Chapter Text
Theodora Janessa Drake was not a planned baby. Nor was she an accident.
Jack and Janet Drake did require an heir, a male heir.
Theodora was not a male heir.
Her twin brother Timothy Jackson Drake was.
If Timothy had been born before her as an older sibling, Theodora would have never been born.
Timothy was the heir, Theodora the spare.
While her parents hadn’t wanted her, there was merit to her existence as a spare child. Especially since she was female, a marriageable asset to make ties with another of Gotham’s elite.
This didn’t matter to Theodora. She was just happy that this life, her second life, wasn’t at constant war.
<><><>
By six months old it was clear to Theadora that her parents were absolutely neglectful scum, and her baby brother Tim was to be protected with her life.
Since not even the live-in nanny that was assigned to watch them 24/7 was very affectionate, Tim clung to Theadora like a leech.
When Theadora re-learned to crawl at four months old, Tim was crawling after her within days.
When she re-learned to walk, Tim was just one step behind her.
Their parents had already left them behind, but Tim wouldn’t let Theadora leave him too.
So she relented, and taught him what she had once learned in another life.
<><><>
While there was a record of her birth, Theadora Drake doesn’t exist outside of the elite social circles her parents rarely frequented.
When he was five, Tim was sent off to Gotham Academy primary school. Theadora was locked away in Drake manor, home schooled in etiquette, homemaking, and anything else the Gotham Elite wife was expected to know.
She was given hours on her own, meant to better the crafts of art and music to be used as trophies for her parents to show off at dinner parties and galas.
Theadora had learned piano in her old life - being a soldier at war she had been expected to learn a craft for stress relief - so she used that and ballet to keep her parents satisfied. The rest of her free time, the bulk of it, she used for learning skills she knew would help her in the future. If her brother was destined to become the third Robin, Theadora would be right there with him.
Everyday, Tim would come home to Theadora waiting at the front door and she would indulge his every whim.
They would play hide and seek and read mystery novels together. Everyday Tim would ask Theadora what she wanted to do., but Theadora had no wants but to see her brother happy.
He really was really such a sweet kid.
<><><>
It was a throw away comment from their father that set their greatest trick in motion.
Theadora liked to keep her hair short, just touching her shoulders. It made it easy to keep out of the way when she did her gymnastics and ballet.
Tim had always had long straight hair, but he had forgotten to get it cut the last couple of months.
“You need a haircut son,” Jack Drake said as he and Janet walked in from their three month long dig in Cairo, “I thought you were Theodora for a second.”
Tim and Theadora shared a look, then plastered on smiles and helped their parents bring in their bags.
Theadora had never loved Jack and Janet. They were nothing but neglectful sperm donors to her.
Tim lost love for them when he was allowed to go to school while Theadora was trapped in the house and trained to be a bride.
Theadora had always been there for Tim, Jack and Janet had not.
Later that night as the twins got ready for bed in their shared bathroom, Theadora and Tim looked in the mirror and saw almost their perfect double staring back.
Being twins meant they looked similar, but they wren’t identical. Theadora had slightly sharper cheekbones, Tim’s hair was a shade darker.
They might not be identical now, but they could be.
<><><>
It took a year, but by the time they were eight Tim and Theadora could pull off switching places without anyone the wiser.
It helped that Theadora’s lessons in lady-hood had stopped when she was seven. Now all she had were some online lessons to do in math, science, and English.
Both her and Tim were several years ahead of their grades curriculum in normal classes. They were even taking some college courses on the side, under a pseudonym.
They traded off, Tim taking Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Theadora taking Tuesday and Thursday, not being as used to the amount of people school entailed.
The appearance thing was simple really.
They got identical hair cuts, Tim keeping his styled and tied back for a more sleek boyish look, Theadora keeping hers down with pulled back bangs braided into a small tail at the back.
Theadora also slowly darkened her hair using dye until her hair naturally matched Tim’s.
Makeup and contouring fixed their slight dissimilarities in face shape. Then they taught each other their little habits, how they walked, how they talked.
A lot of mirroring practice had them practically identical.
All that was left was wardrobe.
Tim had to only wear flats when he was Theadora, and Theadora had to learn to walk with platforms added inside Tim’s loafers.
But by the end of the year, nobody could tell when they switched.
<><><>
Tim found out about Robin’s identity, and then Batman’s by extension.
He insisted on going out and following them, enamored by their bravery and goodness. Theadora knew she couldn’t stop him, which is why she had trained him.
Tim took as many ballet and gymnastic classes as Theadora did.
There parents trained them in how to be out of sight and out of mind.
Together, Tim and Theadora were skilled enough to follow Batman and Robin around at night, Tim taking pictures of the dynamic duo, Theadora loving the freedom of free-running over rooftops.
They even managed to capture several sketchy deals in the making, dropping of the evidence with Jim Gordon of the GPD so that he could get the bad guys or send Batman after them at his leisure.
They’re both nine years old and watch as Batman and Robin turns back to just Batman.
In Bludhaven, Robin pops back up under the name Nightwing, flying solo.
They turn ten and Batman gains a new Robin.
This Robin is scrappier and more daring.
He’s everything Tim is not, which makes the boy his hero even more so than Dick Grayson or Bruce Wayne ever were.
Theadora clenches her teeth and follows along as Tim follows someone that will beat him almost to death like a little starstruck puppy.
Maybe there is something she can do to stop the future from happening.
<><><>
She figured out Jason’s plans to go to Ethiopia purely by chance.
It’s her day to be Tim, genius child that’s skipped two grades.
Jason sits in front of Tim in English class and just so happened to be buying plane tickets to Ethiopia during their teachers monologue about soliloquies.
It’s like the world wants her to do something, so do something she shall.
The date Jason was booking just so happen to coincide with the overnight field trip that their school has planned in two days.
It’s a trip to the Smithsonian museums that Tim is really excited about.
Jason could easily skip it by calling in sick while Bruce and Alfred would believe he was on the trip until it’s too late.
Theadora will be staying home as there cannot be two Tim Drake’s on the filled trip and she doesn’t care for museums while Tim does.
At lunch Theadora books the same flight as Jason, booking first class so as not to run into Jason who had booked economy.
Tim will freak out when he comes home to find her note, but it will all be for the better.
Saving Jason will make sure that the Red Hood is never born to beat her brother with his own staff before slitting his throat.
His worry is a necessary evil Theadora will bear.
<><><>
Jason is sixteen to her eleven. He gets through security with no issues.
Theadora is called an escort, a nice flight attended lady that is meant to help watch her until she can be handed off to her parents in Ethiopia.
Luckily she set up a cab with her name to be ready to take her to her hotel.
The flight is long, but not unpleasant sat in first class with all the flight attendants doting on her.
Ethiopia is a cultural experience, hot and humid and loud.
She gets to her hotel and starts to plan.
She’s got an outfit of all black to remain unknown when she saves Jason, if she can save Jason.
If she remembers correctly, it wasn’t the beating or explosion that did him in, but the smoke inhalation.
Theadora isn’t stupid enough to think she can stop the Joker.
But she can drag Jason out of danger before the explosion hits.
She rents a moped and buys her time.
<><><>
It’s day three and Bruce Wayne should have learned that Jason wasn’t on his trip and be flying to Ethiopia right now, only to arrive too late.
Theadora finds the camp that Jason’s birth mother Sheila works at, and hides herself in the roof of one of the warehouses to wait it out.
She’s got some camping supplies and a large army knife to keep her safe.
She sits and she waits and eventually night falls and then the men with creepy clown masks appear, touting something red and green and yellow but not moving into a nearby warehouse.
She hears a manic laugh that will haunt her dreams as she watches a man with a big red grin and green hair enter the warehouse as well.
Theadora moves to the closest corner and watches through the windows as Jason is beaten with a crowbar, his screams dying into the humid air for no one to answer.
It’s horrifying to watch, but Theadora can’t turn away, she can’t leave this child to his fate.
She grips the edge of the roof with white knuckles and witnesses the whole thing.
Forehand and backhand, swing A and swing B. Over and over, the crowbar goes.
Until it all just stops.
Jason isn’t moving, but Theadora hopes he can’t be dead.
Joker sliks back his hair with blood and directs his men to set up the bombs.
Then he leaves with his awful laugh and padlocks the doors shut behind him.
Jason still isn’t moving and Theadora wonders if her information is wrong, if her existence has somehow killed Jason before the bomb.
She waits until the truck has turned the corner before climbing down the ladder on the side of the building, backpack strapped to her back.
Theadora runs for the front door and pulls out bolt cutters from her backpack, snapping the simple padlock in two.
It falls to the ground with a dull thunk. It’s one of those ones you can grab at the dollar store, just cheap metal with a spot for a key to unlock it.
It’s still good enough to keep Jason trapped in his soon to be tomb without outsider interference helping.
Theadora throws the door open and takes in the sight before her.
Jason as Robin is crawling his way towards the door, a good twenty feet away.
At the back of the room is the slumped body of Shelia, blood cooling around the body.
To the left, in front of some boxes is a bomb with a big timer that’s easy to read set up. The timer reads two minutes and thirty seconds.
Theadora moves into the room with speed she didn’t know she possessed and kneels by Jason.
The boy stops and stares up at her through hazy looking eyes, not really seeing her.
“Dick?” The boy asks, “hurts.”
She’s been mistaken for Robin the first, probably because of her all black clothing being similar to Nightwing’s ensemble.
“No,” Theadora says, “but I’m here to help. Can you stand with my help?”
“My mom,” the boy groans, trying to look back, “is Shelia okay?”
“No,” Theadora says, “she’s dead Robin. Now we need to go, there’s a bomb.”
“I can’t,” Jason sobs, “my legs, hurts.”
Theadora bites her lip and glances back at the clock, two minutes and ten seconds:
“Okay,” Theadora says, “okay, I’ve got you. I’m sorry, but this will hurt.”
Theadora reaches under Jason’s armpits and turns him over so he’s on his back.
Jason cries out and more tears slip down his face, but he doesn’t fight her. She doesn’t think he can.
Theadora starts dragging him in ernest, they hit the door’s threshold and Theadora checks the timer again. One minute and forty-five seconds left.
Theadora abandons her backpack to lighten her load and pulls faster.
She counts down with the beat of her heart as she pulls Robin out of the warehouse and as far as she can managed.
They reach a ditch a good one hundred meters away and Theadora all but throws Jason into it and then climbs on top of him to shield him.
Five, four, three, two, one.
The warehouse explodes in a showing of flames and heat that sear Theadora’s back and pelt her with small debris that makes her cry out in pain.
Then something large smacks her head hard and she blacks out for a good few minutes.
She comes to with her ears ringing and her head throbbing in time to her heartbeat.
She stares at the warehouse, a mess of debris and flames. In front of it arrives a man dressed all in black, who starts desperately sorting through the debris.
It’s Batman, Theadora notes distantly and stands up on shaking feet.
“Here!” Theadora calls, the sound muffled in her ears, her vision swimming in and out, “he’s here!”
The dark knight must hear her as he turns around and starts running towards them.
“Jason!” She hears Batman yell as he kneels down by them and scoops Jason up in his arms, “Jaylad!”
Theadora huffs several breaths before trying to walk. She stumbles, but remains on her feet. Theadora turns and starts walking away.
“Wait,” Cries Batman, “who are you?!”
“That is none of your concern,” Theadora huffs a breath, “you must focus on Robin and his injuries. I didn’t save his life just so he could bleed out in your arms! Do your job and save him!”
Batman looks at Theadora, then looks at Jason and stands.
“Thank you,” the dark knight says, before rushing off to the nearby parked bat-plane.
Theadora limps her way to the wreckage and manages to find her backpack, before continuing on down the road and back to civilization.