Chapter Text
The newest addition to their family has been such a joy to have around. At first, Bruce had reservations. He was worried that Tim might not feel welcome around so many unfamiliar faces at such a young age. But the child took to it all like a duck to water.
Tim is small, slight, and observant. He insists on helping with things, as if he needs to earn his keep. But it is in the late hours of the night, after patrol, when Dick and Bruce come home to check in on everyone, Tim’s defenses are lowered. Bruce murmurs quiet reassurances, hoping his subconscious will soak them in.
His newest son, who isn’t technically yet his son but who’s keeping track, is brilliant. Without knowing the full details, and Dick assured him that Tim does not know the full details, his youngest deduced the poison used in the murders that Bruce and Dick have been trying to crack for weeks.
He sends Dick to bed, after finishing up patrol a little early, and writes up tonight's report. The screen of the batcomputer glows bright against the damp dark din of the cave. The quiet gives him plenty of time to sit with his thoughts.
Bruce is grateful, really, he is. Dick has been carrying too much, blaming himself for each roadblock. Bruce isn't sure what happened after he and Tim had their private conversation the other night, but Dick has been doing better since. Maybe it's the relief from the solved case. Or maybe it is the product of surviving yet another year since his parents’ murder. Maybe it's the presence of a special, too-smart child who seems rather lonely. Dick is now campaigning for Tim to move to the family wing and has ordered a bulk case of nightlight online, but Bruce doesn’t mind.
Alfred has taken to the boy too. He does his best to involve Tim when he can. Invite him to participate, to feel included. It helps to use the guise of ‘assistance’. Tim loves to be helpful. He seems to have a troubling need to prove his presence, to justify being a part of their little family. No one else has instructed him that he has to contribute to be loved, and despite every effort, no amount of explanation seems to undo it. It is a troubling dynamic.
Jason was like that too, when he first came to the manor. Needing to justify the space he took up. He has slowly stopped it, learning that no matter what they will always love him. Bruce will keep repeating it for as many times as Jason needs to hear it.
Jason seems to like Tim too. At first, he gave the new kid a wide berth. Bruce had thought that he may have come up short when he sat his boys down for a talk to explain the situation before Tim came to live with them. Then, after the gala, things changed.
Now the two are practically inseparable. If Jason is reading in the library, Tim is somewhere nearby. He will guard the door, keeping anyone from interrupting Jason unless it’s an emergency. Even Dick isn't allowed in. Alfred gets a pass, usually because he is bringing food or drinks for Jason, but with the heavy caveat to not disturb the older boy under any circumstances.
Bruce could not be happier with how they are all getting on.
He could be happier, though, if Tim was his. Permanently. The dreaded deadline approaches, the end of this “internship”, the guise under which Bruce was able to provide refuge for the sweet shy lonely boy who recognized him in and out of the cowl.
Tim, bright, creative, and brilliant, was at a gala over spring break last year. The gala had been attacked, and Bruce had to wait for Batgirl's distraction before he could disappear and Batman could heed the calls for help. He saw Tim see him disappear. He saw Tim see Batman reappear, and narrow his eyes as he took in Robin’s appearance as well. Bruce saw understanding dawn in his eyes. Tim made himself smaller, ensuring that he does not catch anyone's attention. Since then, Tim has stayed quiet. He has avoided any extended one on one conversations with Bruce.
Has he scared his youngest? Has he hurt him by lying about who he really is? Has he burdened a six year old with a secret that he is too young to bear?
Bruce takes great pains to respect the boundaries Tim tries to set. He gives the boy his space. He resigns himself to not knowing what Tim and Dick discussed and what changed between them. He resigns himself to not knowing why Tim is so protective of Jason. Not unless one of his boys tell him about it, one day.
What he can do, however, is make sure his youngest gets to stay. He wants Tim under his roof. Selfishly, because he completes their little family. Ostensibly because the boy needs someone there, not only during the breaks or the summer, but year-round. Bruce wants to keep him, if he wants to stay.
Bruce has tried calling the Drakes, repeatedly. He has had his lawyers call their lawyers, hoping the implied urgency would get through to them. Email, registered mail, even contacting their dig permitter and the owner of the land they're excavating has not garnered a response. Nada. Zilch. Complete radio silence.
Well, if the Drakes don’t want to act like parents, then they don't have to be parents. Bruce is more than happy to take Tim off their hands. He has given them plenty of opportunities to stop him. Really, it’s their own fault for depositing their wonderful child on Bruce’s doorstep.
A soft skittering of a pebble across the stone floor catches his attention. He is not alone in the cave. Bruce whips around in his chair, defenses readied.
A very small, ever shrinking shape, is melting into the shadows near the staircase. Too small to be anyone but Tim. Dick is upstairs, scrolling on his phone pretending to be asleep. Jason is reading in his room, shoving the book and flashlight under his pillow every time Alfred checks on him. Alfred is in the kitchen, preparing a cup of chamomile tea. So unless an unknown threat got into the cave… but Occam' s razor, it has to be Tim.
“Tim?” Bruce calls out softly. He lowers himself onto the floor, crouching. The shadow freezes, not melting further into the darkness yet not stepping forward into the light either. “It's okay. I'm not upset. You just took me by surprise.”
The shadow shuffles in place before hesitantly inching forward. Slowly, the light reveals a sheepish Tim, hair mussed and in his Batman pajamas. His stare pierces Bruce’s soul, hitting him to his core. Tim is so small, so alone. He needs someone to watch over, to shelter him from the world as he grows.
Bruce opens his arms wide, letting Tim come to him on his own time. Slowly, step by step, Tim approaches. He watches as Tim catalogues every detail of the cave. His eyes scan the screen of the Batcomputer, gauge the stalactites hanging from the ceiling, and repeatedly check Bruce’s body language.
After what feels like a lifetime, Tim steps within arm’s reach. Bruce waits until the boy makes first contact, though, not willing to scare him off. Tim attempts to wrap his little arms around Bruce’s middle, too short to reach around, and sighs.
Gratefully, Bruce cradles the small boy towards his chest. The child goes limp, melting into his hold. Tim blinks slowly, tiredly, and Bruce stifles a chuckle. Poor baby just needed some cuddles to sleep. The Kevlar weave of the suit cannot be the most comfortable thing to fall asleep against, but Tim doesn’t seem to mind.
Bruce stands slowly, making sure to properly support the child clutched to his chest. Tim doesn’t stir. He, in fact, nuzzles closer. Bruce could not stop himself from placing a delicate kiss on the boy's head even if he wanted to.
He sits back down at the Batcomputer, intent on finishing his report. Reluctantly, one hand must be sacrificed to type. The other cards through Tim’s soft hair, scratching his scalp softly. Bruce is rewarded with a bone deep sigh from the boy.
“I’ve been wanting to speak with you…” Bruce begins awkwardly, eyes trained on the screen. “Your parents consented to you staying here as part of the internship, as you know. I… well, I was wondering if you’d be interested in making this a more permanent arrangement?”
“I’d work for ya and live ‘ere?” Tim mutters, too drowsy to lift his head. “Forever?”
“Well, yes and no.” Bruce answers, trying to explain the situation without freaking him out. “You’d stay here and live with us. You wouldn’t have to work. You’d just be part of the family.”
“But Alfwed works and he’s family.” Tim points out, eyes closed. His brows knit together and his whole face scrunches up in confusion.
“That’s….true.” Bruce reluctantly agrees. “But if he didn’t, then he’d still be family. Dick doesn’t work. Neither does Jason.”
“Dick is Robin.” Tim argues back, still half asleep. “And Jason snuck out and followed you on patrol tonight.”
Bruce is torn between freaking out over Jason’s dangerous decision making and continuing to argue with a sleepy six year old. Correction, losing an argument with a half-asleep six year old. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself.
“Point taken, Tim.” He murmurs. The conversation ahead of him takes precedence. He can chide Jason later. Or at least train him to be safe about his nighttime excursions. “Do you understand my point? I would like you to be a part of our family, officially. No internship with Wayne Enterprises needed. Is that something you’d want?”
“Me?” Tim asks,baffled, finally opening his eyes. “I get to decide?”
“Your opinion is important.” Bruce confirms. “Of course, we’ll take a vote. But I’m confident I know how the results will shake out.”
Bruce waits patiently as Tim mulls over his options. He traces the bat logo on his chest idly with a tiny finger, humming to himself as he thinks. There is a gravity to his expression that should be unknown for a child his age.
“Do mommy and daddy not want me anymore? Did I do something wrong?” Tim asks softly, swallowing a sob. Reflexibly, Bruce squeezes the boy closer. Big fat tears begin to roll down his chubby cheeks. It feels like Bane just sucker punched Bruce in the stomach.
“No!” Bruce insists. “No, no, no, darling. You didn’t do anything wrong. And you are so wanted. Your mom and dad, they – well, I wanted to ask you what you wanted first before I asked them.”
Bruce does not say that he couldn’t ask the Drakes since they won’t respond to any attempt to communicate with them. Or that, in his opinion, they don’t deserve such a brilliant wonderful boy. They’ve lost out on the best thing that ever happened to them. Too bad. So sad.
“You wanna know what I want?” Tim asks, lip wobbling. “I dunno what I want.”
“That’s alright, sweetie.” Bruce assures. “You don’t have to decide right away. I just want you to know that if you wanted to stay, we’d want you here. You’d be a part of our family no matter what.”
“Even if I change my mind?” He murmurs, wiping away a few lingering tears. “They might come back. Sometimes they do. When they came back last time, we went to three galas together. And they bought me a cool skateboard. They could come back again…maybe. They might still wanna hang out with me.”
“They’d be fools not to.” Bruce agrees, brushing his bangs back. “And if you do, you’d still be a part of our family. You can have more than one. You don’t have to choose.” If the Drakes wisen up, who is Bruce to deny his son more love? If they hurt Tim though, he isn’t sure he can protect them from the wrath of Dick, Jason, and Alfred. Tim himself may not be able to stop them.
Bruce could arrange a guardianship, as loathe as he is to agree to it. He wants to adopt Tim. He wants his son to be a full part of his family, officially. But a guardianship would preserve the relationship, giving Janet and Jack a chance to do the right thing. To realize what an amazing kid they’ve thrown to the wayside. It will give Tim the option to reconnect, if he wants to.
Slowly, chewing his lip, Tim nods. Bruce is so happy. He can’t put it into words. Overwhelmed, Bruce holds Tim tightly, kissing his little face as the boy melts into a pile of giggles. A guardianship is enough, for now.
“Now that is settled.” Bruce continues when he can find his words again. “We have one more thing to address. The whole secret identity issue.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Tim says breezeily. “We don’t hafta talk about that.”
“I’m afraid we do, son.” Bruce repeats gently. “Now it’s very important that this secret stays a secret, okay?”
“But I thought I’m not supposed to have secrets with adults.” Tim argues. “That’s what Jason told me.”
“Well, yes. In most cases, that is correct.” Bruce says, sighing. “But the Batman secret is a special kind of secret. If other people know that you know, then they might try to target you. I want to keep you safe. So I need you to never tell anyone that you know, okay?”
“Ooookayyy.” Tim answers, smirking. He definitely doesn’t mean it. Bruce knows that the boy doesn’t know how serious this can get. But this is important.
“Tim, I want you to swear –” Bruce insists.
“Fuck!” Tim interjects excitedly. Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath.
“I mean swear, as in promise,...” Bruce clarifies, keeping his tone neutral. The last thing he needs to do is make Tim feel bad for attempting to follow directions.
“Ohhhh.” Tim says softly. “Sorry.”
“It's alright, sweetheart.” Bruce assures. “Please let me finish my sentence this time, alright?”
Tim looks up at him expectantly. Looking for comfort, for confirmation that he’s okay. Bruce can’t leave him hanging.
“I need you to swear to me, Tim, that you will never tell anyone else about any of our caped identities, unless given direct permission, for as long as we all live?” Bruce asks, serious.
“I do.” Tim responds, just as intense. Good. This is good. Bruce is glad he realizes the gravity of the situation.
“Good.” He says with finality. “I’m glad.” The silence stretches out between them. Comfortable, contemplative. Bruce should be satisfied with it. There is, however, the question of how Tim got down here in the first place. The security system didn’t alarm. He must have figured out how to get into the cave. Bruce shouldn’t ask. He should let it go. Let the nice moment they’ve shared last. But he has never been good at letting anything go.
“Tim?” Bruce asks softly. “If I asked you a question, would you promise to tell me the truth.”
Tim squirms in Bruce’s lap, turning to face the batcomputer. His eyes scan the screen hungrily.
“Uh huh.” Tim answers distractedly. “Sure.”
Well, that does not have Bruce brimming with confidence. There are only so many possibilities of how Tim got down here. Dick would have closed the entrance behind himself securely. Jason was down in the cave while they were out, according to the alert in the batmobile. Alfred had been monitoring comms for the duration. No way Tim could’ve snuck past him, could he?
“Could you tell me how you got into the cave tonight?” Bruce asks, trying his luck. Alfred had said their youngest is a bad liar. Bruce has an inkling that if he wanted to, Tim might be far more skilled at it. He is talented at anything he puts his mind to. Undoubtedly, with enough practice, Tim could be capable of it. But here, in the late hours of the night, caught with his defenses down, Tim is just as bad at lying as Alfred promised he would be.
“Ummmm.” Tim murmurs, fidgeting. He balls the bottom of his sleep shirt in his hands, clearly trying to figure out how to talk around however he got down here. Bruce can appreciate the effort. “I fell?” His voice goes higher at the end, squeaking. It is reminiscent of the bats on the ceiling.
“You don’t sound too sure about that, Tim.” Bruce teases. “Do you want to try again?” Tim worries his lip, brow furrowed. He is looking everywhere but Bruce’s face. Heaving a big sigh, Tim settles back, curling into Bruce’s side.
“I followed Jason one time. But it isn’t his fault!” Tim admits, slightly panicked. “He didn’t know I was there ‘cuz I’m good at sneakin’ and I watched him and memorized it. And I don’t usually come down while you’re here but Dick got back early and you didn’t come up and say goodnight like you usually do so I got worried an’ I wanted to check on you but then you caught me and —”
Tim clamps his mouth shut. His eyes are wide and disturbed. His wild hair is tousled, sticking up in various directions. He looks alive. Insane, maybe, but alive. It is the most passionate Bruce has seen him.
“I’m sorry I missed our routine.” Bruce assuages. “I’ll make sure to always come up to say goodnight to you if you promise to not come down after your bed time unless you’re with Alfred or one of your brothers.”
Tim stares up at him with wide eyes and a hopeful expression. A grin begins to take over his face. He looks excited. The idea that Bruce is the cause of that joy, that elation, well it makes a warm fuzzy feeling grow in his chest.
“I can come down to visit you?” Tim asks, awed. Bruce chuckles, signing out the batcomputer and swiveling his chair.
“Anytime you want, as long as someone is with you.” Bruce confirms. “When you’re older you can come down on your own. But not until you’re Dick’s age, at least.”
“Okay!” Tim agrees enthusiastically. “Can I get a cool suit too?” Bruce freezes.
He doesn’t want Tim to have a suit. He doesn’t want Jason to follow in his brother’s footsteps. He didn’t want Dick to fight crime in the first place. He doesn’t want any of his children doing any of this. They shouldn’t follow his footsteps. They should live their own lives, better lives. Lives that don’t involve putting their loved ones at risk.
“Maybe when you’re older.” Bruce says, fully intending to keep Tim, and Jason, as far from things as possible for as long as possible. It might be a losing battle, but Bruce knows it to be a worthy one. “How about, for tonight, we both get some sleep?”
Tim nods, resting his head on Bruce’s chest. Instead of stripping out of the suit, and having to set his youngest down, he heads over to the medbay. Sleeping on the cots isn’t the worst thing in the world. This way, he gets more cuddles. It’s worth it.
Bruce gets comfortable, layering plenty of blankets over them both. Sinking into the pillows, he scrunches down to get almost horizontal. He will have a massive crick in his neck in the morning, but he’s had worse.
He flips open a panel in his gauntlet, dimming the lights. The cold, usually oppressive, darkness of the cave is offset by the soft snores of the boy laying against his chest. His hair is still a mess. His Batman pajamas hold the small amount of warmth generated by his little body, aided by the cocoon of blankets. His little fists clutch tightly at Bruce’s body, digging around to find hand holds beneath his armor.
The deep consistent rhythm of his breathing brings a peace Bruce hasn’t felt in years. His children are home. They are safe. They are right where they belong.
Bruce lets himself doze off, relishing in the rare lack of fear. His babies are safe. Tim is with them. Everything is as it should be.
“B?” A voice calls out in the dark. Another body joins them, slipping under the covers. Jason sandwiches himself between Bruce and the far side of the cot. An arm is draped across Tim, grabbing hold of the back of his shirt protectively.
A few moments pass, or perhaps they are hours. Bruce cannot tell. He has not slept this well in ages. Another body joins them, covering both younger boys in a guarding manner. Dick drools a pool onto Bruce’s chest. His mind briefly drifts to how to get drool out of kevlar before slipping back under the sweet surrender of sleep.
The clack of dress shoes, muted by careful even steps, wakes Bruce next. Alfred has pulled a chair next to their pile, and cards a calloused hand through Bruce’s hair. He gives Bruce a small smile, though the joy in his eyes is indescribable.
“I think we’ve voted.” Bruce whispers. Alfred’s smile grows. “It’s a landslide. One hundred percent in favor of keeping him. He’s ours.”
“Of course he is, Master Bruce.” Alfred whispers back. “He always has been.”