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Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne is keeping a secret from his family. A big one. A gigantic ginormous huge one. His secret is…he was born as a meta. Ever since he was little he had the ability to peek into alternate dimensions. He refers to it as ‘glimpsing’, at least that’s what he calls it in his head, as he would never in a million years tell anybody about his power out loud, let alone get into the semantics of it all.
Tim likes to think he has a pretty good memory. He can remember back to when he was four or five, its hard to tell which year but he does remember the first time he saw that look in his fathers eyes. The first time he noticed his mother scowling at him. They weren’t what you’d call the most accepting people, especially not of metas. He remembers feeling like there was something wrong with him, like there is something wrong with him. Maybe the feeling would just go away if he finally told somebody, anybody, about his powers, but he can’t risk that. He can’t risk being seen for the monster he is. That’s something he remembers vividly, being called a monster. It only happened a few times, before he learned his powers were something to be hidden, before he learned that the glow of his eyes was something that was bad, before he realized there was something wrong with him.
He remembers one time his parents got into a fight, his Dad had said something about how his mom must have cheated on him because there was no way he would have a meta son. Well, he didn’t use the word meta, but you get the point. They argued for a while. Screamed and yelled. They must have gotten to an agreement at some point but Tim decided not to stay for the whole argument. He ran back to his room instead and tried to figure out what he could do to fix things. Of course, there was really only one solution to come up with. Just stop being different.
For as much as he remembered his parents, there was something in his childhood he remembered more. He remembered being alone. A lot. His parents were always off on holiday or working. And if they were home, they scarcely spent their time with him. He couldn’t recall to you a single birthday that his parents were even in the country for, let alone celebrated with him. His parents really only spent time with him in front of others so they’d look better in the eyes of the media. That’s why it was so important to them that he was ‘desirable’. But, being alone a lot just gives you more time to think he supposes. He remembers once thinking something along the lines of “Well, at least I have more time to fix myself”
He didn’t like using his powers, ever. But, sometimes something like that can be hard to control, especially when you're not willing to use them enough to hone them. He was usually fine, as long as he didn’t let himself get overly emotional or look at his own reflection. He learned to avoid mirrors, which wasn’t too hard with the messed up body image his mother insisted on drilling into his head, and to try not to look into reflective surfaces. He wasn’t really very successful in these things, but that was okay because he had quick reflexes. As soon as his powers activated, he’d look away from his reflection. As long as he didn’t let himself panic, he would have no problem getting his eyes to stop their faint glow. Another thing he learned was to cover his eyes when he felt strong emotions coming on. It became somewhat of a habit over the years. He became accustomed to sunglasses and keeping his feelings hidden. One of the big things he learned was that no matter how badly he might want to, he can’t share any of his feelings with anybody else. It's too risky.
No one can know.
When he was nine, he discovered Batman. He also just so happened to find that he had a completely unrelated passion for photography, that once again had absolutely nothing to do with Batman
He always was a pretty talented kid (you think it’d make his parents actually like him) so it really wasn’t that surprising he could stay hidden (After all, wasn’t that his whole childhood? Staying hidden away?) He used to follow Batman and Robin around, secretly taking pictures, the best of which he’d consider hanging on his wall (not in a creepy way!) It really wasn’t that hard to follow them around without either knowing (everyone but Tim would strongly disagree, but Tim wasn’t one to notice or own up to his own talents) He was also a very smart kid and he was a Flying Grayson Fan (perhaps because he was there for the…tragedy) so when he saw the Boy Wonder do Dick Grayson’s signature flip, one that had only ever been mastered by him, it really was not difficult to connect the dots. What can he say, he was a smart kid.
Following around Batman was fun, but it was also good for killing time. A nine-year-old boy, home alone all the time, almost always left to his own devices, he had to find something to do. And Batman turning out to be that rich guy next door? Total plus! So, now he also on occasion followed around Mr. Wayne and his ward, but he really only ever watched them from his house and he never took pictures. It wasn’t really the same and it left a different feeling in his chest. Watching Bruce Wayne actually hang out with his ward, actually spend time with him and have fun together. He could see them through his window sometimes, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Grayson and their Butler that he didn’t know the name of acting so…family-like
it left a heavy feeling in his chest
Eventually, Dick Grayson left to be Nightwing and Mr. Wayne got a new ward that was secretly Robin, but there was one thing about Batman that Tim would never forget. One very important thing.
Batman didn’t like metas.
Everyone knew it. There were no metas allowed in Gotham. They were dangerous and untrustworthy (though, I guess almost everyone is untrustworthy in the eyes of The Batman) Some nights that phrase would ring in his head all night long and keep him from sleeping, No Metas in Gotham
So, Tim simply wouldn’t be a meta.