Chapter Text
It was a particularly nice night, for Gotham anyway. It wasn’t too cold and the air wasn’t thick with moisture. There was less smog than usual too. A nice Friday night for taking pictures of Gotham’s nocturnal inhabitants. Tim’s parents were due back next Monday so he wanted to get as many good shots as possible.
Which is exactly what Tim had finished doing when it happened. Between Kitt Avenue and Hingle Street, he slipped. It was almost embarrassing really, falling from the roof of a building that he had climbed dozens of times to get pictures of Batman and Robin. It was close enough to Crime Alley to find the vigilantes, but far enough away to be somewhat safe. He does have a few self-preservation instincts, though they seem useless at the moment. He didn’t even get the chance to scream, one second he’s standing on the roof looking through his camera lens the next he’s plummeting to the alleyway below.
Tim’s pretty sure he passed out before he hit the ground since he didn’t feel the impact of the dumpster on the head.
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It’s quite a shock when he wakes up since he was, ya’know, dead. Or at least he thinks he was, it was a ten-story building- but he couldn’t be dead because he’s awake. Tim lays there for a moment, in the alley, staring up at the morning sky. He checks in on the rest of his body and makes sure he’s all in one place and-
<Wait and dang second>, Tim’s eyes shoot open (wait- did he close them?) and he looks at the sky again, <it’s morning>, he thinks in a daze.
There’s a chuckle from somewhere nearby (in his head?), yes little one, a voice says warmly, it is.
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“So what you’re saying, is that you raised me from the dead because I’m important.” Tim is sitting in his room on an obnoxiously lovely Sunday morning. Why is it lovely? Tim’s unhappy and the sun is making it worse. Why is it sunny in the first place? It's Gotham.
Correct. She says
“And you’ve Inhabited my body because you... like me?” Tim’s getting a headache. After a thorough freakout in the alleyway, Tim had finally made his way back home, the voice in his head remained quiet until he got through his bedroom window when he promptly started another freakout.
Gotham- because it is Gotham, as in, the city, like the place Batman protects- sighs, yes Timothy, I don’t know why this concept is so hard for you to grasp.
“Because you’re Gotham!” A literal city! Tim jolts to his feet and paces around his room.
Yes, Tim, I know who I am.
“No! Like- I’m eleven! Why would you like me?” He’s getting frustrated, “You’re a city and from what you’ve said, you can inhabit anyone! Like a Governor or a cop! Even Batman! Somebody important!” Tim stops pacing and throws himself back onto the bed.
Yes. I could. Gotham is exasperated, if not annoyed. Her Holders commonly get confused when she suddenly pops into their heads so this is par for the course. It’s mostly like watching a kitten get endlessly confused as to why they keep hitting a wall when it's a glass window, but I like you.
“But why?!” Tim flops onto the ground in a starfish position and huffs, “I’m not that interesting!”
Timothy. And that’s one hell of an authoritative tone, it makes Tim sit up and listen, You follow around my protectors at night when your parents aren’t home you have foiled one of Riddelers plans simply by cutting two wires when even Nightwing couldn’t figure it out. To top that you would be top of your class and possibly ahead by two grades if you even tried. Oh, now Tim’s is tearing up and isn’t that stupid, he’s being complemented by the voice in his head and he’s going to cry because of it, I like you because you are smart and clever and when you make a decision nothing will stop you from carrying out your goal. None of that is uninteresting.
“Oh.”
Yes ‘oh’, now, go eat something. You haven’t eaten anything for almost a day. Besides, you deserve a snack for going through all this.
Yeah- cool, okay, a snack sounds nice. He can do that.
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“My parents are coming home tomorrow and I still have school,” Tim says in mild disappointment. He wants to have days of free time to study this new... thing.
Gotham hums, so they are and so you do.
“Are you going to be in my head forever now?”
Yes. I can talk to you as much as I want now, or I could leave you alone if you'd like.
“Awesome," he pauses, "How the heck does that work? It makes less sense the more I think about it."
You mean how can I give you privacy?
“Yes.”
Alright, imagine your mind as a house.
“Okay.”
In this house there are rooms. Right now, because you’re awake, you’re in the living room of that house, and because I’m talking with you, so am I. I can leave the living room and go somewhere else in the house to give you space, but I’ll still be in the house, so if you ‘shout’, were those finger quotes? How on earth did she say finger quotes, I’ll be able to hear you and find you.
“That.. kind of makes sense.”
Good. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to have someone talk back to me so I might be a little out of practice.
“You’ve done stuff like this before?”
Mhm, I’ve inhabited a few people before and the third Wayne born in my borders could hear me, I’ve got no idea why- wasn’t trying to inhabit anyone at the time, I think she was mad. Lovely girl anyhow- had a love affair when she was sixteen and ran away with a carpenter. Her father was ever so cross. Well, that’s… interesting. He takes another bite of his poptart before he freezes, a smile threatening to break out on his face.
“So,” Tim stretches the word.
Yees? Gotham imitates him teasingly.
“Does that mean you’d be able to help me cheat on my history test?”
Gotham laughs, I can certainly try.
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They continue like that through the rest of the day, with Tim asking questions (“Wait, do you know where the best spot is to take pictures of the bats?”) and Gotham answering them ( no, I don’t know, but what I do know is where their patrol brake spots are~ ).
Tims parents get home the next day while he’s is at school. They check in with him, have a nice dinner, and take Tim out to an arcade. Unknown to his parents, there is a fourth within their midst, making snarky comments and giving loving compliments to their youngest because god -Gotham?- knows he needs it.
His parents stay for a month before they’re called away to Japan for a business conference.
Tim continues on with his life, Gotham on his shoulder, giving him warnings when he’s chasing the bats and snarking his teachers at school.