Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One

Tim clutches the straps of his backpack as his feet stomp the powdery snow underneath his footsteps. Tim just got out of rehearsal for the school Christmas play (he’s a dancing Christmas tree) so even though Gotham is being blanketed by snowfall, the Gotham night is still filled with shadows and darkness.

Tim continues to run through the snow, his footprints almost immediately covered by new falling snow.

His mom has warned him not to run in the snow, but she’s not here right now. Jack and Janet are away on business in a tropical location. It’s such a super-secret location that Tim’s parents told little Timmy that they couldn’t even tell him where the world-renowned archaeologists were sent to. Tim nodded like an obedient child, and even before his parents pulled out of the driveway, Tim hacked into his dad’s email (Dad needs a stronger password) and found out that the “business trip” was a monthlong stay at a four-star resort in Jamaica. Tim’s mom even booked a few spa appointments in advance.

Tim continues to run through the snowy streets of Gotham and pretends he’s running across a sandy Jamaican beach. His backpack is heavy on his back, and his fingers are freezing through his gloves, but he can’t stop now, he’s on a mission. His mission: Deliver urgent intel to Santa Claus. Tim has important information, and it’s for Santa’s eyes only.

Last year, Tim’s kindergarten class was given the assignment to write a letter to Santa. The letter needed to include everything Tim wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas, and Tim’s teacher mailed all the letters from the class to Santa’s North Pole address.

Tim had been unprepared, so some things were left off the list, but all the important items were there. The number one item on the list – Tim ordered the Christmas Wishlist in order of importance – was a camera. Tim’s phone takes good pictures, but Tim was more than ready to upgrade to a real camera. His phone was great at taking pictures. His photo gallery is full of photos of sunrises, and sunsets, and flowers, and every school lunch because according to the internet, if you don’t take pictures of food and post them on social media, you’re not a true photographer.

So, Tim’s top ten Christmas Wishlist consisted of the highest end camera (Santa’s credit card is unlimited) and nine other camera essentials, including a waterproof camera bag, and a lens attachment to capture action shots. Tim has never seen Batman, Robin, Nightwing, or Red Hood, but if he did, he doesn’t want his only evidence to be a blurry photo.

Unfortunately, Santa did not get the letter, because Tim didn’t get anything that Christmas. His parents were away, and they forgot to leave presents. The only gift Tim got was from Mrs. Mac, his housekeeper. She knitted him a beautiful black sweater with the Bat-symbol on it. Tim hugged Mrs. Mac extra tight that day.

Tim is now in first grade, and he’s a whole year older and wiser (he’s six now), which means he isn’t going to make the same mistake as last year. His teacher this year announced that the class needed to write their letters to Santa, and Tim wasn’t going to mess it up this time. The letter must have been lost or intercepted last year, so Tim is going right to the Big Man himself this year.

Tim makes it to the city bus stop and the bus is already there. He races over to the bus, and he can’t believe his luck. Right in front of him on line is a woman that’s carrying a little girl on her hip, and struggling to drag a half-collapsed stroller up the stairs of the bus.

Tim gives the woman his biggest smile and does his best Robin impression when he says, “Let me help you with that ma’am.”

Tim isn’t quite strong enough to lift the stroller up the stairs himself, but it’s easy when he and the lady do it. The woman thanks him as they lift the stroller up the stairs, and when Tim smiles at the bus driver and swipes his card, the bus driver has no idea that Tim is an unaccompanied six-year-old traveling on public transportation. The city bus driver thinks Tim was helping his mom carry his little sister’s stroller onto the bus.

Tim sits next to his “mom” and “baby sister” and even helps the lady fully collapse the stroller. It folds a lot like an umbrella, so it’s not that hard.

Tim’s luck comes up a little short when his “family” gets off the bus one stop early. Tim needs to get to the mall, one stop later, but it’s only a minor setback. He exits the bus and helps the mother unfold the stroller so the little girl can climb inside. The task takes long enough for the bus to drive away, so Tim has successfully fooled the bus driver, but the mother knows Tim isn’t her child, and she asks him about his parents. Tim reassures the woman that his mom works in the deli that they’re standing in front of.

Tim crosses his fingers and hopes that the mom doesn’t want to meet Tim’s non-existent deli owner mother, and thankfully the heavy snow gives the slightly overwhelmed mom an excuse to just wave goodbye to Tim as he enters the deli.

Tim looks around the deli for a bit, and then when he knows that the coast is clear, he leaves, and starts the snowy trek to the mall. It’s only a half a mile away, so he shouldn’t be outside long enough for frostbite to set in.

When he gets to the front doors of the mall he’s shivering uncontrollably, and the blast of hot air when he enters is heavenly. He stands in the doorway, underneath the blowing jet of hot air for a minute, letting himself slowly defrost.

When he’s nice and warm, he steps fully into the building and heads straight toward the Photos with Santa section. Theater rehearsal ended at 5PM, and the bus ride didn’t take too long, but there’s still a good chance that Santa is done for the day.

‘Please, please, please be here Santa,’ Tim silently begs.

When he rounds the corner, he spots the Big Man in the red suit. Santa is still here! But he’s not sitting in his chair. He’s standing and drinking coffee, and the sign next to a giant candy cane pole is flipped to the side that says, ‘Santa is Closed. Ho ho ho, it’s time for him to go.’

“NO!” Tim yells, causing Santa to look in the direction of a child screaming in distress.

Tim runs full speed, stopping right in front of Santa’s photo set up.

Santa’s initial look of panic turns into a jolly smile.

“Ho ho hello,” Santa says, but Tim doesn’t have time for small talk.

“Santa,” Tim says, swinging his backpack off his shoulders and unzipping it, all in one quick motion. “I know you have to get back to the workshop, but I really, really need to talk to you. I’ll be quick. I promise. I’m the fastest reader in my class, so we can get done with this list of ten things in no time.”

Tim’s mom had taught him basic skills in business negotiation, and Tim hopes Santa is a reasonable man.

Santa crosses his arms over his chest and hums, “Now, how can I say no to that?” He leads Tim back to the Santa chair and sits down. “I’ve already packed up my candy canes on my sleigh, so I don’t have one for you, little fella.”

“Tim,” Tim says quietly, clutching his list in his hands. “My name is Tim.”

Santa pats his thighs.

“Alright Timmy, why don’t you sit on Santa’s lap, and we can go over this list really quick.”

Tim nods and walks up to Santa. He’s still gripping his list so after a quick nod of permission, Santa lifts Tim by the waist, and places him onto his knee.

 Santa is big, jolly, and warm, so Tim wants to give him a hug, but he’s not sure if Santa would like that, so he stays focused on his main objective. He rehearsed this next part on the bus.

“Hi Santa. I hope you had a nice day. It’s really snowy today, so I hope you get home safely. You work here every day until Christmas Eve, so you probably have a hotel for you and all your reindeers, but if you go back to the North Pole after work, please be careful. The lunch lady told me that we’re expected to have blizzard like conditions tonight. You need to pay extra attention to Rudolph’s nose so that you don’t get lost, sir.”

The corner of Santa’s eyes crinkle and his whole body shakes as he tips his head back and lets a booming laugh fall out. Tim joins him because he’s pretty sure that’s what he’s supposed to do.

When Santa finishes laughing, he wipes the corners of his eyes and chuckles a bit. “How old are you, Timmy?”

“Six.”

“I see. You are a very clever boy, Timothy.”

Tim scrunches up his nose, “I like Tim better than Timothy. Oh, I almost forgot, my full name is Tim Drake. My address, phone number, and email are on the list I wrote. You can have it for your files.”

“Ah yes. Tim Drake. I recognize your name from my Nice List. You’ve been a very good boy this year.”

Tim feels his eyes filling with tears, “Really Santa? Sometimes Mom and Dad say that I’m an ungrateful little brat, so I thought maybe I’d be on the Naughty List. It would’ve been okay if I really was on your naughty list because I was prepared to negotiate.”

Santa’s eyes go slightly dark, but it’s only for a second or two. Santa takes a deep breath (Tim’s guidance counselor calls it a grounding breath) and smiles.

“Alright Timmy, what can Santa get you for Christmas?”

Tim uncrinkles the list in his hands.

“Okay, Santa, I wanted to make it easy for you this year. I know you have elves making toys, but you also work at the mall, so you can buy all my toys in that store over there.”

Tim points to the electronic store before adding, with a giggle, “It’s cheating, but I won’t tell.”

Santa’s eyes get sparkly, and he hums, “You remind me so much of him.”

“Who?”

“The first little elf I invited into my workshop. His name is Ri- uh, Ricardo. Adopting him was one of the best decisions I ever made.”

Tim’s eyes grow wide, and he says each word slowly, “You… adopt… elves?”

There’s a look of panic on Santa’s face, kind of like he said something he shouldn’t have, but before he fixes the mess he made, a man with a deep voice yells, “Hands up, Santa. Do as I say, and the kid doesn’t get hurt. Understand old man?”

Santa moves his hands into the air slowly, and since Santa did it, Tim does it too.

“Don’t be scared, Timmy. Everything is going to be alright,” Santa reassures, “I promise.”

Tim nods back but he can’t stop shaking. This is awesome! Not only did he meet Santa Claus, but he’s also going to meet Batman!

***

Santa struggles against the ropes around his wrists, and rocks his chair, but Tim leans over from his own chair and keeps his voice low so the five guys with the guns don’t hear.

“Don’t worry, Santa. Batman is on his way to save us. Do you know Batman? He punches people in the face, but he’s still on the Nice List, right? He’s a good guy, so he can’t be on the Naughty List. If he’s on the Naughty List, it has to be a clerical error. Mom taught me what a clerical error means, and she told me if you don’t take care of those it can cost your company millions of dollars.”

Santa seems more focused on escaping the wrist restraints than getting business tips from Timmy. Something shiny in Santa’s hands catches Tim’s eye, and when he squints, he can see that the tiny shiny object is a knife.

When Tim looks back at Santa’s face, Jolly old Saint Nick winks as he secretly saws away at the ropes binding his wrists.

One of the gunmen cocks his gun.

“Did you hear that?” he asks, and points to one of the other gunmen. “Check the break room and make sure the rest of the people we tied up are still secure.”

“Sure boss.”

As soon as he goes to check, there’s the sound of fighting and then a garbled scream. There’s an eerie silence after that, and then three vigilantes charge toward Santa’s Wonderland.

Nightwing, Red Hood, and Robin are running at full speed with their weapons drawn!

Robin is running fast enough that his hood falls down. He leaps into the air and drop kicks one of the gunmen. His foot slams into the criminal’s chest and the back end of his sword collides with the man’s face, leaving him with a bloody nose and a massive headache.

Red Hood’s target is the guy Tim heard being called Boss. Red Hood charges the man – even though he’s being shot at – and knocks the gun loose. He grabs the guy by the neck and draws his own gun. His voice echoes through the metallic helmet and he points the gun at the man’s head.

“You messed with the wrong Santa,” he clicks off the safety, “And in the spirit of the holidays, Yippee ki-yay motherfu –”

“Hood,” Robin yells, “No head shots.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hood growls and shoots the man on the shoulder.

While Red Hood and Robin are fighting the group of kidnappers, Nightwing cartwheels over to Tim and Santa. He kneels down in front of Tim’s chair and smiles brightly.

“Hi there kiddo. I’m Nightwing. Are you hurt?”

Tim nods, “The ropes around my wrists are really tight, Mr. Nightwing. They hurt a lot.”

“You can just call me Nightwing,” Nightwing says, hopping behind Tim’s chair. “I’ll get you out of those ropes in a sec. Anything else hurt? Did any of the bad men hit you?”

“No one hit me or Santa. They pointed their guns at us, and it was scary, but I told Santa that Batman would come save us. Is Batman still in the car? Is he staying in the car because it’s really cold outside and he’s keeping it warm for you when you and Robin go back?”

Nightwing laughs as he finishes untying the knot, but a laugh isn’t a no, so Tim takes that as a yes.

When Tim is free, Nightwing gives his wrists a quick check, and then moves on to Santa.

Nightwing doesn’t untie Santa, instead he hops on his lap and kicks his legs happily.

“Santa. I have so many things on my list.”

Santa grunts, “You’re heavy, Wing,” but Nightwing ignores him.

“Look, Santa, I’ve been asking you for an elephant since I was eight and I have yet to see one under my tree. What’s the hold up? I’ve also asked for a life-time supply of Sugar Crunchy Flakes, because it’s my favorite cereal and the company discontinued it due to being unhealthy for kids, but your elves should be able to cook it in your massive North Pole kitchen and box it up for me. I’m not untying you until you agree to my demands, Stingy Claus.”

“Is this a shakedown?” Santa says chuckling.

Nightwing laughs so hard he almost falls off Santa’s lap.

Robin clears his throat, “Nightwing, your mission is to untie Santa Claus and the child, and then aid Red Hood and I if we require backup. No part of that plan includes sitting on Santa’s lap and demanding things.”

Red Hood walks over, which must mean the fighting is over, and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Santa’s granting Christmas wishes? Here’s one, kill the Joker. My old man doesn’t have the balls to do it, so maybe you do.”

“Hood,” Nightwing frowns. “Santa doesn’t kill, and watch your language. There’s a little kid here.”

“Whatever. Robin’s heard worse language.”

“You imbecile,” Robin says with a scowl. “Nightwing was clearly talking about the small child that was captured.”

“I’m Tim,” Tim says to the group of heroes. “I was telling Santa what I wanted before the guys with guns came in and tied us up.”

Red Hood tilts his head, “Let me get this straight. You were giving Santa your Christmas list and now Nightwing cut ahead of you in line? Nightwing sounds like a giant butthead. Anyway, this has been fun fam, but I’m out. I was just here to see Santa,” – he does the air quotes when he says the word Santa – “and make fun of the old man for getting himself kidnapped.”

Santa shrugs, still tied up and under the weight of Nightwing sitting on his lap. “I honestly didn’t think you’d come, Hood.”

“And miss the chance to make fun of you getting beaten by Two Face’s lowest tier henchmen? When you hit that panic button, I had to see it myself. I still can’t believe the whole team had to come rescue your ass.”

“Language,” Nightwing scolds, “And can you give Dad a break? He was just being careful so the kid wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Dad?” Tim says softly. “Your dad is Batman, but if you called Santa dad too, that means Batman and Santa are the same person. Batman, your secret identity is Santa Claus!”

Nightwing mutters under his breath, ignoring his language rule.

“This is absurd,” Robin says, stomping his foot. “Batman is not Santa Claus. There is no –”

Red Hood slaps a hand over Robin’s mouth, “Not in front of the kid, Robin.”

Nightwing has climbed off Santa’s lap and even though he hasn’t started untying Santa’s ropes, Santa’s arms are already free. Nightwing’s words are cautious, like he’s trying not to reveal something else important.

“This is really important, Timmy,” Nightwing says, kneeling down so he won’t tower over Tim. “You think that - ,” he starts over again, “ – you know that this is the real Santa and not um, not a person in a suit pretending to be Santa.”

Tim nods, and Nightwing looks over at Santa. The two of them have a silent exchange, and then Santa smiles at Tim.

“Well, it looks like you found out my secret, little buddy. I’m Batman and Santa, but you can’t tell anyone. It has to be a secret.”

“Yes Santa.”

“Good, now let’s go to the breakroom so the Bat team can free the rest of the people tied up, and we can return you to your parents.”

Tim looks at his feet.

“Mom and Dad aren’t back there in the breakroom. I came here alone.”

“What?” Nightwing gasps, “You came here alone? Batman, he said he came here alone.”

Santa puts a hand on Nightwing’s shoulder, but directs his words to Tim.

“Where are your parents?”

“Guatemala.”

They’re in a resort in Jamaica, but Tim knows it’s best to keep that a secret from Santa and Batman. Although Santa knows when Tim is sleeping and knows when he’s awake. Maybe he knows when Tim’s lying too. Batman is good at decoding lies too. Tim may have misplayed this.

Tim swallows hard, but Santa doesn’t call him out on his lie. Instead, his face scrunches up in confusion.

“I’m not sure what to do with you, Tim.”

“Father, he is compromised. We should let the League handle this.”

Nightwing puts a protective hand on Tim’s shoulder and whisper shouts, “The League of Assassins?”

“The Justice League,” Robin deadpans.

“No,” Nightwing says pushing down on Tim’s shoulder a bit more firmly. “He doesn’t know Batman’s other identity.”

Tim gasps, “You’re a third person, Batman?!”

Red Hood snorts, “I like this kid. Look, no one asked for my opinion, but Tiny Tim just got kidnapped and tied up at gunpoint. The last thing he needs is a bunch of the Justice League’s self-righteous goody two shoes interrogating him. I have a safehouse close to here, so I can watch the kid until all of you combine the one brain cell you share between the three of you and come up with an actual plan. I’ll keep on the helmet, so I don’t spoil any of our family secrets.”

Red Hood doesn’t wait for an answer and scoops Tim up and walks away. Tim feels like he might be getting kidnapped for the second time today, but this feels like a nice kidnapping. He leans his head on Red Hood’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

“I was a little scared,” he whispers.

“That’s okay, kiddo. You don’t have to be scared anymore. My safehouse has good heat, and I got cookies too.”

“Did Mrs. Claus make the cookies?”

“Nope, made ‘em myself.”

Tim’s eyes are closed, so the only indication that he’s outside is the immediate chill and the snowflakes falling on his hair. He shivers and he feels something warm being wrapped over him. The warm blanket smells like leather.

He hears the dull sound of a motorcycle motor buzzing before he drifts off to sleep.

***

Tim wakes up on a weird couch.

“Where am I?” he asks.

A man with a tin can sounding voice answers him. “You’re in my safe house. You passed out on my shoulder and missed the ride over here.”

Tim looks at the Red Hood, sitting on the couch next to him, and leans his head against the man’s chest.

“Is Santa coming back? I didn’t finish reading my list to him. Oh no. I think I dropped my list.”

Tim jumps up, but Hood puts a hand against the boy’s chest to steady him so he doesn’t freefall off the couch.

“Easy, kiddo. I saw the list on the floor when I carried you away. Saw your backpack too. I didn’t go through your stuff, but I unzipped the front section of your backpack and stuffed your Santa list inside. I did look at the list, though. You really love cameras and camera accessories, don’t you?”

“You sound like Darth Vader,” Tim says, snuggling back against Red Hood’s chest. “Why is your heart going so fast?”

Red Hood takes a deep breath, causing his chest to swell and take Tim along for the ride. When Red Hood exhales, his voice sounds extra tinny, “I don’t like criminals that hurt kids. Two Face knows that. And now I have to send him and his crew a message. I gotta do something that Santa aint gonna like and this all could have been avoided if Two Face just followed the fu- the freakin’ rules. And I’m trying to calm myself down so I don’t do something really, really stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Red Hood clenches his fists and closes his eyes.

Tim pats Red Hood’s chest.

“I know something that will make you happy again. Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them.”

Tim scoots off the couch and heads to his backpack. He unzips the main section and takes out his tree costume. It’s still packed in there from Christmas play rehearsal.

He shimmies into the costume. The tree costume is a giant felt tree with only Tim’s head sticking out through a hole. His arms are free, but they aren’t long enough to extend past the triangle points of the tree branches. It’s okay though. He only needs his feet to do the choreography.

“Okay, Red Hood-man. Open your eyes.”

“It’s not Red Hood-man, it’s just Red Hood,” he says.

A buzz of static comes from the helmet, which Tim assumes means Red Hood is laughing, and if Red Hood is laughing, that means his eyes are open.

“Okay, I’m going to start,” Tim says.

He taps his right foot in front and then switches to his left foot in front. He rocks side to side as he slowly turns around, counting in his head.

One…two… three… four… five

After a five-count, he repeats the toe taps, this time leading with his heel. He bends his knees, bobbing up and down. For his final move, he hops in the air and when he lands, he shakes his hips side to side, making the tree shake.

Red Hood is laughing hard enough that Tim can hear it through the static. Red Hood stands and claps his hands, which makes Tim bounce on his toes with excitement. He’s never gotten a standing ovation before.

He can’t bow in the costume, and his arms are too short for Red Hood to see him waving, so he hops up and down, hoping that it sort of looks like a bow.

Red Hood runs over to Tim and picks him up. His voice sounds out of breath from under the helmet.

“That was the cutest freakin’ thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, holding Tim up in the air.

“I knew it would work,” Tim giggles. “My drama teacher told me that when we do the play for real and everyone sees my tree dance, there won’t be a frowning face in the audience.”

“You’re gonna steal the show little Tim-o-tree. Come with me to the kitchen. I promised you cookies, didn’t I?”

***

Tim bites into his third chocolate chip cookie and hums. Red Hood doesn’t have a plate of cookies in front of him or a glass of milk because he’s still wearing his helmet. Tim had offered to close his eyes so that he could enjoy the milk and cookies too, but Red Hood said it was okay.

Tim smiles at Red Hood, showing off more cookie crumbs in his mouth than teeth. Red Hood snorts, and tosses a marshmallow. The mini marshmallow bounces off Tim’s forehead and Tim collapses into giggles.

The giggle turns into coughing because he still has a mouth full of cookie, and Tim reaches for his milk to prevent him from choking.

“Easy, Timbo.”

When Tim stops coughing, and guzzles down his milk through his straw, Red Hood leans back in his chair.

“I need to ask you a question cuz it’s important for me and the team to know what you know. Ya know?”

Tim nods, continuing to drink milk as if his life depends on it.

“So, it’s established that you know Bat-dad considers the team his family. When Nightwing called Santa, Dad, it’s because Santa and Batman are the same guy.”

“Yes,” Tim says, using a fist to swallow a belch. “Nightwing said that Batman is a third person, but I don’t know who that is. I didn’t think that Santa Claus was a hero costume, but my hand bumped into his belly, and it felt like there was a pillow in there, so now it all makes sense.”

Red Hood cups his hands around his nose and mouth, even though the helmet doesn’t have a nose part.

He sighs as he leads Tim back to the couch, so they can watch movies together. He turns on The Muppets Christmas Carol, and Tim is asleep before the first song.

The nap starts off good, but the memories of the mall are too fresh, and Tim’s dreams quickly turn to nightmares. Nightmares of guns, and shooting, and Santa lying on the ground bleeding.

Tim screams and wakes up with a start. His clothes are sweaty, his heart is racing, and the room he’s sleeping in is unfamiliar. He’s on a couch, and an unfamiliar blanket that he knows isn’t his is draped over him. All the lights are off, except for a dim light in the room behind him, which Tim thinks could be the kitchen. There’s a loud thud, like something heavy and metal was dropped when Tim screamed. Something metal, like a pot or a pan that Tim’s kidnaper can use as a weapon against him.

This only makes him scream louder, and his heart thumps louder in his chest. A third scream is cut off because he’s not getting enough air in his lungs to breathe any more.

Loud footsteps stomp toward him and Tim scurries to the edge of the couch. His back is right up against the arm of the couch, putting as much distance as he can between him and the stranger that’s approaching. He just woke up from a nightmare about the guys with the guns at the mall, but now that he’s awake, maybe the gunmen followed him and they’re going to hurt him.

He whimpers as a monstrous shadow from the doorway runs into the room. Tim tries to scream for help again, but nothing comes out. The tears burn as they slide down his face. The tears burn almost as badly as his throat, aching for oxygen.

The mystery monster comes right up to Tim. He’s huge and his head is completely red, but he’s holding up his hands like he isn’t angry, and he isn’t going to hurt Tim. Tim can’t be sure so he shakes his head and keeps trying to shout for help.

The monster keeps saying Tim’s name, and it sounds angry and scary, and Tim can’t stop shaking.

“You’re okay,” the monster says, but his voice sounds metallic and scary, and Tim shakes his head even faster.

Tim misses the next thing the monster says. When he can focus on listening again, the monster sounds like he isn’t talking to Tim.

“ – of course I fucking did. He’s hyperventilating and I need you to get the fuck over here, Wing, cuz I’m freaking the fuck out. He won’t answer me and he’s staring into thin – wait, I think he’s – Timmy? Timmy, can you hear me? Is my voice scaring you?”

The monster taps the side of his ear and his voice changes from a monster yelling in a tin can, to a clear voice, like Robin or Nightwing’s voice.

“Is that better?”

Tim nods because the monster sounds friendlier.

“Good, good.”

He lowers his voice to say, “Wing, get your ass over here. I need backup,” and goes back to normal volume when he talks to Tim. “You’re okay, Timmy. Breathe. You gotta breathe for me.”

Tim’s whole body is trembling, and he’s trying to do what the monster says, but it’s hard. He’s getting really dizzy too, so it’s hard to concentrate.

The friendlier monster takes two giant steps back, giving Tim some breathing room, even though he can’t breathe. The monster keeps his hands held up high and then lowers them to reach under his chin and take his head off. There’s another head under his original head, and Tim’s mind slowly fills in the pieces that the monster was wearing a helmet.

The monster under the helmet is a man in a mask like the ones Nightwing and Robin wear. Without the red helmet, the man looks like a hero. He lets the red helmet hit the floor with a clunk and takes really big breaths, filling his chest and then letting it all out.

“Breathe just like I am, Timmy. C’mon, copy me. Can you do that? C’mon. In through your nose. Big breath…” he pauses to take a deep breath, “… and then out through your mouth.”

Tim tries to do what the man is doing. The more controlled his breathing gets, the more everything around him sharpens into focus. After a few breaths, Tim looks down at the man’s trembling hand.

“No, kiddo. Keep looking up here at me. I need full eye contact, buddy.”

Tim looks up, and even though Tim doesn’t recognize the man’s face, he recognizes the brown leather jacket he’s wearing.

“Red Hood?” Tim says, but it sounds more like a bark, coming from a deep guttural part of his chest. The word hurts too.

“Yeah, little tree, it’s me. It’s Ja- uh, it’s Red Hood. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Nightmare… I had a nightmare… and now I feel all funny…” Tim wheezes.

“Yeah,” Red Hood says, pacing and running a shaky hand through his hair. He mumbles to himself, but Tim can still hear. “Damnit. What’s taking Wing so long?”

“My chest hurts,” Tim says softly.

Red Hood stops pacing so abruptly that he stumbles over his feet a bit. He runs over to Tim and drops down next to the couch. He puts his palm over Tim’s chest and moves in circles.

“Does that feel better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tim says, letting out a content sigh.

“Good. My, uh, my mom did this for me when I was little. I had a really bad chest cold, and we couldn’t afford the doctor, so, yeah.”

After a few helpful chest circles, Tim sits up and launches himself at Red Hood.

“That was so scary,” Tim sniffles against Red Hood’s shoulder. Red Hood makes the same soothing circles along Tim’s back as he did on Tim’s chest and reassures him that he’s safe.

Everything is calm for a while, until Tim feels the Red Hood tense under him. Tim hears footsteps and tenses too.

“It’s just Wing and Robin, kiddo,” Red Hood says softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The footsteps come to a stop. Tim peers over to look at the friendly intruders.

Nightwing is smiling, but it’s one of those fake smiles that Tim learned how to do when his parents dragged him to boring parties. He’s only been to three parties in his life, but his mom forced him to take etiquette classes for the past year, and Tim has already perfected the “gala smile.”

He gives Nightwing his best gala smile back, but it makes Nightwing flinch. Tim smiles harder and Nightwing winces.

Before Tim can disturb Nightwing any further, Robin clears his throat.

“Is Drake still in danger?”

“Hi, Robin,” Tim waves.

Robin raises an eyebrow and answers with a terse, “Hello. It is good to see that you are well. Red Hood was quite concerned over your respiratory distress.”

“Are you an elf, Robin?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You don’t wear green elf shoes like Nightwing did when he was Robin, or the second Robin that died did, but Santa told me that the first elf he adopted was Nightwing.”

Tim knows that Santa said Nightwing’s name is Ricardo, but he doesn’t mention it because Santa probably wasn’t supposed to say that, and he doesn’t want to get him in trouble. Instead, he continues to question Robin.

“Do you have a graduation when you change your costumes like I did when I went from kindergarten to first grade?”

“First of all, I am not an elf,” Robin says, scowling. “I can understand how you would make that assumption based on Nightwing’s prior Robin suit. I was told that the suit had sentimental significance, which I respect, but the attire was still ill equipped for the optimal nightly combat that a vigilante such as myself performs. An upgrade was the necessary evolution, but there was neither a cap nor a gown required for that process.”

Tim holds his arms open.

“Can I have a hug, Robin?”

“Tt. I can’t see why not,” Robin says, and balances Tim on his hip to give him an effective hug. While Tim is getting his hug, Robin speaks softly, against his ear. “Are you feeling alright, Timothy? Red Hood and Nightwing were very worried.”

Tim pulls back, so that he can look at Robin.

“Were you worried about me too, Robin?”

Robin nods. “I was very worried, Timothy, but I knew that if Red Hood was looking after you, you were in extremely capable hands. I trust Red Hood with my life. Now, let us raid the kitchen and see what we can find. I have not had dinner yet.”

Tim is happy to be carried back into Red Hood’s kitchen again because it means he can have more cookies and marshmallows. Tim plays with Robin’s hood while Batman’s sidekick searches the cabinets.

“What is the meaning of this? There is nothing in this kitchen except cookies, marshmallows, and hot chocolate mix. I had been told that Red Hood had a love for cooking. Apparently, that information was a lie. You clearly have nothing of substance in your kitchen, Hood.”

“This aint my house,” Hood says, hopping off the couch, and taking the two long steps necessary to move from the living room into the kitchen. “This is one of my many safehouses. A safehouse that I will have to burn now that two-thirds of the Bat team know about it. I don’t use it much. The last time I was here, Arsenal brought his daughter, so that’s why snack food’s the only food on the menu.”

Robin shifts Tim on his hip so he can open the fridge. He takes out a glass of milk and Tim leans on Robin’s shoulder.

“Milk is Santa’s favorite drink. Is it your favorite drink too, Robin? Does Santa save some of the milk and cookies he gets from all the houses so he can give it to you and your other elf brothers?”

“I am not an elf,” Robin says, while pouring the milk into a glass.

Tim thinks that over for a second and then uses his finger to trace the R symbol on Robin’s suit.

“I wanna ride in the sleigh.”

“We do not have a sleigh.”

“I wanna meet Rudolph. Can I meet him, please?”

Robin sighs, “A little assistance, Hood?”

Red Hood snorts, as he leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, this is interesting. You’re a literal assassin that slices men in half with your sword, yet the kid asks you about Rudolph and all of a sudden, you’re looking at me like a reindeer caught in headlights.”

“Tt. Do not be dramatic. I just do not want to misspeak and perhaps say something that…”

“That what? That might extinguish the light of hope and Christmas joy in a tiny child’s eyes?”

Tim scrunches up his face, “If I can’t meet Rudolph the red nosed reindeer and I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I have more cookies and some hot chocolate?”

Nightwing calls out over his shoulder, “If you’re making hot chocolate can I have a coffee? No milk. You know why, but you can toss in some marshmallows.”

Robin asks for tea, and Red Hood mumbles something about this not being a restaurant. He opens the cabinet to take out the mugs for the tea, hot chocolate, and coffee, but as he reaches for the first mug, he freezes, and he glances over his shoulder toward the front door.

Whatever he sees makes him frown and grind his teeth.

“Whether you come down the chimney or walk through the front door, it’s still B&E, Old Man.”

Tim turns so fast that Robin almost drops him.

“Santa! SANTA!” Tim squeals.

Santa Claus is standing in the doorway, wearing his red fuzzy suit, and his long white beard. He’s taking up the entire doorway, so Tim can’t see if his sleigh is parked outside behind him.

Two

This is Tim’s second encounter with Santa, but meeting the man for the second time isn’t any less magical. He tries to squirm out of Robin’s arms, but Robin is holding on extra tight after almost dropping him.

Red Hood continues to scowl, but mumbles, “You want hot chocolate, Claus?”

“I would very much like hot chocolate, Hood.”

Red Hood huffs, “God, why you gotta be so weird about it?” and goes back to pulling down mugs from the cabinet.

Santa walks into the kitchen, his black boots with the gold buckles making his footsteps heavy. After a few clunk, clunk, clunks, Santa is in arms reach, so Tim stretches his arms out. Robin passes Tim off to Santa, and Tim looks up at the man that is both Santa and Batman (and another third person that Tim doesn’t know yet, but really hopes he can find out).

Tim’s head is tilted, staring at the man, the myth, and the legend, with awe and admiration, but mainly he’s just staring at the man silently. Tim’s silent reverence gives Santa a chance to check-in with his elves.

“How much does he know?” Bat-Santa asks. He doesn’t sound jolly. Tim hopes Santa isn’t mad at him.

Red Hood shrugs, “He knows you’re the Bat and he knows you’re Santa, but doesn’t know any of our identities outside of our suits.” He’s not yelling, but he’s crushing the bag of marshmallows in his hand while staring Bat-Santa down.

Santa nods once and carries Tim into the living room. He sits on the couch and positions Tim on his lap. Nightwing is still lounging on the couch, so Tim gives one of his favorite superheroes a smile.

“When I’m done giving Santa my list, you can have a turn, Nightwing. Wait, does Santa give elves presents?”

Hood yells from the kitchen, “Hell no. If the old man gave me what I really wanted the Joker’s head would be on a –”

The rest of the sentence is muffled, and Tim can hear Robin say, “Shhh.”

Santa clears his throat and gets down to business.

“Alright, Timmy, I’m ready for your list.”

“My list is in my backpack. It’s not long, but everything I want is on it. Red Hood made sure I didn’t lose it. He picked it up after our kidnapping. Remember when we got kidnapped, Santa?”

Santa winces and nods. Tim wonders if Santa is going to have a nightmare about the kidnapping like he did.

Nightwing brings the backpack over to the couch, and Tim’s list is in his hands.

“This is a good list, but you can combine some of these things, freeing up room on the list to ask for more stuff,” Nightwing says, rubbing his chin. “Like, right here, you have a new camera listed as number one, but number two is a camera case. You can put the camera and the case both as number one.”

Nightwing hands Bat-Santa the list. Tim holds his breath as Jolly Old Saint Nick reads over his list. When Santa squints while reading, Tim crosses his fingers. The elves make all the toys for good little girls and good little boys, but nothing is mentioned about electronics. If the store in the mall is out of stock, and Santa has to get everything online, he might not have enough time to get all the things on Tim’s list.

Santa’s taking too long to read, so Tim rubs Santa’s velvety arm.

“If you can’t get everything, I’ll still love you, Santa. I really do need some of the things, but it’s my fault that I didn’t expedite the list.”

“Expedite,” Nightwing says slowly.

“It means to do something quickly.”

“I know what it means,” Nightwing says with a laugh, “I just didn’t think a little munchkin like you would know what it meant.”

“Dad said it when he was yelling on the phone at his businesspeople. I asked him what it meant, and he told me. That was a long time ago.”

Santa’s full attention shifts from Tim’s list to Tim.

“Your parents haven’t been home for a long time?” he asks.

Tim presses his lips together, realizing his mistake.

“I have a few questions to ask you about your parents,” Santa says, using his Batman voice.

“I-I don’t – I can’t – um, I don’t want to talk about that,” Tim stammers, twisting the bottom of his shirt.

Red Hood appears with the drinks. He sits the drinks on the coffee table and mumbles, “Jesus, Dad. It’s like you’ve never talked to a kid before.”

Red Hood gets Tim’s attention.

“Hey, kiddo, we need a few answers, just to make sure that everything checks out with your folks, and you’re not in any danger. Interrogations are a little scary, so we can make it a game instead. Every time you answer a question, I’ll give you another marshmallow for your hot cocoa. Anything you don’t want to answer you can just say pass. How’s that sound?”

Red Hood passes Tim a mug of hot chocolate with a generous amount of marshmallows in it already. He can’t even imagine how much better it will taste with more marshmallows.

Tim eagerly nods his head.

Red Hood plunks in a marshmallow and winks, “That was technically my first question, so you get one.”

Tim is beaming, and Red Hood continues.

“Before we start, I want to make one thing clear. Batman can spot a lie a mile away. You can’t lie to us and say that you live in a candy house, and your mom is fattening you up so she can toss you in the oven, just because you think Santa will adopt you and make you his newest little elf.”

“My mom isn’t the witch from Hansel and Gretel,” Tim giggles. “That’s my favorite story. I like the part when they push the witch into her own oven,” Tim says with more giggles.

Red Hood laughs along with Tim and then gets more serious.

“Alright, buddy. Let’s start. When was the last time your mom and dad were home?”

“Three months ago.”

Red Hood plinks another marshmallow into the mug.

“Do they leave on trips a lot?”

“It’s not a trip. They have really important dinosaur business. They go away for a couple of months, and then come back for a day or two, and then they leave again for another couple of months.”

Plink

“Who watches you when they go on their dinosaur business?”

“Mrs. Mac. She’s our housekeeper.”

Plink

Red Hood takes a deep breath before the next question.

“She let you go to the mall alone? Why wasn’t she there to pick you up from school?”

“Um…” Tim doesn’t want to lie, but he knows he can’t tell Red Hood that Mrs. Mac is visiting her family in California, and she left Tim with a ton of food in the fridge and made him promise to video chat with her every day.

Tim settles on, “It’s Mrs. Mac’s day off.” He leaves off the part that it’s also her day off for the next two weeks.

Red Hood tilts his head to look at Santa and after Santa gives him a quick head shake, another fluffy white marshmallow is added to Tim’s mug.

Plink

“Last question,” Red Hood says with a smirk. “You wanna stay here for the night, and I’ll drop you off for school tomorrow?”

“YES!” Tim shouts loud enough that it makes Red Hood jump. He drops the bag of marshmallows, but Nightwing is there to make sure they don’t fall.

“These are mine now,” he says, stuffing a few in his mouth.

“I hope you choke and die,” Red Hood scowls, elbowing Nightwing, causing his brother to cough.

“Boys, behave,” Santa says in his Batman voice. He goes back to using his Santa voice when he looks at Tim.

“Now, let’s go over this list. What exactly is a Raystar Vista 3 camera stabilizing vest?”

Tim takes a sip of hot chocolate with extra, extra marshmallows, and smiles over the rim of the mug.

“I’m glad you asked, Santa. It’s only the coolest, bestest thing ever. I can wear the vest, and it has straps so it’s adjustable, and when there’s a lot of wind or rain or a big storm, I can still take pictures and they won’t get blurry. If you buy me that and also the night vision lens, which is number five on the list, I can take pictures when it’s night and when there’s a massive storm.”

“Why would you need to take pictures at night or during a massive storm?”

“Pass.”

***

Batman and Robin left for patrol an hour ago, but Nightwing stayed. Red Hood pretended to be mad about it, but he didn’t kick Nightwing out, so that means he’s only fake-mad. He did get real-mad when Nightwing ordered pizza delivery, because as Red Hood put it, “What moron has a pizza delivered to a secure, off the grid safehouse?!”

Nightwing just laughed and told Red Hood that he was just mad because the pizza guy was going to know that Red Hood likes his pizza topped with anchovies and bananas. Nightwing was then warned that if a pizza arrived and Red Hood found even one morsel of fruit or fish, he would deserve every ounce of violence that came upon him.

Lucky for Nightwing, Tim and the two superheroes are eating a fruit-less, fish-less pizza, and munching on popcorn, while watching movies.

Tim is trying as hard as he can to stay awake, but it’s so warm and comfortable, snuggling against Nightwing’s side. Tim’s eyes are getting really heavy, and he yawns over the sound of gunshots coming from the TV. He was allowed to pick the movie from the Netflix list of Christmas movies, and since he likes action movies, he picked Diehard because it sounded fun. Nightwing had tried to talk him out of his choice, but Tim won the argument, and before Tim got too tired to pay attention, it was the coolest movie he had ever seen in his entire life!

Tim yawns again, and snuggles closer against Nightwing’s side, causing Nightwing to hum.

“Little Wing, I think the baby bird is getting sleepy.”

Red Hood stands from the couch, shifting the cushions enough to make Tim have to cling onto Nightwing so he doesn’t fall off the couch.

“Bedtime, little snowball,” Red Hood says, scooping Tim up with one hand.

Tim giggles as Jason plunks him onto his shoulder.

“I’m not a snowball,” Tim says using his new position on Red Hood’s shoulder to pet the man’s hair. “You’re the snowball. You have a patch of white hair.”

“That’s because I’m an actual snowman. After midnight, I can transform into a complete snowman if I want to.”

“Really?!” Tim squeals.

“No,” Red Hood says with a laugh. “I forgot that teeny tinies like you and Lian believe everything I say.”

“Who’s Lian?” Tim asks, still petting the soft puff of white in Red Hood’s bangs.

“No one. Don’t think about it too hard.”

Red Hood tosses Tim on the bed so hard that Tim bounces, leading to uncontrollable giggles.

“Do it again,” Tim squeals.

“No kiddo, it’s time to get ready for bed. I shouldn’t be winding you up. Don’t give me that pouty face. You got school tomorrow. You can’t sleep in what you’re wearing ‘cuz it’s gonna get all wrinkly. You can wear one of my shirts. It’s your only option ‘cuz the only kiddie size thing around here is an Ice Princess dress that Li left behind the last time she was here.”

“I wanna be Elsa,” Tim says, bouncing on the bed.

Nightwing snorts from the door, “Jack Drake would have an aneurism if he knew you put Timmy in an Elsa dress.”

Red Hood walks to the closet.

“Fu– screw Jack Drake. The kid’s Elsa tonight.”

The Elsa princess dress fits Tim really well, so whoever Lian is, she must be the same age as Tim. Tim doesn’t have any friends at school, so he’s going to ask if he can meet Lian, but he falls asleep before he can.

He automatically wakes up in the middle of the night, like he always does so he can check the front door to make sure it’s locked. He gets scared when he’s alone at Drake Manor, so he checks every night.

He hops out of bed, and tiptoes out of Red Hood’s bedroom. He passes Red Hood sleeping on the couch and does a quick check to make sure he isn’t a snowman.

Nightwing is sleeping on the floor right next to the couch. He also isn’t a snowman.

Tim checks the front door. It’s like the one he has at home, except for the three deadlocks bolted to it. He smiles when the knob doesn’t turn, proving that it’s locked.

Tim’s next stop is back to the couch. He fixes the blanket, so that it’s covering Nightwing and whispers to the sleeping hero, “I’m only fixing this once, so don’t kick off your blanket again.”

A noise that sounds like a snort comes from the couch, but when Tim looks over, Red Hood is snoring. Tim moves to the task of fixing Red Hood’s blanket and whispers, “Are you awake?”

“No,” Red Hood whispers back, with his eyes still closed.

“Liar,” Tim says, poking Red Hood’s chest.

Red Hood cracks an eye open. “Maybe I’d still be asleep if a certain little somebody didn’t walk to the front door and turn the knob like he was going to escape. You legit almost gave me a heart attack. I was about to leap off this couch. Then I remembered that the deadbolts are too high for you to reach, and I calmed back down.”

Tim plays with the edge of Red Hood’s blanket with his fingers.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I always check the door at home to make sure it’s locked. There’s a lot of scary monsters that can get inside if you leave the door open.”

Red Hood sits up slowly and keeps his voice low.

“I think Wing’s asleep for real down there so we should have this conversation in my room. And then you’re going to sleep, ‘cuz it’s way past your bedtime.” When Tim pouts, Red Hood adds, “It’s past my bedtime too.”

Tim takes Red Hood’s hand, and they walk back to the bedroom.

When Tim is plunked back on the bed, Red Hood asks him about any monsters that Tim was afraid of that were ever in Drake Manor, even monsters that were there when Jack and Janet weren’t out of town. Tim tells Red Hood about one of his dad’s business friends. The man always makes Tim feel funny when he looks at him, and he carries a gun.

Red Hood gives Tim a hug, “Thank you for telling me, Timmy. I’ll have Batman and the team look into it.”

Tim hugs Red Hood back. He’s not going to tell the others, but Red Hood is his favorite elf.

Red Hood hugs Tim for a long time, and then tucks him back into bed. He reaches out his hand, and Tim thinks he’s going to ruffle his hair, but instead he reaches behind Tim’s ear and pulls out a marshmallow.

“You get one of these every time you answer one of my questions,” Red Hood says with a smile.

“How? How did you do that?”

“Robin gives me magic.”

Tim nods, his mouth hanging wide open.

“A magic snowman,” Tim says slowly.

Red Hood answers with a loud belly laugh, but he covers his mouth with his hand because he doesn’t want to wake up Nightwing in the other room.

“Can you stay with me tonight?” Tim asks softly, chewing his marshmallow.

“Yeah, kiddo.”

Red Hood walks over to the closet and slides down to the floor, so that the closet is at his back. He leans his elbows on his knees.

Tim closes his eyes and starts to form a new plan.

There are some things he can cross off his Christmas list so he can replace them with things for Santa to give to Robin, Nightwing, and Red Hood. He can’t give the new list to Red Hood to give to Santa. Red Hood would definitely look and ruin the surprise.

This means that Tim is going to have to deliver the message directly to Santa. He doesn’t have drama rehearsal, so he can head to the mall and talk to Santa earlier than he did today. If he’s successful, it will be his third meeting with Santa, and the last one he can schedule before Christmas. He has to make it count.

Chapter Text

Three

Tim squeezes the straps of his backpack, knowing that his revised Santa Wishlist is tucked safely inside. The school day is over, and all of the students are pushing to get outside and start their Winter Break as soon as possible. A few teachers are trying to tame the chaos, but Gotham Elementary already has Holiday Fever and the only cure is to run outside in the snow and scream and shout like a wild animal.

Tim is tiny so he can dodge and weave through the crowd. He squeezes through a small opening and tumbles out of the door. Most of the cheering students are the older kids, so when one boy sees Tim on his hands and knees, sprawled out on the snow, the boy helps Tim to his feet and offers to walk him to the school bus.

Tim shakes his head.

“Thanks, but I’m okay. My mom picks me up. Her car is over there.” He points in the general direction of the car pick up area, but before the boy leaves, Tim smiles, “My name is Tim. I want a camera for Christmas.”

The boy pats Tim on the head. “I’m Troy, and I hope you get that camera, Timmy.”

“Did you ask Santa for anything?” Tim asks.

“Videogames. There’s a new game that has haunted killer robots at a pizzeria. It’s a little too scary for little kids like you.”

Tim waves goodbye to Troy and makes sure to study him as closely as possible. His pencil is in his backpack, so instead he takes his phone out of his pocket, opens the notes app, and holds the speaker part close to his mouth.

“Note to myself. I need to change number ten on my list to a videogame about haunted killer robots. I don’t know Troy’s last name or his address to give to Santa, but he saved me, so he needs to get the toy he wants. I need to tell Santa that Troy is really tall, and he smiles, and he helps people. He has brown hair, and brown eyes, and he’s wearing a puffy dark green coat, and if I had an extra spot on my list, I would ask for that coat because it looks really warm. He’s wearing jeans and black and white sneakers, like the cool kids wear, and he doesn’t have a hat.”

Tim puts the phone back in his pocket and nods. That should be enough for Santa to know who Troy is. A couple of months ago, Tim went to a fancy fundraiser with his mom and dad and there was a man posing as a waiter, who was pickpocketing everyone’s jewelry and wallets. The police questioned everyone, and even though no one knew his name, the police still caught him. If Santa can’t figure out who Troy is from Tim’s description, maybe Santa can ask the police.

The path to the city bus stop is in the opposite direction of the line of cars of parents waiting to pick up their children, so Tim turns on his heel, and starts to walk. He hasn’t even taken one step (he’s literally mid-step) when he hears a car horn, and a man with a fancy voice call out over the wind and snow.

“Master Timothy,” the man says.

Tim turns to face the man and squints to see. It’s Mr. Bruce Wayne’s butler sticking his head out of the window, motioning with his arm for Tim to come over to his car. Tim has never formally met Alfred Pennyworth, but the Wayne family are his neighbors, so he knows a little bit about him.

Alfred’s car is a couple of cars away from him, so by the time Tim reaches it, Tim has a good deal of snow on his coat and hair. Alfred has a few snowflakes in his hair, but it’s harder to tell because his hair is white. Tim wonders if Alfred is a snowman, like Red Hood.

“Master Timothy, it appears you were headed in the direction of the city bus. Might I offer you a ride home instead?”

Tim shivers and shakes his head. “Um, thank you sir, but my housekeeper Mrs. Mac is picking me up.”

Alfred opens the passenger door and Tim sits to get away from the snow, but he’s not going to ride home with Alfred. He doesn’t want to inconvenience the man.

“I see,” Alfred says, giving Tim a suspicious look. “Unless your housekeeper drives the city bus, I think you are not being truly honest with me.”

Tim is still shivering from the cold, but his face feels like it’s on fire. He’s not really good at lying, so he comes clean.

“Mrs. Mac doesn’t drive the bus. No one is here to pick me up, but that’s okay because I have an errand to run at the mall. I need to give Santa my new, updated list. I gave him my list yesterday, but I made some changes, but tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Santa doesn’t work at the mall on Christmas Eve, so this is my last chance to do it.”

Tim bites his lip, trying not to cry. He doesn’t want to cry, but this is really important, and Santa needs to know what toys to get for Red Hood, Robin, Nightwing, and now Troy.

Tim flicks his finger against the heat vent so it’s directly on him. Hopefully, Alfred won’t be too mad that he lied, and then he can leave the car and wait for the next bus. It’s a good idea to soak up as much heat as he can.

Alfred turns up the heat and drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

“It just so happens, Master Timothy, that I have a few errands that I must attend to at the mall as well. I was supposed to pick up Master Damian from school, and we were both supposed to head straight for the mall, but moments ago, Master Richard informed me that he had already picked up the young sir earlier. I am sure that Master Damian is not the slightest bit upset that he will not be accompanying me during the shopping, he is not a fan of shopping, but it would be a great help if I had someone to assist me. I would be ever so grateful if you would help me with my tasks after your conversation with Santa. After which, I can drop you home.”

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” Tim says, using his finger to flick the air vent open and closed.

“You live next door. It would be no inconvenience at all.”

“Okay,” Tim glances from the vents to Alfred. “Do you um, do you want to hear my list?”

“I would love to.”

***

The mall is more crowded than Tim had thought it would be. As he approaches Santa’s Photo Area, he holds his list in one hand, and he holds Alfred’s hand with the other.

When the two reach the area with Santa, there’s a huge line. There are also two giant bodyguards next to Santa’s chair. They weren’t there yesterday when Tim and Santa got kidnapped. Tim is happy to see that the people who run the mall are keeping Santa safe, even though he’s Batman.

Tim squeezes Alfred’s hand and bounces on his toes.

“I need to talk to Santa about a few things and it might take a long time, but I think if I wait on the line, I’ll only be able to talk to Santa for like, a few seconds. Maybe I should have made an appointment.”

Tim feels his eyes start to fill with tears. Alfred lets go of Tim’s hand and kneels down, holding Tim by the shoulders gently.

“I am the Wayne family’s butler, and it just so happens that scheduling appointments is my specialty. Come with me.”

Alfred leads Tim to a section off to the side of the line. It’s close enough to Santa to get the man’s attention. Santa smiles for a picture with two twin girls on each knee. When the girls hop off and run back to their mom, squealing with happiness, Alfred gets Santa’s attention. Santa looks at Alfred, and then at Tim. He stands and whispers something to the bodyguard next to him.

He waves Alfred over and Alfred smiles down at Tim.

“Wait right here,” Alfred says, letting go of Tim’s hand. “I will schedule the appointment for you.”

Alfred walks over to Santa and Tim holds his breath. Santa’s a busy man. He really hopes that Santa has space on his calendar to talk to Tim later.

Santa and Alfred are deep in conversation, but after a few moments, Santa laughs and nods vigorously. He puts a hand on Alfred’s shoulder and bends down, whispering something in his ear. Alfred laughs at whatever Santa said, and he’s still smiling as he makes his way back to Tim.

Tim is practically vibrating on the spot. His voice is shaking too.

“You’re smiling. Does that mean Santa had room for me on his calendar?”

“He does indeed,” Alfred says, not letting the smile slip from his face. “He will be free to speak to you at the end of his shift. That gives us enough time to finish shopping. As you know, I am the Wayne family’s butler, but I am also a father and a grandfather to those boys, so I must fulfill that role and buy presents for each of them.”

If Tim could do a backflip, he would be doing one right now. He’s never helped buy presents for anyone before and just the thought of helping pick out presents for his neighbors is super exciting.

He helps pick out sweaters for Bruce, art supplies for Damian, a cool leather jacket for Dick, and cooking supplies for a son named Jason, that Tim doesn’t know. Tim has only seen Damian and Dick at the house, but he doesn’t want to be rude and ask questions about Jason. His mom once told him that when Mrs. Blackwell’s secret son was exposed on TV it made Mr. Blackwell really mad. Mad enough that he got a different wife. Tim’s mom called it a huge scandal. Tim doesn’t want the Wayne family to have a huge scandal. Especially this close to Christmas.

When Alfred and Tim finish shopping, they head to the gift-wrapping station to have everything professionally wrapped. The line is long, but Tim spots the video game section right across from them and begs Alfred if he can go and look.

The videogame section is close enough that Alfred can still see Tim, so he lets him go. Tim makes a beeline for the videogames, and he spots the one with an evil looking Teddy bear robot and a Pizza place on the cover.

He picks up the game and cheers. This is the one that Troy wants. He can give it to Santa to save him time, and Santa can pack it directly into his great big bag and put it in his sleigh immediately.

His happiness sinks when he realizes that he’s holding an empty display box, and the real games are up on a higher shelf that he can’t reach.

He stands up on his tippytoes and stretches his arms to the max, but he isn’t even close. He changes his technique to jumping. His fingertips graze the edge of the box when he jumps, and he tries again and again. On his third jump he hits the box, and it wobbles but doesn’t fall.

A voice behind him says, “Careful kiddo. Let me get that for you.” The tall stranger easily grabs a copy of the game, but then he looks at the cover and whistles. “Whoa kiddo. This game is a little intense for a little bean like you.”

The stranger looks at Tim and freezes, like he’s looking at a ghost.

Tim looks up at the tall man and the first thing he notices is a patch of white in the man’s hair. Tim gasps.

The stranger looks up toward his hair and then winces, “This is bad.”

Tim is hopping up and down at this point.

“Oh my God! You have a white patch in your hair like Red Hood. That must mean you’re a big fan of his, and if you saw him without his red metal hat on, it means you work for him.” Tim lowers his voice to a whisper, “Me and Red Hood are friends. Are you his friend or are you his sidekick, like how Robin is Batman’s sidekick?”

The stranger just stares back at him, squeezing the videogame box tightly.

Tim knows he shouldn’t talk to strangers, but if this is Red Hood’s friend then he’s a good guy. Red Hood’s number one rule is that he doesn’t hurt kids, so his friend/sidekick won’t hurt kids either. So, Tim introduces himself.

“My name is Tim. What’s your name?”

The stranger glances over in Alfred’s direction and then looks back at Tim and shrugs, “Jason.”

Tim’s eyes go wide, and he whisper shouts, “The Secret Son!”

“The what?”

“Your Mr. Wayne’s secret son, Jason. Alfred told me about you when he bought you a blender.”

Tim slaps his hand over his mouth and squeaks a muffled, “Oh no. I spoiled the gift.”

Jason doesn’t miss a beat. “What did you say he bought me? I couldn’t hear that part.”

Tim sighs in relief. That was close.

Jason doesn’t wait for an answer, instead he flips the box over and squints at the description on the back.

“Alfie approved this game?”

“No, I’m buying it for Troy. I’m giving it to Santa so he can leave it under Troy’s tree. I have an appointment with Santa Claus after his shift is over. I need to give him my new list, and we need to discuss some other things. I’m helping Alfie buy Christmas presents for you and your brothers and your dad.”

Jason hands the game to Tim, but Tim shakes his head.

“It says you have to be eighteen to buy this game.” Tim points to the red 18+ in the corner. “Can you buy it for me? I’ll pay you back.”

Jason sighs, “Yeah, sure. Why the hell not. Follow me kiddo.” He nods his head toward the gift-wrapping station before he takes Tim’s hand, and they walk to the register.

After the game is purchased, Jason walks Tim over to the gift-wrapping station. The line is gone, and only Alfred is there, getting the last gift wrapped. Jason squats down, sitting on his heels, and points at the display wall of wrapping paper.

“Which one do you want for the game? My favorite color is red, so I’m leaning toward the red metallic one.”

All the wrapping paper is really pretty, but Tim points to the shiniest.

“I want the blue one. Can I get a silver bow too, please?”

“’Course you can. Can’t have a gift without a bow. Just hand the lady the game and tell her you want the blue one with the silver bow. You want me to lift you up so you can see over the counter?”

Tim nods and opens his arms, so that Jason can lift him onto his hip.

Tim passes the game over to the gift-wrapping lady, and the woman smiles as she wraps.

“Are you having fun? Is that your brother?”

Tim nods, “Yes. This is my brother. His name is Joe. He has nothing to do with the Wayne family. He’s my brother, Joe Drake.” Tim looks back at Jason and winks. Jason laughs. His laugh sounds really familiar to Tim, but he’s not sure why.

Jason holds the gift-wrapped videogame, and Alfred holds the bag full of presents for the Waynes so that Tim can have both hands free, allowing him to hold both Alfred’s hand and Jason’s hand at the same time.

They have a bit more time to waste before Tim’s appointment with Santa, so Tim, Alfred, and the Secret Son get pretzels at the pretzel place.

When it’s time to head back to Santa, Tim is nervous – because Santa is still Santa – but the moment he sees Santa’s eyes light up when he spots Tim, his nerves fade away and it’s like he’s seeing an old friend again.

The photo area is closed, but Santa is still sitting there waiting for him, so Tim marches up to Santa and waves, while clutching the shiny blue present.

“Hi Santa. Do you remember me?”

“Hmm,” Santa says tilting his head, just like Red Hood does. “Let me think. You’re Thomas, right?”

Tim giggles, “No.”

“Hmm, was it Jimmy?”

“Close,” Tim says, giggling harder.

“I’ve got it. You’re little Timmy Drake!”

Tim’s giggles turn into laughter. “You knew who I was all along, didn’t you, Santa.”

“I did,” Santa says laughing along with Tim.

Tim sits on Santa’s lap and gets down to business. He tells Santa which numbers need to be replaced on his list and what to get for each of his elves now that there’s more room on the list. He plays the message he saved on his phone for Santa with Troy’s description, and hands him the gift in the blue shiny wrapping paper.

“Ho, ho, ho. Is that all, Timmy?”

“No,” Tim says, “but this next part I have to whisper so Alfred doesn’t hear.”

Tim leans in close and Tim whispers, “I know that it will make my list eleven things, but I really want you to get something for Alfred. He’s a butler and he works really hard, and Mom says when she works really hard she desperately needs a spa day. Can you buy a spa day for Alfred, please?”

“I can do that,” Santa says.

“You’re the best!”

“Of course I am. I’m Santa,” he says with a chuckle.

“I have a present for you, Santa.”

“For me?”

Tim nods. “You didn’t give me your list, but I have something just for you.” Tim opens his arms. “Mrs. Mac says you should always ask first before you give someone a hug or a kiss, but I hope you don’t say no because it’s the only gift I have.”

Santa leans forward and Tim wraps his tiny arms around him. Santa ducks down more so that Tim can balance his hands on Santa’s shoulders and Timmy gives Santa a peck on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Santa. I’ll be asleep when you come over tomorrow night, so this is goodbye until next year. Unless I see you punching people when you’re doing your other job.”

“Merry Christmas, Timmy,” Santa says, squeezing him in a squishy Santa hug.

+1

Tim has never been so nervous in his life. He’s been practicing his tree dance all day, but the play is about to start, and this is when it really counts. He’s shaking so hard that the little ornaments that the drama teacher added to Tim’s branches this morning are jingling.

The play is starting in a few minutes, so everyone is lined up in the hallway. Parents are fussing over their kids and taking pictures. Tim’s parents aren’t there. Tim got a ride to the school himself. He called an Uber, which cost him twice as much, because it’s Christmas Eve. When Tim had climbed into the Uber, he got a weird feeling like someone was watching him, and when he turned to look, he could have sworn that he saw someone duck into the shadows. He should have been scared, but it didn’t feel like someone dangerous. It felt like someone was protecting him. He really hopes it was Batman.

Tim runs through his choreography again and sighs. There’s no one to fuss over him. There never is. He tries not to be too sad about it because no one likes a sad tree. He forces his mouth into his practiced gala smile and heads to the stage. The curtain is closed so that all the students can get into place, but there’s a crack open, so when the teachers are arranging the carolers, Tim waddles to the crack in the curtain and peeks out into the audience.

The lights are out, so he can’t really see much past the first two rows, but he hears grumbling from the second row. People are standing as a man and his sons make their way to a few empty seats in the middle of the row. The man, that Tim thinks is the father is apologizing as people stand so that he can scoot past. When the group sits down, Tim sees that the man that was apologizing is Bruce Wayne, and he brought his three sons. Even in the darkness Tim can see Damian Wayne glaring at the people next to him. Dick Grayson-Wayne has a hand on Damian’s arm, like he’s keeping Damian from murdering the people next to him, but Dick is also using his other hand to take off his scarf. Jason is the one sitting closest to Bruce. Jason is wearing a beanie hat, but he doesn’t take it off. Jason catches Tim’s eye and his eyes light up like Tim is a celebrity.

Jason waves while elbowing Dick. Dick elbows him back, but when he points and Dick sees Timmy, Dick’s face lights up too. Dick makes a heart shape with his hands and Tim bursts out of the curtain.

“Hi,” Tim yells, hopping up and down. “Hi Mr. Wayne! Hi Damian! Hi Jason! Thank you for coming!”

The audience laughs, but Tim is yanked back behind the curtain before he can cause any more trouble. The drama teacher is smiling at him, so Tim doesn’t think he’s in too much trouble.

When the play starts, everything goes perfectly. When it’s time for Timmy’s big solo, he gets all the steps right, and when he shimmies at the end, the crowd goes wild. He gets a standing ovation, and the lights come on so Tim can see. Jason sticks his fingers in his mouth and whistles, while Dick cups his hands around his mouth to cheer just as loud as Jason’s whistling. Damian is cheering and pumping his fist, and Bruce Wayne is clapping. When Bruce makes eye contact with Tim, he holds two thumbs up. Tim goes back to his spot in the background. Before they turn the audience lights down again, Jason leans over and says something to his dad. Bruce laughs so hard he drops his head back and clutches his stomach. It’s the kind of laugh that Tim can hear all the way from his spot in the background. It’s a laugh that’s jolly, and merry and – oh no.

Tim’s brain comes to a full stop as something extremely obvious slams into him.

“I know Santa’s other, other secret identity!”

***

Tim shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“I don’t mind taking an Uber back home, Mr. Wayne. It’s Christmas Eve, so I know you guys are busy. You were nice enough to come see the play, and I’m really happy you came because Mom and Dad never come to my school things, and Mrs. Mac doesn’t like driving at night and afterschool things are at night because they’re after school, so she never comes, and it felt really cool when you were cheering for me.”

“You are not taking an Uber back home,” Bruce says sternly, but kindly.

Jason mumbles under his breath, “By the time I realized what was happening, the Uber driver was already driving away.”

Tim pretends not to hear that, but now he knows that it was Red Hood watching him before.

Tim has pieced together the Batfamily puzzle. He knows that Bruce Wayne is Santa and Batman, Dick is Nightwing, Jason is Red Hood, and Damian is Robin, but he also knows that he should not know that information. If they find out he knows and they erase his mind, he’s going to forget everything.

He doesn’t want to forget how much fun he had hanging out with his superhero idols, drinking hot chocolate, eating pizza and popcorn, and watching movies.

He doesn’t want to forget how much fun he had shopping with Alfred for presents.

He doesn’t want to forget about the Waynes coming to cheer for him, even though they were almost late.

He doesn’t want to forget them, but more importantly he doesn’t want them to forget him. After the mind erase, the Waynes will probably avoid Tim, and he’ll lose the only friends he has. He might not be able to stop all of that from happening, but he at least can stop it from happening before Christmas.

Bruce is offering to give him a ride home, but Tim takes a deep breath, hoping that he isn’t pushing his luck.

“Can I stay at Wayne Manor tonight? Alfred told me when we were shopping that he was making a really big Christmas dinner and I – ,” he mumbles the rest, “ – I don’t want to eat microwave macaroni and cheese.”

Everyone is talking at once, but when everyone calms down, Tim is loaded into the backseat and driven straight to Wayne Manor. They make a quick stop at Drake Manor so that Tim can pick up a pair of PJs and anything else he needs for the sleepover.

He gets to sit at the head of the table and Alfred’s Christmas dinner is even more delicious than Tim imagined. At the end of dinner, Tim is more stuffed than he has ever been in his entire life. Still, he finds room for dessert.

Alfred had prepared the guest room for Tim to sleep, but everyone ends up falling asleep on the couch, bundled under blankets, with Christmas cartoons playing on the TV.

***

Tim sits as close to the fireplace as he can. He can’t wait for everyone to open their presents. He knows about the ones that he helped Alfred pick out, but he doesn’t know what everyone else gave each other. He’s so happy watching everyone laugh and holler every time someone opens a gift, that he forgets that he might have gifts from Santa under his tree at home.

Damian is scowling as he models the elephant footie pajamas that Dick bought for him. Damian puts the hood part up. The hood is shaped like an elephant head, complete with a trunk. Dick is cackling at this point.

Damian suffers through a picture, yelling, “This is the only time you will see me wearing this monstrosity, Richard.”

Bruce holds up a hand, “Enough teasing your brother, Dick. It’s time for Tim’s presents.”

“My presents?” Tim asks.

“Yup,” Jason says, carrying a giant box in his arms. “Some friends of yours dropped these off.” He places the presents on the floor in front of Tim.

The tag on the giant giftbox says, From the Batfamily. Tim tears the paper open and pulls the lid off the large cardboard box. Each object inside has a different color bow on it, signifying who it’s from.

Theres a stack of coloring books and a huge box of crayons with green bows on them. Those gifts must be from Robin. Tim holds up the coloring book and the crayons. There are oos, and ahhs, and Damian doesn’t hold back a smile. Tim feels the heat travel up from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears.

There’s a giant T-Rex toy that makes noises when a button on its chest is pressed, and a remote-controlled drone that looks like the Bat-plane. Both gifts have blue bows, so they must be from Nightwing. Tim shows off the gifts from Nightwing, and he feels a lump in his throat.

There’s a complete box set of Batman and Robin trading cards. There’s also a binder with sleeves to store the cards. There’s also a box of UV protected hard plastic, single covers for storing more valuable cards. These gifts have black bows, so they’re from Batman. Tim holds up the gifts and his chest tightens.

All of the camera equipment that Tim had on his list, including the things he had to cross off, are in the box with red bows on them. Red means Red Hood. Tim’s hands are shaking when he holds the gifts up.

The camera equipment gets another round of oos and ahhs, but Jason adds, “I bet Red Hood stole that off Santa’s sleigh. Those were all the things from your list, right?”

Tim looks at the equivalent of his entire Christmas Wishlist, and then back at Jason. He can’t hold it back anymore and the tears spill out of his eyes and down his face.

Jason leaps off the couch and sits across from Tim.

“What’s wrong, buddy? Why are you crying?”

Tim hiccups as he pushes down a sob that tries to escape. He blinks rapidly trying to calm himself so he can explain, but his chin wobbles as he speaks.

“I’m really happy.”

Jason ruffles Tim’s hair, “That’s the whole point of Christmas, silly.” He rummages in Tim’s box of toys. “So, which one’s your favorite gift?”

“I like them all, but I really, really love the camera,” Tim says, scrubbing his eyes with his sleeve to wipe away the rest of the tears.

While the rest of the family gathers around to get a closer look at Tim’s Christmas package, Tim looks at Bruce and smiles. Tim really loves the camera, but it wasn’t his favorite gift, and he knows that Santa knows he was lying when he said it was. Tim’s favorite gift is actually the gift that he got from Santa. Little Timmy never got to spend a Christmas with a family, thanks to his awful parents, but Tim made a secret wish that he wouldn’t be alone for Christmas this year, and Santa used his magic to give Timmy his ultimate wish.

For the rest of the day, Tim gets to play with his new gifts.

Damian sits with him by the fireplace and the two of them color in Tim’s coloring book. Tim tries to color in the lines like Damian, but sometimes it’s hard and he messes up. It’s okay though, because every time Tim finishes a coloring page, Damian says it looks like a masterpiece.

After coloring, Dick and Tim play with the toy dinosaur. Dick gets some of the Lego toys he has from his room and the two create an elaborate play script of a giant T-Rex attacking a village of Lego people. The Lego villagers think the dinosaur has come to eat all the people living in the village, but the dinosaur is actually trying to warn them that a huge rainstorm is coming that will flood the village. The only way to keep the villagers safe is to scare them so that they head to higher ground. When the villagers are safely out of reach from the flood waters, they all realize that the dinosaur is a hero instead of a villain, and they all become best friends.

After that, Dick and Tim try to play with the remote-control drone inside the house and Dick gets yelled at by Alfred.

All the food at lunchtime is extra yummy, and Tim gets to sit next to Jason, which makes lunch even better.

After lunch, Tim asks Jason if he could read all the instruction manuals to him. Tim snuggles next to Jason’s side, on the couch, as Jason reads about all the buttons and features of Tim’s new camera. When Jason finishes, Tim asks him to read it again please, and he does!

When Tim asks him to read it a third time, Jason picks him up, and carries him to the library. Jason sits Tim in the comfiest chair in the whole world and points at the bookshelf.

“Alright, Tiny Tim, no more camera instruction manuals. We’re gonna read a real book together.”

Jason takes a book from the shelf called A Knight and his Pet Dragon. Jason does different voices for all the different characters, which makes Tim squeal with happiness. During some parts of the story, Jason tells Tim to read the words, but it’s only the parts with the easy words that Tim knows, so he doesn’t feel nervous. Tim uses his finger to move across the words and sounds each of them out loud slowly. Jason doesn’t make fun of him when he messes up a word, he just tells him to try again, and if Tim still doesn’t get it right, Jason tells him the word. Tim really wishes Jason were his teacher.

Tim is exhausted after the story. He hasn’t needed nap time since preschool, but when Jason suggests a nap, Tim yawns in agreement.

Tim’s asleep on Jason’s shoulder, before they even reach his guest room. He isn’t sure how long he sleeps, but when he wakes up, he feels well rested, and ready for another story.

He throws off the blankets and scoots to the edge of the bed, ready to search for Jason. Wayne Manor is huge, but Tim knows how to get to the library. Hopefully, Jason is still in the library, and they can go back to reading together.

Tim runs to the library, but when he gets there, he’s greeted with shelves of books instead of his reading partner. The bookshelves go from the floor to the ceiling, and there’s even a ladder with wheels to reach the books on the tippy top of the shelves.

The bookshelves are interesting, but Tim is more interested in the giant grandfather clock in the corner of the room. The clock isn’t flat against the wall, and the closer Tim walks to it, the stranger it gets. A cool breeze is coming from behind the clock. Tim shivers as he looks at the wall, where the breeze is coming from, and he sees that it’s a hidden door. Is this Batman’s secret hideout?

Tim is tiny enough to slip through the tiny space, and he starts to tip toe down the stairs. There isn’t a railing to hold onto, so he moves slowly, so he doesn’t fall down. He counts each stairstep as he goes down, but when he gets to fifty-five, he gasps, and totally loses count.

The first thing Tim sees is a giant T-Rex robot that’s the size of a building. The T-Rex looks exactly like the robot toy Nightwing gave him. The second thing Tim sees is Batman.

Batman, in his full Batsuit, is sitting in front of a giant computer. Batman is in his full uniform, but the rest of the team isn’t. Robin has his suit on, but not his domino mask. Red Hood is maskless too. He’s holding his red helmet under his arm and his leather jacket isn’t on. Tim can’t hear what Robin is saying to Red Hood, but Robin is waving his arms out wildly and Red Hood is nodding.

Tim is about to slowly tip toe back up the stairs, but Nightwing walks out (from what Tim assumes is the direction of the locker room). He’s dressed the most casually. He’s in full uniform and no domino mask, but the back of his Nightwing suit is unzipped to his midback. He either just put the suit on, or he’s deciding whether to take it off or not. His hair is wet, like he just came out of the shower. Tim should have taken less time looking at his hero and more time escaping, because Nightwing turns his head toward the stairs and looks right at him. Tim’s window for escape has closed.

“Timmy?” Nightwing says. “How did you – oh crap. I’m not wearing my mask.”

Robin pulls up his hood, but it’s a little too late for that.

Tim walks down the remaining steps and when he’s on flat ground he sways from side to side. He holds his arms in front of him and starts to mumble, hoping it looks like he’s sleepwalking.

Jason laughs, “That looks pretty convincing, little dude. I should tell your drama teacher to upgrade you from a little tree to the lead role next year.”

“Really?” Tim says, wide-eyed, and then quickly realizes his mistake.

Jason crosses his arms over his chest. He has a smirk on his face.

“What’s the plan now, Dad?” he asks.

Batman takes his cowl off, and he looks at Tim with a blank expression.

Robin pulls down his hood and rolls his eyes.

“Tt. I am fairly sure Timothy knew who we were before this encounter.” At the end of Robin’s eyeroll his green eyes narrow, looking straight at Tim. “Timothy, who was it that gave away the secret? Surely it wasn’t me. I am betting it was Richard.”

“No way,” Dick snaps back. “I’m not the one with a freakin’ white streak in his hair, and I’m not the guy that has a permanent scowl and speaks using bigger words than his tiny Robin body. It was one of you two that gave the secret away.”

“I am not tiny,” Robin scowls. “And my vocabulary –”  

Tim doesn’t want to see his friends fight so he blurts out, “It was Bruce.”

That silences the room, so he continues.

“At the end of my tree dance I heard him laughing in the audience, and it was Santa’s laugh. After that, it was easy to figure out that Jason was lying about dying his hair because he’s a Red Hood fan. I know who everyone is, and that means you’re going to erase my brain and I’ll forget all of you, but I don’t want to forget. If I promise not to tell, can Santa adopt me as an elf and then I can live in the North Pole with the other elves, and I’ll be so far away that no one will even know I’m there. Then when I get older, I can audition for the part of the new Robin, and I can work with you. I can have a happy life in the North Pole. If you let me take my camera equipment, I can make toys during the day and take pictures of penguins at night.”

Batman answers with a long sigh, and Tim knows what long sighs mean. Whenever his mom or dad sigh after he asks for something, it means the answer is no.

Tim feels the tears slip down, even though he’s trying so hard not to cry. He wants to be a good little boy and not question Santa, but just like the tears, he can’t help the next thing that slips out.

“I don’t want to forget everything. I don’t want to be alone again. Why did you give me a family for Christmas if you were just going to take it away? Is it because I’m bad, Santa? Am I on your naughty list? I tried really really hard to be good this year, but I didn’t do it right. I’m a stupid little boy that doesn’t behave and messes everything up. And now I’m going to be punished, just like Mom and Dad punish me. I’ll go back to my room, and I won’t come down for dinner and I’ll think about what I did wrong. You can erase my mind after that.”

“Tim,” Batman says softly. The sound of his name makes Tim look up, and it’s just in time for Batman to scoop him up in a hug. Tim sobs on Batman’s shoulder. Batman rubs his back and tells him everything is going to be okay as Tim cries his eyes out.

Tim whimpers, “I’ll keep your secret. I promise,” but Batman hugs Tim tighter and keeps reassuring him that everything is going to be alright.

When Tim is finished crying, he lifts his head from Batman’s shoulder. He’s still feeling shaky, and he feels a little like he’s going to throw up, but when he looks up at Batman, something calms inside of him.

“You’re not going to erase my mind,” Tim says, as he reads the emotions on Batman’s Bruce’s face. Bruce’s eyes are shiny like Tim’s.

“I’m not going to erase your mind, Timmy, and you’re not going to be alone ever again if I can help it.”

“Promise, Santa?”

“I promise. It just so happens that keeping you safe and making sure you’re never alone were the first two things on my Christmas list.”

Tim gives Santa/Batman/Bruce the biggest hug he can and giggles, “I was really on your Christmas list? I love you, Santa.” Tim knows that he’s gotten so much from Santa already this year, but he asks for one more thing. “Can I meet Rudolph and ride in your sleigh?”

Tim hears the jingle of keys behind him, and when he turns his head, Jason is spinning a pair of keys on his finger.

“The sleigh is cool and all, but I can hook you up with a ride in the Batmobile. I need to drop some presents over for Lian, and then I have a bunch of toys that I need to drop off to some of the kids in my Crime Alley turf.”

“Todd, can I have a chance to drive?” Robin asks.

“Sure. Why not,” Jason says, plucking Tim away from Bruce and balancing him on his hip. “It’s got auto-drive, so even Timmy can have a chance to drive.”

Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, and Tim hop into a Batmobile that is definitely not built for four people. Nightwing turns the Christmas music up to full blast on the radio and Red Hood starts the trip to deliver gifts to all the good little girls and good little boys. This time, he has an extra elf to help him. An elf named Timmy.

After delivering toys for the next few hours, the elves stop to take a dinner break at Batburger, before they head to deliver Lian’s gifts. Lian and her dad don’t live in Gotham, but her dad, Arsenal, brought them both to New York, to see the tree, so the trip to the hotel doesn’t take too long. The best part is that Tim and Lian are best friends now, and even though she lives in California, Tim and Li are going to be pen pals!

As Nightwing drives over the bridge to head back to Gotham, Tim rests his head on Red Hood’s chest and wishes the night would never end, and just like Christmas magic, Tim’s magical adventures are far from over.

The littlest elf closes his eyes, and whispers, “Merry Christmas, Jason.”

“Merry Christmas, Timmy.”