Work Text:
Just help me run away from everyone
I need a place to stay
- Freaks, Surf Curse
“Timothy, have you already changed your tie? That green one made you look like a slob.”
Tim rolled his eyes at his mother’s harping, trying his best to answer in a neutral tone, without a hint of annoyance. “ Yes , Mother. I changed it for the new burgundy one that arrived this morning.”
Janet Drake hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t bother to look away from the tall mirror hanging in their hallway. She continued fussing with her hair for what felt like the umpteenth time, only stopping when his father marched in, car keys in hand.
“It seems we are good to go. Glad you decided not to wear that other tie, son. What were you even thinking when you bought it?” Jack Drake spoke with his lip curled in distaste before exiting the manor, his arm draped around his wife.
Tim didn’t bother reminding his father that it was actually them who had given him the tie for Christmas last year. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh and followed his parents outside. This was not how he’d planned to spend his evening.
His parents had been away for half a year, seemingly forgetting they had a son at home, until they suddenly decided to check in and see if he was still alive. Meanwhile, Tim had been having the time of his life . Alfred had practically forced him to stay at Wayne Manor under the guise that he could take better care of him. Dick was around more often than ever before. And, best of all, Jason didn’t hate him anymore! The guest room he’d been staying in had now slowly transformed into his own.
Tim still remembered Jason snorting at his insistence that it wasn’t his room, but just a guest room. “Baby Bird, this is the family wing,” the older vigilante had replied. Since then, and after the pollen incident, Tim had practically become a Wayne himself. He was included in every family game night, mealtime, and day trip. The number of times Tim had almost called Bruce “Dad” was mortifyingly high.
He had been living the dream. And then his parents returned, and within a week, Tim was back at Drake Manor, hating every second of it. Wayne Manor was warm and cozy, while Drake Manor felt sterile and impersonal. His parents certainly weren’t making the transition any easier; their constant harping and nitpicking were slowly driving him up a wall.
Sitting in the back seat of one of the family’s fancy cars, Tim let out a quiet sigh. Of course, the first thing his parents would do after returning to Gotham was to drag him to a gala. After all, to them, his only purpose was to be shown off as the perfect son and heir.
“We are going to the Wayne gala, Timothy. Please, tell me the facts you had to learn about them again,” his mother ordered.
Tim froze at the mention of where they were going, momentarily forgetting his mother’s annoying habit of making him memorize important people’s Wikipedia pages. Vaguely, he recalled Bruce mentioning the upcoming gala he was hosting. Bruce had said Tim was welcome to attend if he wanted, but there was no obligation. At least now, Tim figured he might be able to sneak away and find Alfred or Dick to hang out with.
“Timothy, answer your mother,” his father snapped, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Bruce Wayne, 42 years old, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and a billionaire. He has two adopted sons, Richard Grayson-Wayne and Jason Todd-Wayne.”
With a dismissive wave, Janet clicked her tongue. “Continue.”
“Richard, who mostly goes by Dick, is 24 and was a former circus acrobat. He’s a police officer in Blüdhaven. Jason is 19 and has been out of the picture for a while.” Tim left out the non-public details—like the fact that Dick only worked part-time and Jason was planning to study English Literature online.
Some days, he wished Bruce would adopt him. Tim Drake-Wayne, 16 years old, genius, and future Wayne Enterprises employee. One could only dream .
As they pulled up to the event and stepped out of the car, Tim’s mother’s hand descended on his shoulder like a talon, her acrylic nails digging into him to keep him close. Tim resigned himself to a long, boring, and excruciating evening. No way was he going to be able to sneak away now.
Jason was decidedly not having a good time, and he knew for a fact that Dick wasn’t either. Bruce had asked them — very insistently — to join him for the gala, even going so far as to promise them whatever they wanted in return. In the end, Dick had caved and dragged Jason along with him. Fuck that bastard . At least Jason was getting a new motorcycle out of this.
Pulling at the collar of his shirt, he sneakily snatched a glass of champagne from a passing server’s platter and downed it in one go. Jason had to give it to Bruce: the man had outdone himself as usual — in the eyes of stuffy socialites, that is.
Personally, Jason never gave a damn about these events. The people here were stuck-up, boring assholes who saw him as nothing more than a dirty street rat who’d trespassed into their privileged world. The hate was mutual.
With a sharp grin, Jason maneuvered his way through the crowd toward where Dick was chatting with a few ladies. By now, most people had forgotten Dick had ever been a "circus freak" and instead saw him as the perfect opportunity to get close to Bruce. Jason had to admit, Dick was selling himself really well in his navy suit, white shirt, and light blue tie combo.
Ironically, when his brother had taken him shopping for suits, they’d both ended up choosing nearly identical ones, differing only in color. Dick, naturally, had gone with navy because of his Nightwing colors, and Jason couldn’t blame him. After all, he’d done the same, opting for a burgundy suit.
Jason smirked as he saw one of the ladies taking a more hands-on approach to get what she wanted, practically throwing herself at Dick. Seeing his brother's uncomfortable expression, Jason decided it was time to save him from this situation.
“Big Bird, there you are!” he called loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear as he slid up next to Dick.
Dick turned to him with a beaming smile. “Jay, good to see you too.”
“B asked me to fetch you. He wants us to introduce ourselves to some of his business partners . Sorry, ladies, but I’m going to have to whisk him away.”
As they walked away, Dick smiled at Jason. “Bruce didn’t tell you to get me, did he?”
“Nope,” Jason replied, popping the "P." “I just wanted to save you from those women who looked like they were ready to undress you right then and there.”
Dick let out a loud laugh before ruffling Jason’s hair, earning an annoyed snarl in response. For fuck’s sake, he’d actually styled his hair for once.
As they made their way through the gala, Jason was reminded of old times when Dick would calm his anxiety by making fun of the ridiculous dresses and suits people wore to these events. His eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on a familiar figure standing next to a woman and man who were conversing with some graying businessmen — Tim .
Subtly, Jason elbowed his brother and nodded toward the group. “Did you know that Baby Bird would be here?”
Dick’s brows furrowed as he spotted their younger brother. “No, he hasn’t really contacted me since moving back in with his parents last week. I was honestly about to head over to Drake Manor myself for a welfare check.”
“Well, no need to do that anymore,” Jason shrugged. “Although Tim does look like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.”
Dick hummed thoughtfully and guided them toward an empty alcove from where they could keep an eye on the Drakes. Leaning against the wall, Jason suddenly felt the urge to light a cigarette. And he definitely wanted to rip those acrylic nails off Replacement’s mother’s hands. What was that woman thinking , digging them so obviously into his little brother’s shoulder? That bitch shouldn’t be touching him in the first place.
Glancing over at Dick, Jason saw a similarly dark look on his face. Just as Jason was about to stride over and kidnap Tim, Dick pulled him back. “We don’t need to make a scene, Little Wing. Tim is with his parents. It’s not like we can do anything right now.”
Jason grumbled in displeasure. Fucking bastards. He knew B had enough evidence of child neglect and emotional abuse to take the Drakes to court for custody, but why the man hadn’t done it yet was beyond him. According to Dick, Tim and Bruce had had a talk about the Drakes' behavior a year or so ago where Tim practically begged B not to interfere, claiming he loved his parents and that they only wanted the best for their family.
Just looking at the kid now, Jason was pretty damn sure that Tim’s opinion had changed in the past few months. Tim was looking around, almost as if he was searching for someone. Every time he tried to inch away, Janet Drake’s knuckles would turn white from squeezing his shoulder. Jason swore he would brutally gut that bitch if he found bruises on his baby brother after this stupid gala. Nobody fucking touched what was his . All of his associates knew that about Red Hood. It was time people also learned that about Jason Todd-Wayne.
When Tim got the call that his parents were coming back to town, Dick was there and saw the flash of disappointment in his littlest brother’s eyes. In the background, he had been pushing Bruce to finally make Tim an official member of the Wayne family and get him out of that toxic environment. Dick had practically spent the entire evening yelling at Bruce to do something after Tim left the manor.
Bruce eventually gave in and promised Dick he’d talk to Tim the next chance he got. Unfortunately, that “next chance” was taking longer than any of them had hoped. At this point, Dick was almost ready to physically shove the Drakes onto the next plane to Timbuktu if that was what it took for Bruce to have the opportunity to hash out the details with the younger boy. He was sure even Alfred would help, considering how much he adored Tim.
Watching the interactions between Tim, his parents, and strangers gave Dick an uneasy feeling. The Drakes were desperately trying to push the “close family” narrative, but everything was just a little too stiff and forced to feel natural.
Tim was currently saying something to a group of businessmen at his father’s request. It was obvious that whatever he was talking about wasn’t something he cared about. Dick figured his parents didn’t even notice the signs of that. Not like Jason and himself. They knew by heart that when Baby Bird was genuinely interested in something, he’d start making big gestures while talking. He wouldn’t just stand there like a cornered puppy, scared to be kicked. If their little brother was passionate, his eyes would light up with a magical gleam, almost like childlike wonder.
Jason and Dick kept a watchful eye over their little brother for a good hour without him knowing. Servers with little snacks on their platters started making their rounds, offering everyone a small bite of food. As one of the servers approached the Drakes and their entourage, Dick noticed Tim reaching for one of the miniature bruschettas, only to be reprimanded by his mother. Tim quickly pulled his arm back.
Dick could practically hear Jason grinding his teeth but held him back from interfering just yet. A few minutes later, another server came by with a tray of wine. The young woman stood next to their little brother, her smile clearly fake. A few of the businessmen gratefully took a glass. Jack Drake’s arm shot out to grab a glass of red wine, his abrupt motion causing Tim to flinch hard . This made the server lose her balance, and a few glasses toppled off the tray and shattered on the ground right in front of Tim.
Seeing the tears gathering in Tim’s eyes and his parents’ angry shouts at him was the last straw for both Dick and Jason. They practically ran over, and Dick wasted no time sweeping a panicked Tim into his arms.
“ Dick ?” Tim choked out, beyond humiliated, trying to keep his tears at bay.
“Shhh, Baby Bird. You’re alright. Everything’s okay,” Dick gently whispered into Tim’s ear, his arms shielding him from the world.
“You ungrateful brat! Haven’t we taught you to be careful?” Jack barked.
Before he could continue, Jason growled right in his face. “No, because you were never home , you sick bastard.”
“Jason,” Dick said sharply, drawing his brother’s attention. “This is not the time or place for that conversation.”
Jason’s eyes flicked down to Tim, who was clinging to Dick. The two older brothers exchanged a quick, silent conversation before Jason ultimately stepped forward and pried Tim out of Dick’s arms.
“I’m going to help him clean up,” Jason said as he lifted the Baby Bird into his arms.
“I’ll join you two in a second,” Dick replied.
The second his brothers were out of earshot, Dick turned to the Drakes with a murderous look on his face. Bystanders had started to gather, clearly shocked at his expression. Richard Grayson-Wayne was known for being a ray of sunshine — happy, smiley, and flirty, but never angry.
“Don’t even think about calling the police or the press. You’ll be hearing from our lawyers soon,” Dick warned.
Janet huffed and scowled. “That is our son.”
“Not anymore. Tim is ours , and we protect our own. Remember that,” Dick snarled coldly.
Satisfied with their reactions, Dick whirled around and stormed out of the gala. As he walked through the halls of Wayne Manor, he loosened his tie and quickly texted Bruce a summary of what had happened. Rounding a corner, he entered his bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes.
When Dick entered the living room a few minutes later, Tim and Jason had already changed into sweats and baggy shirts and were curled up against each other on the couch. Running a hand through his hair, Dick smiled at the two.
“How about we play some Mario Kart?” he proposed with a grin.
Tim immediately perked up, and Jason nodded enthusiastically. “Game on, Dickhead.”
Laughter echoed throughout the manor for the rest of the evening.