even more trouble because he couldn’t admit he did something wrong like a normal person. He’s gonna get kicked out and then he’ll have to explain to his parents why the state is on their ass and then they’ll probably murder him for completely messing up their lives.
Tim drifts through the ocean of feelings as wave after wave crashes over him. Eventually, there’s a knock on his door, which swings slowly open in response.
“Hey Timbo. Izzit alright if I come in?”
Tim levers himself into a sitting position and looks over at Jason, who is leaning against the door frame, exuding a casualness that’s probably at least partially contrived.
“Mm-hm,” Tim says, but it comes out weird. The first part comes out as an unvocalized rasp, and the rest sounds like a squeak and is probably too quiet to hear. He nods to cover his bases.
Jason slips inside, returning the door to its original position on his way in. He perches on the edge of the bed, a couple feet away from the Tim burrito by the headboard.
“Bruce sent me up here to diplomatically question you ‘cause he’s worried, but we don’t have to talk about jack shit if you don’t want to. You can tell me about your pictures, or I can talk about Lord of the Rings, or we can just sit here quietly for a while.”
Tim rubs at his itchy eyes. “Won’t Bruce get mad?” The words are faint and barely more than a whisper, but at least he managed to actually speak.
“Nah,” Jason says, leaning back against the wall. “I’m not going to tell him a thing that happens up here unless you want me to or it falls under those therapy rules about someone being hurt. Bruce knows that too. He’s okay without knowing what’s up as long as your worries are assuaged. Ooh, that’s a good word. Assuaged. Should check if I used it right.”
Jason pulls out his phone and starts typing, leaving a silence that isn’t quite comfortable, but is leagues better than if Jason silently waited for Tim to say something.
Tim should. Tim should tell Jason about the vase. If he just admits it then whatever is going to happen will happen and Tim can stop worrying about it.
It takes Tim several minutes to realize he won’t be able to say it aloud, so he drafts a text to Jason and stares at it for several more minutes. His finger hovers over the arrow.
He sends the text before he can lose his nerve.
Jason’s phone chirps, and Tim buries his head in his knees so he doesn’t have to watch.
Presumably after opening and reading the text, Jason murmurs, “Tim. Can I come over there and give you a hug? I won’t mind if you say no.”
Tim shrugs, still not looking up. He doesn’t know if he wants a hug from Jason and making a decision seems impossible right now.
“Okay. I’ll just stay over here for now.”
Tim is both disappointed and relieved.
“You’re worried about Bruce being mad, right?” he asks, softly.
Tim nods, and hopes Jason isn’t going to make fun of him for making such a big deal out of something so dumb.
“You know, when Bruce kidnapped slash adopted me and brought me to this huge-ass fancy house, I was so worried about doing something wrong and fucking the whole thing up. And I was really careful for a long time. But eventually, I dropped a plate. It was a nice china plate too, and I was so sure Bruce was gonna send me back to the streets, or at the very least beat me. You wanna know what he said?”
Giving any kind of response sounds like a lot of work, but thankfully Jason doesn’t seem to need one.
“He could tell I was really scared, and so he crouched down in front of me, and he said, ‘Jason. When I was a teenager, I broke more things in this house on purpose than you will ever break by accident. For reasons I have yet to fully comprehend, Alfred put up with me then. It would be very hypocritical of me to get mad at you for accidentally breaking one single plate.’ And then he said something along the lines of ‘I'm rich as fuck, I can afford to buy this entire house and everything in it right this second and not even put a dent in my wallet.’”
Tim snorts softly, and Jason cracks a grin in response. He sobers slightly, and says, “I promise he’s not going to be upset. He’s not even gonna give you extra chores, or, actually, any chores. Accidents happen. You’ve been to a lot of those galas, right? You’ve probably seen Bruce knock over an entire table of food before.”
“Yeah, but that’s different ,” Tim says, rolling his eyes.
“Oh yeah? How is it different?” Jason arches an eyebrow.
“Because he’s—” There’s a heart stopping half-second where Tim almost says “because he’s Batman and it’s an act for the public” before he catches himself.
“Because he’s an adult?” Jason asks, apparently happy to guess what goes in the blanks. “What, are your parents the type to lecture you for making mistakes like they’ve never done a thing wrong in their entire lives?”
“No,” Tim mumbles. “They yell at each other a lot for doing things wrong.”
“...uh huh. Hey Timmy, what would have happened if you had broken a vase in your parents house?”
Tim looks up sharply. There’s something in Jason’s voice, something that’s pretending to be casual, but isn’t quite managing. It’s the same tone Bruce used when he was trying to figure out if Tim was home alone.
Which means it’s a trap. Jason thinks he’s being abused or something, the same way Bruce thought he was being neglected. They’re gonna call the state and try to get him taken away from his parents which probably won’t work because his parents have contingencies for things like this and then he’ll be in huge trouble, and if he does get taken away Tim’s never going to see his parents again and he’ll be crammed into some shitty foster home where the people don’t really care about the kids so he’ll probably run away and live on the streets and then jump off a building or something because his entire life will be ruined.
Jason is watching him with an assessing look, and Tim realizes he’s been quiet just a smidgen too long. Tim covers his mouth with his hand.
On the bright side, as far as lying goes, this is more familiar territory. He’s once again capable of putting his feelings in a box for a little while.
“I’d get a stern lecture on the importance of being careful around expensive artifacts. They might shout a little if it’s a bad day.” He tries to sound unconcerned and makes an effort to not hide the jittery nervousness—Jason will probably think it’s weird if he goes from a sobbing mess to completely collected in the span of five minutes.
If the slight crease in his forehead is any indication, this is not the answer Jason was expecting. “Yeah? Are you ever punished or anything, or just the lectures?”
What kinds of things would be acceptable consequences to Jason and Bruce? Could Tim say he’s been sent to bed without dinner before? That has the advantage of being true; he’d just have to leave out how long he was in his room and how many meals he actually missed.
Although, Tim is not unaware that Jason grew up without consistent access to food, so maybe not. Really, he should be the first person to agree that it’s completely different: Jason was probably malnourished and could have starved to death while Tim only has to go without food for a day or two every few months, and right after he can order as much take-out as he wants.
Despite this, Tim decides Jason might still be overly concerned.
“Usually they revoke my screentime privileges for the next couple days,” Tim settles on. Hopefully that meets their arbitrary line for reasonable punishments.
It’s really frustrating how sensitive they are about this stuff. Obviously abuse is very bad and damaging and not something that should be done to children, but Tim isn’t being abused . He can handle things like being locked in his room or getting hit exactly one time. He would have been fine with whatever Bruce had ended up doing, really he would have. He overreacted a little because he didn’t know what to expect, and he can’t afford to be kicked out right now, is all. Tim’s not a baby, and he doesn’t understand why they keep treating him like one. They don’t even trust him to take care of himself while he’s home alone.
Jason is acting like Tim’s fear of Bruce means something. As if kids everywhere don’t try to hide things like that from their parents to avoid getting in trouble.
Tim, deep in his head, plotting, is genuinely shocked when Jason says, “Oh, sure,” and lets it drop. He starts up a comfortable chatter about video games without even another suspicious look.
Was he just—no, there was no way he was just curious . Jason had clearly been prying.
But then why did he just give up? He doesn’t actually believe Tim, does he? That seems—unlikely. No, that seems impossible. Jason Todd is being raised by the world’s greatest detective—there’s no way he’d just take Tim’s word for it, especially not when he already knows Tim has lied about his parents in the past.
So—so. He knows Tim is lying, but he isn’t pushing the issue. That hasn’t really happened before. It’s—he doesn’t seem frustrated with Tim or anything. He seemed disappointed a second ago when Tim didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, but he’s leaving it alone. That has caught Tim more than a little off guard.
Eventually, there’s a lull in the conversation and Jason says, “I’m sorry for asking about your parents, Tim. It’s none of my business. Really though, you don’t need to worry about Bruce being mad. He’s just happy you’re here with us. So am I.”
“Oh.” Tim’s throat closes up, and he tries to swallow around it.
Jason apologized for being nosy. Jason’s content to let the issue lie for now.
Maybe that should make Tim anxious about what’s coming, but really it’s just a relief that he doesn’t have to play a part for anyone right now. He can go back to being a kid who’s interested in things like Legend of Zelda and photography, and is allowed to be a little bit loud if he wants. He doesn’t have to be Timothy Drake right now.
He can just be Tim.
“Bruce, he lied to my face. I promised him I wouldn’t tell you what he said unless it violated the therapy rules, and technically this doesn’t, but it also kinda does. He basically told me his parents aren’t shitty. Except he wasn’t acting like he normally does when he said it. He slipped right back into the character he plays whenever he’s talking to adults.”
“You know, Jay, it’s interesting that you’re bringing this up, because I seem to remember telling you not to interrogate Tim about his home life and let me deal with it.”
“I didn’t interrogate him, B, I tactfully inquired about his parents’...parenting techniques.”
“Of course. And how did you say that went? He immediately started lying to you? Hm. It’s unfortunate no one predicted this turn of events and warned against it.”
“ Alright , old man, I’m sorry .”
“Thank you for apologizing. Now please explain to me why what you did was a bad idea.”
“Because we want Tim to trust us, and that’s more important than getting him to admit his parents suck, especially when we already have proof of criminal neglect.”
“That’s right.”
“But you saw how scared he was! That’s not normal.”
“Jason. Son. I know you’re worried. I know you’re scared. And I promise you that I am not going to let Tim go back to the Drakes. But I need you to trust me to handle it, okay? All you need to do is be a friend to Tim. Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah. Okay, Dad.”
“Alright then. Why don’t you go see if Tim wants to come downstairs. I think we could all use some icecream.”