Chapter Text
The tension in the manor can be cut with a knife.
Tim hates it; it reminds him too much of when his bio parents fought. Cold shoulders and snide comments, it makes Tim just want to hide away in his room. But he also doesn’t really like being alone. So, he just does his best to avoid Bruce.
It’s really not that difficult the first couple days.
Bruce stayed in his room, so Tim mostly had free range of the house.
Then Bruce starts to come out of his room, sometimes walking with a cane but mostly using a wheelchair. If Bruce ever entered a room where Tim was hanging out, he’d often just stare at him coldly, before leaving the room again. Bruce mostly just goes and sits outside; Tim isn’t really sure what he’s doing, but Alfred always looks sad when Bruce leaves.
It was…
He didn’t have the words to explain it. But it felt bad, awful really.
And he couldn’t talk to anyone about it.
Dick was so angry.
Tim could see it in the way he tensed anytime Bruce entered the room, every time he’s even mentioned. What had happened when Babs brought him upstairs? Tim would think Dick would be ecstatic to have Bruce back, but then again…
Thinking back on what led to this, the anger, the all consuming grief, the violence.
Bruce hasn’t had the time to grieve, everyone else has had.
Doesn’t he deserve that?
And if Tim, in some way, reminded him of that grief, then Tim could try and keep out of his way.
“Uhg, I can’t believe I still have to do homework.” Lizzie complained. “It’s almost the end of the school year! Can’t they just give me a pass? I got shot!”
“They should give our whole class a pass after that.” Dom mutters.
“Then you’ll just complain about not knowing stuff next year.” Emma points out.
“What could they possibly teach us in the last couple of weeks?” Lizzie sighs.
“Important things I’d hope,” Tim jokes. “C’mon, like you said, year’s almost done, we don’t have to do that much…”
Tim trails off as Bruce enters the kitchen, Bruce stares at him for a moment, before going over to the fridge.
“I’m going to mute for a second.” Tim states, muting the call, then gathering up all his homework. He awkwardly stuffs it under his arm, grabbing his crutches.
“You’re going to drop that.” Bruce speaks.
Tim jumps; he hasn’t heard Bruce speak once since he’d woken up.
“I can handle it.” Tim squeaks out, adjusting his stuff.
Bruce just stares at Tim, the silence stretching.
“Hey Tim I was…” Dick stops short, taking in the situation, then meets Bruce's eyes with a poisonous look.
Bruce finally stops staring, closing the fridge, a meal replacement in hand.
“Here Tim, let me help.” Dick offers, taking Tim’s homework. “Where were you going?”
“Thanks dad.” Tim adjusts his hold on his crutches. “I was just going to move up to my room.”
Dick nods, and the two of them head up to Tim’s room.
Once they’re there, Dick places Tim’s homework on his desk. “You know you don’t have to move if Bruce enters a room.”
Tim shrugs. “I know it’s just, I remind him of Jason, don’t I?”
Dick lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you do.”
“I don’t want to upset him,” Tim sits at his desk. “It’s his home.”
“It’s your home too!” Dick rebuts, then deflates. “It was supposed to be, I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable here.”
“Dad-”
“You don’t need to make yourself small for him.” Dick cups his face kissing his forehead. “If he has a problem, he can go to a different room. God knows there’s enough of them in the manor.”
“I don’t mind Dad.” Tim states. “Bruce is hurting, it’s really not a big deal for me to do my homework in my room.”
“You are an amazing kid.” Dick gently rubs under Tim’s eye. “But you’re not responsible for grown-ups' emotions.”
Tim leans into the touch. “I know, but he’s not in a good state of mind. I have the statistics to prove it.”
Dick snorts. “Do you now?”
Tim nods. “Yeah, I showed you the charts, from before he fell.”
“Ah yes,” Dick grins, shaking his head fondly. “Your original plan.”
“Do you think-”
“Hey,” Dick kneels, pressing their foreheads together. “You couldn’t have done anything, okay? Bruce was on a destructive spiral; it was always going to end in him getting hurt. Any what ifs are just that. You saved his life, that is a fact.”
“Can I have a hug?” Tim asks quietly.
“Of course, sweetheart.” Dick pulls him into a hug, hand coming up to cradle the back of his head.
“Thanks Dad.” Tim mutters, face pressed into Dick’s shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, before Tim pulls away. “I gotta finish my homework.”
“Alright bud.” Dick stands up, ruffling Tim’s hair. “Let me know if you need anything alright?”
“I will.”
Tim watches the security footage, lightly tapping the desk. A missing person's report with no lead, and a dead body found days later, seemingly drained of blood.
A man named Isaac Howell, according to his roommate he’d gone out clubbing the night before and never came home. It wasn’t reported right away, the roommate assuming he’d just gone home with a girl or something. But the day stretched on, and Isaac never came home. Never texted or called to let his roommate know where he was either.
Tim was checking nearby security footage, trying to catch some glimpse of him leaving the club.
It takes a while, but eventually he catches a glimpse of someone in the back of a car, who could be Isaac. The man was clearly in the middle of ‘activities’ with a woman, which made getting a good look at his face difficult. But if he could follow the car-
“What are you doing down here?” Bruce’s voice nearly makes him jump out of his skin.
“I’m just looking at some security footage to-”
“Perhaps you should leave it to Barbara.” Bruce suggests firmly, his tone making it clear this is more of an order than a suggestion. “You could get hurt.”
Tim bristles. “I’m not doing anything dangerous.”
“The cave is dangerous-”
“Then maybe you should have installed railings,” Tim snarks.
“Jason-” Bruce's face gets hard; Tim feels his heart rate spike. The memory of his bio dad glaring at him that morning in the kitchen, the rage in his eyes.
“Go back upstairs,” Bruce orders through clenched teeth. “You shouldn’t be down here.”
Tim swallows hard, then grabs his crutches, hobbling over to the elevator. He can just tell Babs what he found when she got back from work.
He has to lean against the wall of the elevator, his whole-body trembling. All he can hear is Jack Drake's voice, screaming at him about disrespect. Tim squeezes his eyes shut, reminding himself that his bio parents aren't here, he’s safe, Bruce wasn’t like Tim’s parents. Even if he sometimes reminds him of them.
“Tim?” His eyes snap open to see Babs' worried face. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
How long had he been in the elevator? She shouldn’t be home yet.
He scrubs his cheeks, wiping away the tears. “I’m fine mom-”
“Come here.” Babs orders.
Tim does as she says, hobbling over to her. He quickly finds himself being lifted into her lap, being cradled. Babs takes his crutches, setting them in one of her side pouches, before leaving the study, taking them towards the elevator to the second floor.
“Tell me the truth, Chickadee.” Babs says gently. “You’re not crying for no reason.”
“It’s dumb,” Tim mutters. “I just got reminded of my bio dad.”
“I’m so sorry baby.” Babs kisses his head. “It’s not dumb, it’s ptsd. Do you know what triggered it?”
Tim tries to figure out a way to explain it without Babs getting mad at Bruce. Because she would tell Dick, then Dick would get mad, and he might yell at Bruce. It wasn’t like Bruce did it on purpose; he doesn’t know Tim’s triggers.
“Just something Bruce did,” Tim finally admits as they enter the elevator. “Nothing bad, he just did it in a way that made me think of my dad. I really don’t know why it made me freak out. Please don’t get upset with him, it was just a facial expression.”
“He made a face?” Babs clarified. “At what.”
“I don’t know,” Tim lies. “He just looked annoyed-”
“You don’t need to lie to protect him,” Babs interrupts. “It’s not your job to shield him, especially if it comes at the expense of your mental wellbeing."
“I said something snarky.” Tim admits. “He really wasn’t trying to be mean, Mom.”
“Alright,” Babs sighs, exiting the elevator and heading down the hall. “I’m still going to talk to your dad about this. He should know you had a panic attack.”
Tim slumps a little but nods. “Okay.”
They both go quiet, for a minute; Tim finds his eyes sliding shut.
“Oh, I think I found footage of Isaac leaving the club.” Tim suddenly states, sitting up. “He was in the back of a car with a woman.”
“Did you get a good look at the car?” Babs asks.
“No, I was going to follow it on the camera’s but…” Tim trails off, suddenly feeling bad.
Babs places a kiss on his temple. “Amazing work, Baby Bird. I’ll go take a look, how about you take a nap?”
“Okay.” Tim slides off Babs' lap, now just outside of his room. “The footage should still be up.”
Tim goes into his room crawling into bed, Babs follows, lightly adjusting his pillows and blankets.
“Get some rest.” Babs brushes back his bangs. “Dick’s going to be home soon, I’ll let him know you're sleeping.”
“Thanks mom.” Tim mummers. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Tim is dozing, somewhere between sleep and awake when he hears it.
Tap, tap, tap.
He pulls the blanket over his head; it’s just the wind knocking a tree branch against his window.
Tap, tap, tap.
Tim’s brows furrow, as his awareness of his surroundings slowly becomes more clear.
His new room doesn’t have a tree close enough for that.
Tim shoots up, head whipping to his window.
Tap, tap, tap.
He’s not sure what he was expecting to see; his black-out curtains are tightly shut, Babs had made sure of that before leaving.
As quietly as possible, Tim goes to the window, his phone buzzes on his bedside table, but he ignores it. Carefully he peeks through the curtains and-
“Hey Rob!” Kon waves happily from where he floats outside his window, phone to his ear. “Can I come in?”
Tim sighs, opening the window, Kon puts his phone away and the buzzing stops.
“I tried texting you, but you weren’t answering.” Kon states, crawling through the window. “How are you doing?”
“Sorry, I was asleep.”
Kon grimaces. “Aw man, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Tim shrugs, “It’s fine.”
“What happened to your leg?” Kon suddenly asks.
“It’s broken.” Tim responds dryly. “That’s why it’s in a cast.”
Kon rolls his eyes. “I can see that but how? Did it happen during the bridge attack? Dad said you were there but he wouldn’t give any details.”
“No.” Tim sits on his bed; Kon sits beside him. “It happened after.”
“Oh,” Kon seems to notice his discomfort, and drops the subject. “I heard Bruce is awake.”
“Yeah,” Tim picks at his blanket. “Last week.”
“Is he doing okay?” Kon asks.
Tim shrugs. “Yeah, he’s healing really well. Dad said he’d need a bunch of physio.”
Kon nods. “That’s good, how’d he react to being a grandpa now?”
Whatever face Tim makes, causes Kon to suck breath through his teeth.
“Yikes.” Kon rubs the back of his neck. “A real shock, was it?”
“I don’t think he likes me, Kon.” Tim admits. “I actually think he might hate me.”
“Seriously?” Kon looks taken aback. “I could understand him being shocked but- When I met him, he was really nice. Scary, but nice.”
Tim shrugs, flopping back onto his bed. “I think I remind him of Jason.”
“Damn, that majorly sucks.” Kon follows his lead, flopping next to him. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t think there’s anything I can do.” Tim states. “You can’t make someone like you.”
“Yeah, but like, that's got to make things awkward.” Kon points out. “Like what do you do when you run into him in the kitchen or something?”
“Go to a different room,” Tim explains. “But I don’t know if that’s going to matter soon.”
Kon turns his head to look at him. “Why not?”
“I might not be able to keep living here much longer.” Tim’s eyes burn as he says it.
“What?” Kon sits up, clearly angry. “This is your home!”
“It’s Bruce's house.” Tim reminds him. “He’s the one who owns it, so if he doesn’t want me here…”
“Yeah, but like, he wouldn’t kick you out!” Kon argues. “You’re his grandson!”
“I don’t know Kon.” Tim swallows hard. “He’s not like he was before, after Jason died…”
“Where would you go?” Kon asks.
“Blüdhaven, maybe.” Tim shrugs. “I think Dad still has an apartment there. Mom’s apartment isn’t big enough so DCF probably wouldn’t approve.”
Kon frowns. “Do you want to move to Blüdhaven?”
“Not really!” Tim cries. “I like Gotham, but I want to stay with Dad more! If I can’t stay with him, I might have to go to foster care or, or-”
Tim takes a shaky breath. “It’s almost the end of the school year, so transferring to a school in Blüd wouldn’t be that difficult.”
The two fall into silence, staring at the ceiling.
“Can I sign your cast?” Kon suddenly asks.
“Sure.” Tim agrees. “Just keep it civilian, I don’t want to have to explain why Superboy signed my cast.”
Kon grins. “I would never!”
Tim rolls his eyes.
“Ooh, the only names on here are Dick and Babs.” Kon points out. “Am I the first friend to sign?”
“I haven't been able to see anyone in person yet.” Tim explains.
“Perfect.” Kon grabs a couple markers. “This just means I have prime real estate."
There’s a knock at the door, “Tim are you awake bud?”
“I’m up dad!” Tim responds, the door creaks open, Dick poking his head inside.
“Oh, Kon.” Dick looks surprised. “Does your dad know you're here?”
Kon suddenly looks sheepish. “No…”
Dick raises his brow. “And why not?”
“I asked him about visiting,” Kon explains. “But he said no, because a lot was going on so I should give you guys space. But I don’t have to stay long, I just wanted to see how Tim was doing.”
“Okay, I’m fine with you visiting.” Dick states. “But maybe tell your parents where you are.”
Kon sighs, putting down the markers, and pulling his phone back out to make a call. The call is picked up almost instantly. “Hey Dad!”
Tim can barely hear Uncle Clark's voice through the phone but can’t make out the words.
“I’m fine! I’m just in Gotham.” Kon winces. “I know but-... Dick said it’s fine… Well, I didn’t ask, per say… I just wanted to check on Tim! He’s my friend, dad!”
A moment of silence as Uncle Clark responded. Then Kon grins. “Thanks Dad! Love you!”
Kon holds the phone out to Dick, he takes it without a word.
“Hey Uncle Clark… Yeah it’s fine.” Dick laughs. “Yeah, I came home to find Kon in Tim’s room… He was just worried, Clark, I did way worse at his age.”
“Alright, I’ll make sure he heads home after dinner.” Dick promises. “Bye Uncle Clark.”
Dick hangs up the phone, then tosses it to Kon. “Looks like you’re staying for dinner, kid.”
“Awesome.” Kon grins, pocketing his phone.
“So uh,” Kon pauses as he crawls back out the window to fly home. “You know you could always come to Metropolis to visit? If things get tense, Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind.”
“Thanks, Kon.” Tim offers what is hopefully a comforting smile. “But I’ll be okay. But maybe we could plan a visit once my cast is off?”
“Yeah, that would be fun.” Kon agrees. “Bye Tim.”
“Bye Kon.”
It’s incredibly boring being stuck at home.
The cast limits what he can do, and all his friends are busy with school, while Tim is long done. Normally he’d go down to the cave and work on a case but…
He really doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday. Tim could use his computer in his room, but he’s not supposed to do that, Dick made it very clear, case work stays in the cave.
Tim sighs, shutting his DS, setting it to the side. His eyes go down to his leg, and he runs his fingers over the cast, over the new name there. Rolling his eyes at the Superman logo next to Kon's name. He grabs a marker and adds a Bat in between Babs and Dick’s names. Then draws a little Robin symbol on his ankle. Nodding, before capping the markers.
Perfect.
There was a library on the second floor, smaller than the one downstairs, a converted room. Tim had asked Dick about it when he’d first stumbled across it, Dick had told him it had been a gift to Jason. Tim apologized profusely, feeling like he’d invaded a sacred space. Dick and Alfred had both assured him it was fine. Libraries are meant to be used, and books are meant to be read. That had been something Jason had firmly believed. Dick said Jason would hate to see all these books go unread.
Still it took Tim a full month to feel comfortable using it.
Tim loved it, way more than the library at Drake Manor which was full of old books Tim wasn’t allowed to touch. It was cozy, with plush chairs and soft lighting, full of all sorts of books, old and new. Best of all it had a bay window with a bench that was perfect for reading, sun warmed and covered in blankets and pillows.
Whenever Tim sat there one or both -normally both- of his cats would come join him. Cleo and Van Gogh loved to sleep in the sun as Tim read whatever book had caught his attention.
Once he caught Dick watching him read, a sad look on his face. When Tim asked if something was wrong Dick had brushed him off, then came and sat with him. The two of them sat and read for the rest of the afternoon.
That was the best, when they would sit and read together. After Tim had been kidnapped, and his concussion wasn’t as bad, they’d sat in the library together and Dick had read out loud to him until he’d fallen asleep.
Tim wondered what books Jason had read, like to think Uncle Jason would have sat and read with him too. Occasionally he’d find the odd note in the books, ones that read like they were for book reports. They made him feel a little closer to Jason, knowing he was sitting in the same spot reading a book Jason had once loved.
While there wasn’t much Tim could do while in the cast, he could sit and read in the bay window with his cats.
Van Gogh sat in his lap, purring away, as Tim read Treasure Island. He was halfway through the book, lost in the adventure. He didn’t notice someone else was there. Not until his hair started to stand on end. Tim looked up from his book to see Bruce standing in the doorway, staring at him, hard eyes full of rage.
“What are you doing in here?” Bruce demands. Van Gogh stands, hissing at the man.
“I-I was just reading-”
“Who gave you permission to be here?” Bruce growls. “This is Jason’s room!”
Tim’s stomach drops; he suddenly knows how criminals felt when faced by Batman.
“That’s his bench, his books!” Bruce continues. “How dare you come in here!”
“I’m sorry.” Tim’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I didn’t-”
“Don’t lie, you knew!” Bruce snaps.
“That’s not-”
“You’re a thief.” Bruce's voice is cold. “Stealing a dead boy's home, stealing my son's home.”
“I’m sorry,” is all Tim can say, tears starting to fall.
“Get out.” Bruce spits. “Get out of this room, get out of my house, I don’t want you here.”
“I-where-” Tim stumbles, body going cold in shock.
“Get out!” Bruce roars.
Tim gets to his feet as fast as possible; Van Gogh goes scrambling, as the book he was reading falls to the floor. Pain shoots up his leg, causing him to stumble as he reaches for his crutches from where they lean against the wall. He rushes the best he can out of the library, past Bruce, half scared the man would try to grab him as he passed.
He goes straight to the elevator, heart pounding, he’s not sure where he’s going but he knows he can’t be here.
Dick is rushing up the stairs, stopping short when he sees Tim by the elevator. “Tim? Baby what happened?”
Tim just wipes his face, then heads into the elevator, spamming the close door option.
“Tim? Tim!” Dick runs up the last couple stairs, but the doors shut just as Dick reaches them. “Tim!”