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When the screen lights up, Jason honestly doesn’t know whether to be annoyed or laugh at the situation presented.
“Timmy!!” Dick cries with honest to god tears brimming in his eyes. “Are you okay?!?”
Tim just blinks, looking the most relaxed any of them have seen him in years before looking into the screen. “Uh, yeah? They’ve been pretty decent kidnappers, all things considered.”
A few police officers, shuffle behind the Wayne family unsurely.
“Don’t worry son,” Bruce said, frowning. “We’ll get to you soon.”
“No, it’s fine.” Tim yawns, waving them off and Jason balks “what do you mean it’s fine?!”
“Nah, like honestly I’m good. You guys do you.”
“Timothy.” Damian starts, clearly at the end of his patience. “You’ve been kidnapped. Now stop this petty tomfoolery and let us—I mean the police save you.” He immediately amended.
Tim, like the mature CEO he was, stuck his tongue out at him in response. “No.”
“I—Timothy!” Damian squawks, indignant as more of the police officers gave each other mirrored looks of confusion.
“Tim.” Bruce begins, restraining the strong urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he could feel a headache kicking in. But he wasn’t Batman right now. It wouldn’t do any good outing their identities in front of Commissioner Gordon and his task force. “Just—what are the kidnappers’ demands, son?”
He was growing severely more annoyed by the second over not being able to just track down his son through the bat computer. Of course, Tim had figured out a way to block the transmitters. He was brilliant but was never going to hear the end of it once he was back safely at the manor.
Strapped to the chair with his hands tied behind his back, Tim pouts, and his eyes are suddenly on someone who was obviously behind the camera trying to cohere Tim into doing a better job of acting like a terrified victim.
Tim watched, completely bemused as kidnapper one very animatedly pointed to the list of demands. Kidnappers two and three looking more and more distraught as the call continued. Jokes on them, He dealt with worse during the Wayne Enterprise board meetings.
“They want two million dollars, cash.” He drawls, rolling his eyes. “But don’t give them it. It’s bad PR.”
One of the policemen standing closest to Jason whispered to his co-worker. “Just how many times has he been kidnapped, exactly?”
“He was a Drake before right? Probably too fucking many to count.”
Commissioner Gordon gives them an unimpressed stare causing the two to immediately straighten up.
Snorting, Tim rolls his eyes before looking back at the screen. “Anyway, I’m fine. I’m getting fed three times a day and I don’t think I’ve had a normal sleeping schedule like this in years. Honestly, this is great.”
Dick looks like he’s about to bring in the waterworks again, so Jason immediately feels obliged to step in. “Stop being a brat repla—I mean, Timmers. you know damn well Alfred will have your head if you compare his food to the people who’ve kidnapped you.”
At that prospect, Tim immediately pales at the thought of irking Alfred’s ire and he bites his lower lip, an action that has Jason’s eyebrows raising comically to his hairline. “You don’t--….You already know exactly where you are, don’t you?” he asks, exasperation kicking in.
Dick snaps his head towards Jason and then back to Tim with wide eyes “You don’t—Timmy!!” he gasps once again, appalled.
They’re rewarded with Tim’s guilt-ridden expression.
Bruce immediately pieces everything together and resists the urge to facepalm. “…You know whose kidnapped you too, don’t you?”
Tim chooses this moment to start whistling innocently and Damian looks seconds away from blowing up. “This is absurd—Timothy! You will share your location and everything you know about this case with us at once, or so help me—”
“In my defence, this is the first vacation I got in years.” He drawls, “I mean, all I’ve been running on lately is coffee since I’ve been held up with all that workload from Wayne Enterprises—”
“Tim,” Dick begins, looking as if he wanted to pull his younger brother into one of his famous Dick Grayson embraces. “Buddy, when was the last time you ate before you got kidnapped?”
Tim blinks.
The family blink back.
Tim narrows his eyes, “I think Lucious bought me a Batburger meal before the press conference. Ugh and I got The Red Hood figure. Lame, I wanted Red Robin’s. Obviously I threw the Red Hood one into the trash.” That was a lie. It was on his desk next to the other Bat burger figurines he’d gotten.
“Listen here you little shit—”
“Boys!” Bruce’s voice booms and the two immediately quieten. Jason grumbling while Tim just pouts. Bruce heaves another sigh before looking into the screen sharply “The press conference was almost two weeks ago. Are you telling me up until your kidnapping you’ve only had coffee?!”
“Timmy!” Dick shrieks, aghast. “When you get home we’re having a feast! Jay, you better be home to help Alfred cook!”
Jason gawks “Why do I have to—”
“I’ll get started on a meal plan at once.” Damian contributes, solemnly.
Tim just stares into the distance like he’s in the office. “What even is my life right now.”
Jason thinks he’s absolutely had enough of this farce—he had shit to do, like patrolling Crime Alley and avoiding Dick’s valiant attempts at trying to get him to join family game nights.
“Alright, you know what? Demon, get Alfred in here.”
Bruce, along with commissioner Gordon blink owlishly at this while Damian nods, proceeding to leave the room to fetch his pseudo-grandfather.
The effect this statement has is met with Tim paling considerably through the screen. “No, wait—”
Jason wished he had a camera to record this momentous moment.
Dick actually looks as though he feels bad for their younger brother, sympathy written all over his face but understanding the severity of the situation enough to not kick up a fuss about it.
“No can do, baby bird. How do you think Alfred will feel if you decide to ditch another family dinner?”
“Quite right, Master Jason.” A voice pipes in from behind as Alfred descends down the stairs, Damian trotting behind.
Tim honest to god flinches, and Jason can’t keep the grin off of his face at how the tables have suddenly turned in their favour.
“Heeeeeey Alfie, I was just—"
“Just about to try and miss out on another family meal, I take it. Tell me, Master Tim. What did you last tell me you were going to do before I had bid you farewell for your early morning shift at Wayne Enterprises?”
Jason didn’t think it was possible, but Tim pales even more.
“Okay, I know I said I was going to clean my room, but prep for the next Gala started and Lucious needed me to confirm and go over the guest list, and—” Tim trailed off as common sense and the primal instinct to survive slapped him in the face.
“Master Timothy.”
Tim feels himself visibly gulp. Even Bruce takes a step back.
“You will assist the police and Commissioner Gordon, and then you will be promptly arriving for family dinner tonight. Do I make myself clear, young man?” Alfred asks icily, leaving no room for arguments.
“Yes, Alfred.” Tim squeaks out, and Jason can feel himself practically radiating glee like the perfectly acceptable little shit that he was.
Dick can’t help but wonder if the kidnappers are as baffled as the police are, seeing as they’ve allowed this conversation to go so far off the rails that it’s not even funny anymore.
The last thing they see is a black bag going over Tim’s head before one of the goons’ glares (Dick thinks they’re glaring anyway, they’ve got some bullshit wannabe clown mask on that isn’t nearly as terrifying as they think it is).
“Have the money sent by midnight, or the boy gets it.”
Needless to say, it’s not even five minutes after the transmission is cut off does Bruce receive perfect coordinates of Red Robin’s whereabouts as his tracker is mysteriously turned on.