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Tim has always prided himself on not being a bother to others.
He was young when his parents first left on a prolonged business trip, trusting him to be the man of the house, and that trust wasn’t something he ever planned to squander.
So he handled things himself - there were almost no accidents, he ate the food prepared by the housekeeper, and even started learning simple recipes himself once he could reach the stove. Unless there was an actual emergency he didn’t call his parents and run the risk of interrupting any important meetings, or, with the different time zones, their sleep.
So what if he got a little lonely - if the shadows in the manor seemed a little too large when he was on his own. If the silence felt like it was suffocating him. If he wished to just have his parents there. He had just turned eleven years old, he could definitely handle things himself.
One of the few times he actually struggled handling things and decided to run the risk of contacting them was when a really bad cold spell hit Gotham when he was seven and the pipes froze so there was no heating in the manor. He’d been so, so, cold, and no extra blankets seemed to help so he had called his parents hoping they could contact someone to fix it, but in his haste to no longer be cold he accidentally interrupted a dinner they were having with a prospective business partner. His mother had been so angry and disappointed in him for causing problems she had instructed him to deal with it himself and to not bother them again over the issue. So he had tried to contact some company who could fix it, but apparently without access to his parents money they couldn’t. And Tim knew that if he insisted they fix it with his own money, they’d become suspicious and his parents could get in trouble, and he has never wanted that for them. So, there was no heating that winter.
Looking back, he probably came close to dying that winter in the never-ending cold, but technically he shouldn’t complain as he did come out of it in the end. And when his parents finally came back to Gotham in February, they were happy that he had managed to sort it out all by himself without inconveniencing them again.
It became a pattern of sorts. Problems would arise whilst they were away, but he would sort them out himself. His parents were always much nicer when he handled things as the ‘man of the of the house’.
…Well ‘nicer’ might be a generous way of putting it, but they definitely were more satisfied that he was not a waste of their money or time at least.
It was easier to be this confident in his own abilities when it wasn’t so unbelievably hot though.
Gotham weather has always been a little…intense for as long as Tim can remember. Of course that weather is usually very cold and wet throughout the year, even summer, but when the city wants to change, it changes drastically. Sometimes the winter is so extreme that it is simply too cold to move outside sometimes. And sometimes the summer sees armageddon-worthy storms or extreme heat.
Unfortunately, their current summer seems to have decided to be Awful to the worst extreme- a heatwave unlike anything Tim can ever remember experiencing was currently suffocating the city.
The heat had actually been considered bad enough for Batman to investigate whether there was a new heat-related rogue starting out - an anti-Mr Freeze or something similar. He was, of course, wrong. It was simply another branch of Gotham weather that everyone was suffering through.
And Tim was certainly suffering.
The air-conditioning had broken the other night, and in these temperatures Tim had yet to feel any relief from the all-encompassing heat both day and night. He had managed to find some electric fans in the basement, but all they seemed to achieve was pushing hot air at him, not cooling him down, so they brought no relief to his hardship. What’s worse was no amount of water was helping him get rid of the dizziness that occupied his mind any time he moved either, and even then he had been sweating so much that he’s pretty sure he was losing any water he ingested before his body could actually use it.
All of this had become too much so he had finally given in and broken his own rules for not contacting his parents for fear of being a bother. Of course he didn’t want them to be annoyed at him for calling them if they were busy, so he had instead opted for an informative email where he clearly outlined the problem (no air conditioning in a heatwave) and the solution (hire the listed contractor to come and fix it at the earliest convenience). They would have to do nothing other than wire some money to the contractor - he literally could not make it less of a hassle for them. It would be nice if they responded though. But just in case they were too busy to check their emails, he’d give them a few more days before contacting them again, he could handle it for now.
And maybe, with his probable dehydration, he should’ve stayed at home even without the air con because at least then he wouldn’t be moving about. But unfortunately he needed something to do, something to occupy his brain. Which, in this case, means Bat-watching!
Since the heatwave had started, he had really fallen behind in his bat-watching - the dark clothes he wore to stay hidden felt just a little too stifling when there wasn’t a single breeze to be found, so he had been sensible and stopped for a few days. He just happened to be so, so bored that he was now willing to suffer just to see Batman and Robin in action again.
Tim made sure his camera was secure in his bag, locked the door to the manor and headed into Gotham on his bike.
The Gotham air was somehow not any cooler than the inside of the manor, so any relief he was hoping for was not going to come, and he was probably making everything worse by the extra exertion he was putting his body through on the ride to the edge of Coventry where he planned to set up for the night, but that was Future Tim’s problem - Present Tim wanted to take some photos of his heroes.
His discovery of Batman and Robin’s identities from Dick Grayson’s signature quadruple somersault when he was nine was to this day one of his proudest moments.
But, very close behind to that, was after his discovery and renewed obsession with the dynamic duo, the massive amounts of work and investigating he put into the mythic figures completely paid off and he figured out their patrol routes. It made his bat-watching SO much easier! And the specific rooftop he was planning on watching from tonight, had their patrols pass three times - three. whole. times. Truly a great discovery.
Tim could admit that it wasn’t simply just boredom that was sending him out to photograph his favourite vigilantes tonight - his house was just so quiet and ever since he first started bat-watching, it felt, to him at least, that he was right there with them. That there were people who were a part of his life and didn’t leave him all on his own. Of course they were completely unaware that Tim viewed them as something awfully similar to friends…or even family, but it made the loneliness just a little more bearable when he knows that no one will be at home to make him laugh. Not like when he quietly laughs to himself at Robin’s jokes, or Nightwing’s puns when he finally started coming back to Gotham after leaving Robin behind.
So…the headache and dizziness getting slightly worse in the heat was a small price to pay so that Tim could feel just a little less alone, a little more loved.
He had been waiting at his lookout spot on the roof of his favourite building for almost an hour and still no Batman or Robin - maybe they too thought it was too hot? But no that doesn’t make sense they always help people and catch criminals no matter the weather. And the hot weather had finally started fraying on the nerves of even small time criminals who had graduated from only committing the crime to survive (usually) to seemingly losing their minds. Just on his way here Tim had seen someone break into a shop, and instead of just taking the money from the register like most do, he had taken his baseball bat and destroyed everything inside, including the air conditioning unit, which is cruel in this weather, and then he never even took money! Just destroyed things and ran when sirens were heard close by.
So yeah, Tim was going to be more cautious on his ride back to his house, lest he break his boast-worthy record of not being mugged since he started bat-watching, because that really wouldn’t make his day any better.
But then, just as he was considering packing up his camera and giving up for the night, he heard the tell-tale sound of a grapple hook on the adjacent building.
He quickly ducked down, hoping to God they hadn’t spotted him, and when he heard nothing else he peeked over the ledge, doing his best to stay in the shadows.
And there they were! Batman and Robin stood on a rooftop right next to him! This was amazing! Normally they would only stop for a second before moving on, or Tim would see them swinging through buildings on this part of their patrol. But they were right there! Robin was leaning against a vent shaft, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, but as much as Tim tried to listen from where he was hiding, it wasn’t enough to make out his voice.
No matter, he could try and get some pictures instead.
He ducked back down, making sure the settings on his camera all lined up and there would be no shutter sound to alert them of his presence…and yes, that all looks good.
He snaps a picture of Robin mid gesture, now stood on top of the vent, waving his arms around as Batman smiles - oh my god Tim got a picture of him smiling??? - at whatever his son was complaining about so passionately. This might just have become one of Tim’s favourite pictures he’s taken. Of course it isn’t an action shot he loves to get right, but he’s always loved it when he captures them acting like the family they are, it just makes him happy to be a part of it.
He tries to picture what Robin was complaining about that had Batman actually smiling whilst donning the cowl - maybe it was about the heat and he was making some jokes about attaching fans to their costumes, or maybe he was ranting about a book he had read recently, or maybe he was trying to describe a prank to play on Nightwing when he’s next in Gotham - the possibilities were endless.
Tim was still marvelling at the shot he had managed to take, at the personalities shown through the image, when the vigilantes finally grappled away, continuing their patrol. Usually he would be disappointed at them leaving the area, but not tonight, because that photo had made it all worth it.
He was so glad he came out tonight instead of stewing in the heat at home. It didn’t matter that his headache was now worse, or that he felt a little nauseous when he stood up, doing his best not to fall over on his way to the fire exit. It was all worth it for that photo.
By the time he made it back to his house, it was almost 3am and he was exhausted. He stumbled into the kitchen to down some water, gripping onto the counter to try and keep himself upright as another wave of dizziness overcame him. Maybe he would just sleep down here tonight. The stairs felt a little too challenging right now with the way his head was spinning. And the floor was cool to the touch, yes, staying in the kitchen was the perfect plan.
He filled the glass up again, and slowly sank down to the floor, relishing in the cool tile against his skin, this might be the first time he’s felt any relief since the heatwave started and he was without the air-conditioner. It was as he was slowly drifting off into the welcome world of sleep when he thought that maybe he should be concerned about how ill he was feeling - but he was sure it wasn’t anything sleep couldn’t fix.
————
Waking up was not a good experience. He was drenched in sweat and sleep had definitely not fixed whatever was wrong with his body. He gulped down the water beside him in record time, but it only took a few seconds for him to notice something felt wrong and then he shot up and vomited right into the sink. Okay, so that was not good either.
Maybe he could call Mrs Mac? She’s technically on family leave at the moment, but his parents aren’t exactly going to pick up the phone, let alone help him, and maybe Mrs Mac could tell him what’s wrong with him, she’s usually good at that, and it wasn’t likely to be serious enough for medical intervention anyway.
Plan sorted he tried to think of the best way to get to his phone when his skin was on fire and his body felt one second away from collapsing. Maybe if he scooted ever so slowly to the table where his phone was haphazardly thrown when he came in last night he wouldn’t fall down. Yes, good plan Tim, he thought to himself.
It took him at least 5 minutes to be able to let go of the kitchen counter without the vertigo threatening to pull him down to the floor and then he began the ever so slow walk to the table 5 feet away. He really didn’t feel good. It was so much hotter than when he went to sleep.
Once he finally reached the table, he fell into a chair, his head against the wooden surface, blindly grabbing for his phone. He looked up to unlock it and through his blurred vision scrolled until he found what he’s pretty sure was Mrs Mac’s number and put it on speaker, allowing him to put his head back on the table.
The dial tones were so unbelievably loud and he just wanted to go back to sleep, why did everything hurt?
“Hello?…Is there someone there?”
Oh someone was speaking, might have been speaking for a while. Tim should probably answer them.
“I think something’s wrong.”
“Oh dear, may I ask who’s calling?” The voice asked.
Wait… that didn’t sound like Mrs Mac? That was a man? But he had definitely pressed her contact? Oh! Maybe it was her husband answering her phone in her stead, yeah that made sense.
“It’s Timothy Drake,” he mumbled, “can you please let Mrs Mac know somethings wrong?”
There was a beat of silence on the other line, before the voice continued.
“Ah, Timothy Drake, of course! Would you mind telling me what’s wrong young sir?”
“Have you ever been in an oven?”
“No…I can’t say that I have sir, have you?”
“I don’t think so,” he paused to think, what was he talking about again? Oh - he didn’t feel well, “I feel like I’m trapped in one though, does that make sense?”
“Well with the weather how it is currently, I can certainly understand your predicament young man.”
“That’s nice, it would be nice to get out the oven though, maybe then I wouldn’t be on fire.”
“On fire?”
“Yep, everything’s too hot and it would explain why my skin is burning.”
Tim lifted his head off the table again, trying to collect his thoughts in his muddled brain.
“I just wanted to let Mrs Mac know something was wrong, could you tell her please?”
“Yes of course young sir, I will inform ‘Mrs Mac’ of your problem. But, before I do, could you tell me if there is someone there to help you?” He asked.
“No? Why would there be? I can handle everything, I just wanted Mrs Mac to know something was wrong. You’ll tell her right?”
“…Yes Master Timothy I can tell her, but I would prefer to know someone was there, maybe I could come and check you are alright? How does that sound?”
He really could handle things, he had just wanted a second opinion. But, he did feel awful, and it would be nice to not be alone. Even if his company was Mrs Mac’s husband.
“Okay, I guess that’s fine. It really is hot so be careful.”
“I am always careful young master, I shall be there soon.”
The sound of the call ending registered in Tim’s ears, but he really just wanted to sleep. Maybe a quick nap before he entertained a guest? Yes that should be fine, his parents wouldn’t want him slacking on his manners no matter how rough he felt.
————
There was a banging noise in his dream. That was rude of his brain. Why couldn’t he dream of quiet things, like libraries? Or better yet, he could be floating on an iceberg in the middle of the ocean, no sound but the slight lapping of waves beneath him, that would be nice.
“Master Timothy? Are you there?”
Now there was speaking in his dream? Why couldn’t they just be quiet? He tried to tell them as much, but it might’ve come out as more of a grunt.
There was more noise…like footsteps? That was better than the talking at least, maybe his grunt had worked?
“Oh my!”
Okay he takes it back, they definitely weren’t respecting his command for quiet.
“Master Timothy?” A hand touched his forehead, and oh, that was nice. The hand was so nice and cold and he hadn’t had felt something so gentle in a while, maybe the dream wasn’t too bad. It was a shame the nice hand sounded worried though.
“Oh my dear boy, an oven may have been underplaying it.”
He whined when the cold hand left his face, why couldn’t his brain just let him have what he wanted?
“I apologise young master, but it is best if we get you treated as soon as possible.”
The hands now moved to pick him up, and oh, that was even better. When was the last time someone held him? If only it wasn’t a dream, it would be nice to be hugged he thinks.
The voice said a few more words but he was too busy relishing in the feeling of another person to care. He slipped back off into a deeper sleep, the sound of an engine lulling him back into the darkness.
————
When Tim woke up he was…somewhere else? This was definitely not his room, or even any room in Drake Manor, and it definitely wasn’t the kitchen, but he wasn’t exactly sure why his brain would associate sleeping with a kitchen. What also stuck out was that it was cold? Or at least not as warm as his house.
So, he must not be in his house? That wasn’t good - this definitely required some level of Panic, but, in all honesty his brain was struggling to conjure a thought, let alone survival instincts.
He should leave, right? When you wake up in a secondary location, you get away? Yes that seemed reasonable.
He clambered out the - surprisingly comfy, especially for an abduction - bed, and swiftly fell to the floor, blankets tangling around his legs.
Tim groaned into the floor. No wonder he was kidnapped, he couldn’t even escape a few blankets, he was easy pickings really.
“Um, are you good?” Said a voice from the door - and ohmygod that’s Jason Todd?! What the hell was going on? Why was Jason Todd here? Did he get kidnapped too? No, that doesn’t make sense he was Robin, he simply wouldn’t get caught.
Jason - Jason fricking Todd - took his silence as an answer and walked over to Tim’s still crumpled form and scooped him up by the armpits and deposited him back onto the bed.
Honestly he was so confused. Was he in Wayne Manor for some reason?
“Your name’s Timothy right?” He asked this time.
And that Tim could answer. He nodded, “Um, I prefer Tim though, sorry.”
Jason tilted his head at him, as if he was trying to figure something out.
“No need to apologise Timmy,” he reached for a glass of water on the bedside table, carefully handing it to Tim, “How are you feeling? You seem at least somewhat more present than you have for the past couple o’ days.”
‘Days’? What on Earth had happened? His brain felt like mush.
Wait - he had been ill. He remembers burning maybe? And oh, he had been really sick. Still doesn’t explain why he was at Batman’s house though.
“Uhh, I’m feeling better?”
The other boy snorted, “You don’t remember calling Alfie do you?”
‘Alfie’? As in Alfred Pennyworth? As in Agent A? No Tim does certainly not remember calling him. God this was so embarrassing, he bothered a whole family of vigilantes just because he felt a little ill and had apparently misdialled his phone. Oh, he would never live this down.
“Not really no…sorry?”
Jason simply laughed again and reached over to ruffle his hair. That was nice, had anyone ever ruffled his hair before? He doesn’t think so. Maybe if he could make Jason laugh again, he would do it again?
“Don’t worry Timbo, it was clear you thought you were calling someone else, Alfie was just worried.”
“And I had good reason to be.” Said an older British man now standing at the door, and how had Tim not noticed him?
The man stepped into the room, “I take it you are feeling better Master Timothy? You gave me quite the fright when I went to check on you.”
“Um yeah, I’m good thank you,” he tried not to fidget under the stare of the butler, “sorry for being a bother, I’m sure I would have been just fine.”
“Stop apologising Timmy-“ Jason started saying from his new spot on the bed, but was quieted by a quick look from Mr Pennyworth.
“I can assure you it was no bother Master Timothy, in fact, I fear you were ill enough that if I had not checked on you, you would not have been ‘just fine.’”
“Oh.”
Before he could say anything else though, yet another person entered the room. This time Tim was met with Batman. Why on Earth were Batman, Robin and Agent A all in his room? Wait not his room - he was in their room? He was honestly still a little confused.
He wanted to disappear into the pillows, but his parents voice’s echoed in his ears talking about manners and first impressions, so he sat up straight and introduced himself.
“Hello Mr Wayne, I’m very sorry about intruding on your space, I’ll be right out of your hair I promise.” He went to stand again, and whoa he was definitely still dizzy, but he could manage this.
Come on Tim just don’t fall over, he told himself, hand tight on the bedside table as he tried to use it to help him off the bed.
A pair of hands moved to his shoulders and pushed him back towards the bed. He looked at the concerned face of Jason Todd in betrayal - couldn’t they see he was trying to leave and stop encroaching on their lives?
“Sit back down Timberly, you’re still recovering and…” He paused, looking back at Mr Wayne before refocusing on Tim, “you’re not intruding in our space, promise.”
Tim looked from Jason’s small smile to Mr Pennyworth who was still hovering to the side and then to Mr Wayne who was looking at him like he was a problem to solve. And Tim did not like that look.
As great as it was to be in a room with his heroes (and he’s sure he’ll freak out over it later), he was still pretty confused and what if he slips up and accidentally reveals he knows their identity - they would not be so laid back about him in their house if that was the case. Maybe they’d even erase his memory or imprison him somewhere. He’s not made for imprisonment, he’d get too bored he thinks.
“So,” Mr Wayne began, and Tim tensed up in worry, “you were really ill Timothy and it could have ended badly if Alfred hadn’t arrived, so where was your nanny?”
“Or better yet where are you parents?” He heard Jason mutter at his side, but he wasn’t sure he was
Oh. Oh no. This was exactly the type of conversation his parents were worried about him messing up and getting them in trouble. But this was Batman, how was Tim going to lie to him?!
Okay think this through - they might not know for sure he doesn’t have a nanny but if they look into his parents spending they’ll see there’s no one hired, but Mrs Mac is paid so he might be able to spin this in his favour.
“Um, Mrs Mac had a family emergency, and she couldn’t find someone to replace her on such short notice, but I told her I was fine on my own for a day and then she could come back. I didn’t realise I was sick though obviously, otherwise she definitely wouldn’t have left.”
Yeah that sounded believable, maybe now they’ll let him leave and stop asking questions.
“You’re ten, right Tim?” Mr Wayne asked.
And Tim had definitely spoken too soon, of course the World’s Greatest Detective would keep asking questions.
“Um no, I just turned eleven last month Mr Wayne.”
“Please call me Bruce, and you understand that an eleven year old should not be looking after himself?”
“Don’t worry I’m very mature for my age Mr Wayne, and Mrs Mac wasn’t going to leave me on my own for long and I had her phone number for emergencies, it’s not like I was truly looking after myself.”
“Hnn,” He grunted, “And your parents? Where are they in all of this?”
Tim tensed up, he really didn’t like these questions, and they were all staring at him - was it that obvious he was lying? Unfortunately his brain still felt all mushy and he had no idea what they wanted to hear from him - really what was going on?
But, if in doubt, channel Janet Drake and start trying to manipulate people into believing you.
“They travel a lot for business, their work is very important, you understand that don’t you Mr Wayne?”
“Please just call me Bruce, and yes I…understand that-“
“Great!” He clapped his hands together, and went to stand up again, “Now we’re all on the same page, I really should get out of your hair. Apologies again for taking up your time.”
Okay, he still didn’t feel great standing up, but he could be bleeding out right now and he’d still try to leave, he did not like this conversation one bit.
“Nope.” Jason grabbed his arm, manoeuvring him back onto the bed again, God, Tim seemed so weak this was getting embarrassing.
“I’m sorry?” He asked the room, but instead of someone answering him they were all looking at each other and sharing pointed glances - just great.
Finally, they all turned back to Tim, and it was Alfred who spoke this time.
“You had a severe case of heatstroke and heat exhaustion Master Timothy, and yet I found you alone and unconscious sat at your kitchen table. We would prefer it if you stayed with us for a little while longer so we can look into the matter.”
“There’s nothing to look into,” he defended, “I’m not a baby, I can handle things just fine without your interference.”
Oo okay that came off a little rude, but his parents were going to be so mad at him for this whole mess, so the Waynes would just have to deal with it.
“So your broken air-conditioning? That was being handled was it?” Jason snarked, raising an eyebrow at him when Tim turned turned towards him.
“Yes, my parents were just getting round to sending someone to fix it actually.” Fantastic, now he was lying though his teeth to his heroes, this had truly gotten out of his control.
Mr Wayne sighed, seeming very tired with the whole situation, “We’re not attacking you Tim, we’re just worried, you could have died.”
“Yeah! And you shouldn’t be alone when you’re all sick, so just stay with us yeah?” Jason prompted, poking him in the side with the question.
“But I’m not even that sick anymore? Surely it’s easier for me to just go home.”
“Like we said Tim, you really were very ill, and it’d make us all feel better if you just stayed with us for a little longer, just until we’re sure you’re better.”
When Tim went to argue, Mr Wayne continued, “And this way your nanny can focus on her family emergency instead of coming back to worry over you, works for everybody right?”
Okay, with the way they were all looking at him, Tim was certain he’d made a mistake somewhere in this confusing conversation, but there really didn’t seem like a way out of this. He couldn’t even say he’d be fine on his own because he was used to it, because that would go against some of his lies. He was so very tired.
He sighed in defeat, “Sure, I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible then leave when I’m better, yes?”
Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, but the expression quickly disappeared and he instead grinned at Tim, “Great! How do ya feel about video games?”
Mr Pennyworth hummed, “Perhaps video games should come later Master Jason, Master Timothy really should eat something and rest a little longer first.”
Tim shrugged, he wasn’t sure when the last time he ate was so that was probably a good idea.
Mr Pennyworth must have taken that as an answer though as he left the room, ushering the unnervingly quiet Mr Wayne with him.
Jason tapped his cheek, and gave him a small smile, “It’ll be alright Timmy, we’ll have some fun yeah?”
Tim tentatively smiled back, stomach still churning from the previous conversation, but this was Robin, his hero, “Sure, that would be nice.”