Chapter Text
Jack Drake bends down to fix Tim's tie and says, “Now remember Timothy. This is your first gala, so all eyes will be on you tonight. You will need to stand still and pay attention, got it?”
Tim nods eagerly, anxious to make his parents proud. “Got it!” He says excitedly, tapping his shoe three times.
He reaches out to take his mother's hand as they go out to the car waiting outside, but Janet doesn't even notice as she swiftly makes her way to the door. So Tim silently drops his hand and follows after his parents obediently.
His parents talk about their next dig the whole way over to gala. Tim tries to ask where they'll be going, but quickly shuts his mouth when his mother gives him a sharp glare. He only wanted to know so he could read about it in his geography book.
When his parents stride into the ballroom, Tim is immediately overwhelmed by the noise of the gala as he trails behind. He almost starts to play with his hair before remembering he was being watched tonight. So instead, he discretely taps his thigh to reassure himself as he puts on a smile he knows will make all the women call him a little angel.
Tim can do this. It's just like he and mother practiced. No speaking unless he's spoken to first, keep a friendly smile on his face, don't wiggle around, and don't ask annoying questions.
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Looking at his Mickey Mouse watch, Tim can tell they've been at the gala for over 3 hours. His thoughts are getting really loud and he really wants to go home. He tugs on his dad's sleeve and asks softly, “Dad, when does the gala end?”
Tim immediately can tell he's made a mistake. Jack tenses a bit, but doesn't scold Tim in front of the man he's speaking to, instead saying, “Not for a while Timothy.”
Tim stops himself from looking visibly disappointed and nods instead.
The car ride home two hours later is silent and Tim doesn't dare say anything. If it weren't for the chauffeur, he knows his parents would already be starting in on the list of the things he did wrong tonight. He feels anxiety build up in his stomach the whole way home. He taps his shoe three times and tries to block out the loud thoughts in his head. And even though it never works, he still feels disappointed when the thoughts just ramp up.
After having been scolded by his parents so many times before, Tim barely flinches as his dad yells right in front of his face. Each criticism repeats incessantly in his brain, even as he tries to fall asleep an hour later.
Tim has to whisper reassurances to himself to drown out the thoughts for almost 30 minutes straight before his exhausted body finally goes to sleep.